The Guilty Demon

-Devnik-

I felt a strange ball at the back of my throat.

I swallowed ... Still no good. No matter how many times I tried to dismiss it, but it would not fade away. It made me ... uncomfortable, like a forgotten memory combined with a hint of nausea.

... It is hard to describe.

I looked down at the beautiful Aethling whom I was grasping by the hair. Tears fell freely from her glistening silver eyes. Her pale legs quivered with the effort of standing and suffering an unwanted orgasm.

She looked to be about at her breaking point.

The ball was still at the back of my throat.

Is this ... guilt?

I don't know.

She looked so beautiful. She looked so fragile. She looked so hurt ... and I was the one hurting her.

I dropped her hair as if it burned me.

She thumped gracelessly to the hard wood floor. She squirmed and moaned.

What have I done?

I quickly tear my gaze from the blonde vision tangled in bed sheets on the floor.

I walk back to my desk in a daze, and sit down heavily. My hands cradle my head.

I don't know what is wrong with me. That damn ball still sits in the back of my throat ... and I still couldn't bring myself to look at Maria.

I did this every time I had a mistress. Slowly I'd enslave her using either my magic or my blood ... and then I treat her as chattel ... until she bored me.

Then I savored killing her. After which I moved on to my next tryst.

This time felt different though.

All I knew was the guilt. And it consumed me.

Seconds felt like minutes, minutes felt like hours ... and the moon crept through the skies. Miserably I stared at my desk with my head in my hands.

I didn't know what time it was.

I didn't care.

I felt soft arms wrap around me. I felt hair tickle the back of my neck, and warm breath on my cheek.

"Devnik ... Devnik ... I'm fine ... please look at me ... please just look at me."

I slowly raised my head. Maria was standing behind me, she quickly maneuvered herself into my lap. Her shining silver eyes sought mine.

I couldn't look away.

She was so soft in my lap.

She spoke.

"Devnik ... is that how you treated the other girls?" Her words were soft, as if she were inquiring about the stars or the weather. There was no accusation, in those honeyed words.

I was startled that she knew of my other mistresses. But surprise lead back into the feelings of guilt, and I was miserable again.

"Yes." I said quietly.

She nodded, as if understanding that I dominated and murdered countless young girls before her.

She pressed her head into my shoulder. Her blonde tresses fell in waves on my arm. They were as soft as a silk weave.

"Why couldn't you treat me that way Devnik? I wouldn't resist if you did."

I wrapped my arms tightly around her.

"I can't Maria. Something about you prevents me from using you like that."

She quietly reached up and pecked me on the cheek with her soft lips.

"I'm glad." She said in her same soft cadence. She once again burrowed her head into my chest. I stroked her back gently with the tips of my fingers.