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The Demon and the Monk

for Necross

by Draconicon

Satres rarely had a day that went quietly. If he wasn't actively hunting a demon, then there was one emerging from the constantly forming portals between his world and hell. As one of the few demon hunters that were left in this part of the world, it meant that it was his responsibility to be constantly ready for a fight, and it usually meant that he had little time to do anything but train and defend those that couldn't defend themselves.

On the rare occasions that he was doing neither - like today - the raven took the time to wander amidst a small forest. The place was well traveled, so it wasn't precisely private, but it was quiet enough, and the trees were soothing to him.

He walked silently beneath the branches, taking in the sunlight and the shade with equal pleasure. His tight fitting clothes clung to his feathery arms down to the wrist, ending there to allow his down-covered fingers freedom to grasp or move as they would. Around his neck he wore a string of prayer beads, and he frequently rubbed them as he walked along.

It was when he was rounding a corner on his way back that he saw something twist beneath a tree. The raven stopped, leaping up the trunk of a tree and into the branches as soon as he saw it.

"Another one."

He sighed as the twist in the air widened, turning into a swirling portal onto a plane of red. Through it stepped a red-gray creature, humanoid enough save for the multiple arms that it had. Satres recognized the marks of the Asuran demon, but not the other tribal marks that criss-crossed the creature's arms. They were new to him, but familiar at the same time.

It didn't matter. Another demon to invade this world, that was all it was. He would send it back home or seal it away, just like he did with all the others.

The raven reached into his pocket, pulling out a throwing dagger. Along the grip was a written seal and prayer. Small demons were normally instantly bound by it; it would be interesting to see how well this demon fought it.

He flung the dagger just as the demon pushed halfway through the portal. The blade glimmered in the shadows -

• And was deflected by the demon's quick moving arms. It left a cut along his arm, but that was barely more than a scratch. Not a great physical wound, but for Satres, more than enough to activate the other effects.

You aren't weak enough to succumb to this, I know, the raven though. But it will give me an idea of how much I need to use.

The demon looked back and forth for the source of the attack, but soon turned back to the injury on its arm. Purple light gleamed from it before scribbling letters flowed out of it, crawling like snakes along the demon's skin. Satres watched intently, his fingers on his chin as he measured how long it would take the demon to counter it.

To his shock, the lines made it barely two inches from the wound before they were forced to retract. More than that, the demon managed to close the wound in record time, preventing it from being even a distraction from now on.

You are strong...very strong.

"Whoever you are, come out. Not that nice to attack someone without warning."

Satres shook his head, instead moving silently to another branch. The demon knelt down, peeling off the paper from the knife, tossing it up and down in the palm of its hand.

"You know, I'm not a bad guy. We could get along, if you're not going to go stabbing me all the time."

I wouldn't bet on it.

"Come on, I know you're up there. Why don't you just -"

The demon suddenly whipped around, his arm flicking back and forward so fast that it was nothing but a blur. Only a quick lean back kept the blade from thunking into the raven's forehead, and even with that, he was hanging upside down from his branch. His talons clutched it tightly, but his head was on level with the demon's now.

"-come down and say hi? See? Was that so hard?"

"You are very fast, as well as very strong."

"Not to mention sexy. Why don't you come down, and we can talk for a bit?"

"I have yet to meet the demon that just wants to talk."

"Well, I didn't say that was all I wanted."

With nothing to be gained from hanging around, the raven let go of the branch and fell to the ground. He landed upright, one hand held out towards the demon, the other held closer in.

"You do not belong here. Go home, and no harm will come to you."

"You know, if you'd said that before throwing a dagger at me, I might have listened."

"It was harmless to one of your caliber, and you know it."

"Hey, just because I healed it didn't mean it didn't hurt."

"It is immaterial."

"I'm starting to think your brain is immaterial. Do you talk like this all the time?"

"It is called focus."

"It's called having a stick up your butt. If you gotta keep something up there, don't you think a cock would be more fu-"

The demon's head cracked backwards, his head pointed up as Satres pulled his hand back. The raven shook his head as the creature slowly pulled its head back down, groaning and rubbing his chin and nose.

"Ow...fuck, ow. Just having conversation here."

"Lewd, annoying conversation."

"Well, you cover the annoying part anyway."

The demon pinched his nose, adjusting the broken piece of his face until it was back in place. Satres shook his head; this was not going to go well, considering that blow would have knocked most demons on their backs. He would have to be faster.

"You have one last chance. Will you go back?"

"Hey, you're the boss, but I got a condition."

"I don't -"

"Bla bla bla. Seriously, just one condition, and if you still want me to go, I'll go."

"...What?"

"Smell this."

The demon reached into his loose pants, rubbing himself along his crotch before pulling his fingers back out. Satres couldn't help but lean back as the demon held up the fingers again; he could see the moisture clinging to them, and he could almost smell the sulphuric fumes from where he stood.

"You must be joking."

"No, I'm completely serious. Like you seem to be all the time. You smell this, and if you still want me to go, I'll go."

"I've heard of demonic corruption. It won't work on me."

"Then you don't have anything to worry about, do you?"

The raven cautiously took a step forward. He could already smell the stench from the demon's fingers, but he knew that the brute wouldn't count it unless he smelled it directly from the fingers. For all the crudity and foulness that it represented, however, he felt that it was his best chance to deal with the demon. All that strength and stamina he had seen so far were not encouraging to him.

He was honestly somewhat surprised as the demon remained still when he approached. He half expected the six armed monster to attack him when he was in range. While it was something he was prepared for, it would still have made tactical sense, allowing the demon to use the strength of those six arms rather than deal with a monk dancing out of his reach. Yet, the creature didn't do anything.

He is very confident...

The raven dismissed his worries. He had trained against the best demonkind had to offer. He wouldn't lose to simple corruption magics.

After a final moment of hesitation, Satres leaned forward and took the slightest of sniffs of the liquid on the demon's finger.

Instantly, his mind swirled with the scent, and he fell on his back. He groaned, thrashing about as his limbs suddenly felt weak, and a need throbbed in his groin. The monk balled his hands into fists as the demon laughed above him.

"Corruption isn't so effective with most demons. Coming from an incubus, however..."

_Incubus?!_That explained the familiarity. But their runes were usually in red or pink, not black. The raven groaned, feeling the lust of demon magic rushing through his body. His cock hurt as the magic swirled down below, and the raven forced himself to bring his hands to his prayer beads, rubbing them, muttering mantras to try and drive the magic out of him.

"Huh. That's weird."

"What...monster?"

"Not nice. Just, usually men are hard as a rock as soon as they smell me. Why aren't you?"

"It's called...discipline."

"I think it's called cheating."

The demon grabbed hold of his pants, and Satres was helpless to stop him as the creature ripped them away. Everything below the waist burned up as the demon ripped it off of him, and the creature paused as he looked down.

"Well, that explains a lot."

Satres looked away, not bothering to dignify the demon's response as his chastity cage was exposed. The thing had been locked on him years ago, just past puberty, so that he would never face the temptations that the sexual demons had to offer. He would not fall now.

"You will not...take me so easily."

"Heh, I guess I'll just need more."

"More? What -"

"Release isn't the only way to have fun. Denial can be just as good."

Satres' eyes went wide at the implications, and tried to stand up. He'd barely lifted his head before the demon crouched in front of him. The incubus was too fast, his own pants dropped and his heavy balls on the raven's beak. The scent, already powerful on the fingers alone, nearly destroyed his mind as he took a direct smell of it.

"I'm not going to touch you, monk. I'm not going to attack, or beat you, or anything. I'm just going to squat above you, and let you keep on breathing. All you have to do to get away is, well, move. But I don't think you will."

#

It took more than an hour for Satres to finally break. The monk lasted longer than most, credit must be given, but eventually, he gave in. Greydrone smiled as the raven rolled over, presenting his feathered rump to him, and chuckled as he stroked himself.

"About time. Just gotta make sure I don't hurt myself on that stick you got shoved up there..."

The End