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Demon Queened (Remastered. For real this time.) Chapter 1 - Queened
🕑 Added 2025-08-30 16:59:34 +0000 UTCSince the original version of chapter 1 remastered was free for all Patrons, I'm going to continue that here! The second chapter onward will only be posted for the $5+ tiers, though.
Devilla
I sat upright in bed, gripping the black comforter tight enough to make my knuckles white. Before I could even open my mouth to call for help, a maid standing by my bedside voiced her concern. “My Queen? Are you alright?”
I gave her a slow nod in response, not trusting myself to speak. The pain that had been threatening to tear me apart was gone, but in its place was a maelstrom of confusion and scrambled memories that I could hardly piece together. The Rite of Insight… it was supposed to give me the knowledge of my ancestors. Despite my flubbing the final word, it had apparently worked—if you were willing to stretch the definition of ‘ancestors’ to include past lives, that is. It was having nineteen years of new memories shoved into my head that had given me such a terrible headache and caused me to pass out. Even now that things had settled, there was still a lot to sort through.
For one thing, I had apparently been a man in my last life. My name had been Jacob Divington. I was, at the time of death, a high school graduate. I’d worked as a bag boy, trying to save up some money, and held vague plans to attend college after a year or two. I’d lived in my parents’ basement, and died in what I could only imagine to be a car crash, having fallen asleep at the wheel on my way to work.
It was rather strange to know that I had died once already, but since I’d recovered all my past life memories in this new world it hardly seemed to matter. It was even stranger, though, to know that I had once been a straight human man rather than a lesbian fallen angel. I wondered briefly whether this would have any effect on how I identified, but I honestly didn’t think it would pose a problem; I’d lived for twenty-one years as a woman already, and had no complaints about it so far.
There was something else that worried me, though. The game Jacob had been playing before death, Tower Conquest, had taken place within Dimona Tower, where I now lived. It had involved defeating ten Demon Generals, all of whom I recognized from my own life. And the Demon Queen who was treated to such a cruel fate at the end of the game had been named Devilla Satanne.
For a moment, I was desperately tempted to deny it. I wanted to roll about in bed, screaming and crying like the brat I had been throughout my life so far. At the same time, I wanted to curse my past self for being such a terrifyingly detestable being that even my own Demon Generals would turn against me. In favor of a Heroine, no less!
In the end, though, I had no choice but to accept the truth. I had been reborn as the villainess of a porn game. Or an erotica game, if I were to give Alice’s nomenclature any weight. Not that it really mattered. Not compared to one little detail I’d been trying to ignore—the fact that I was currently the same age as Devilla had been in Tower Conquest.
Anger and despair both welled up within me as I finally confronted that fact, but I squashed both down deep. I desperately wanted to curl up in a ball and cry, but there was no time for that. In the worst case scenario, Lucy could arrive at my gates tomorrow—though considering that she would have been born nine months after me, I should theoretically have that long until she reached the same age she’d been in the game. Still, that left me with less than a year to find a way to save my people from extinction, defeat the Heroine, or simply escape the tower.
The first option seemed impossible. Even with two lives to draw on, I was still only working with the combined experiences of a spoiled princess and a bag boy. The second option, meanwhile, felt rather pointless. If my Generals all ended up supporting the Heroine, then it would hardly matter whether I won the fight or not. My life as Queen would already be over.
In that case, wouldn’t it be better to simply escape? It seemed selfish at first glance, but it wasn’t as if my presence was actually helping anyone. Most of the time I only managed to get in the way. If I left, my Generals would be free to run the country as they wished. They might even be able to find a way to defend against the Heroine and maintain sovereignty.
…Though I suppose that would only be delaying the inevitable. There’d still be another Heroine after all, and the next one likely wouldn’t be as compassionate as Lucy. If we got a particularly vicious one and there wasn’t a Demon Queen around to face her, demonkind really could end up extinct.
Even if I wasn’t doing the best job of leading or even getting along with my people, I still didn’t want to see them killed. If possible, I wanted those who’d been supporting me so far to live happy lives. Ideally, they would be able to achieve the same peace with humanity that they found in the game, just without the part where I lost to Lucy.
I considered the matter for several minutes, trying to examine the issue from different angles. I couldn’t simply run away. If my Generals weren’t desperate to get rid of me, there was little chance they’d accept Lucy’s proposition of peace. Defeating Lucy, on the other hand, would leave me with ten weakened Demon Generals who hated me. Even if I managed to hold onto power and replace them all after the fact, it was likely that the church would take advantage of our weakened state whether they had a Heroine or not. Replacing the Generals preemptively wouldn’t do me much good, either. Even if I could find powerful substitutes, who somehow actually liked me and could be trusted to remain loyal, there’d be no chance to train them for the job. Removing ten experienced Generals in favor of ten inexperienced sycophants was just asking for trouble.
I needed a way to secure my people’s future without sacrificing my own. It was a tall order, and for a while my thoughts simply went around in circles.
Then it hit me. A smile began to spread across my lips, gradually transforming into a manic grin. If I wanted to secure a future for my people, I needed my Generals to rebel against me. If I wanted to avoid meeting a bad end, I needed to run away. I had been looking at these two things as mutually exclusive, but did they truly have to be? Yes, I did need to be present in order for the Generals to rebel against me, but I didn’t need to be present after the fact. So long as I was there when Lucy entered the tower, I could simply give a hysterical command for my demons to protect me, then run away in secret. Even when my people eventually realized I wasn’t there anymore, it would be too late for them to put together a better offensive or designate a new leader. They’d have no choice but to take Lucy’s offer of peace.
But what would happen to me? Running away meant losing my place in this world. With all of demonkind hating me, I’d have no choice but to hide among humans—who also hated me, mind you.
That said, concealing myself amongst them likely wouldn’t be impossible. Since this world didn’t have photographs, no human should have any idea what I looked like. A little dye would cover up my pure white hair, and I could pass my black nails off as painted and avoid manifesting my wings. My violet irises might still catch attention, but since Lucy herself had orange eyes I didn’t think they would be a deal breaker. The only real concern I had was for how I’d manage to support myself out in the wider world. Perhaps as an adventurer? I could exterminate monsters, guard caravans, or perhaps gather out-of-the-way magical ingredients. Even if I needed to hide my inhuman strength, my magic capacity was high enough that I’d never once run out. Surely someone who happened to be born with a high capacity would be easier to ignore than someone who’d built up incredible strength.
I only had one real concern about this course of action. Namely, I feared that I might lack what this world viewed as common sense. I didn’t know how to cook, for example—not in a world without modern ovens or stoves. I also didn’t know how to wash my own clothes without a washing machine. I didn’t even know what local human currency was called or the price of common goods and services. I could maybe get past the last two by pretending to be a foreigner, but bluffing wouldn’t help to clean my clothes or fill my belly.
My preferred way of handling this would be to simply learn the skills for myself in the time I had left. Cooking was my main priority, followed by cleaning. Thankfully, I at least knew the basics of sewing thanks to the Home Ec lessons I’d taken as Jacob. Still, I wasn’t going to turn down the chance to improve that either.
How exactly was I supposed to master those skills, though? As Queen, I couldn’t exactly head into the kitchen and ask the chefs to teach me. Or rather, I could, but I’d draw far too much attention for doing so—and far too many questions, as well. I needed a private tutor. Someone who knew the profession, whom I could control, and trust to keep silent. Someone no one would raise an eyebrow at, whether they were walking into my bedroom or busying themselves in a kitchen….
It didn’t take me long to come up with an answer. Compared to figuring out how to save both myself and my people this one was quite obvious. In fact, the answer was currently making a rather large point of not staring me in the face.
Turning my attention to the maid who’d spent this entire time standing silently by my side, I gave her a quick once-over. She was a succubus, with blonde hair that had been cut right above the shoulders, with a little curl at the end of her tresses. I thought perhaps I recognized her, but it was difficult to say. I had never paid much attention to my maids before now.
That was about to change.
I let my thoughtful frown shift into a friendly smile. The maid seemed to stiffen under my gaze, and I thought for a moment that I was somehow seeing terror in those pitch-black eyes of hers. I hoped it was just my imagination.
“You there,” I started, wishing I’d bothered to learn her name. “How would you like to be my personal maid?”
***
Maid
***
“My Queen? Are you alright?” I asked. I was careful to keep my head bowed and my eyes focused on the bed, instead of the Queen herself. Looking directly at Devilla was a great way to get slapped, and that was back when she was just a Demon Princess. I didn’t even want to imagine what sort of punishment she’d come up with now that she was actually Queen.
That said, my question got a nod from the Queen but pretty much nothing else. Usually, she’d spout some nonsense about how great she was and maybe threaten to throw me into the dungeon for doubting her. The fact that she’d just nodded was… actually a bit worrying? Whatever happened at the coronation must have taken a lot out of her. It almost made me feel bad for her, but I knew sympathy would just be wasted on the spoiled brat. Not only that, it would probably end up being thrown back in my face if I tried.
After nodding, though, the Queen went absolutely silent. Standing next to her, my head stayed bowed but eyes shifted their focus towards her. I knew the risks of doing it—I’d literally just thought about what a bad idea it was—but she was actually worrying me a little, and considering the coloration of my eyes I was willing to bet she wouldn’t be able to tell.
The silence dragged on. I was kinda hoping that she’d either command me to do something or dismiss me, but instead she just kept staring off into space. I was starting to wonder how long I’d be forced to just stand there in silence when the Queen’s frown suddenly shifted into an evil grin. I didn’t know what was going through her mind, but I sure as hell hoped that it wouldn’t affect me. Or any other innocents, for that matter.
I expected her to give me an order after grinning like that, but she didn’t. Instead, her grin shifted into a frown; she seemed lost in thought. Had she hit a snag? It didn’t seem to last long, if so, because soon that wicked smile was back on her face.
Aimed right at me.
“You there. How would you like to be my personal maid?”
My head snapped up from its bowed position, and I openly stared at her in shock. I knew full well that I was asking for trouble, but I didn’t really care. I fully expected her to either slap me for my insubordination or take back the offer. Maybe both. Which would be fine by me, honestly—just so long as she didn’t make me take the job.
The Queen did neither, though. She just looked at me all expectantly, as if she was honestly just waiting for me to reply. But how exactly was I supposed to respond? I mean, even ignoring the fact that I didn’t want to do it, I was pretty sure that sort of job was supposed to be reserved for members of the upper echelons? Like someone from one of the noble bloodlines, or at least the daughter of a wealthy merchant. I was just the daughter of a prostitute. And not even a high-end one! Making connections with my family wouldn’t do anything for her!
Wait. Maybe she thought my family was rich? I mean, considering the fact that she didn’t even know my name, there was pretty much no way in hell she’d have any idea about my financials. She probably just assumed that I was someone of use because of my uniform—rather than just a former prostitute who came looking for high-paying work nobody else wanted to take on. If I told her the truth, maybe I could get out of this?
I bowed my head again, but not before sneaking a quick glance at Devilla’s face. She was still staring at me, though the smile was gone. Her gaze was calm, almost gentle, but there was no way in hell I was going to be fooled by that. She was definitely plotting to hurt me if I didn’t do what she asked.
Well, I’d deal with it. Devilla wasn’t exactly imaginative with her punishments, after all—it would probably just be a few days in a relatively well-kept dungeon cell, which was way better than having to serve her for who knew how long. At least when it came to the prison sentence people were pretty understanding. It happened all the time, after all.
“I-I’m just the daughter of a prostitute, my Queen,” I explained, adding a little quiver to my voice. I always pretended to be a little scared when I was around Devilla. It was easier to fake than respect, and it honestly didn’t seem like she could tell the difference. “I’m not worthy of such a position.”
I’d hoped that bit of acting would be enough to get me out of it, but to my disappointment Devilla shook her head and said, “That’s of no concern to me. In fact, knowing you come from a common background only makes me want you all the more.”
Well fuck. I wasn’t sure exactly why she wanted someone of common birth, but there was no way she had anything good planned for me. It wasn’t like I could just say no, though—not when the Queen herself was asking me. Especially not when that Queen was a brat like Devilla. My last hope was to get the Queen to change her mind, somehow, and for that I only had one weapon at my disposal: the truth. Or a partial version of it, at any rate.
“If I worked here full time, I wouldn’t be able to eat.” I spoke slowly, as if explaining myself to a child. Devilla was infamous for sleeping through her lessons, as well as ignoring any info that inconvenienced her, so I couldn’t actually be sure how much she knew about my species. Or that she’d even care to listen, now… but hey, it was worth a shot, right? “Succubi like me need to have sex to survive. That’s why I work as a prostitute on my off days.”
Again, partial honesty was the name of the game here. I was really banking on the idea that Devilla wouldn’t know enough to realize I was full of shit—I didn’t need sex, just lust, and I could gather plenty of that just hanging around my mom’s business after hours. It wasn’t nearly as much fun as participating, though.
“I see,” Devilla murmured. From the look on her face, you’d think she was actually considering what I had to say. I’d mostly expected her to just get mad at me for not agreeing off the bat and to take the offer back as ‘punishment.’
“Then, in that case… would sex with me be acceptable? We could do it whenever you get hungry.”
“I….” Sleep with her? I didn’t want to sleep with her! She had, like, no experience in sex whatsoever! Up until now, she’d always complained that there was nobody worthy of her attention. I didn’t know why the hell she’d suddenly decided some random succubus maid was ‘worthy,’ but there was no way in hell that she’d be good enough in bed to make up for her awful personality. I couldn’t really picture her being open to tips on the subject, either.
“I’m really not worthy,” I insisted. “You’d definitely be better off asking one of the other maids. I can introduce you to a good one? Rakeel’s mother is a wealthy merchant, so I’m sure she’d be a better fit for—”
“No!” For some reason, Devilla almost seemed a touch panicked as she made her response. It was hard not to raise an eyebrow at it. “I mean… I want you.”
“I’m flattered, your majesty,” I lied, trying not to gnash my teeth or otherwise be too obvious. I wanted to piss her off enough to punish me, but at the same time I didn’t want to lose my current job. It was a delicate line, to be sure, and I had no clue how well I was walking it. “Can I think about it? My shift is almost over, and I’m growing quite hungry….”
“In that case, why don’t I feed you myself?” Devilla suggested, tossing off her comforter and slipping her feet into the high heeled shoes she always kept by her bed. Not a surprise, since she pretty much never got out of bed without them. “…Unless you don’t want to, of course?”
Queen Devilla almost looked hesitant with those last words, like she was actually concerned about what I thought, but I wasn’t fooled. She was pressing me slowly but surely into a corner. Without an easy way out, I relented, offering the Queen a little curtsy before moving to undress her.
Most demon clothing was built with an eye toward easy removal, especially among succubi like myself, but the Queen’s outfit was for the coronation, so it put form over function. Unfortunately, that meant that the buttons weren’t only in the back, but were also really tiny and difficult to work with. It took me almost three minutes just to get them all undone.
Once that was finished with, though, it was just a matter of tugging the top off Devilla’s shoulders and then pushing the rest of her dress down to the floor. Within half a second of the final button being undone, I had a nude Demon Queen standing before me.
It wasn’t my first time seeing her naked, mind you. I’d helped Devilla undress plenty of times. It was a little different, though, knowing that she was naked for me. I’d never appreciated just how fat her ass was, for example. It looked like a simple slap would cause it to jiggle beautifully, and I had to physically grab hold of my wrist to hold it back.
Her front side wasn’t bad, either. She had a slender waist, small enough that I could reach around it with a single arm. Her pussy was clean-shaven, but I could see just a touch of white stubble right above her tight slit. Her breasts were like melons, the sort that would sit heavy on your palm, and her nipples were pretty pronounced. They were stiff, too, and judging from how warm the room was I sorta doubted it was from the cold. Looking again at her slit I could see a faint glistening liquid reflecting the room’s light.
“Does my form displease you?” Devilla asked. She sounded weirdly… hesitant. “I… I will understand if you do not wish to sleep with me.” No, not hesitant. Nervous, I guess? It was actually sorta, kinda cute. Which was weird. I’d never thought about Devilla as ‘cute’ before.
“You look gorgeous,” I assured her, honestly. “I just can’t believe I’m about to fuck a Queen….”
Ah. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to be using that sort of language in front of her? She was smiling, though, so maybe it was fine? Though the fact that she was walking towards me now made me a little bit nervous.
“Now it is my turn to undress you,” she declared, reaching out to gently grip my shoulder and pressing lightly at it, as if urging me to turn around.
“I couldn’t ask you to do that!” I protested, trying my best to pull away. Her grip was light, so it should have been simple, right? Except it felt like my shoulder was caught in some sorta iron vice. I knew the Queen was strong, but seriously?
“Please,” she whispered, her tone almost pleading. “I want to pull my own weight tonight.”
“I… If you wish, my Queen.” I yielded. What else was I supposed to do? Say no? Insist that I pleasure her? Honestly, I was just struggling to wrap my head around the idea that she actually cared about my pleasure for some reason.
Either way, my response made Devilla smile and she immediately urged me to turn around. I did, albeit a bit bemusedly. I wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking for, after all. Buttons? She wasn’t going to find any, if so. My dress was basically held on by a loop around my neck.
That didn’t seem to be much of a setback for Devilla, though. She just took hold of the loop and gently pulled it up and over my head. That alone was enough to let my dress fall to the floor. I wasn’t wearing a bra underneath, either; just a pair of black panties, which I fully expected her to go after next.
Instead, she slipped her arms around my chest and grabbed ahold of one of my tits.
“Eek!” I squeaked in surprise. My tits might not have been as ridiculously huge as the Queen’s, but they were ridiculously sensitive. Just having my nipples rub against the fabric of my dress was often enough to make me squirm. Having my breasts groped like the Queen was doing was enough to make my knees go weak. And then her thumb moved, ever so gently brushing against my nipples before tracing about the inner edge of my areola.
“Does it feel good?” Queen Devilla asked me, leaning in to press her bare breasts against my back. Her lips were less than an inch from my ear, and I could feel her warmth against my skin. Without warning, she leaned in and nipped my earlobe, pinching and tugging with her teeth. That little bit of pain, mixed with the pleasure of her fingers on my chest, caused an embarrassing noise to slip past my lips.
The Queen laughed, sliding her hands down my stomach and over to my hips. Her fingers slid into my panties, and with a swift tug they were off my body and on the floor. Then she released me, taking a step back. I turned as well, wanting to keep her in sight so that she couldn’t pull off another surprise attack. The moment I turned to her, though, she grabbed me by the waist and lifted me into the air, casually throwing me down onto her bed. When I tried to sit up, she placed a hand gently on my shoulder. Except while it may have felt gentle, the strength of her arms meant that I was basically being pinned down without any apparent effort.
“Forgive me if I’m a little rusty,” the Queen apologized, crawling into bed atop me. I had no clue what she was talking about, seeing as how you needed to have experience with something to get rusty at it, but then her thighs were squeezed flush against mine, and her face was right above me, and all thoughts about that little inconsistency flew right out the window. She was leaning in close, and I realized with a start that she intended to kiss me.
Her lips, when they reached mine, were soft and sweet. Her hair smelled like the flowers that sometimes came across the market. As surprising as it was to be kissed by her, it wasn’t exactly bad. I was even starting to relax and lean into it when my defenses were suddenly breached by another unexpected attack. Her tongue had entered me, the slick muscle pressing against the roof of my mouth, sliding its way across my teeth and teasing itself against my own tongue for a moment before pulling back.
There was a grin on her face, I noticed, once she’d pulled back far enough for me to actually catch a glimpse of her expression. I originally thought she intended to get off me, but instead she pivoted a hundred and eighty degrees. That put her pussy directly above my lips, hanging wet and tantalizing above me. But it also put her directly above my own slit.
“Uh… my Queen? Are you about to do what I think you are?” I asked, hardly able to believe it. Devilla might have been a talented enough kisser—much to my surprise—but going down on someone was an entirely different experience. The taste and smell were both pleasant to me, but personal tastes varied widely and it could be a bit overwhelming for a newcomer.
“I am,” Devilla declared. She sounded almost smug about it. “Is that a problem?”
“N-no… not a problem.” I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. “I’m… honored, but are you really sure you want to do this? I could just eat you out if you want. That’s more than enough to feed me.” It was her lust I was really feeding off of, after all, and there was plenty of that wafting off the Queen. It was thick, and tasted surprisingly sweet.
“Nonsense,” the Queen protested, giving a firm shake of her head. I couldn’t actually see it from my current angle, but I could feel her hair brushing against my thighs as she did so. “I want you to feel good too, after all.”
That last part kinda caught me off guard. It was true that lust was only supposed to taste sweet when your partner was legitimately interested in your pleasure, but I kinda assumed that this was just a result of her being an all-powerful fallen angel and Demon Queen and all that. Like, of course she’d taste good.
Having been told she actually did care, though, I could only stare at her in shock. And while I was staring, she made her move. Lowering her head to kiss my slit, she nipped ever so faintly against my inner thigh before licking the spot and then biting it again. Using one hand to support herself on the bed, she used the other to begin rubbing up and down my thigh, each subsequent move drifting closer and closer towards my center. I was already wet, but the anticipation of her finally touching me was making the juices flow even faster.
Where the hell did Queen Devilla learn this? I wondered, too shocked to make a move of my own. I was sure she was a virgin, but even succubi didn’t have a natural talent like this. Maybe it had something to do with the Rite of Insight? But having knowledge about a thing and putting it into practice were two different things… While I was wondering about that, though, Devilla’s hand was growing ever closer to its final destination. Not just her hand, either—her kisses and nips were also climbing up my thighs, and I couldn’t tell whether her hand or lips would reach me first.
It turned out to be a tie. Her fingers touched my outer labia at the same time her lips reached the other side. From there, both moved closer to my inner folds, her teeth ever-so-barely pinching at them while her fingers moved further in, rubbing at the very edge of my opening. I was sopping wet by that point, more than ready to take in a finger or two, and Devilla was more than ready to take advantage. My walls squeezed down on her forefinger as it entered me, but between her strength and my lubrication it was a useless fight. She squirmed her way inside me, right up to the hilt.
Then she moved her thumb. With me having expected an attack from her lips, I was completely unprepared for her to make contact with my clit. The way her short trimmed nail gently teased its way into the narrow space between my clitoris and hood, I would never have thought this was her first time having sex. She swiftly, almost expertly coaxed my clitoris out from under its covering. Then, to my surprise, she pulled her thumb away.
“My Q—” I started to ask what she was planning, but froze when her lips sealed themselves around my freshly exposed clit. Sucking softly at the oh-so-sensitive flesh, I felt her teeth come close enough to brush against my clit, sending a shiver through me as I thought about how she might nip me there next. I wasn’t sure if it was from fear or anticipation.
Regardless, the bite never actually came. Instead, her tongue darted out like a snake’s to touch my button before retracting again. She did this again, and again, each touch making me feel like lightning was shooting through my core. There was a heat building up inside my center, and it was threatening to overwhelm me with every lick.
Then Devilla’s lips separated from my flesh and her thumb took their place, the flat of it teasing my nub in a slow circle before ever so barely pressing in. The contact and the pressure were enough to draw a soft moan from my lips. When she removed her thumb completely, though, that turned into a whimper. I was close to the edge, so hot that I felt like my insides might melt, and I didn’t understand why she was stopping. Was she fucking with me? Was this entire thing some twisted form of punishment? Revenge for not immediately taking her up on her job offer? I wanted to ask, to beg her for more, but I couldn’t. Devilla was the Queen, and I was just a maid. If this was what she wanted to do to me, there was no way for me to stop it.
I had to bite my lips to keep from whining. I was all but certain that this entire thing had just been some sorta cruel prank, by this point. The only thing that confused me was the lust I still felt coming from Devilla. It hadn’t gone down at all; in fact, it was getting stronger by the second.
With Devilla’s own pussy obscuring my vision, I couldn’t see what the Queen was up to, but I could still feel her hair sliding across my thighs as she moved her head. That was the only warning I got before her lips sealed themselves upon my pussy, and her tongue pushed its way into my opening.
The movement of Devilla’s tongue was hesitant at first, in a way her other moves hadn’t been. She seemed to gain confidence pretty quickly, though, and soon she was taking long languid licks, pushing her tongue in deep.
I had to say, while her fingers had been electrifying in their own right, her tongue definitely had its own appeal. It was warm and soft, and its gentle attention caused the heat inside my body to swell. I was close to cumming, spiraling faster and faster towards the edge, and all she had to do was keep it up.
It seemed like Devilla wouldn’t be content with just that, though. She drew her tongue back from my pussy and moved again to kiss my slit. Her tongue pressed against it, a long lick that moved up the hood and then even further, brushing against my sweat slicked blonde landing strip. Then she lowered her head again, sucking lightly at my clit. I was so damn preoccupied from it that I didn’t even notice when her fingers moved to penetrate me again. Not until she shoved two of them inside me.
The sudden entrance, combined with a long kiss to my clit, was enough to finally send me tumbling over the edge. The world went as white as Devilla’s hair as my head slammed back against the bed. I was only distantly aware of my body, and the fact that it was letting out a seemingly endless scream.
When I finally came back to my senses, Devilla was no longer on top of me. She was sitting on the bed with a smirk on her lips and a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. It was only then that I realized I’d completely neglected to return the favor. And now I’d missed my chance….
“I’m sorry, my Queen,” I said, sitting up.
“For what?” Devilla asked, arching an eyebrow. She sounded… confused.
“For not pleasuring you back?” I kinda expected punishment to follow once I brought it to her attention, but what I’d done was honestly inexcusable. Failing to bring someone pleasure in bed was a pretty big faux pas, at least in my book.
To my surprise, though, the Queen shook her head. “It’s fine. If anything, I should be apologizing to you for pushing myself on you so suddenly. I never even asked for your name….”
“…It’s Abigail, my Queen.” I tried to get up so that I could at least give her some sort of curtsy or bow, but the Queen placed a hand on my thigh to stop me.
“Abigail,” she said, looking me straight in the eyes. “Would you do me the honor of becoming my personal maid?”
I honestly wasn’t sure what to say. I’d kinda figured it was a done deal. I mean, I’d already submitted to her in bed pretty much, so I’d expected her to just override any complaints I might have afterward. Instead, Queen Devilla was asking me. Just what had gotten into her?
“If… If you’ll have me….” Maybe it was the mind-blowing sex. Or maybe it was the fact that, for the first time, I actually felt like I had a real choice in the matter. Either way, I honestly felt like there was only one answer I could really give her. “I’d be honored.”
***
Long after Abigail had left for the night, I laid in bed staring at the ceiling. I’d just had sex for the first time in my life. The first time in this life, at the very least—I could remember doing it plenty as Jacob. It was a little different without a dick, but I thought I’d done at least a passable job of it. It had been enough to make Abigail say yes to my offer, at the very least.
With that, I had secured a teacher for myself. Someone who could train me in cooking, cleaning, and perhaps even sewing. I hoped to get along with her… but I knew better to expect anything, in that regard. In fact, I was rather sure she hated me.
After all, regardless of what pleasure I had or hadn’t brought her, Abigail had not touched me even once.
~~~
Many thanks to all my beta readers, including ByteOfBrie, Julx, and Wildfire Darkstar! Also wanna express thanks to paradoxicalWitchling and FallingLeaf, who helped proofread the original version of chapter 1, and - by extension - this prologue.
I suppose I might as well try and provide some form of author's commentary on what's changed in the story? Mostly it's just the removal of Abigail's sadomasochistic tendencies, as they sorta mysteriously disappeared as the story progressed in the original version. Other than that, I was just trying to update the character's voices and the writing style... except it was hard to put my finger on what was wrong with any given line, so I ended up having to rewrite it paragraph by paragraph. It's almost identical, but I doubt you'll find more than a handful of paragraphs that weren't changed at least a tiny bit.
