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Plight Of The Succubi

Chapter 0

A Tortured Soul

It was cold. Any place under the ground normally was. But this place... hundreds, if not thousands, of years old... was colder still. The very stones permeated an evil... a vile, hated evil... it meant pain to be here... pain so intense, so crushing, that no individual can bear it alone...

At least, it was so for Daemons.

A man, or what could be presumed as a man, walked a corridor. His eyes, beneath the heavy hood of the robe which adorned him, stared ahead reverently at some object. A fountain, standing in the anteroom which was his apparent destination, the water flowing from the top to cascade through the air, sparkling purity, before dashing on the large basin that both acted as a base for the ornament and as the water's collector. The archaic marble thing almost shone with light, mainly due to the naked flame of the torches set into the walls. He stopped there, looking into the water as if it was God's own face staring back and not his own. The water was blessed... and cursed; it could not leave the fountain. Even if some was carried away in a container, it would have ceased to exist long before the owner of the cup could raise it to his lips, or carry it a single step.

Such was the price of being holy "May His will be done..." With the usual signs of open respect to his deity complete, the man gathered himself. Straightening his posture. Checking his vestment for anything less than perfection. It took no more than a moment for his practiced eye to do. He breathed deep, looking at the architecture. It was medieval; gothic. Incredibly so, it bore no resemblance to a church. Those were for purposes that were pure. For the good of all. Very unlike this place... a place of pain... pain for such unholy creatures as Daemons. But it was still a place of joy. Joy for the one that held the divine purpose of cleansing these monstrosities.

That one was him. And he loved God for giving him such a suitable duty. A duty that he was only too happy to accept... call his own... make his own. Same as he made the ones he cleansed... as his own. His. Only his. Forever... his.

His eyes returned to their rightful place, burning with religious fervour. It was time to see what God had given him for the day. With that emotion of benediction for The One God in his heart, he advanced on a door. The gap to it rapidly shrinking. His feet, clad in boots, making loud echoing noises against the rough floor...

Footsteps. Then a grating, like metal on metal. It faded into a dull echo as the hinges of the door protested against motion. Faint light filled the dark-as-night chamber. And then a voice... "Are you ready to be cleansed, foul creature?"

"It is you who is foul, human!" The speaker was something that none would expect. A Succubus... strong... proud... and bound by heavy chains; bound by her arms, legs and wings. Not to mention neck and torso; just below her breasts. She was naked, as most of her ilk were.

The man's eyes lit up with glee as he took in the beauty of the evil before him. His heated gaze stared first at her legs; anthromorphic to accommodate the usual cloven hooves of Daemons, shaped like an equine's. Her ankles, if they can be called that, were wreathed in black hair. Her torso received the same look; her stomach, flat, and chest, not so flat. His eyes lingered on her skin and it's patterning; pearly white with dark flames, frozen in their burning motion. Her wings; small, black leather on her upper back. Her arms; slender... seemingly frail "We shall see, Succubi... Your name, reveal it."

The order was met badly. She hissed, bearing her canine teeth, her forked tongue flicking between her thin, pale lips "I shall not allow the likes of you to desecrate my name!"

He sighed, acting mock-irate, reaching into his pocket "Then we shall begin the cleansing... should you survive, you shall be passed on to work to repent. I hope, and pray, that you shall. In the name of God-"

"He who spits upon the other great powers! The one that casts down all but those that he deems weak! The gluttonous ravager of souls! It is he, the scum of the universe, that should repent!"

"Cease your cursing, fiend!"

The chains jerked, rattling loudly as she recoiled from his fist, blood beginning to seep from her nose. She whimpered "He who denies what is natural..." Another strike, to her stomach. She attempted to double over but was painfully brought up short by the chains on her arms and torso, her breath leaving her, causing a harsh coughing fit "The-... The splitter of unity... The first bastard..." Something sharp touched her leg. She closed her orange eyes tight, feeling the burning sensation that came from being in contact with a holy object. It became worse as it bit in just more than an inch, severing the muscle of her upper leg but expertly avoiding the major vein "The forbidder!" She cried in pain, her body spasming. The agony from the blessed metal languishing in her blood... unbearable.

"It will be over soon, Daemon."

"No..." She, unfortunately, knew what was to come. The blade was removed as the full horror of what was about to take place dawned to her. It took all her will to keep from crying out of terror. Something new was applied to the just-created wound. She screamed. It hurt! "Stop!"

"I cannot."

"I will do anything if you just stop!"

"..."

She breathed hard. Thank the Devil for the corrupt nature of humans! He was considering... she shivered at the thought of what he may request... or demand. His hands had left her entirely for the moment, giving her a chance to recover some portion of her resolve and spirit. It was then that she recognised what he had slathered into her leg. It was a gelatinous substance, with a pungent odour. It was a combination of chemicals that she didn't know about though "... please..." She did what her instincts commanded and thrust her hips forwards as far as they could go, hoping that he would prefer to screw her... she didn't like the idea but it would be, near enough, the only way of coming out of this unscathed.

"... you must convince me, Daemon, that you are willing to repent..." He stared. The obvious signs of lust clear on him "... praise him."

"W-What?"

"I said: praise him."

"... God!?"

"Yes."

She couldn't do that... but, with what would happen otherwise, she quickly reconsidered "... I will..." It almost broke her. The thought of going against her own religion was disgusting... going against Satan, and all that she had ever learnt... just to save her mind and body. Hell, she didn't care; what use was a worshipper when they're dead or insane? She was loyal to the Daemon Lord to her last breath... she would just lie. She was sure that Satan would forgive her. Why wouldn't he? Especially if she made herself available for his every whim... that had always been the way. A short period of torture in the fires of Hell was tolerable... but only because it would be her Lord holding the barbed-wire whip, and not some fanatic of a nameless God. Her thoughts continued to tumble chaotically until something appeared in her vision. A book. The book; the Bible. Stupid name really. It was already open at a page, a short prayer directly in front of her eyes "Is this it?"

"Yes. Read it out loud."

The Succubus considered hissing at him, but that would accomplish nothing. She locked her snake-eyes on the text and started reading. Easy enough, she thought as she repeated what she read. It took no more than a minute to complete it. And, when she did... Her eyes widened, the cold feeling spreading from her black heart "No..."

"Welcome under the wing of the True God, Daemon."

She saw his superior smile and balked "NO!!!"

Her scream, inhuman, bestial, echoed out from the room. The sound finding it's way up to a chapel far above where a large congregation were already praying. The same prayer. More screams followed the first, each one more laden with despair than the last... as the true torture began and the faithful above worshipped a nameless, hollow God.

"Up, Daemon!"

The chain clanked morosely as the once proud Succubus stood.

"Now... sit."

She obeyed. Her head lowered to the ground.

"Excellent, Succubus. Crawl in a circle."

Her eyes dampened again, but she wouldn't allow herself to cry. She would be punished if she did. Her eyes grew wetter as she started, complying with the order but not accepting it. It was humiliating, in every way, the stone floor grazing her knees.

"Stop in front of me and kneel."

She saw the look on his face and trembled. No... not again... She stopped in front of him, as commanded, rising up onto her knees.

"Good..." He drawled, grabbing her blood-red hair in a tight fist.

Her eyes closed as she forced her mouth open, anticipating the demand before he could voice it. A finger touched her chin. Her eyes opened obediently.

"Heh, no need for that, slut. I'm finished with you. In the corner, to my right, is two sets of chains. Bring them to me."

"Y-Y-Yes, M-Master..." She, broken in more ways than she thought possible, felt her cheeks burn. She started making the necessary moves to stand but the fist holding her hair didn't move.

"Did I tell you to stand?"

She instantly pressed her hands and knees to the floor, submissive "I-I'm sorry, M-M-Master..."

"Hmm? What did you say? I can't hear you!"

"I'm sorry, Master!"

"Very good."

He let her hair go free and watched as she crawled across the cold room. Her face safely hidden behind her hair, she allowed her tears to escape. Her sobs were inaudible, but the occasional twitch of her body couldn't be avoided. Could he notice...? No angry voice chased her, so she assumed that he either didn't know or didn't care. She sighted the requested chains in the corner and made a beeline for them. Then, with no perceivable warning, something penetrated her vagina. She bent her head down, teeth biting hard as the pain and discomfort of being penetrated dry raced through her nerves "No... M-Master.. please..."

"Be silent!" A harsh male voice next to her ear "Let this be a lesson, devil-woman... Master will take you whether you are ready or not!"

She whimpered her distress. Not long ago, she had discovered the purpose of the chemicals he had put into the open wound on her leg. They were hormone inhibitors. No matter what he did... she couldn't get wet, aroused, down there... or experience climax... pleasure was, for the most part, still there... but what he did was too harsh for her to feel anything but pain. Seeking escape when he began the familiar motions, she delved into memory. What she saw, in her mind eyes, was nothing like this. It had been on her seventeenth day of life.

Succubi age extremely strangely in all honesty... by ten days old, they have the body of a teenager... and they would remain like that for almost two hundred years. Then, somewhere close to their two hundred and fifth birthday, they would rapidly age to what would appear to be twenty-four. They would remain like that until the day they die...

She brought her mind back sharply to the comforting memory. Her baptism as a Daemon; as a Succubus. On her seventeenth day, she had been summoned. By the Devil, no doubt. When she arrived, she had been greeted with a bowl of fire. She had been told to drink it. She had. That was the test of trust. She had passed without hesitation. Then it was loyalty... she had been about to kill her own mother when He had stopped her, telling her that she didn't have to do it. She trembled a little, a bit from pain as the man upon her thrust harder, but mostly from the memory of two massive arms pulling her into a strong embrace. She had struggled, at first, but she had soon calmed. Then was her initiation as a Succubus; her first sexual experience. With Satan himself. She smiled despite what was happening, the warmth she had felt back then coming back in a heart-stopping rush. She could remember with untold clarity... He had been so gentle... so kind... It didn't take a genius to know that all the talk of Him was false. He was a god, in his own right. Not as powerful as the Catholic deity... but still damn strong. She felt a tingle of pleasure and followed it, her fingers touching her clitoris gently. What was happening to her was far away as she relived the happiest moment of her life, in the arms of someone she trusted, worshipped... loved...

"Hehh... you're enjoying this... aren't you, whore...?"

The Daemon Lord's hands... rubbing her breasts softly...

"Are you... listening...!?"

The feeling of a huge cock, far too big for her body to take, going in so gently that it didn't hurt...

"Daemon, answer me!"

She felt faint arousal, the drug in her too weak to keep back the intense flood of her body's chemicals at bay, as remembered fingers touched her everywhere pleasurable...

"DAEMON!!!"

The impact of a fist to the back of her head banished the lewd thoughts. She now saw only stars, and the cold stones of the floor. In a moment, her senses came back. She realised that the priest had finished in her, the pain returning. She cried silently at the empty feeling in her heart.

"..." He remained silent. Perhaps he thought that she had been pushed too hard... pushed into madness even...

She hadn't... not yet. With shaking hands, she grabbed the chains he had wanted and held them within his easy reach "T-T-The c-chains, M-M-Master..."

He obviously didn't know what to make of her, for he took them in silence. With a sharp tug, he withdrew from her newly bloodied hole, standing. He grabbed her hair, forcing her to stand "Be still."

She watched despondently as he warily removed the ones binding her feet together and replaced them with the new ones. Next, her wrists were chained. And then her wings. Without another word, he left. The door slammed, a lock closing. Leaving her in darkness...

... alone...

"Oh, Ilerthan... what shall you do...?" She said, sinking against a wall. Crying.