Bliss Ch. 11

Penitent took wing, ready to deliver the meal she had collected to her hungry offspring. This time, Bliss could track her direction and distance through their mental connection. She was also aware of the shivery feeling that the succubus felt when she anticipated draining away her newly-acquired energy. Bliss hadn't realized that Penitent was afraid of getting completely sucked dry; she had had the strength to do so for some time now. Was she really so erratic that her mother thought she couldn't control herself in that regard? And furthermore, what exactly had she thought Penitent did to get that energy? She hadn't thought about it, plain and simple. A strangely similar shiver went through her, distinctly different in origin yet familiar in the end result. Mortals were dying to feed her. Her soul came from the callous and cruel drow portion of her heritage, so the thought was not completely disagreeable. The thought dissipated as she sensed Penitent's return

"How was Hell today, mother?"

The she-demon didn't like the false politeness in her daughter's tone, and the calm was also suspicious.

"It was hot."

Her flat reply didn't seem to put Bliss out in the slightest. She didn't know whether or not to be grateful. The souls that Mischief had given her were weighing heavy on her, though, so the two of them fell into a routine that had formed over the last two decades. Penitent usually cradled Bliss, as she always had, even though the girl was now larger than she. She had the strength to hold a creature larger than herself to her chest; Bliss, on the other hand, could tear a creature stronger than Penitent in half. More than tradition, the succubus hoped that holding Bliss in such a manner would continue to make her feel small, make her feel vulnerable and dependent, de-emphasizing her strength. It didn't work so well when Bliss could read her mind like an open book. Except, she WAS dependent.

So she suckled. Like a baby, the twenty-year-old, nearly seven feet tall, amazon-like demon girl sucked at her mother's pink, luscious nipples, nipples made for male temptation rather than nourishment. Bliss drank in the souls of Wychar, Mychal, and Wenecia, and they tasted all the more delicious for her familiarity with how they were acquired. She felt gratitude towards Penitent as well, but had no idea what it meant. Her mother hadn't been able to teach her about emotions she couldn't feel herself. A small part of Bliss, the tiny shred of soul she possessed, even loved the succubus, but it manifested itself in equally small ways.

Bliss stopped before she was full, a rarity. She could now sense when Penitent was getting in distress, and decided she didn't need any more.

"Wonderful, mother. And, by the way, I don't plan on draining you to destruction."

Penitent was shocked that her fear was known, and that magnified it significantly.

"Bliss, I- how- what do you mean?"

"I have been reading your thoughts ever since you sent them to me on purpose."

The demoness' mouth dropped open, a reflection of her time amongst mortals.

"Yes, Mischief gave you -and me- quite a show. Although, the vision of me being raped to death was perhaps a better show..."

Penitent began backing away from Bliss.

"Mother, I know what you are. I know you would throw me away to any of the Dark Powers to save yourself. Don't be afraid. There is no betrayal for what was never promised."

This did not relax the succubus.

"Really, training me as a sex-slave is probably the best thing I can hope for..."

Bliss gave Penitent a dangerous look.

"Mother, I DO actually love you. You don't know what that means, but I wouldn't hurt you for minor gain. You wouldn't even do that to me, and you CAN'T love me."

Penitent finally seemed to calm a little. However, she still seemed bewildered, and frightened. Bliss had had a very dangerous tone in her voice, and her words were no less disconcerting. The succubus' mind was racing; Bliss' new power might mean danger, something more than just her growth.

"What danger?"

'The danger that you might advertise yourself to the wrong someone or something, and come under the attention of a Prince of Hell'

She had meant to say it out loud, then simply thought it instead. Bliss nodded.

"Yes, that is a legitimate fear, but I can't undo it. I seem to be unable to stop listening. Perhaps I can escape notice by not using it to speak in turn..."

Penitent thought the idea had merit, but was still uneasy. She thought it best to stay in their abode for as long as Bliss could last on the energy she had just delivered.

"I agree," Bliss stated, nodding again.

'Get out of my head!' Penitent thought angrily.

"I can't, mother," came the girl's reply, then, in a teasing tone, she continued: "Think pleasant thoughts."

In a fury, Penitent thought about her worst fears for Bliss: a variation of the thought of her being raped by the Black Prince, but not he, rather one of his ilk who would have no use at all for keeping Bliss alive. In her mind's eye, she saw the Formless One's hideous gelatinous bulk flowing over Bliss' body, pseudopods invading her orifices and dissolving her from the inside out. Soon, Bliss was nothing more than a bag of black skin with a face like a deflated mask. The skin turned translucent, and then melded with the surface membrane of the body of the Prince of Oozes, where other deflated, similarly-translucent skins of various mortals floated and screamed voicelessly.

Then she thought of the Lord of Undeath, and Bliss saw the skull-headed demon lord spearing her relatively tiny satin-skinned body on his massive member, only to have it stab into her far beyond the capacity of her love canal, rending organs and flesh. The bat-winged humanoid, in Penitent's tableau fully twice Bliss' height or more, held her impaled on his mighty rod until she stopped twitching, then gestured with one clawed hand to surround her corpse with black and red necromantic energy. Bliss watched her own reanimated body begin to force itself back and forth on the demonic manhood which had killed her, until the body tore itself apart atop the invading appendage.

Next was the two-headed, tentacle-armed Prince of All Demons. Both heads seemed to agree that they should grab her legs with one tentacle each, and encircle her arms with the two ends of their forked tail, but after pulling in four directions and dislocating all her limbs, they fell into an argument over whether or not they should eat or rape her, then elected to do both, initially meaning to rape her first, but biting off her head in mid-stroke.

Bliss fell, the horror of the images overwhelming her. The succubus caught her.

"You see now. You thought you were ready for the horrors of Hell..."

The demon-girl began weeping hopelessly. The succubus continued to hold her, but would not comfort her.

"You know I've never had a use for that crying. A good fuck is the only cure I know for it..."

Bliss struggled to regain her composure; the images of three horrible deaths did not her leave her wanting to play Penitent's favorite game.

"You see, I hold out the hope that the Dark Prince of Pleasure and Pain may want you as a consort, seeing the superficial physical similarity. It would be entirely within his personality to want a dark trinket like yourself to drape over his arm, for the sake of fashion if nothing else. So I struggle to train you, hoping you may be worth more than a simple fuck-slave to him if he discovers you. I am one of his creatures, you know. He will likely catch us eventually. Maybe I will be rewarded for grooming you for such a role, or maybe I will be chastised harshly, but your only hope is to pleasure him ceaselessly from the moment you are allowed to."

Bliss did not relish this new fate, preferable though it may have been to the others.

"Maybe we can get you to the mortal realm; I wasn't lying about trying that. It is possible, though unlikely, that you could be summoned."

This did not comfort Bliss as much as Penitent may have hoped. Before the succubus' next thought had fully formed, Bliss was already shaking her head in denial.

"No, we can't trust Mischief. No one can trust her. She's a demon," Bliss said, sounding as if the thought were hers. Penitent only nodded.

"I could read her thoughts when her mind connected with yours. I could have read more, instead of watching her tale unfold. Perhaps if you go out into the underworld and form such connections with the other demons here, I can sift their thoughts for something useful."

Penitent thought of the danger of Bliss making herself known by using her mind-powers too frequently, and it was of course picked up. They spent the next hour in strange debate and argument, Penitent hardly needing to talk at all, Bliss voicing her thoughts so that they were effectively thinking with two minds, but they had no better ideas than the most dangerous ones. Finally, both were exhausted with mental exercise. The succubus and her daughter both retired to the couch once more, where Bliss had strange half-dreams of hers and Penitent's thoughts, and later on, a tickle in Bliss' mind became stronger and stronger, until she was pulled into another's dream.

She was back to torment his dreams again, the nude black valkyrie. Durzai snarled at the phantasmal charms he suspected he would never savor. This time, however, the vision of the demon-drow was looking puzzled, not angry. She turned towards him, seeing him as if she had not haunted his dreams for a decade or more, a look of surprise and recognition coming a second later.

"Durzai."

The drow was also surprised for a second, then it turned to anger.

"You acknowledge me only now, you Infernal temptress?"

Bliss managed to remain calm, the omnipresent anger held in check. Understanding fell over her.

"You dream of me."

Durzai scoffed.

"Do you have anything to say but the patently obvious?"

Muscles and breasts rippled as Bliss approached her father's image.

"I will say what I will. And you do not wish to talk."

The demon-girl reached the massive warrior, though she barely had to tilt her face up to look in his eyes. Her skin glistened like black silk, her chest heaved, and a hot breeze rippled her chalk-white hair. Overcome with lust, Durzai reached for her, and was not rebuffed.