Chapter 3: Chapter 3

I slumped onto a leather couch, unconcerned about dignity. I was wearing a backless black halter top, with a boob window, that ended somewhere north of my midriff. My red skirt, which ended barely halfway down my thighs, was so small that even my Devilla side was a little embarrassed to be wearing it. And now I was sprawling myself out on a couch, thighs spread, with my black panties utterly visible to the world. One could safely say that I had given up on modesty as well.

Then again, demon queens weren’t actually expected to be modest, were they? Today’s outfit was the result of me telling Abigail I wanted to, “dress to impress,” and I couldn’t deny that it had done the job. At the very least nobody had given me trouble when I demanded entry to the royal vaults, using the excuse that I wanted to take one of our national treasures for my own use.

It had all been for nothing in the end, though. True, I got a fairly decent magic item from it, but my real goal - rereading the Rite of Insight - was a total bust. I had gotten my hands on the spell again, without much issue, but no matter how many times I read the spell nothing more had happened. No light, no darkness, and no insight. That knowledge could have been really useful to me, too, so I was fairly distressed.

“You seem pretty upset,” Abigail remarked, walking into the room behind me. “Did your new toy not bring  you any joy?”

“It is a national treasure, not a toy,” I told her, firmly, frowning. My ancestor had only brought two items down from the heavens, after all, and - putting aside the collar Lucy used on me in the game - they were the only enchanted item I knew of in this world. We’d lost the indestructible sword during the last war, making the item I held even more precious.

Abigail, however, did not look impressed. “Weren’t you the one who said you wanted to ‘play around with it’?”

“Urk… Is it just me or have you grown more and more pointed in your remarks?” I asked, attempting to change the subject. It was true that I had made a comment along those lines, but it had all been an attempt to keep up appearances. I needed to keep things on track for my people’s eventual rebellion.

“Why don’t you whip me for misconduct, then?” Abigail suggested. “Or you could put me on the rack in the dungeons. Or you could even paddle my ass a bit during sex tonight. It might even make you feel better.”

“What? No. Your insolence aside, I do not see how punishing you would do anything for my mood.”

“Really? You always seemed to like punishing people in the past,” Abigail pointed out, raising a blonde eyebrow.

“Urk…” She’d gotten me again. “Th-that was then, this is now. I enjoy your company far too much to enjoy punishing you for no reason.”

For some reason Abigail looked a little dejected when I delivered that news, her shoulders slumping and her head hanging low. Was it that much of a blow, knowing that someone as reviled as I enjoyed her company?

After a long moment, Abigail let out an even longer sigh. “If you won’t punish me, then what will help? Do you want to call a musician for a song? You want the chef to cook your favorite meal? It’s depressing watching you mope like this.”

“I am not in the mood for music right now,” I confessed. “And the chefs cannot make my favorite food…” Ahhh, I wanted fries. Potato chips, too. Salty and delicious… I had not had either of them once, as Devilla, but the mere memory of them was enough to make my mouth water. “If only we had oil…”

“Huh? Of course we have oil,” Abigail told me.

“What?” I jumped to my feet. “Where does it come from? Why have I not used it yet? Is it expensive?”

“It’s peanut oil,” Abigail informed me. “And it’s affordable, I guess. We haven’t used it yet because you’re a novice, and I didn’t want you splattering hot oil all over yourself. I’m surprised you even knew that you could cook the stuff, and not just, like, pour it on your enemies.”

“I learned it from the Rite of Insight,” I lied. Lying came with a surprising ease to me, in this life, thanks to years of practice as Devilla. My conscience wasn’t entirely at ease with it, but there were some things I just wasn’t ready to tell anyone. Like how this world had been used as the setting of a porn game in my last life.  “Now what about potatoes? And salt. I haven’t seen salt at all.”

“I’ve never heard of... poe-tay-toes?” Abigail informed me. “And we all ran out of salt years ago.”

“...Yes, I suppose that would be the case,” I sighed. I’d been learning to cook over the last three days, and had added bacon, sausage, and eggs to my repertoire. I’d used a fair amount of spices during that time, too. Apparently we grew the stuff ourselves, alongside all our other food, with the aid of magic. Which was probably actually the crux of the problem. We couldn’t grow salt.

“Still, I really want to eat something salty,” I muttered to myself. “Let’s see, salt, salt… I don’t even know where to begin with mining the stuff… but there’s plenty of it in the sea, right?” 

I turned my attention to Abigail, a slow smile slipping across my lips. Abigail’s response was to shudder a little, and take a step backwards. A little rude… But I wasn’t going to let it bother me. Not when I was so close to an idea. “Abigail. I require a map of the continent. Including our current location and the location of as many human settlements as possible.”

“Yeah, that sounds like military intelligence?” Abigail suggested, frowning. “I think you’d need to talk to general Mifa about that.”

Ah. The harpy general, on the fortieth floor. It was perhaps obvious to put the fliers in charge of reconnaissance, and even I hadn’t been stupid enough to mess that up. Hopefully Mifa had been doing a decent job of it, too, because I’d never really checked.

“Very well,” I declared, standing upright. “I shall head to Mifa immediately.”

“You can’t be serious,” Abigail protested. “Aren’t there like. Proper channels for this stuff? Shouldn’t you be setting up appointments a week ahead of time?”

“Probably,” I admitted, shrugging my shoulders. “I will have to ask her to forgive my selfishness, one more time. For the sake of my taste buds - no, my people’s taste buds - no, for the sake of the enrichment of our very soul, I swear I shall bring salt to tables across the tower!”

Abigail stared at me for a moment, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. Then her shoulders slumped forward. “I don’t care anymore,” she mumbled. “The rite must have driven her insane, or something. Or maybe I’m dreaming…” 

“You will think you are dreaming when you eat a properly salted dish,” I informed Abigail, grabbing her hand and moving toward a nearby window.

Abigail did not resist, and soon I had I unlocked and opened the window. A tickling sensation ran down my back, a moment before my black wings sprouted, and I moved to stand on the windowsill. It was there, however, that I hesitated.

I had flown many times as Devilla. More times than I could count, really. But not once since I’d recovered my memories as Jacob. I knew, intellectually, that the process had not changed. I should be able to do it as easily as I ever had. It was only that it was a touch scary, staring down at a ground so far away and getting ready to step out into nothingness. In fact, I was starting to get just a touch sick to my stomach.

“Is something wrong?” Abigail asked, exasperated.

“N-No,” I lied, not entirely able to hide my nervousness. I took a deep breath, and centered myself. “I’ll be fine…” I took another deep breath, closed my eyes, and pressed against the windowsill. It was meant to be a small jump, carrying me just far enough out to spread my wings, but I must have misjudged the strength of it because I ended up jumping about twenty feet into the air.

For a moment I hung there, the momentum of my jump tuned perfectly to the gravity of my new world. Then I began to fall, plummeting faster and faster. My eyes were still closed, but I could feel the wind tearing at my body as I fell.

Then my wings pumped, just once, and all movement ceased. It was not like the flight of an actual bird. It did not rely on my strength, or on air currents. It was simply that the act of flapping my wings activated my magic, keeping me afloat with barely any effort at all. It was like a spell - but distinctly not one. For one thing, I could cast other magic while flying. Which was good, since I’d be relying on illusion magic to hide my presence when I was flying above human towns.

“You’re flying like a fledgling.”

“I do not need the commentary,” I grumbled, opening my eyes at last. Abigail was hovering before me. “Do you have the time to waste on such things, anyhow? I do not believe your magic power is strong enough to support prolonged flight.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll just let myself fall down a bit, and then catch myself. And I’ll take breaks at the windows if I need them. That’s how I usually do it.”

“...That is a terrible way of making it down,” I said, flapping my wings to move a little closer to her. Without asking her for permission, I slid my hands about her back and knees, taking her into a princess carry. She let out a little squeak, but didn’t resist. “It is a long way down and I refuse to spend it all falling. It would mess with my hair.” And give me serious nightmares besides. I had done my fair share of freefalling as Devilla, but now I had little things like the law of gravity screaming in the back of my head and telling me not to take any stupid chances. 

“Your hair.” Abigail looked like she was torn between laughing and yelling, but settled for simply crossing her arms instead. “You could have at least asked first.”

“My apologies. Next time I will.”

Abigail blinked, apparently startled, but otherwise remained silent in my arms. For several minutes the only sound was that of my wings, which would flap every few seconds.

“…So…” I started, when I could bear it no longer, “have you been my maid long?”

“...What the hell kinda question is that?” Abigail wanted to know, putting her hands on her hips. “Don’t you know the work history of your own personal maid?”

“You know full well I do not.” It was my turn to glare. “I am aware that I am a flawed hu… I mean. Ah. I am aware of my faults. Perhaps chief among them is the fact that I never paid attention to you, or anyone else. But I am trying, Abigail. And I would appreciate it if you would meet me halfway.”

Abigail was silent for a moment. It was difficult, as always, to tell exactly where her black eyes were focused, but I got the feeling that she was looking me up and down as best she could from her position.

“You’ve changed,” she said, at last. “Ever since the Rite of Insight - it’s like you’ve been a completely different person.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I scoffed. “I am the same Devilla Satanne that I have always been. If anything has changed about me, it is merely that I’ve gained the wisdom and insight of my ancestors.” On the outside, I seemed perfectly calm. My voice was steady, and my gaze was centered on where I thought Abigail’s pupils were. On the inside, I was sweating buckets. My heart was beating like mad and it was only by exercising tight control over my breathing that I avoided the urge to hyperventilate. It wasn’t just fear of rebellion, or not wanting to let Abigail know about Tower Conquest. The terror I felt came from a far more surprising source: if Abigail found out that I used to be human, she would surely hate me.

“...The wisdom and insight of your ancestors.” Abigail’s voice was utterly flat. “Is that how you got so good at sex, all of a sudden?”

“Is that so strange? My ancestors were quite sexual creatures. They left quite a bit of knowledge behind in the archive.” None of that was a lie, so far as I knew. I was pretty sure there was carnal knowledge I couldn’t even dream of in that archive. Not that I’d ever get to find out.

“Knowing how to do something and being able to do it are two different things,” Abigail countered. Emotion had crept back into her voice, in the form of anger. Her wings pressed back against my arms, taking her back up into the air before I could protest.

“You learned my name. You suddenly wanted to know how to cook - but even though you were acting like you’ve never been in a kitchen in your life, you know things I’ve never taught you, like how to cook with oil. Plus you’re suddenly obsessed with the taste of salt, something that hasn’t been in the tower since we were both babies.”

“Th-The rite told me about the salt. It’s supposedly delicious.” My voice cracked a little under the intensity of Abigail’s glare. I felt sweat beading on the back of my neck, too, and it was all I could do to keep meeting Abigail’s eyes. If I looked away, I knew she’d lose all doubt.

“You said the chefs can’t cook your favorite meal without it. A favorite meal that contains an ingredient I’ve never heard of, an ingredient you didn’t know we had, and an ingredient we haven’t had since you were a baby. Who are you?”

“I am Devilla Satanne. Queen of Dimona Tower. If you are so deluded as to not recognize your own ruler, then I do not know what to tell you.” It felt like I was digging my own grave with every word. Abigail was looking more and more agitated, and more than a little disgusted with me, besies. There was also something else I noticed - she was sweating.

Although extreme temperatures in general seemed to have little effect on me, I could still tell that the air was fairly cold, what with us being up so high. Flying wasn’t very physically exhausting, as I’ve already covered. I wasn’t sure what could be causing Abigail to sweat, at all, and I certainly didn’t understand why it was getting more profuse by the second.

“If you… can’t… be honest… with me,” Abigail said at last, panting. “Then I… can’t… help you. I quit.” Saying so, she closed her wings and began to plummet toward the ground beneath. 

I stared after Abigail for a moment, mouth open, but no words coming out. I wanted to go after her, to beg her to reconsider, but I wasn’t sure what I could say. Indeed, she’d made the decision based purely on what I did say, and unless I was willing to come clean and speak the truth I couldn’t see Abigail changing her mind. As such, as much as it hurt my heart, I could do nothing but let her go.

“It’s for the best,” I told myself. “She would have come to hate me, eventually, regardless…” I didn’t know why I’d been so scared of the idea. When I thought about it, her eventual hatred had always been a foregone conclusion. After all, I intended to abandon my people to the heroine, and flee into the sunset. Besides, it wasn’t as if she’d ever actually liked me to begin with. We’d simply gotten to a point where she could tolerate me, for a while, and now we were past the point where she could do so. It was best to think of it that way. I had already learned the bare basics of how to cook, anyway. I could probably figure out the rest on my own. Though I’d still need to find a teacher on how to do laundry.

Below me, Abigail’s wings opened. She came to an instant halt, before a window, and moved toward it. She was somewhere in the vicinity of the sixtieth floor, and I could only imagine she intended to let me pass before heading back up again. The very fact that she’d descended at all, when her home lay above, spoke volumes about how determined she’d been to put distance between us with what magic power she had left at her disposal.

Well, whatever. I would honor her decision, and fly past the window when I reached it. I would not follow her. I would not. I was washing my hands of her. 

Or that was my intent, at least. But then Abigail’s wings suddenly snapped shut. Her hand, outstretched toward the window, snagged hold of the ledge for a moment, but then the weight of her body slammed against the wall and she lost her grip. She was falling down below me, tumbling end over end.

Abigail. The closest thing I had to a companion. The one who was so close to figuring out my secret I could cry. The one who chose to leave me. For a moment, seeing her fall, my mind almost went blank. I had been in the midst of such a torrent of emotions already that I simply didn’t know how to process the event. Yet even as my brain started to shut down, a single thought was running through my conscious, bringing with it an overwhelming impulse. Abigail was in trouble; I needed to save her.

There were many times in the past that I allowed myself to fall, while flying. It was generally accepted to be the easiest way of reaching lower floors. It saved magic power, and since it was easy enough to stop there was little risk associated with it. Just because it was the easiest way of reaching the lowest floors, however, did not mean that it was the fastest. If one truly wished to go somewhere in a hurry, and one was not afraid of the risk of descending too far, there was a far faster method at one’s disposal.

Turning about in midair, I pointed my head toward the ground and moved my wings to flap at the air. I did not flap once every few seconds, as I had so far, but instead kept beating my wings as strongly as I could manage. I poured magic into my flight, simultaneously casting a spell to lower my wind resistance. My mental image was a cone of condensed air, moving with me, helping me to cut through the sky at a speed that would make bullets green with envy.

In an instant, I had overshot my goal, and found myself at the fortieth floor to Abigail’s fiftyish. That was fine, though. I dropped my spell, and cast another, blowing wind magic up toward me and flapping my wings to come to a halt. Then I righted myself, using my wings to hold myself in place even as I continued to send wind rushing up above my head. The gusts I  created caught Abigail, slowing her descent enough that I could safely grab her, and pull her flailing form against my chest. She was deep in panic, arms and legs flailing about, but I simply held her against myself and waited for her to calm.

“Are you alright?” I asked, once Abigail had stopped moving about.

“I… You saved me?” Abigail whispered, disbelief clear in her voice. As dark as her eyes were, I was absolutely sure her pupils were focused on mine.

“Who are you?” she asked, again.

“I am Devilla Satanne,” I told her again. “The demon queen. And your mistress.”

“...I quit, though…” Abigail’s voice sounded numb. Perhaps that was to be expected, though.

“Then you can quit again after we are home,” I told her, firmly. “I will not listen to it until then.”

I expected her to object, but Abigail didn’t say a word. Instead, she gave a slow, unsteady nod, furrowing her brow and looking me up and down once again.

“...In any case, we are here,” I declared. The number “40” was drawn in golden paint above the nearest window. It twinkled lightly in the sunlight, as if to welcome us to our destination. 

Landing lightly on the windowsill, I hopped down onto the narrow strip of landing that hugged the edge of the tower beneath it. I was careful, and made sure Abigail had proper footing, before turning my attention to looking about.

This area was just like in the game. A narrow staircase, winding its way around the outer tower, with empty space where the floor should be. The only solid space, other than the staircase, was a single, massive, iron plated column that started on the thirty first floor and continued to the ceiling of the fortieth. There were perches attached to it, where the various harpies rested. A platform extended from the column, as well, where the floor of the fortieth floor would normally be. The landing I stood on, which marked the end of a long staircase, was connected to the aforementioned platform by a bridge. Another bridge extended from there to more stairs on the other side.

All of this was part of what we referred to as “the battle path,” a narrow route that encircled the tower, leading from the front door to my own throne room. It was the path that human invaders had to take, since they had neither the strength to scale the tower nor the ability to fly. It was a route that the rest of us avoided, for the most part - but it was impossible to avoid when visiting Mifa and her harpies. In fact, other than the battle way, Mifa’s territory didn’t directly connect to the rest of the tower at all. Travel from the forty first floor to the thirty ninth was done through a staircase hidden in the hollow column. If one wanted to directly commute between these floors and the residential districts of the tower they would be forced to use the windows. We didn’t even have a teleportation circle set up for these floors, just to make absolutely sure invaders had no other routes available to them. It was a setup possible only because we had so many flyers.

The ruler of those flyers was currently on a perch, which looked somewhat like a gymnast’s high bar. She was, as one might imagine of the harpy general, a cross between a woman and a bird. That is to say that she had short, bird-like legs, which connected to a mostly human body at the thighs. In place of arms she had wings, reminiscent of a hawk. Both the wings, and her skin, were a reddish brown.

Just like in the game. Mifa wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothes. Neither were the other harpies.

“Queen Devilla!” Mifa called, surprise evident in her voice. “I’m sincerely surprised that you’d get off your fat ass to come see me.”

“I was driven by a great and powerful need,” I told her, not bothering to protest the insult. “I’m quite sure it’ll seem petty - but you will listen to it, all the same, won’t you?”

“As if I had a choice,” Mifa laughed, shrugging her shoulders. The movement caused her breasts to bob, and the way those soft hills jiggled had me momentarily entranced. The bright pink peaks, standing in firm contrast to the dark skin, were practically begging for a kiss. 

It was too bad Mifa had to open her mouth and ruin the effect. 

“I’m curious what would drive such a spoiled girl as you to action, anyway.”

“I need a map,” I said, repressing my annoyance in favor of getting straight to the point. Mifa was never one to hold her tongue; the longer I was here the more insults she would fling.

“A map?” Mifa asked. “Are you planning to go somewhere, my queen? There’s a lot of humans out there, so I really can’t recommend it.”

“I think I am powerful enough to take care of any humans I meet; but I’d rather avoid them. Which is why I was hoping for a map that included human settlements on it.”

“I’m sure you could handle it,” Mifa agreed, shrugging again. I tried my best to ignore the little bounce of tits that accompanied it. “But the heroine will be of age, soon, and I’d rather you not instigate an attack earlier than necessary.”

“As would I - which is why I ask, again, for maps of human settlements?” The last thing I needed was Lucy arriving on my doorstep before I finished my lessons. If I had to flee the tower before I even learned how to do my own laundry, I really would be helpless.

“Sorry - I can give you data on where our settlements used to be. You know, the ones we had to abandon when we all moved into the tower? The ones under the open skies? I hear they were nice. Don’t suppose you have any intention to help the army reclaim them, any time soon?”

“Not at the moment,” I confessed, speaking through gritted teeth. “I’d rather focus on our utter lack of intelligence at the moment, though.”

“Really? I must admit to being curious about that myself - just how dumb are you, Queen Devilla?”

“Dumb enough to put you in charge of reconnaissance, apparently,” I growled, unable to contain it any longer.

Mifa stared at me, coldly. When she spoke she did so slowly, as if talking to a child. “My girls can only fly so far in one sitting. Then they need to land. They aren’t like birds, either, who can just rest a bit before taking to the air. They need time to regain their magic energy - time preferably spent in a safe place. Except there are no safe places outside the tower, anymore, Queen Devilla. Especially not out near the human territories.”

“...I see…” The flames of my ire were doused almost instantly. Mifa’s words made an uncomfortable amount of sense, especially in light of what had just happened with Abigail. The dedicated flyers could probably go farther, but they would still be limited in how far. They probably wouldn’t have energy to spare for illusions, either, meaning that they’d be spotted if they flew above a human settlement. That would make it even harder for them to find a place to land. There was no way they could properly survey the lands, like that.

“...Very well, then,” I conceded, with a sigh. “I will settle for an out of date map - so long as it lists the continent, and our current location, I should be able to make… Is something the matter?” For some reason, Mifa was staring at me.

“I expected you to kick and scream about wanting my girls to do their jobs,” Mifa admitted. “Honestly it’s a little unnerving to have you act so reasonably. Or, well, reasonable for you anyway.”

You are reading story Demon Queened at novel35.com

Abigail, who had not said a word since reentering the tower, gave a firm nod at this.

“...Well. I’m sorry for unnerving you with my lack of tantrums. If you’ll get me the map, I will be on my way and the two of you can speak at length about how miserable my attempts at being reasonable have made you.” Perhaps that was a little harsh, but I was honestly still upset about what had happened with Abigail.

“Why do you want a map?” Mifa asked me, clearly not in any rush to fetch me one. “Are you looking for something in particular?”

“I intend to go see the ocean,” I told her. “So long as it is within Five… no, even six hundred miles should be fine. So long as it is within that range, I should be able to make it back before nightfall.” I wasn’t afraid of running out of magic, even on a longer journey. I couldn’t use magic to increase my aerodynamics and cast an illusion, though, and since I wouldn’t be able to route a path around any settlements I’d probably need to switch between the two fairly often. That was definitely going to limit my speed.

Mifa continued to stare at me, even after I gave my answer. Then she burst into laughter, folding a wing against her stomach and doubling her small body over. It got to the point where I was more concerned she might fall than I was turned on by the jiggling of her breasts, and I considered offering her a hand. Before I could do so, however, she suddenly straightened up again and focused her golden eyes on mine.

“The ocean, huh? It’s true that you can probably fly faster and longer than my best soldiers - and you’re in luck, too: the closest coast is a mere three hundred miles away. You won’t even need a map, if you keep heading north. But I’ll give you one, anyway. So long as you can answer one question to my satisfaction, that is.”

“Requisitioning a map is well within my royal authority,” I pointed out, a little irritated. “But if it’ll get you to cooperate, fine. I’ll listen.”

“Good girl.” The harpy smiled, showing off serrated teeth. “Now tell me - why the sudden interest in sightseeing?”

“I intend to gather salt. I’ve heard it’s quite delicious.” I was aware of Abigail stiffening next to me, but she had the good grace to keep her face well schooled. I was sure that Mifa noticed, all the same. But she didn’t comment on it.

“Salt, huh?” Mifa said instead. “I’ve heard good things about salt. Though I guess asking you to share wouldn’t do much good.”

“Since you are going to the trouble of providing a map, I suppose I could present you with some salt as a reward,” I offered, hoping to move this to a quick conclusion. I actually intended to gather salt for the whole tower; it would be possible with what I’d taken from the vault. If anyone questioned what a selfish girl like me was doing getting salt for everyone, I would simply tell them that I hadn’t known how much I would need and that I’d gotten too much by mistake. If they really pressed, I’d spin some nonsense about how the chefs told me it would spoil, and I’d had no choice but to share. They’d think me a fool, but that was nothing new.

Mifa seemed to think about it for a moment, and then nodded. “Alright. I’ll get you a map of the continent; and you get me salt. It’s a deal. Want to seal it with sex?”

It was my turn to stare. “You… want to have sex. With me? I seem to recall once overhearing you say… What was it again? That anyone who had sex with me would best follow it up by checking for feather rot. I believe.” I couldn’t hide the irritation in my voice. While it was undeniably true that I’d deserved such comments, and worse, it still hadn’t been pleasant to hear.

“That was then, this is now,” Mifa told me, with a grin. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been staring at my tits.”

“And what do you get out of it?” I asked, crossing my arms in front of my chest. “I get the map. You get salt. That part of our transaction I understand - what do you get from throwing sex into the mix?”

“Do demons need to get anything but sex out of something to be happy with it?” Mifa argued back.

“That…” That was a fair point, actually. We were all pretty casual with sex, when it came down to it. “...It’s not as if I’m opposed, but it seems like it would be rather rude of me to have sex with you before I’ve even brought my companion home.”

“I wouldn’t mind it, actually,” Abigail said, speaking up for the first time since our arrival. “Actually, it would really help if I could absorb some sexual energy, right now.”

I wanted to glare at Abigail, for throwing me under the bus, but the sheer weariness in her voice stopped me. She was definitely out of magic energy.

“Very well,” I conceded, at last. “But I will not allow you to bind me in the air,” I told her. “I know full well what your tastes entail.”

“Really, now? You haven’t been spying on me, have you, Queen Devilla?” Mifa leaned forward on her perch, causing me to take a step backward.

“O-Of course not. It’s simply that you are completely indiscreet.” I of course knew her tastes from the game, but I was fairly confident in my bluff, all the same. Mifa said whatever she wanted, whenever she didn’t have a reason not to, for one thing. And it wasn’t as if her territory, without walls or floors, allowed for much discretion in bed.

“Well wherever you get your information, it seems you’re missing a little bit of it,” Mifa informed me. “I only use suspension play for those who can’t fly. I prefer to have sex in midflight. Unless you don’t think you can keep up with it?”

“Hmph. Of course I can keep up with it.” I was more confident than ever of my ability to stay in the air. My flying skill might lose out to Mifa’s in terms of grace and technique, but my stamina would see me through to the end.

“Very well,” Mifa said. “Come join me in the air.” Flapping her wings twice, she rose up about halfway toward the ceiling. I gave Abigail a final glance, a little worried about leaving her, but she gave me an encouraging smile in response.

“I just hope you can feel the lust from down there,” I said, flapping my own wings to fly toward Mifa. 

I stopped a few feet from the harpy, my wings falling into an even pace with hers as we both hovered in front of each other. “Who makes the first move?” I asked.

“That right normally goes to the top. Though if you’re asking, maybe you aren’t as suited for the role as I expected you to be.”

I didn’t respond verbally; doing so would have only played into Mifa’s talons. Instead, I reached out to grope one of Mifa’s breasts, letting my fingers curve around the swell of her dark chest while my thumb brushed ever so lightly against the very tip of her pink peak.

“Hrnnn…” A soft noise slipped from Mifa’s lips. She didn’t miss a beat, though, lifting one of her legs until it ran perpendicular to her body, and using her talons to ever so gingerly tug at my crop top’s boob window. One swift tug downward, and my tits popped out through the open space, nipples already stiff.

“It seems the cold is getting to me,” I remarked, glancing down at my tits. I was trying to hide how horny I was, but the look in Mifa’s eyes told me she wasn’t convinced.

“The cold,” she said, softly. “Yes. I’ve heard great and powerful demon queens all share a weakness for it.” With those words, Mifa lowered her lips toward my breast, letting her hot breath flow against my hard nipples. Despite the warmth, they only stiffened further.

“You are a vicious tease,” I accused, giving her a harsh pinch to the nipple. She didn’t let out so much as a squeak, in response, but I wasn’t the sort to be discouraged so easily. Grabbing hold of Mifa’s waist, I casually tossed her a few feet in the air. She actually squawked in surprise, this time, but my throw didn’t have enough force in it for her to reach the ceiling and it was easy enough for her to stop the ascent with a few flaps of her wings. From there she moved into a horizontal position, glaring down at me. Except I wasn’t where she expected me to be.

“Surprise!” I called out, from behind Mifa. She was horizontal, with her stomach toward the floor. I was vertical, my head positioned right behind her talons. Before she could so much as twist her head about, I grabbed hold of both her bird legs and pulled her thighs apart. 

“You’re fast,” Mifa admitted, giving a test tug with one of her legs. She couldn’t pull it out of my grip, though. With my strength, she could flap her wings with all her might, or stop moving them all together and drop like a stone, and it wouldn’t make a difference. I would be able to hold her in place with ease. “Your technique’s a little sloppy, but it’s not bad. I’ll admit that you caught me off guard  - but what are you going to do to me now?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” I laughed, kissing her inner thigh and nipping it lightly with my teeth. I’d only had sex once, in this lifetime, but I thought I’d done at least a passable job of it. I was looking forward to a repeat performance. “I’m going to make you cum your brains out.”

“Not a bad idea,” Mifa said, smiling at me. “I think I’ll steal it for myself.” She folded her wings. Her weight, as expected, wasn’t nearly enough to make me drop her - but while my grip on her ankles remained secure, her sweet pussy was no longer in front of my lips. In fact, her head was now poised right in front of my thighs.

I considered letting Mifa drop after all. She’d catch herself long before she reached the thirty first floor. I was sure she had the magic power to spare. I was, but… the image of Abigail falling toward the ground flashed through my mind, and I hesitated. Mifa took advantage of that hesitation, using the tip of her wing to push up my red micro skirt, and then nipping at my black panties with her teeth. A few solid tugs, and I was forced to spread my legs just to keep the panties from falling off my ankles.

“What did you say you were going to do to me?” Mifa called up to me. “Make me cum my brains out? Let’s see if you have any brains to lose, Queen Devilla.” Her lips were coming closer and closer to me. I was about to be touched, sexually, for the first time in this lifetime. The first time ever as a woman. It should have been exciting… but I didn’t want to lose.

Flapping my wings, I shifted my body away from Mifa’s lips, moments before they could touch my wet slit. Not waiting for her to protest, I moved my body into a horizontal position, and then started to lift up against Mifa’s legs again. This time she wouldn’t be able to simply drop out of my grip. I was going to get the first lick.

Suddenly something struck me in the side. The impact caused me to spin about, and allowed Mifa to twist out of my grip. I righted myself, flying upright again, and glaring about in an attempt to see for what had hit me. It didn’t take me long to find the culprit: a sparrow harpy, even smaller than Mifa, had slammed into my side.

“I thought this was just between us,” I protested, glaring at Mifa.

“I never said that. If you want to bring your little succubus maid into the fight, you’re free to do so. Though I doubt she’ll hold a candle to a hundred harpies.”

I glowered at Mifa, not saying a word. There was no way I was bringing Abigail into the air after that earlier debacle. But at the same time, even I might be in trouble if a hundred harpies were against me. It was possible that I could take them all in a fight, and win - though I couldn’t guarantee it - but I definitely couldn’t manage that and have mindblowing sex with their leader at the same time.

“That’s the Devilla I’m used to. Pouting because she can’t have her way. It’s almost a relief to see.”

“...I don’t know what you’re on about. I’m the same spoiled girl I’ve always been.”

“If you say so, Queen Devilla. But I can tell something’s changed. Is it the maid, perhaps? Does she make you want to be a better person?”

“Perhaps.” This was getting dangerous. I no longer cared who got the first lick in. I just wanted to have sex and get out of there, before I had yet another potential breach in my secrets.

“No,” Mifa mused. “If it was love, you’d deny it. You, in love with a commoner? There’s no way you’d give me a, ‘perhaps,’ that easily. That means it’s something else…”

“Enough of this!” I moved to grab at her, again, but she ducked beneath my grip. 

“I’ve touched a nerve, it seems. I wonder why? Change is a good thing, you know. Especially when it comes to spoiled brats like you.”

“I have not changed,” I insisted. “I am the same as I have always been!” I again attempted to grab her, but this time she flew up above me. I turned to glare up at her, but the moment I started to ascend, she folded her wings and dropped down toward the floor. 

“Stop running away!” I snapped, turning about in midair, head toward the ground, and cutting off the magic to my wings so I would fall after her.

Except I didn’t fall. Two of the larger harpies had grabbed a hold of me, each grabbing a hold of my thighs, and were flapping languidly to keep me aloft. 

It would have been childsplay to pull away, of course. But doing so in a way that wouldn’t slam them into each other was another matter. The selfish princess I used to be would have done it without a moment’s hesitation, but the queen I had become was much less willing. From the look Mifa was giving me, she knew it, too.

“It seems you aren’t as selfish as you claim, Queen Devilla,” Mifa remarked, casually flying up to me. My panties still hadn’t been pulled up, yet, and my skirts had fallen up toward my waist thanks to the new angle. Not only had I exposed my true nature to her, but my pussy, too.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied. I couldn’t admit that I had changed. That I was a better person, now. Even though I thought Mifa might believe me, as things were, it simply wouldn’t do my people any long term good.

“I’m sure you don’t,” Mifa agreed, tone dry. One of her legs stretched forward, the talon ever so delicately pinching at my nipple, eliciting a little whimper of pain. It hurt; but to my surprise, that pain felt rather good. I had never been into such things as Jacob, so I could only imagine it was my Devilla side. “Well. To the victor goes the spoils… or the spoiled, as the case may be.”

Soft lips pressed against my inner folds. A tongue was pressed into my core, pushing its way against the outer edge of my opening for a moment before unceremoniously starting to work its way inside. It didn’t feel like a human tongue; it was velvety and soft, a little too narrow at the end, and very long. It seemed like it was built for digging into holes. 

The tongue worked its way deep inside me, eliciting soft moans, then drew slowly out again. It flicked against my clit, the tip of it teasing against the clitoral hood, before curling about the button with shocking dexterity. Then it was back into my vagina, again, working its way deep. I could feel it inside me, feel it slipping along my inner walls. I was fairly certain a human woman didn’t have too many nerves inside, yet I could somehow feel every movement within me. It was going deeper with each second, and I knew instinctively that it would soon reach a rather special spot.

But then Mifa’s tongue pulled back. Slowly, inexorably, it moved further and further away from that special spot. I let out a whimper of need, mixed with irritation, but there was nothing for it. There was nothing I could do. I couldn’t force her to touch me, after all.

“You could beg for it,” one of the harpies clutching me pointed out, as if reading my mind.

I glared up at her naked form, trying not to focus on the way her breasts were just hanging in the air above me. I wasn’t going to beg. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. I had some dignity, after all; and besides, there were too many people watching.

“Be nice to her, girls,” Mifa said, once she had her tongue back. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think she’s actually making progress as a demonic being.”

The tongue darted out again, before I could respond. Its movement within me brought forth a moan, cutting off any remarks I might have made about her comment. Again, her tongue worked deep within me, closer and closer to the special spot. I was hoping she would touch it, this time, but even if she didn’t I knew that I would not last long. There was a warmth building up inside my core, a pressure that was pushing me closer and closer to the precipice. It was a very different sensation, compared to when I had been a man, and it wasn’t something I had real experience with as a woman, yet I knew without a doubt that it was coming.

Too soon, the tongue darted back. I gnashed my teeth, feeling the precipice I was so close to receding back into the distance. I didn’t say a word, though, afraid that Mifa would only use the information to tease me more. I simply held my tongue, and hoped hers would do what needed to be done.

Mifa, for her part, did not speak this time. She simply teased her tongue against my clit, again, sending sparks through my entire being and sending me rushing back toward the precipice she had so cruelly denied me a mere moment before. She stopped short, of course, but since her tongue dived right into my body there was no more distancing myself from the edge. I was going to cum, one way or another, and soon, too.

At that moment I felt the tongue push deep within me, deeper than it ever had before. I felt it brush against something within me, a special spot that had never felt contact before. It was like having my clit touched, except even more intense. On top of that it was happening inside me, deep within my core. All that, combined with the sheer novelty of the touch, was almost more than I could take, right then and there. I was so close - I knew that I would tip off the precipice with just the slightest nudge. Just continued prolonged contact would do it. Hell, even just the decision to cum might be enough. 

I hesitated, though. In the stories Jacob used to read, the first time a former guy came as a girl was always important, even life changing. I already identified as a girl, so I wasn’t  sure that it would matter much, but the thought that something inside me might irrevocably change sent a thrill of fear and excitement from me, keeping me tethered to the edge.

Then I felt the claws about my thighs tighten, sharp pain shooting through my legs at the same time as the tongue’s tip teased my g-spot. The mix of pleasure and pain made the heat swell within me, shoving me off the precipice, and sending me tumbling headfirst into pleasure. I screamed, instinctively squeezing my thighs together. That slammed the harpies against each other, not hard enough to make them fall but hard enough to make them drop me. I was only distantly aware of the fall, though, screaming for an entirely different reason as pleasure tore through my being.

When I came too, the harpies had grabbed hold of me again. Despite the fact that they must have grabbed me with all their might, there was no blood, and very little pain. I was fairly certain that I was hard to injure, actually; the pain I’d felt earlier had probably been due to the situation increasing my sensitivity, rather than actual damage being inflicted on my body. Still, it had been a delightful experience.

“I can handle it myself, from here,” I informed the harpies, gently tugging myself free and spreading my wings wide. After taking a moment to pull up my panties, I flapped my wings a few times and flew up to the platform. A moment later Mifa flew down to land upon her perch. 

Abigail was sitting on the floor, her skirt and underwear both pushed down around her ankles, her fingers wet and a satisfied smile on her lips. I was fairly sure she’d recovered her magic power during all that.

“Well that was certainly enlightening,” Mifa remarked. “But I suppose for now you’ll want your map…” A harpy flew up to Mifa, holding out a rolled up piece of parchment. Mifa took it, in one claw, before holding it out to me, in turn. “Go on. And don’t forget your promise - I’ll be wanting salt.”

“You’ll get it,” I promised, taking the map and putting it in my pouch. “But for now, I fear I must get this one back up the tower and perhaps into a bed…”

“My. Someone’s certainly concerned about the wellbeing of her friends,” Mifa said, a small smile on her lips.

I chose not to comment, simply leaning down to pick up Abigail in the now familiar princess carry. From there, I flew toward the window.

“Do come back, sometime!” Mifa called after me.

I didn’t respond, simply heading out the window, and toward the top of the tower. Flying back into the window we had come from, I carried Abigail to the couch and carefully laid her down upon it. She was quite tired out, eyes closed and a peaceful expression on her lips. I was glad to see it. Even if I might never get to again.

I turned to head back toward the window, trusting that Abigail could see herself out. Before I made it more than a foot, however, a hand reached out to grab my shirt.

“Your boobs are still hanging out,” Abigail murmured, sleepily.

“...So they are.” I carefully turned my boob door back into a window, a small smile on my lips. “Thank you. For taking care of me so far.”

“...It doesn’t have to be over,” Abigail whispered, softly. “You could tell me the truth.”

I hesitated. I wanted to tell her. Having a confidante sounded quite nice. But even if she didn’t tell anyone that I’d messed up the rite, even if she accepted that I had knowledge of a past life, which in turn had given me knowledge of this world via a porn game - could she accept that I was a former human? A former man? I didn’t know that I could stand to see the look on her face when she found out. If I was going to lose her companionship, regardless, wasn’t it better to choose the route where I couldn’t be betrayed? Where she hated me the least amount possible, given the circumstances?

Yet if there was even a chance that she would stay by my side…

“We’ll talk when I get back,” I said. I was only delaying the inevitable. Whatever decision I made, it would all end the same. Even if she accepted me, the fact remained that I would eventually be fleeing to live in hiding among humankind. There was therefore no future in which we remained like this for good. 

I knew that.

But still. For just a little while longer. I wanted to keep her by my side. 

“You promise?” Abigail demanded, sitting up.

“I promise,” I said, taking her hand in mind and giving it the lightest possible squeeze. Then I let her go, and moved toward the window.

It was high time I got my salt.

 

 

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