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Milked by the Incubus

Demon Slave #1

by Ruby Thurston

© 2017 Ruby Thurston

All rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction and all characters portrayed are 18 years of age or older. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Cover Art: Ruby Thurston (stock images used are free and/or licensed via Shutterstock)

Author's Note: This work contains explicit sexual content and is intended for adult readers only!

About the Author: Ruby Thurston brings her fantasies - and yours! - to life on the page with her well written trash <3

Twitter: @rubyrotica
Facebook: facebook.com/rubyrotica
Patreon: patreon.com/rubyrotica

About this book:

In a world where demons have taken over earth, Zoe Miller sees one way to ensure her safety and future: volunteer to become a sex slave to a demon master. She chooses an incubus to lead her into the dawning age of demon dominance, expecting him to transform her into the perfect busty pet, bursting with cream for him to drink.

But Gadriel is no typical incubus. One mistake—seducing another, more powerful prince's lover—cost him his crown and most of his powers. Reluctant to accept his new life as a mere lust demon and governor of Northern California, Gadriel takes on a human. He plans to use her only for nourishment purposes and as a reward for his loyal hellhound—a slave for his slave.

With her lofty demonic dreams smashed, Zoe resolves to give her new masters only what they ask for, nothing more. But despite a frustrating start, immersion in her new life might just be a slice of heaven in a world overrun by hell.

NOTE: contains explicit content intended for adult readers only! This erotic story involves demonic monster menage, creamy fantasy, BDSM, bisexuality, and magical breast expansion.

Milked by the Incubus

Demon Slave #1

by Ruby Thurston

Zoe Miller bounced her foot nervously as she waited in the sparsely decorated office at Eden Acquisitions. There were no identifying personal items in the room—only a desk, two chairs, and a wire rack containing a variety of pamphlets on modern human-demon relations. The large painting on the wall behind the desk depicted a winged demon and a human walking side by side. Above it a bright blue banner with gold lettering hung on golden cords from the ceiling.

Thank you for volunteering!

It had been ten years since the hell gates had opened and demons of all stripes had poured out, taking over the Earth. The humans hadn't gone quietly into the darkness, though. Plenty of armed forces fought back against the hellspawn, others committed suicide in droves. But after the first year it became clear mankind was no match for the demon horde and the humans had fallen in line.

Things hadn't changed too much for most people, except those forced into slavery under demons. Or those poor souls who'd once been orphans or homeless, bred for meat and milk like cattle, never knowing life outside the sprawling communes that were human farms. Humans still living in society had rallied back, called for fair treatment of all humans in captivity. As part of the appeasement process, a lottery system was put into place, and every human reaching the age of eighteen had to enter for a chance to win a lifetime of servitude to a demon.

But there were people like Zoe, too. People who wanted to serve. Who had a particular type of demon in mind to bow down to with a grateful heart and a knot of hot excitement in their groin.

I'll get what I want out of this. That's all that really matters now. Zoe knew what she needed, and it was deceptively simple. She'd made her decision, chosen the path of least resistance. And all she'd leave behind was a rote life of office drudgery, and friends and family who refused to accept how much the world had changed or how much it was going to keep changing until humankind was no longer allowed its own society.

And in return? She'd get the body she wanted from lust demon magic and more sex than she'd know what to do with. Her new master might put her to work, or he might keep her at home, or parade her about in public. The more she considered the possibilities, the more she squirmed in her seat, cheeks flushed, ready to get the damn volunteer process over with before she could change her mind.

A life of doing what I'm told, of not having to stress about decisions or people in my life being taken away from me. I'll have one person—one demon—to worry about, and he'll need me for my body. It's a win-win situation. This is the best option for me.

She reached up to smooth her straight red hair behind one ear, pale hand trembling visibly.

Then why is my stomach twisted up? Why am I so damn nervous?

This was her choice. She wasn't going to wait around for the lottery to maybe choose her one day before she had a chance to live out her life. She wouldn't have to fear ruining the lives of a spouse or children if she became a lottery victim. And if her demon master was fond enough of her, he was likely to use his powers to extend her life and youthfulness.

Which would be great unless he's an abusive, sadistic, monster.

And there it was, the kernel of fear causing a painful lump to form in her throat. She'd be able to choose an incubus, but she'd have no control over which specific demon would be her new master. Not that she'd have a reliable way to choose wisely, anyway.

A gentle knock on the door announced her interviewer's presence, then the demon breezed in, a clipboard in hand. He was tall, build like a bodybuilder whose suit barely contained his thick musculature, and sported heavy black horns that curved back over his bald head.

"Hello. You must be Miss Miller. I'm Dakron, your interviewer and, hopefully, your case worker." He smiled around prominent incisors jutting up over his top lip and held out his hand. His deep red skin was striking, but wasn't anything Zoe hadn't seen before. She couldn't tell what type of demon he was just by looking at him, though. Definitely not an incubus.

"Hi." Zoe's voice sounded weak to her own ears, but she shook his hand as firmly as she dared. He held back on his strength, giving her a polite, loose grip before taking his seat behind the desk.

"I looked over the volunteer form you filled out earlier." He glanced up at her from the paperwork he'd begun spreading out on the desk. "Sorry for the wait, two of our staff are out on vacation this week."

"Will the process take a long time?" Zoe asked, bouncing her foot as fresh nerves took hold.

"Not at all." Dakron smiled at her again, taking a pen from inside his suit jacket. He handed Zoe one of the pieces of paper from the clipboard. "This is a run down of exactly what will happen to your estate. Given you're not a homeowner, the process will be easier on our end. But that's one of the great things about volunteering—you sign a few pieces of paper, and we take care of the rest. We'll handle closing all your accounts, notifying your family and employers of your status change from citizen to slave, distributing your belongings according to your preferences, and any other sundry minutiae."

Zoe's eyes glazed over as she glanced down at the wall of text. It was part legalese, part information she didn't care about. She knew what she was signing up for. "Do I need to give notice at my work? I don't want to wait two weeks. I just want to... I want to be assigned today. Is that possible?"

Dakron chuckled, his red eyes going wide. "Well, it's been a few years since I've had a volunteer that eager. We do our best to fast track our walk-in clients. But once you sign and initial these documents, you'll be a slave. We'll keep you here in our dormitory until you've been claimed."

"Claimed?" Zoe frowned, unsure what that meant. The lottery assigned humans to demons. Why wouldn't volunteering be the same?

"Yes, this runs a little differently than the lottery system. It's all right there in the fourth paragraph." He gestured to the paper she held with a shrug. "We're like a pound for humans. Demons, typically young people or new immigrants to the realm, come to volunteer agencies to choose their own human instead of waiting for the lottery system to assign one to them. They request a play session to see if the human is to their liking before taking one home. And we offer a thirty-day trade-in service to our demon clients. There's less unhappiness that way."

Zoe swallowed and licked her lips, imagining sitting in a spartan cell, a string of incubi visiting her for a test run. Her heart picked up speed as she thought of being used, toyed with, fondled and... What if I'm not to anyone's taste?

She hurriedly read the fourth and fifth paragraphs, feeling some relief at reading she'd be turned over to the lottery system if sixty days passed without being claimed. Her heart rate refused to calm, though. Especially when Dakron held out the clipboard and pen to her from across the desk.

"Once you've finished reading that, I just need you to initial that you understand you're forfeiting your rights as a citizen and have received our disclosure sheet on what volunteering entails. Then sign here and here to indicate you are volunteering of your own free will, and that you have chosen to become a slave to an incubus."

It was so cut and dry. So bureaucratic. Zoe signed and initialed, heart thudding away in her chest. This was what she wanted, but it was still scary. It was a huge life-changing step. She set the clipboard and pen back on the edge of the desk and placed her hands in her lap. Her eyes settled on Dakron, unsure what she was supposed to do with herself. She wasn't legally a person anymore. She was a thing. Property to be bought, traded, sold. For the moment she belonged to Eden Acquisitions. The employees, including the hulking horned demon behind desk number one, could do anything and everything to her.

Her nipples hardened with arousal against the fabric of her bra.

"Thank you for meeting your fate with eyes wide open," Dakron said after looking over the paperwork, paraphrasing one of the agency's taglines. He looked up at her and licked his lips. "I'm sorry you didn't choose pride demons. I'd have taken you home this afternoon."

"I... I don't know anything about pride demons specifically." She flushed at the sudden change in his demeanor. The way his eyes scanned over her made her feel naked. Had she made a mistake? Should she have researched more? "What do you need from humans?"

"Certain pheromones are triggered when humans reach their ideal state. Physical manipulation is the easiest and safest, though it can take some work to fine-tune. So long as they feel superior, arrogant, every scent and secretion will nourish a pride demon. We usually build quite the harem. Keeping our slaves in competition with one another, begging for perfection and our attention, is ideal. You would've been a perfect number ten to add to my collection. I don't have any redheads." He cocked his head and beckoned her with a crook of his finger, swiveling to the side in his chair. "As your case worker, it's my job to assess your current abilities and needs. I'll add the information to your file for prospective owners. Come around here and kneel. Hands behind your back, eyes on the floor."

* * *

Zoe did as he asked, her eyes scanning over the thick bulge running down one leg of his trousers while she sank to her knees at his feet. Her eyes went wide, but she kept them on Dakron's black and white wingtip shoes. Hopefully he wouldn't ask too much of her during this assessment. She wasn't inexperienced, but she'd only ever been with human men with average equipment. Dakron was packing a real monster.

"Very good," he murmured and reached out to stroke her hair, feeling the strands and letting them slip through his fingers. His touch became more firm, caressing her head and massaging her scalp with his large hand.

Zoe's eyes slipped closed at the comforting sensation and she felt her shoulders relax. This is nice. Unexpected, but so nice.

While he petted her, she wondered if she'd worn the wrong outfit for her volunteer gig. She'd gone for plain in jeans, sneakers, a flower-print camisole and her favorite hoodie after agonizing about the choice. Sexy might have made more sense, but she'd felt ashamed of her decision to volunteer. She hadn't wanted anyone on the bus or passing her on the street to guess where she was going or what she wanted. But now she felt underdressed. Or maybe overdressed. Would that hurt her evaluation? Was he judging everything about her?

She wanted to look up at him, to catch his expression, but she fought the urge. He'd told her to kneel there with her eyes downcast and she'd do it. She'd prove she'd be an obedient slave.

I am an obedient slave.

His warm fingers trailed down the side of her face, following the contour of her cheek to trace over her lips. They parted automatically for him, anticipating that he might dip one digit into her mouth. But he only smoothed his thumb over her full bottom lip and down her chin. As soon as he withdrew his hand to sit upright, she missed his warmth and attention. Her shoulders tensed again as she braced herself for anything.

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