Descent Devil Inside

Trigger warning: this story contains elements of incest, physical abuse and non-consensual sex. If those topics are a turn-off regardless of what the rest of the story includes, then you should probably look elsewhere.

Everyone engaged in sexual activity in this story is over eighteen.

This is a sequel to "Teacher (Devil Inside)" -- reading the first one should not be required to enjoy this story, but I hope you'll do it anyway!

Your comments and ratings are seriously appreciated!

Sir

Finding that I had a son was quite a shock. Finding that I had a son that was conscious while in the womb, probably smarter than me, and looking forward to eventually fucking his moms was... disturbing. And *I* had had a demon living in me for a year.

Janelle and I, along with my son Adam, were determined to find out more about who, or in fact, what he was. We were especially reluctant to bring him into contact with the demon that was sharing physical space with me until we knew more. So we communicated via protected email addresses routed through anonymizing forwarders, in case someone caught on. We also had a bunch of burner phones as additional insurance.

Janelle and Alicia kept me up to date on our son. At six months, he checked out as wildly normal physically, which seemed to frustrate him to no end. He hadn't developed physically enough to talk, but he found that by touching his mother, he could still communicate with her telepathically. That made it a little awkward as they researched his situation remotely, but it was the best they could do for another few months.

I, on the other hand, took on a two-fold mission. One was to use my powers to surreptitiously amass a growing fortune socked away in various offshore accounts, some of which Janelle and Alicia had access to, but some that were purposely hidden. I trusted them. I did not yet trust my possibly part-demon offspring.

The other mission was to do my own research into both what the hell Adam actually was and into whether there was anything I could do to remove the demon from me without jeopardizing other people. That might not have felt as urgent now, since I'd figured out how to feed the demon without killing people. But it was still a priority.

Around the time that Adam hit six months old, I spent a couple of weeks in the libraries at Duke University, near my former home. Duke has a very good religious studies program and a vast library of ancient and scholarly books that I needed to quickly assess and study.

I introduced myself to the head of the Religion Studies department and with some mental nudging, I retained the aid of one of his grad students, an earnest 23-year-old with the completely apt name of Honey. I didn't even bother to concoct a cover story -- I just made them both believe that this was a perfectly normal inquiry and in fact was of vital interest. Honey turned out to be a sex-starved fireball underneath her oversized college sweatshirt, which I put to good use.

In order to keep the demon on a leash, I fucked cute little Honey silly pretty much every day -- sometimes in the reserve stacks of the library, sometimes in the room at the Washington-Duke Inn that I had retained (for free of course), and once in Duke Chapel. She was kind of adorable, sort of a cute Energizer Bunny without the fuzzy ears. But she was a seriously smart young woman, and we did make some progress.

There is a lot of literature on Succubae and Incubi, and some writings on the outcomes of unions between demons and humans, angels and humans, and even demons and angels. But there were only a couple of hints about potential progeny from the union of a demon-inhabited human and another human.

What little we could find referenced a 12th century work called the Benathic Codex that had been translated and transcribed 700 or so years later. Duke did not have a copy but there was supposedly a copy in Charlotte in the library of Queens University, a small private college in the old-money part of town. I fucked Honey raw one last time in her apartment and then headed for RDU to catch a short flight to Charlotte.

I saw a nice couple waiting to pick someone up curbside in their Audi and "convinced" them that they should just give it to me and Uber home with their traveler. I'm sure they were very confused the next day, but I was pretty much out of fucks to give. At least that kind of fuck. I drove east from the airport and found a decent hotel near SouthPark Mall and actually paid for a few nights. Partly because it took less effort and partly because I wanted to maintain a low profile.

I had more than one goal on this side trip to Charlotte. One certainly was to get a peek at the weighty tome that I was here to see. But given that Charlotte is a huge financial capital, I also planned to advance my hidden bank accounts by contacting the right people.

Myers Park Country Club seemed like a good place to make some contacts (i.e., find some marks) as one of the most exclusive country clubs in the area. So after a good night's sleep, I drove the "borrowed" Audi over for lunch. I sat at the bar, chatting up the cute-as-hell bartender while surveying the crowd for banker-types doing power lunches. And I drew a blank.

I mentally surveyed a few potentials but the whole dining room was filled with real estate agents, bored tennis moms, and retirees. It appeared that the power lunch crowd was sticking to Uptown or SouthEnd these days. So I turned my attention to luscious Juliet behind the bar, figuring I would wait until the end of her shift and take her back to the hotel and recharge my batteries.

Then I saw one of the real estate agents I'd mentally passed over get up and head my way, past the bar. She was a hot blonde, early-40s, great shape, super-expensive dye job (and super-expensive boobs) -- real money. She was wearing a white silky blouse over black skin-tight slacks -- professional but sexy. And then I took a peek inside her head and found one of the darkest, most self-absorbed minds I'd ever encountered.

It was immediately apparent that if it didn't benefit her, it wasn't worth her attention. That was illustrated as she walked past the bar and stumbled into me (I might have caused her to do that, maybe, possibly). Her first reaction was to draw back and give me a look that would have melted a lesser man. "Watch it, you clumsy assho--"

Then she saw that I was wearing very expensive, if business casual, clothes and she didn't know who in the hell I was. In other words, I was a potential mark. "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry -- all my fault. I'm Mona," she oozed, holding out a superbly manicured hand to shake.

"Well, hello, Mona. I'm Jefferson. My friend Spencer is hosting me while I find a place to live. So many beautiful houses in this area, no?" I babbled, trying to look wealthy and guileless at the same time -- no easy feat!

"Jefferson, honey! It must have been fate that caused us to bump into one another. I'm the premier sales agent for homes in this area. I would love to help you find your dream home, for you and Mrs...?"

"Oh, it's just me, at least so far. Jefferson Hanes, and thank you for your offer. I was just making some inquiries about who would be best suited to help me with this. I really do want to find just the right place -- big enough for the family that I hope to have, and something big enough to entertain in..."

"Jefferson, darling, if you allow me to work with you, I guarantee we will find the perfect place for you," she gushed, gripping my forearm like she was afraid I would run away. "What is the price range you're looking at?"

I named some stupidly astronomical figure and her eyes got wide, before they narrowed as she tried to figure out if I was for real or not. But I sent trusting thoughts her way and she grinned and said, "I'm sure I can find you just the thing!"

I took a minute to read her as she pulled up some listings on her phone. She had just gotten double-fucked royally by one of the tennis instructors and the club masseuse and I detected no guilt, despite her marital status. In fact, it was clear that she despised her husband and was plotting how to hide most of their money from him before divorcing him.

I'm not a psychiatrist but Mona seemed to me to be a textbook case of narcissistic personality disorder. Except that I wasn't sure if it was really a mental illness or if she was just a bad person. Her aura was blacker than mine and I had a fucking demon living inside me.

She narrowed her search down to a couple of places that she wanted to show me. I could tell they were both seriously overpriced for the market and had undisclosed issues that a buyer would have to deal with. But hell, I wasn't actually planning on buying anything. She had become a new project for me and something to occupy my time while I did my research.

She gave me the address to meet her and walked over to her Land Rover, rolling those taut, round buttocks as she crossed the parking lot. I slipped into the Audi and plugged the address in the GPS while I kept reading her thoughts from a few yards behind her.

Most of her thoughts were for herself, a few specifically about her plot to rob her husband blind and then divorce him. She also thought a little about her daughter, who seemed like a doll-like nine or ten years old -- the kind of kid she would bring out to play with for a few minutes and then put away.

I pulled up the long drive to the house right behind her. It was a huge place on Queens Road, probably 6,000 square feet with a massive lawn out front. As we walked up to the front door, I also noted subtle signs of some quick pre-sale repairs to the exterior, all of which would need to be redone by the eventual buyer.

We walked up the front porch and she opened the over-sized front door in a theatrical gesture, leading me into the large foyer with the double staircase. I'd started amping up her libido while we were still at the country club and she was visibly aroused, her nipples poking through her blouse and the crotch of her black slacks starting to darken with dampness.

"Let's start upstairs and work our way down," she said in a husky voice as she started up the staircase to the left.

Mona

Mona mounted the stairs, putting as much sway in her hips as she could without falling down. She was sure that she had her hook set so deep in her client's jaw that she was almost salivating. The Perkins place had some serious foundation issues, but it showed well and she'd paid off most of the inspectors in the area. If she could land this whale, she thought, he'd cover her salon expenses for the next ten years.

She topped the massive staircase and turned to her left, strutting to the master suite. The king-sized bed with its massive carved headboard was quite the eyecatcher. She turned to make sure her mark was still with her and then screamed as she saw the naked green demon entering the room behind her.

She wanted to turn and run and maybe even jump out the window, but she felt compelled to look. It was over eight feet tall, green, scaly, with way too many sharp teeth. Then her terrified gaze lowered and she saw the horrifying cock, as big around as a wine bottle and at least a foot and a half long. At that, she screamed again and started to black out.

As she slumped against the wall, she heard the demon utter a word that she couldn't quite make out. But her body reacted, and her mind recoiled in terror. Her finely tuned, gym-hardened body straightened up and she saw her face in the mirror form a leering grin as she felt herself quickly get even more aroused.

She screamed in her head and tried to run, but her body was no longer hers to control. Instead, she helplessly watched herself seductively unbutton her blouse and shrug it off her shoulders, followed by her bra, freeing her perfect breasts which she cupped with both hands for a moment before reaching down to unzip her slacks.

She dispensed with them quickly, leaving her in just her heels, thigh high stockings and thong. She walked over to the terror standing inside the door and reached up to pull its head down to her. Her lips met its scaly mouth, and her tongue explored its depths, encountering its long, thick, forked tongue while her mind screamed silently in terror and disgust.

The monster thrust his tongue into her mouth, extending to an impossible length until she could feel her throat bulge around its thickness as it jabbed its way far beyond any cock she'd ever had. And she had had some huge cocks while she played around behind her husband's back.

She felt a clawed hand reach down behind her and rip her thong off her. Despite her best efforts, her pussy was gushing with desire and need. She tried to turn her mind off, but whatever was controlling her body was making sure she was awake and aware of every degrading thing that happened to her.

Her hands reached down against her will, trying to encircle the horrendous cock that was pressed against her chest between her breasts. As hard as she tried not to, she looked down to see the massive member rising almost to her shoulders -- green, knotted, with a bulbous head that seemed as big as a softball.

Her mouth lowered the few inches it took for her to take as much of the demon cock into her mouth as she could. She felt her jaw crack as she forced her mouth open further to take in the entire thing. The head filled her mouth, and she tongued it as best she could, before whimpering as it was withdrawn from her.

Her rational mind knew that being fucked with that thing would kill her, but her body did not care even a little bit. She flopped back onto the bed, holding her stocking-clad legs as wide as they could go, exposing her wet and wanting cunt to the monster standing in front of her.

She screamed in both agony and ecstasy as the demon cock forced its way into her, the monster clawing at her perfect breasts, raking red lines of almost-cuts across them. Even the part of her mind that she still owned, the part that was almost delirious with terror, realized that her body was feeling pleasure through this new pain.

As the demon pulled back and started to push further into her, she was sure that this was it. At least she would be out of her misery. But somehow her body... changed. She felt a little shift here, a little slide there and suddenly she had eighteen inches of monster dick buried in her pussy, and beyond. She looked down to see the huge knob pressing against her abs from the inside like some alien creature trying to be born by ripping her apart. She screamed with pleasure, as her body was wracked with spasms from the biggest orgasm she had ever experienced.

The demon withdrew almost a foot of penis and she still felt fuller than she'd ever felt in her life. Then it sawed back into her until all eighteen inches of monster cock were buried in her again. Her modified body was now built to take it and she pulled the demon's face down to hers as it sawed in and out of her.

The monster gave a roar and pulled out of her, leaving her feeling like an empty shell. The demon's head went back and the huge cock gave a jerk, then another, as black viscous jizz spurted over Mona's perfect chest and onto her upturned face. She gave an involuntary giggle and rubbed the black goo into her breasts before scraping everything she could reach on her face into her mouth. That was the last thing she remembered before blacking out.

Sir

I rearranged Mona's internal organs back to where they were supposed to be. I was getting pretty good at doing that quickly. The trigger word had worked as I'd planned, her body becoming a vessel of nothing but lust while her mind had zero control. I had been working on using trigger words for a bit, to make it easier to control multiple people at the same time. I had additional trigger words that I had lodged in Mona's brain while we first talked that I planned to use later that day.

I screened myself from her view as she woke up, screaming a little again before realizing that she was alone. She dragged herself to the master bath and attempted to clean herself up, washing off the remaining jizz, doing what she could with her hair and trying to repair her clothes. I give her credit for preparedness as she produced a lavender blouse from her over-sized Hermes bag to replace the one she'd been wearing.

She had another showing at 3pm a few streets over, and I was amazed at how quickly she got over the trauma and put it behind her. You could say that it was professionalism, but I could read her thoughts and knew that it was pure greed. She was sure she was going to get a sale with the next couple, and she was going to make a huge damn commission.

I followed her as she drove the four blocks to the house, certainly a mansion in my eyes, having grown up lower-middle class. She opened the key box and unlocked the door, quickly going through the house and checking to make sure nothing was out of place before the potential buyers arrived. I followed her in and made myself at home.

She heard the doorbell and checked herself in the mirror once more before opening the door to her... "victims" is the word she thought. "Hi, Frank! Hi, Marge! Welcome to your new home!" she said with what I thought was a greasy smile. But they seemed to be under her selling spell.

I followed, unseen, while she gave them a tour. Frank and Marge were older, mid-fifties, the age that most people start to look for something smaller, but Marge had come into a lot of money from her aunt, and they wanted something that befitted the new "status" that they felt like they had achieved. I was pretty sure that they would be broke in 2-3 years.

They were suitably impressed, overlooking the flaws and the many impracticalities of the place. So I decided to help them out by dissuading them from going through with a deal. As they went back to the huge gourmet kitchen to talk about terms, I stood behind Mona, still invisible, and whispered, "whore."

She didn't stop talking about the price or the amenities or the cachet of the neighborhood as she started to unbutton her blouse, shrugging it off her shoulders before reaching back and unlatching her bra. "So, Frank, want to fuck to seal the deal? Or how about you, Marge? I'd be happy to have a three-way if that's your kink." She started towards Frank, ready to kiss him before pulling his trousers down.

Frank seemed to have no idea how to react, but Marge did, grabbing her husband by the arm and pulling him towards the front door. As they turned around, they could see back into the kitchen and Mona, sitting on the counter with her slacks off and legs spread apart, frigging herself with a wine bottle.

As the front door slammed, Mona slumped forward, the wine bottle slipping from her hands as she screamed in frustration. I kept the wine bottle from breaking on the tile kitchen floor -- no reason to waste good vino, right?

I expected Mona to blow off the rest of the day and go home to drink herself into a stupor, but I had to give her credit for her ability to throw off the terror and confusion of the day. I could 'hear' her pushing the craziness to the back of her mind to deal with later while she figured out how to manage the rest of her day.

Her agency (and it was HERS, make no mistake about it) had a weekly meeting of all the agents at 5pm on Wednesdays and this was the day. It was Mona's weekly opportunity to put everyone in their place and make sure they knew damn well who was boss. So she was not going to miss it.

I followed as she stopped off at the liquor store and grabbed a pint of bourbon before heading back to the office. It was an hour or so before the meeting, so Mona brushed past the couple of people that were in the main office and slammed the door of her private sanctum behind her. She uncrewed the top of the bottle and took a big swig and then another before collapsing into her plush desk chair, trying to stop shaking.