A literotic sexstories: Ebima Remembers. by DarlingCrescendo ,
Soooo, it’s been a while! Yeah, I’m sorry… There’s just been a TON of stuff going on in my life, moving across state lines, getting evicted and moving again, burying a dog, moving again. The list goes ooooon and oooon. Anyways! I wrote another chapter in my ‘Ebima saga’ XD This one isn’t as sexy as the others have been, and it’s a little short, I didn’t want to give to much more of the story until I gave a bit of a back story. How does Ebima know Chris? Who is the demon that attacked him? Welp, all of that will be answered in the story below. If you’re looking for fap material, look for the next one, this one is just a bunch of words… Sorry -runs away-
Christopher was blessedly unconscious during the vile act, and Ebima prayed to whatever deity may listen that he remain that way. For one glorious moment, Ebima Auvengarde was in love. He had the affections of a human boy, and was absolutely content.
Ebima lowered his head, feeling himself begin to fail at schooling an indifferent mask. It was becoming more and more difficult listening to the sound of wet skin slapping, his father’s grunts and growls, and the soft squeak of his mattress beneath them. He closed his eyes, and buried himself in his earliest memories of the human he had foolishly allowed himself to fall for.
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Ebima yawned and stretched in the bright morning sun. All the time spent in the dark underworld made him happy to feel it’s rays on his cooled skin. He had decided that morning to take a small sojourn among the humans. He had found himself drawn to a human child in particular for reasons he himself couldn’t fathom.
For weeks, Ebima had followed the boy as he scurried on through his life, school, some sort of game in which the boy would kick a black and white ball past other children, attempting to place it into a wide net with no defense save a female child, waving hands and crouched to the ground. Ebima found himself in a routine of waking in the morning, dressing himself, traveling to the humans’ world, and searching for the boy. He found himself feeling out of sorts if he didn’t have a general idea of the boy’s whereabouts.
His siblings shared his curiosity of humans, but that was were the similarities ended. Ebima’s brother and sisters sole purpose of traveling to Earth, was to find some poor, dimwitted soul to drag home and use as sex slaves, maids, or worse.
‘Why don’t you just take him and fuck him?’ His sister Elma had inquired one day. She had taken it upon herself to travel with him, to see the human he decided he fancied. ‘If you want him so badly, just pull a bit of magic, he will beg you to take him then and there.’ Ebima had scoffed at his sister’s crude manner of thinking. He spoke while watching the boy attempt to make a board with wheels on the bottom spin under his feet.
‘This one is different. I could not tell you why, Elma. I feel at peace when I watch him toil away.’ Elma smiled and bumped her shoulder into his. ‘You love him, little brother. You, are in love with a human! Oh this is just too funny! Wait until I tell Father-‘
Ebima shoved his sister and watched with savage satisfaction as she landed face first into mud circling the tree they were perched in. He jumped and landed softly behind her, as she sat up and hissed at him.
‘Say nothing to Father, Elma. I mean that.’ He held a hand for silence as she sputtered her response. ‘You remember what he did to Enrie’s human lover?’ A shadow fell over her face as she recalled the poor human that fell for their older brother.
She wordlessly held a hand up, silently demanding he help her to her feet. Ebima lifted his sister, then held her fast against him. ‘Swear it! Swear you will say nothing to Father. When Enrie lost Timothy I thought he would honestly die… Enrie is a stronger demon than I, I just know I would never be able to survive-‘
‘Alright, alright! I spoke without thinking, forgive me, brother.’ Elma slid the mud from her face, ‘If Father were ever to discover you and your fascination, it will not be because of me. I swear it.’ She smiled as she said the last, revealing her needle sharp teeth beneath her pouty lips. Ebima smiled and hugged her. ‘Thank you, my sister.’
Several weeks later found Ebima watching on a tree next to a bedroom window as a woman threw open the door to the room in a fit of anger and began to yell at the child in bed. “Christopher James McIntyre, if you aren’t out of that bed in the next ten seconds, I’ll-”
“Cheesus rice, Mom, I’m UP!” The boy in question threw his sheets from his bedraggled head, and sat up. Ebima leaned forward, to get a closer look at the object of his fascination.
Ebima looked on as Christopher went on about his life, content to being a silent spectator. That position was altered, however during a bad storm. Ebima stood in the rain next to Christopher’s Honda, silently hoping the boy would stay in his shelter and wait out the storm.
He knew in the back of his mind, the boy was incredibly stubborn, and true to his nature, Ebima watched Chris run from the awning of his school to his car, covering his curls with a book bag. Chris cursed as he climbed into his car and glanced at his phone. Ebima sidled into the passenger seat, tempting fate. His glamor would hold unless the boy were to touch him. Upon skin to skin contact, Ebima would be visible, and any hope of remaining unseen would be lost.
Ebima sat facing Christopher in the car, taciturnly willing him to return to his home safely. The wordless encouragement was shattered, as Chris cursed loudly and the car began to skid. Ebima looked through the windshield to see a tree rapidly approaching them.
‘Caution be damned.’ He thought, he wrapped his arms around the boy and held him as the car skidded into and around the massive tree. Ebima felt and heard the bones in the boy’s leg shatter. He cursed himself inwardly for not doing more to save him. Ebima sat back and felt his heart stop as the boy’s head lolled against his shoulder. He felt his pulse pick up when he heard a loud groan escape Christopher’s mouth.
He climbed out of the window on his side and sprinted to the driver side and tore the car open to pull the boy’s damaged body from the wreckage.
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Ebima was ripped from the memory by the sound of his lord father finishing inside of Christopher, who was still unconscious. Lord Alexander thrust his massive hips against the boy’s backside a final time, and threw his head back, howling as he filled Christopher with his seed.
“Ah, how marvelous! They really don’t make too many humans like this one.” He crowed, as he pulled his flaccid member out of Christopher, and let the boy fall bonelessly to the bed beneath him. Alexander crawled from his son’s bed, and began to dress himself, not bothering to clean his body first.
“My son has fine taste, doesn’t he?” He drawled at his steward, who nodded wordlessly. He tugged his tunic over his head and turned to face his youngest son, an evil grin plastered on his face.
“This, is what humans are good for, Ebima. I attempted to tell your oldest brother that, but, well… You know.” His impish smirk grew wider on his face, most likely recalling the appalling things he’d done to the human boy all those years ago.
Ebima mentally took a deep breath and let his neutral mask pool into his face.
“Yes, Father. I understand your meaning.”
“Do you, my son? Because judging by your eyes when I took the human the first time, you will forgive my doubt.” He waved an arm at Christopher. “He is nothing. Cattle. Amusement. Whatever the fuck we wish! We don’t marry the cattle, son! We don’t profess love to our amusement.” As Lord Alexander spoke, his anger seeped farther and farther into his tangent. “Why you and your idiot brother insist on making me teach you these lessons will never make sense to me! Do you think I enjoy putting you through this much pain, my son?”
‘Honestly, I do, you old fucking barbarian’, Ebima thought savagely to himself. Aloud he said, “No, Father. You are a merciful king and dutiful father, I know causing Enrie and I, let alone any of your children any amount of pain slays you inwardly.”
Alexander paused while pulling on his boots. He slowly stood and watched Ebima’s face closely. In a domain where one wrong look could land one a stay in Hallway for a month, Ebima had learned at a very young age how to build and maintain an expression that let no emotion show.
Most nobles were unable to penetrate the mask, but Lord Alexander XVII was no ordinary noble. Studying one’s face, posture, and even minute hand movements was an unnatural talent of his.
Ebima kept himself calm, letting no emotion whatsoever flow into his uneasy bastion of tranquility. He let his father study him, searching for a react to use against him.
But alas, he found nothing. Lord Alexander scoffed and resumed pulling on his clothes. “You will have sentiments to this human no longer,” He declared as he stood, fully dressed.
“Should you bring him here again, it will be as a slave, or I swear to you on your Mother’s grave, he will be a corpse.” The finality and severity of his father’s words cut through Ebima like a knife through butter. He watched his father’s small satisfaction at finally pulling an emotion from behind his mask. “Am I being perfectly clear, my son?” He asked the question with a slight lilt in his voice, belying a very deep, serious threat and promise.
Ebima stood for the first time in the eight hours his father had come into his room and began doing ‘that’ to his Christopher. He bowed, letting his hair fall and cover his face to hide the fine rage in his eyes. “Yes, my Lord. I understand your words, and will abide by them.”
Alexander clapped his massive hands and kicked his steward in front of him. “Walk, you damned fool!” He turned, smiling at his son in triumph. “You will see why I do the things I do, my son. One day. Until then, ta-ta!” With that, he strode from his son’s room, whistling to himself, kicking his servant every few steps, slamming the door behind him.
As soon as the door closed, Ebima let himself go. He fell against the carpet, fury riding every inch, every muscles, every damned molecule of his body. He fell on all fours, hyperventilating, attempting to master himself. He wanted to kill his father, that much he knew. He hadn’t the foggiest idea as to how, but he knew one day he pull that evil, evil man limb from bloody limb. Ebima’s rage was interrupted by a soft gasp from his bed.
He looked up, shoving his hair out of his face to see Chris sitting bolt upright looking like he was hyperventilating himself. Ebima stood slowly and called his lover’s name softly.
Chris spun around at the whisper, and Ebima felt himself run cold as he watched the boy’s eyes fill with fear. Only to have the circulation return when comprehension emptied it.
“Ebima… What the fuck?…” He stopped speaking when he became aware of the condition of his body. He did hyperventilate then, hands scrambling over his body, attempting to climb off the bed, but yelping in pain when he clenched his ass to do so.
Ebima slowly approached him, hands raised. “Christopher…”
“WHAT the FUCK! What happened to- What did?- Was I r- Who was…?” Ebima stopped in front of the bed and watched him sadly, waiting for the frightened sputtering to stop. He placed his head in one hand pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Christopher, first off, how is your head?”
Chris stop his rambling questions and placed a hand on his head, he pulled it away to reveal dried blood and other things. “I bled… How long was I out for? Ebima, who the hell was that that hit me? A ‘friend’ of yours?”
Chris was in pain. Mentally and physically. He was sore all over, but more than anything he wanted Ebima to close the distance between them and hug him, but the demon made no move to do so, nor did he give off any intention. “That was… my father. He heard that you were here and…”
“And what? Decided to ‘pay a visit’?” Chris broke off as a sharp pang flew through his head. He doubled over in pain, waiting to feel Ebima’s large, warm hands touch him, almost ached for them, but they never came. “He looked up at the demon to see onyx eyes swimming with tears. “Ebima? What… What did your father do to me?”
At that question, Ebima broke. He closed his eyes, leaned his head back, and burst into tears. He spoke with a broken voice, silver tears racing down his face and neck. Chris sat up, placing his hands on his chest, only to have them pulled off and held at bay. “Ebima, what the fu-”
“He has known you!”
Chris knelt, thunderstruck on the bed. He watched Ebima continue to sob, while putting all of the pieces together. The bruises, the particular pain and wetness coming from his anus, he strung it all together and let it germinate in his mind. He pulled on his hands, and barely heard Ebima sob even harder as the demon relinquished his hold.
Chris stayed where he was, frozen, staring at nothing, processing the knowledge that he had been taken by a demon. How long he remained that way, Chris couldn’t guess. What he did know was one thing. One way to even begin to fix things.
He leaned forward, returning his hands to Ebima’s shoulders, which were bobbing with his sobs. “Ebima.” He said firmly, watching waterlogged eyes slowly meet his own.
“You’re telling me that your father raped me?” Ebima nodded wordlessly. “Did you… Did you consent to…?” Chris felt pained at the offense and hurt that painted Ebima’s face, but he had to ask. “N-no! I would never-”
“Okay, okay. I believe you. I really, honestly do.” He smiled, pulling a watery one from Ebima’s face as well. “So your father…He obviously doesn’t approve…” Ebima shook his head, eyes filling with undiluted hatred. “Your father… He sullied me… Wouldn’t you say?” Again, Ebima nodded, looking thoughtful this time.
Chris smiled, loving the fact that he had the upper hand. “Well then, there’s only one thing to do.” He leaned forward, letting himself fall from the bed, knowing Ebima would catch him, which he did. Christopher drew himself up to his full height, which wasn’t much compared to Ebima’s, and stated with a grin, “Then you’ll just have to wipe my body clean of him, won’t you?”
So this is what I’ve got for you guys. Ebima’s daddy is royalty in a society that only the strongest survive. You are only king if the you defeat (kill) the previous king in combat. Lord Alex is very baaaad man. Holds true to the theory that we little humans aren’t worth much more than a quick feed and fuck. I’m working on the next part now, hopefully I’ll have it up by the end of the week. Shoot me some feedback and be honest (I can take it) hope you’re enjoying the series!
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