FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

She had very little memory of how she ended up here. She did however recall a beating so brutal that she passed out from pain. Her ears rang, and she felt her eye start to rapidly swell, making her vision blurry. Another hard blow to the head. Then another, and she drifted into darkness. She heard raised voices as she sank and resurfaced in the inky black sea of unconsciousness, and she felt the sensation of being lifted and carried. The grossly overweight client responsible was tossed aside, and had he not been stopped, he surely would have clubbed her to death with his fists. After that, she remembered nothing. She woke up in a bed with clean sheets, something she had not seen or felt since she was 13 years old. A kind faced, golden haired maid tended to her wounds, and she seemed distantly familiar. Severe head trauma prevented her from remembering how she knew her at the time, and after recovering she recalled she had actually been working in the same brothel, where they were both sex slaves, and she too was nearly beaten to death. The last she had seen of her, she was being drug out and tossed into the street, believed to be dead. She was reminded of her name, Tuare, and asked the maid how she managed to escape with her life. She was told Sebas, the Butler of Nazarick, had rescued them both. She had very vague recollection of someone stopping her assailant and unfortunately did not even remember his face, and oddly enough not even her own name. Tuare relayed to her that her fate would be decided by the ruler of Nazarick, Lord Ainz. She was reassured that the Lord granted Tuare protection under his name, and allowed her to work as a maid in Nazarick. But Tuare also cautioned that if she were to stay here, she had better make herself useful, or they may dispose of her, either by death or sending her away. When she recovered enough to be able to stand and walk, and the worst of her wounds were healed, she was brought before Ains Ooal Gown and the other Guardians. To both her and Tuare's surprise, they did not grant her the same level of mercy. The ruler was displeased that Sebas had "brought home another pet" but as a compromise he still allowed her to stay in Nazarick to prevent any information about their location and denizens from escaping. Eager to prove her worth and convince the Guardians she was worthy enough to not return her to the brothel, she immediately went to work preparing meals in the kitchen with Tuare and cleaning the rooms and hallways.

---

As she dusted the hallway and many paintings hanging throughout the mansion, she heard footfalls behind her. At first she thought this to be Sebas, but as looked over her shoulder and the silhouette drew closer, she could discern it was someone taller. He was more slender, and sharply dressed in a vermilion pinstripe suit, his hair black and slicked back into jagged points. His features were sharp as were his ears; they were long and pointed with silver rings adorning his right one. He was handsome, certainly more attractive than any of the clientele that she was forced to serve at the brothel.

'Is he a dark elf?' She asked herself.

A pair of spectacles hid his eyes; she could see her shadow reflected in them. He had an air of authority and high intelligence about him. The way he carried himself with his hands being casually tucked behind his back told her he was deadlier than he looked; her suspicions were confirmed when she noticed a steely armored-plated tail armed with spikes swaying behind him. A demon. Her heart caught in her throat. He continued his path towards her.

She did not simply bow; no, he was far more intimidating than what a bow of respect would require. She dropped to her knees and lowered her head, trying to make herself as small and insignificant as possible.

Demiurge glanced her way and momentarily raised an eyebrow, somewhat taken aback by her gesture. As far as humans knew and were concerned, he possessed the power of a God or Devil and they should respect and fear him as no less, which this lowly insect clearly understood. Of the few encounters he had with the much weaker race, rarely did they bow; if they didn't try to foolishly fight him, they typically stood clear of his path or fled in terror. Thanks to Sebas, he never got more than a head bow out of Tuare. He liked that this one knelt to the ground at the mere sight of him, and he had not even uttered a word to her.

Demiurge passed her by. His disturbingly acute hearing could detect her racing pulse.

"You may now stand." He said without turning to her as he reached the end of the hallway.

She was a little surprised by this; she didn't think he would have deemed her worthy to waste words on. She did as she was told, and cautiously stood, straightening her uniform.

"Th-thank you, my Lord." She said quietly.

After turning the corner where she could not see him, he grinned evilly to himself. The Arch Devil relished how terrified humans were of him, and he completely got off on their fear and submissiveness to his power. Oh, how Demiurge liked this. Always the one to bow before Lord Ainz, he had someone bowing before him instead. He would be looking forward to their next encounter.

This became routine. He would take the same path in the hallway as always, and when crossing hers she would kneel to him, and lower her head until he gave her permission to stand. He took great pleasure in how her heart rate increased in his presence, how she would freeze and then fall to her knees as though he were Lord Ainz himself. He felt her gaze on him as he would pass by, and knew her eyes were transfixed on his weapon of a tail as he would turn the next corner.

While she was undoubtedly afraid of the red clad demon, he was...interesting to look at, to say the least. No man around Nazarick looked quite like him, most men were dressed in armor of some sort, or at least brandished some sort of weapon. The fact that he dressed elegantly like a gentleman and wore no physical protection (his tail was deadly looking enough) told her he could not only very well take care of himself, but was a force to be reckoned with. She found herself oddly attracted to him, his confidence and power was truly enticing.

The next day Demiurge was passing through the hallway, and again he found himself crossing paths with the human as she hummed to herself, performing her dusting duties. He stepped silently this time, so she did not see nor hear his approach. He paused when he was less than 6 inches away from her. He took this opportunity to take in her appearance. For a human female, she was rather pretty. Not as physically stunning as the succubus Albedo of course, but aesthetically pleasing nonetheless. The long golden hair that hung loosely around around her shoulders smelled sweet, like honey, undoubtedly from cooking pastries in the kitchen recently. He noticed her skin was unusually pale from spending the majority of her life indoors. Bruises still spotted her exposed arms but were fading with the passing of time. She turned with her feather duster in hand, and upon seeing his towering form standing before her, she promptly dropped it with a start and her voice left her throat. Beyond startled, she fell to her knees and started to lower her head.

He bent at the waist and caught her chin in his black gloved hand before she could drop her head completely, and raised her face to meet his gaze.

She had to fight the urge to not jump at the unexpected physical contact.

"Look at me, human." He hissed. The Arch Devil's voice made cold fear trickle over her scalp.

She did as ordered, trembling. His gloves were leather and soft, but his fingers within ended in claws that were sharp on her face, and threatened to puncture her flesh. Her eye met his and she gasped. Behind the glass of his spectacles in place of eyes, there were what looked to be finely cut diamonds. Her reflection looked back at her on the dozens of facets of the gems. How he could see her was a mystery.

The demon studied her eyes; they glistened with fear, as to be expected. She was questioning his intentions, but dared not speak. But she obeyed,and her gaze did not yield, despite her obvious fear.

A predatory grin spread across his face, and her eyes widened even further as it exposed his sharp fangs to her.

"I believe I will make you my personal servant." His eyes glimmered mischievously. It was not a request.

---

Ains Ooal Gown was the most intimidating entity she had ever seen; a colossal undead emperor reclining confidently on his throne, he made the fact that she thought the demon was frightening almost laughable. The nameless maid, the demon and Sebas had been gathered before him. Sebas was extremely quiet and still. Something was wrong.

Demiurge bowed before the skeletal king, and raised his head. "Most honorable ruler, might I make a somewhat selfish request?"

"You may." Lord Ainz permitted.

"I would like this human as my personal servant. I deem her competent enough to keep the 7th floor tidy, and having her around would certainly lighten the amount of work placed on Pestonya."

"An excellent idea, Demiurge. And I'm sure as far as Pestonya would be concerned, it was not selfish at all. I grant your request." With that, Lord Ainz sealed her fate.

Sebas bristled, but held his tongue. He didn't dare challenge his master's decision.

"My most humble thanks for indulging, my Lord." The Arch Devil would have his way.

Sebas almost trembled with rage, but before the ruler he tried to maintain his resolve.

What the lowly human wanted was meaningless; how she felt about being handed over to the demon was not even discussed.

Lord Ainz only granted equal rights to Tuare as a favor to Sebas. While he allowed this second human to stay within their walls to keep on good terms with the Butler, he extended his kindness to the nameless maid no further than that.

"Come, human, I will guide you to your quarters." The demon left the throne room, and she followed closely behind him.

She cast one last glance back to Sebas, who looked ultimately defeated. He eyes fell from her face and to the ground.

---

The routine of her kneeling as the Arch Devil passed her in the main hall of the 7th floor continued over the next month, and they grew somewhat accustomed to one another's presence. The only words exchanged between them over the next few weeks were still limited to him giving her permission to rise, and her thanking him. She did her job well, keeping everything from the floors to the furniture spotless and free of dust. She took pride in her work, but never received any praise from her assigned Lord.

For a time it seemed like Demiurge simply had her moved to a different section of the mansion. She didn't understand why Sebas had made such a big deal about being assigned to the Guardian of the 7th Floor, but she knew he must have had his reasons.

One evening she was dusting a table at the end of a hallway, apparently lost in thought, humming to herself when Demiurge again crossed paths with her. She was bent over the table, all too vulnerably, much to the demon's liking; her maid's dress hiked up, where he had a grand view of her rear, perfectly framed by the skirt's frills. He took the opportunity to liven things up, if nothing else, out of sheer boredom.

"You have an enticing backside, human." He remarked casually as he passed her by, hands behind his back. He heard her crumple to the floor and he gleefully imagined the utmost embarrassment he caused her. A kneeling spell would have been just as effective, making it all the more amusing.

She nearly jumped out her skin so hard so didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She was leaning towards laughing as the Guardian of the 7th floor just basically told her "nice ass". Not that it was the first time she had heard that comment, but hearing it from a Devil and her assigned Lord was certainly new to her. As much as she wanted to, she didn't dare laugh and instead collapsed to the ground blushing in a delayed kneel, still shocked by his silent and unexpected approach.

Demiurge was quite pleased with himself as he turned the corner.

The nameless maid on the other hand, was borderline mortified. What the Hell suddenly possessed him to say that? Was he trying to embarrass her? If he thought that was possible, he was sorely mistaken. She had been commanded to do more than her share of unsavory things in the brothel, many of which she hopes never to come to light. What he no doubt thought to be a blush of embarrassment on her face, was a blush of surprise, and nothing more. She would show him it takes more than a crude compliment to embarrass her.

Demiurge was not in the least bit sexually shy, nor one to blush; as a demon he was far too predatory in nature for human reactions such as that. To him, sexuality was a highly valuable manipulation tool, and one of the most effective. He found how easily it swayed others to be remarkable, so he delved into exploring all aspects of it and gathered as much information of how it affects the brain and body as possible. A prime example was the effect it had on Albedo and Shalltear towards Lord Ainz. They were childishly at each other's throats over him, and it made both of the females value his life highly over their own, and gave him utmost control over them. Shalltear went as far as to allow herself to be a seat for the ruler, and Albedo made an eerie body pillow designed after his likeness. Oddly enough, despite the Lord's lack of sexual organs, they both pined over the idea of consummating with him. Even if he did not hold the title of the last Elder Lich of Nazarick, with the degree of their obsession, Demiurge was positive their infatuation with him would still have the same powerful hold over the two Guardians.

As he discovered more about what sexually drove him, he became skillful in his own art. He was mainly driven by sadism and domination, causing terror, pain and pleasure simultaneously to those he forced it upon was his ultimate thrill. Nothing brought him more joy than watching his victims squirm and struggle with both ends of the spectrum of torture and ecstasy. A true Devil, he took what he wanted, whether the receiving party was reciprocating or not.

He wondered what it would be like to have this human writhe beneath him. Would she fight him tooth and nail, or fear him enough to let him do as he pleased to her? Either way, he knew he would face very little repercussions for any of his actions as she was not granted true protection under the name of Ainz Ooal Gown. Assigned as a personal servant to serve the Arch Devil, Demiurge now owned her.

---

The next day, like clockwork, he turned the corner of the hallway and much to his surprise, saw her again bent over the table, carelessly dusting away. He shamelessly took in the view of her plump rear, beautifully exposed to him. He couldn't help but to lick his lips.

This time he could swear he saw her catch a glimpse of him yet she remained in that position, as if not to see him. Surely she would kneel if he were in her field of vision, so that couldn't be possible. He stalked up behind her, and yet she continued to sweep the feathers of the duster across the table, as if he didn't exist.

'There's no way she doesn't see me.'

Oh? Was he being ignored? If so, this was a game he would gladly play, and win.

He brazenly bent himself over her, caging her with his arms, pressing himself close over her back. While it was slight, he still felt her tense. She would certainly not be expecting him to be so bold.

Just how far could he take this before she screams?

She was not completely surprised that he would use this type of tactic to elicit a response. It was almost to be expected, she knew men like this all too well, especially with her previous line of work. Even someone who seemed as refined and reserved as himself may act like an animal when the opportunity is presented and no one else is around.

He lowered his head to her ear.

"Have you forgotten how to kneel?" He hissed. She involuntarily shuddered beneath him, much to his delight.

While she had grown somewhat accustomed to his presence, she did still fear him. However he was quite attractive, and found herself becoming tantalized by the situation with his breath in her ear and his tall, wiry frame bearing down over her. He fearlessly invaded her space, and strangely enough, she found he had an intoxicating presence, he radiated heat and power and smelled of dark spice and burnt sandalwood. She wondered if he was using some sort of spell on her.

She tried to fight the heady feeling and continue dusting, but started to tremble as she did so. She knew this was beyond dangerous, failing to bow to him, but she was testing the waters to see just what he would let her get away with. She honestly had nothing to lose at this point. Worst case scenario, he kills her or she is brought back to the brothel. If this were to go south, she would honestly prefer death.

"Perhaps I should refresh your memory." Admittedly impressed by her determination to ignore him, Demiurge pushed her further; and licked the shell of her ear, his tongue hot on her flesh.

She couldn't prevent the small sound that escaped her lips as her breath hitched in her throat. She felt him grin viciously against the side of her neck, and he threaded his hand through her golden hair, sharply yanking her neck back and effectively pulling her up off the edge of the table, flush against his body. The feather duster fell from her hand and clattered to the floor. With a silver flash she found his wicked tail held fast to her throat, the long spikes pressed threateningly against her jugular. She was stone still, sure he was about to kill her.

She might have seriously fucked up here.

The demon then ground against her sharply, and her heart dropped. They stood frozen for a long moment, her breath coming short and fast through her nose.

To her surprise, he mercifully granted her a brief moment of relief when he withdrew his tail and took a small step back to release his hold on her hair, and he then suddenly wrapped his slender but strong fingers around the back of her neck instead and his placed his other hand on her shoulder. Any hopes of deescalating the situation were dashed as he took full advantage of his grasp and pinned her to the table roughly.

"Lo-Lord, I..." She stuttered to apologize, hit with the cold, hard surface of the table and just as icy reality that while she was both terrified and enthralled, she had definitely bitten off more than she can chew. This is why Sebas was so furious about her being moved. He knew she wasn't just being taken to a different part of the mansion; being assigned to the 7th Floor meant she would become the Arch Devil's personal plaything.

"Lord DEMIURGE." He growled.

It dawned on her that his name meant creator, supreme being. She had been insubordinate to a god. She indeed fucked up.

"Lord Demiurge..." She corrected herself. "I apol-"

"It is far too late for apologies." He cut her off with a low, menacing laugh. She felt his armored metal tail slip beneath her dress which then skillfully lifted the hem, displaying her most vulnerable area to the Arch Devil and his gloved hand quickly followed, slowly and deliberately dragging his clawed fingers up her thigh. She felt blood start rushing in her ears, her pulse accelerated with not fear alone, but also anxious titillation as the heat of his rapidly growing erection pressed urgently into the dip between her legs.

His hand paused after reaching its destination, silently daring her to beg him to stop. To the demon's surprise she held her tongue, and he proceeded to shred the thin cloth there with his talons, exposing her entrance to him completely. Her breath hitched as she realized this was not just an act as a show of dominance, as she initially thought. The demon fully intended on following through and then quickly freed himself from the confines of his pants.

Much to her horror, she felt his deadly tail return, the cold metal tip gently, yet very threateningly gliding over her slit.

'Oh shit.'

She froze for a moment, and felt the color drain from her face; she hesitantly looked back at him.

'Is he seriously going to use it that way?'

"What is used depends on whether or not you choose bow to me." It was as though he could read her mind.

Still in shock, her words died in her throat, so he daringly started to press the point of his tail ever so carefully, centimeter by centimeter, into her. It was cold and had uncomfortably sharp edges. Any courage or resolve she had before rapidly drained away as the magnitude of the situation dropped on her like lead. She witnessed the terror blooming on her face through the mirror of his spectacles.

The raw, unbridled fear in her eyes made him insanely hard.

"I will, I will bow! I promise to obey!" She pleaded for mercy, dreading the shredding spikes that followed the following segment of his tail.

To her relief, he slowly withdrew the living weapon, his narrow features sharpened by his genuinely evil grin, seemingly pleased by her surrender.

"A wise choice. But your insubordination will not go unaddressed..." He aligned himself with her entrance and held her firmly in place as he began to slowly force the crown of his member into her slick heat.

She moaned, partially in relief that it wasn't his tail, partially from pain as he was unexpectedly thick. She silently cursed herself for giving him utmost satisfaction, but who wouldn't be horrified enough to submit when a Arch Devil threatens to fuck you with a medievel mace?

Demiurge's cruel smile widened as he buried himself almost to the hilt. His claws holding the back of her neck tightened their grip, sinking into her flesh deep enough to draw forth little droplets of blood.

The demon watched her face with heated interest as the human arched beneath him, reading a mix of pain, fear and unsolicited pleasure as he pulled back halfway only to plunge himself back into her just as deeply. He leaned forward and licked the crimson droplets off her neck, relishing and rolling the coppery taste of his victim's blood around in his mouth. She suddenly cried out as the new angle he positioned them in brushed against a bundle of nerves. He took notice of this and drew his organ out tortuously slow, and then slammed home again. She tried to twist, her legs suddenly weakened by the overwhelming sensation. Initially he thought it was an attempt to wrench out of his grasp, but she then pushed back against him, apparently hungry for more.

She hated that she was thoroughly enjoying how he forceful he was, how good he felt inside of her. It was the most psychologically thrilling and frightening experience; the demon threatening her life, surging her adrenaline with fear of mutilation or death and then rewarding her with sexual pleasure and sensual pain. It was like a drug.

"Lord...Demiurge..." She moaned breathlessly.

He responded by arching his tail over their heads like a scorpion and slammed it a hair's breadth away from her face, splintering the wood of the table. She gasped and jumped at the sudden impact.

"I will allow you to live...for now. But should you _ever_disrespect me again, and I will rip you apart at the molecular level." He rasped, reminding her of just how much danger she was actually in. He had not forgiven her.

She did not doubt that he would not hesitate to not only kill her but truly make her suffer should she dare to offend him a second time.

Demiurge maintained his death-grip on her neck with his left hand and released her shoulder in order to roughly lift her right leg, and used the leverage to sink himself in deeper, this time entirely sheathing himself. The nameless maid's jaw dropped in a silent scream as he now filled her completely, stretching her to the limit. She heard a quiet breath of satisfaction slip through his fangs as his organ pulsed inside her. She attempted to shift to readjust as she was almost too small to accommodate him, and he aggressively forced her down flat into the table, stilling her movement.

"You _will_accept your punishment." His voice remained stern and dripped with feral voracity as he had utter control over her body, and without warning, he began to violently drive into her. She keened at the sudden hammering, and quickly came undone beneath the demon. She gripped the table's edges desperately for support so hard two of her fingernails snapped and she mewled, completely helpless against the assault. Her cries fueled the Arch Devil's desire, made him wild.

Harder and faster Demiurge plunged, brutally fucking her into total submission. Again he leaned forward to lap up the blood trickling down her neck, never loosening his hold or slowing his savage pace. The angle shift made her moan more fervently as the swollen head of his organ repeatedly struck a particularly sensitive spot. Fuzzy white noise deafened her as the pleasure pulled her down in a dark fog, her mind shattered. Her grip on the table's edges detached, and she instead now dug her nails weakly into it's surface. Her cries no longer sounded like her own, her voice raw. A knot tightened in her stomach and heat pooled into her loins, her forced upon orgasm rapidly drawing close. She became vaguely aware that The Arch Devil's breathing grew heavier, his thrusts more frantic and his grasp now almost suffocating around her neck.

"I _own_you." He hissed in her ear, and then sank his teeth into the flesh between her neck and shoulder, marking her as his newest plaything. "Now scream for your master."

The nameless maid obeyed, her cries echoing through the 7th Floor. Her walls clamped down around his throbbing shaft as her climax ripped through her, and the shudders of orgasm wracked her body as the wave of sinful pleasure came crashing down, all the demon's doing. Again she screamed for him, this time Demiurge's name. This sent the Arch Devil over the edge, he growled low in his chest and thrusted hard one final time before his organ heaved and spilled into his servant.