Harpin’ on Harpies – 4 [❤️]

Sunday advances angrily, but you plead him mentally not to. His eyes widen in surprise, but he steps forwards anyways.

“You will not lay a single talon on my mother.” He growls.

Glasgow raises his brows in surprise.

“Your mother? If Claw first entered here six hours ago...impossible. Demon, how old are you?”

“Time is irrelevant to us demons.” Sunday huffs.

As if he’s not gleaning information that you’ve been telepathically feeding him. Before Glasgow goes Han Solo and shoots first, you answer.

“As you suspect, he is six hours old. Demons mature differently.”

Glasgow scowls. “And different family dynamics, I take it? Never mind. Aevum’s final goal consists of using a massive amount of life force...but what if we gave him the bonus of demons. We have thirty available racks in the brig...and less than a month until he comes back." He rubs his chin with the key. "I could work with this.”

If he sees everything as a potential profit…

“Why don’t you free me? Demons capable of fulfilling any desire in a brothel would bring out a decent profit.” Glasgow shakes his head and points towards the rack closest to your right.

Sunday gets the message, grumbling. He walks over and secures the manacles around both wrists.

“I didn’t hear them click.”

Sunday sighs and makes sure they’re firmly secured. At least he’s a lot less secure than you are. Oddly enough, seeing him brings you pride, love, compassion. And horniness, of course, but what’s new? He gives you a forlorn look and glares back at Glasgow. The harpy nods and puts down the crossbow.

“As for your question, Demonic Mother, I fear Aevum far more than I will ever fear you. Come along, sir.” He put the crossbow on Claw’s back and began dragging the comatose captain out. “After all, one must never cross an avariel.”

Wasn’t Aevum an elf?

The door closes and darkness consumes the room once more. The harpies shudder as they realize they can now see two pairs of green eyes in the darkness.

"Why wouldn't you let me fight him, mother?"

You sigh. You could communicate mentally, but the bond is not as strong as it was when he was just born. Plus, now’s a good a time as any to get him speaking like a normal person. You’ve met too many people whose brains have been boiled by the internet to function in society, and as a new parent, you need to give the best for your child.

"You can call me something else if you'd like, Sunday. Lady or Lord if you feel it necessary. But my name is Quinn. And the reason I couldn't let you fight him is because you are an incubus. You may be strong, but you wouldn't survive a crossbow through the gut at that range, like I would."

"I am prepared to die for you, Lady Quinn." Being called 'Lady' fills you with pride and you purr.

"I am not. You are my servant, my child, the first I have birthed. I love you."

Sunday smiles bashfully. What you said was true. You did a bit of reading when you took breaks after you left Chanam. Succubi and Incubi are generally weaker than Lust Demons, and some imps are actually more durable than they are. Sort of explains why War Demons use legions of Imps instead. They very rarely have shape-shifting abilities like you do and are mostly constrained to that form. Those that do can only change their physiques rather than their genitals.

What they can do is use magic.

Granted, it takes time for them to learn it. But they also have basic pheromone control and light hypnosis. And they can create imps and sometimes others of their own kind. So, they're basically Lust Demons Lite. Of course, with Sunday comes an opportunity. If he can learn magic before the month is over, he can break out of those chains and free you. After all, you're occupying the only holy chains on the entire vessel.

Which means you'd best hope Grim keeps her mouth shut.

You stare at Sunday and attempt to use telepathy. He frowns and a garbled mess of sensations returns. You groan. The initial telepathy was instinctual, like a child grasping for anything. On the list is teaching telepathy again, teaching magic, making sure Grim doesn't fuck this up, creating more demons, and doing all of this before Aevum returns in a month. You can't have too much sex with Sunday, or you'll be immune to each others' DESIRE.

But you weren't lying about increasing the bond between you two. The DESIRE you gave off caused him to grow, and imprint on you. And the residual DESIRE from some of the women helped. WikiHell said that creators that did not give DESIRE to their spawn ended up with subordinates with feelings of impotence, apathy, and even rebellion towards them. Which, if you're going to create your own personal demonic army to take down the avariel, will not fly.

You continue to try to telepathically communicate with Sunday. What comes back is a slightly less garbled mess.

You grin.

Progress.

~~~~~~~~~Day 12~~~~~~~~~

Your grin grows as an angry Claw enters the corridor.

Claw woke up from his stupor after some distance from you, and decided to take revenge the only way he knew how. By coming in and beating the crap out of you. Of course, that didn't work, and post-hypnotic suggestion ended up being a real bitch. Eleven children later, and he was still too proud to do anything but plan for revenge. And every day, after he’d have your way with you by pumping your belly with another incubus or succubus, Glasgow would come.

He'd look at your bloated stomach, nod silently as one would appreciate healthy livestock, and drag Claw out. The first day of his revenge was simple. The door burst open, he growled at the cowering women, and reached a claw out to strike them. Your pheromones stopped him.

He gave you a lovely succubus that day.

Whereas Sunday looks a lot like you, Monday has neon yellow skin, long red hair, and your green eyes. She has a pair of ram horns curling around the sides of her head.

She is a natural cunning linguist.

She was chained by Glasgow facing Sunday. They both liked that, considering the chains were loose enough for them to do their thing. To each other, but not you. You were a bit jealous, but at least they were kind enough to give you a show.

Tuesday was next, just when you thought your children would always be human. Your first harpy incubus was temperamental, a heavy contrast to Monday's serenity, and his feathers were white, speckled yellow, clashing with his pink skin. He had five little nub horns, and he was quite messy. He gave you a great bukkake.

Wednesday is clever and quick-thinking. With her long, wavy, black hair and dark feathers, pale skin, and eternally-passive expression, the only time you’ve ever seen her emote was when you rubbed your pussy so hard against her she started frothing at the mouth with a wide smile. She formed a close bond with Tuesday and Thursday.

Thursday himself was quite a surprise. Initially the smallest of his siblings, your orange skinned child with wild white hair and purple eyes grew into a large, buff, loud, hairy Viking. He almost tore you free from the chains, but he was forced to let go so they wouldn’t burn through his hands.

Friday is a human succubus with light blue skin, blond hair and blue eyes. She came when you shoved your arm up her asshole in front of the harpies, laughing wildly at their expressions…but she flushed purple when you held her hand and kissed her on the cheek. She bonded with Saturday when he came around, a harpy incubus with deep purple skin, green feathers and eyes, and short-cropped black hair. He was a clever one, pretending to be underdeveloped…until he leaped on your face and fucked your slut mouth like a machine. You suspect he got that from communicating with Cloth.

Since you'd run out of days, you started with months.

January is a loyal succubus harpy. She looks demure and quiet with her gray skin, dark blue feathers and messy bob hair, but her red eyes were always on the alert. She picked up telepathy the fastest among her siblings, mostly to tattle on what she overheard or lip-read from the mortal harpies.

February is a sincere incubus harpy. Too sincere. He has pale skin, blue feathers, purple eyes and hair that covers his face. Rather than cumming inside you, you sprayed his gunk over your tits and started drawing on you. You promised to peg him for that.

March ended up being really shy when you had sex; she was afraid her talons would hurt you. Nevertheless, she scowled every time Claw or Glascow came in. She would have made her distaste known if you didn’t constantly stop her. She really gives off ice queen vibes, with her alabaster white skin, ice blue feathers, hair, and eyes.

April is very effeminate, even growing a modest cup size despite his impressive dick size. He looked remarkably human, with lightly tanned skin, waist length blond hair in ponytail, and soft brown eyes. Very human, if you ignored the single horn coming from his forehead. He was very self-conscious about it until you complimented him, which made him cry. He’s incredibly devoted to you, more so than the others. It would be creepy if you didn’t absolutely adore the attention. And from the show he gave everyone, he loved the spotlight just as much.

May was definitely the universe righting itself, a boisterous and butch pale-skinned succubus with freckles that quickly took care of April, despite being younger. Her curly, waist-length red hair bounced as much as her respectable chest when she rode your dick for the first time.

They came in all colors of the rainbow, with personalities to match.

And most beautifully of all?

They all had souls. Pieces of your soul shed off every time you conceived one and nestled into their cores. Technically, it weakened you. But your soul recovered in hours, possibly because you were blessed. Those pieces of soulstuff that you lost grew into fully functional souls. Yes, you could influence them, and even control their bodies. But only with their permission, with themselves as spectators.

You love them all.

Each time you took Claw's anger and turned it into lust for yourself, the women feared you less. At first they began to glance in your direction. Then they began to talk, if a bit cautiously. When you started to offer comforting words, they shut up. But that began to change. A few even started talking to you and your demons.

Yet Grim refused to acknowledge your presence. In fact, she barely spoke to the other women at all. You never mentioned that you had offered her help, although she acts as if you shouted it out to the world.

<Lord Quinn, can I take a turn today?> March asks.

When it comes to you, March is shy and smitten. But she sees her father as a challenge. Something to break. Suffice to say, your spawn had negligible opinions of their 'donor'. Claw was too angry at you too even look at the women. He just marched straight towards you. At least this time he's smart enough to close his eyes to avoid your hypnotic gaze. And he's holding his breath?

Cheeky.

"You think you're smart, well this time I've come with help, let's see you try to control all of us as we fuck everything in the brig!" He says all that with one breath, and about twenty others come in through the door.

Mostly harpies, but a few equints and minotaurs as well. You almost laugh.

<It seems like we're all getting something today. Make sure none of the women are used.>

Your demons visibly excite themselves, pussies leaking and cocks engorging.

"Oh really, Claw?" You purr.

The pirates that had started towards the harpies turned around and headed towards your spawn, already under their spell.

"Come get some."

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