Outer Demons

The whip cracked and sent bones clattering to a cold stone floor. The voiceless dead marched ever closer, torchlight illuminating their empty sockets. Scraping joints echoed down cavernous corridors, broken apart by one man's grunts and shouts. He snapped his whip across another sternum, the animated corpse crumpling to a heap, and snarled in righteous anger. His body ached and dripped with sweat, a day's work spent clearing this abominable castle of its wretched horde. With a sweep of his crucifix, he sent a dozen skeletons back to their graves.

The last bone soldier fell before him, and Allen took a moment to catch his breath. "This godforsaken place is endless!"

He stowed his silver crucifix on his belt, cautiously making his way down the large, opulent hallway. Dusty tapestries untouched by moths or decay showed history long forgotten, broken apart by ever-burning torches and cruel gargoyles. How old was this place? How vast and labyrinthine? He'd passed through sewer, swamp, library and private chambers in quick succession, with no rhyme or reason to their placement. Sometimes he suspected the castle changed: moved its rooms about to confuse him or simply to fit its master's twisted will.

Allen snarled, reinvigorated by hatred. His body may weaken, but his spirit would stay strong. Strong enough to make it to the seat of the darkness' master; the dread lord Tepesh. He owed it to his people, to humanity itself, to bring down the fiend. So many others gave their lives in the attempt. They deserved to know their sacrifices weren't in vain. Adjusting his tunic and belt, Allen said a quiet prayer. God willed it, and it would be so.

He stopped, his lip curling into a frown. As usual, the castle's maze-like structure taunted him; a staircase up into the darkness, another leading down into the catacombs, and a corridor that kept going further ahead than the walls should allow. And not a single hint of what lay beyond any of them.

"Curse this stupid place," He said aloud, "Is there no end to it?"

"Aw, is the little boy lost?" A voice cooed from above him.

Allen turned on his heel, whip and crucifix in hand. "Who's there? Show yourself, demon!"

The voice let out a haughty chuckle, the sound echoing across the vaulted roof. "My, didn't they teach you any manners? That's no way to speak to a lady."

He looked up and spotted a figure sat on a grotesque sculpture. Her legs kicked idly as she ran a finger through her long, snow-white hair, a smug grin plastered across a perfectly sculpted face. Her beauty almost tore his breath away. Almost: pointed ears and thin, black horns betrayed her true nature. What he first thought of as a black leather cloak stretched behind her, revealing a pair of bat-like wings as she fell gracefully to the floor, her high heel clicking on the stone tiles.

"And what manner of monster are you?" Allen asked, taking a step back.

"Such cruel words... how could you call this beauty monstrous?" She ran her hands over her chest, fingertips squeezing icy blue skin. Her enormous breasts threatened to spill out of her leather corset, their efforts thwarted by a single strap exposing cleavage both above and below. Her hands moved lower, over a slender waist and wide hips, and over smooth, shapely thighs clad in black leather stockings. Rivets and scant, decorative silver armour shone in the flickering torchlight.

"You're an abomination," Allen spat.

She put her hand on her hip and glared at him. "And you're a tasteless cretin. We all have our faults, I suppose."

He lashed out with his whip, the tip cracking in the air. The demon leapt back, landing with a dancer's grace.

"My, how forward! We haven't even introduced ourselves yet," she chuckled, "But if that's how you like it, then I'm more than happy to indulge you."

Her hand shot forwards and lightning arced across the room. Allen rolled to the side, the bolt scorching a mark on the stone behind him. He barely had time to stand before the demon hovered in front of him, her gloved hands cupping his face in a lover's embrace. The smell of roses and violets washed over him, her warm breath laden with promises of pleasure and pain. For a moment, his heart stopped beating, and he wanted nothing more than to fall into her arms.

He shoved her aside and shook his head clear. "Stay back!"

"Oh, hush, monster slayer. Why not let Irinsha soothe your tired body?" She squeezed her chest between her elbows, her hands sliding down to her inner thighs.

Allen snapped his whip again and again. Each time the demoness cocked her head aside, the tip narrowly missing her cheek. Irinsha reached out and plucked the tip from the air with casual grace, winding it around her fingers. Allen tugged, but his weapon wouldn't budge. Irinsha giggled behind her other hand and yanked the whip out of his grasp, throwing it over her shoulder.

"I do love your choice of toys, monster slayer." She sauntered toward him. "But you reek of inexperience. Let me show you the pain and pleasure a real mistress can bring you."

"Begone, demon!" Allen said through gritted teeth.

He held his crucifix in front of him, his faith a sturdy shield. Irinsha took one look at the holy symbol, smiled, and grabbed it. Before the shock of her heresy could hit him, another kind of shock doubled Allen over in pain. Bolts of lightning arced from her grip and down the silver. He screamed as every muscle contracted; lances of pain shot down his arm and right to his heart. His knees buckled, but his grip only tightened. Allen collapsed to the floor, and finally, the pain ceased. His whole body twitched and shook against his will, every inch covered in a sharp pain that faded to numbness.

Irinsha tossed the half-melted crucifix to one side. "Pathetic. Not even token resistance. And here I thought you'd be more fun to play with."

She tilted his chin up with her finger, locking her evil grey eyes with his. The smug smirk on her face hurt more than the electricity could. Allen swung his fist at her face, missing by a wide margin. He stumbled back onto his feet, arms raised for another punch. Her heel slammed into his stomach. Breathless, he barely had time to think before her foot crashed into the side of his head, sending him back to the ground.

He pushed himself up with his hands, his body still aching from her lightning. Allen got a single glance up at Irinsha, her leg raised high above her head before it came crashing down. And with it came darkness.

***

His head swam. Flashes of hazy memory popped in and out of Allen's mind. Hands hoisting him into the air. Corridors and archways moving past him. The slam of a massive, dungeon door. Chattering and giggling. Her voice barking muffled orders. And laughter; so much smug, triumphant laughter.

Allen shook his head and blinked. Cold, clammy darkness surrounded him. Metal dug into his wrists and ankles, clinking as he tested his limited range of motion; chains, then, holding his tired arms above his head and his feet apart. He swallowed, his throat dusty and dry. In the distance, things shambled, clunked, and screamed. The still, stale air bordered on suffocating, cool enough to bring goosebumps across his bare chest.

Not dead. Not yet.

The more his eyes adjusted to the darkness, the more he began to fear: barely five feet square of stone walls and floor to call his own, a single iron door in front of him. The kind of cell you reserved for the insane or the doomed. Allen yanked at his chains, testing their strength against his own. No chance of them pulling free. His muscles already ached from the strain, nevermind the dull, lingering pain from the demon bitch's magic.

His ears pricked up; the click of heels echoed from behind the door. His hands balled into fists. A dim, flickering light gradually appeared, bobbing in time with the footsteps. Allen closed his eyes as it drew closer, the change almost blinding. The door creaked open.

"My, aren't you a sorry sight?"

He glowered at the succubus.

"Aw, cat got your tongue?" Irinsha pouted. She giggled, opening her lantern and gently coaxing the flame out into the open air. It hovered like a will 'o wisp, before splitting in two and flying up to the vaulted ceiling. The flames hovered near a pair of holes into which his chains vanished. "I hope I didn't strike you dumb. That would make the next part much less fun."

"Do what you want, fiend," Allen spat.

"Oh, I intend to. But what I really want requires a little... cooperation."

"You'll get none from me!"

She laughed. "We'll see about that."

Setting her lantern on the cell floor, Irinsha stepped toward him. Allen flinched back as far as the chains would allow. She dragged her hands over his naked chest. He shivered, but not from cold: despite the pale, icy blue of her skin, her touch was warm and gentle. Irinsha traced her fingertips over the valleys and contours of his muscles. Her eager eyes followed close behind.

"What a lovely prize you are," she purred, "So strong. So gallant. And yet here you are: helpless in my grasp."

Irinsha pushed up on her tiptoes, whispering into his ear. "How pathetic."

Allen growled and lunged forwards, his bonds rattling. Irinsha stepped back with a haughty laugh.

"Still some fire left? Good. It gives me something to beat out of you."

"Try all you want," Allen said, "I won't be bested by some hellish harlot."

"Harlot?" She raised an annoyed eyebrow.

Her hand flashed forward, and Allen screamed: four shallow cuts opened across his chest, droplets of warm blood forming at the ends. Irinsha held her fingers up to his face, sharp nails retracting, as red dripped down to her palm. She smirked and lapped the blood from her hand, her long tongue curling around her fingers like a snake.

"Bad pets get punished," She said bluntly.

"I am no pet." Allen winced.

Irinsha darted forward, a sharp nail pressing against his throat. Glaring into his eyes, her voice dripped with venom. "You are what I say you are."

Her nail dug into his skin, threatening to draw yet more blood. Or worse, cleave his throat open. Allen steeled himself, staring Irinsha down. Her expression softened, moving from hatred to a kind of piteous amusement. She brought her finger up to his cheek, dragging it along his chin.

"And I say you're my darling pet, to play with as I please." She slid down his body, lapping up the trails of blood on his chest. Her tongue slithered along the contours of his chest, the hideous tickling forcing Allen to squirm. Irinsha chuckled and walked her fingers down his body and traced them along the top of his hose.

"Have you no shame?" Allen asked.

"What use is shame? All it does is hold you back from the pleasures of the flesh. Pleasure I'd be happy to show you if you only asked." Irinsha circled his navel. "Hmm, that's not quite true. You'd have to do more than ask. Beg, for instance."

Her sharp nails cut through his hose, and the tattered remnants slid down his legs. A flash of heat his Allen's cheeks as the last of his modesty vanished. They grew hotter as his captor laughed.

"My, what a fun toy you'll make!" She cupped his cock and balls, stroking and squeezing them with firm hands. "And believe me, it'll be just as much fun for you if you submit."

Allen struggled against his bonds, recoiling from her touch. Her expert fingers teased small waves of pleasure from him. A pleasure that made his skin crawl and anger rise. She cooed and chuckled as she worked, her tongue tracing along the cuts her nails had left. Irinsha pressed a finger to his hilt, and the tip glowed a cold purple. Allen's struggles grew. A tiny spot of warmth burnt its way onto his skin: a tingling reverberating out from it. Her finger pulled away to reveal a small purple sigil emblazoned just above his cock, its glow slowly dying until it looked no different to a tattoo.

"What foul magic is that?" He strained against the chains, the metal refusing to yield.

"Oh, nothing much. Just a little mark to show the whole world that you're mine."

"Die, monster!" Allen snarled. "You don't belong in this world!"

Irinsha huffed, her hip cocked in annoyance. She snapped her fingers. The chains grew taut, yanking his wrists and ankles to the side. They pulled tighter, forcing his back to arch and painfully holding his limbs. Allen grit his teeth. He wouldn't show her weakness. Not a single scream of pain!

"My, my, you're doing quite well." Irinsha cupped his cheek. His chains pulled harder, lifting his feet off the ground. Inch by inch they grew shorter, like a rack pulling him apart by the shoulders and hips.

"I won't bend!" He snarled. "I will not break!"

"How brave of you. Foolish, but brave."

The manacles around his wrists and ankles dug into the skin. His shoulders threatened to pop from their sockets. His chest burned, as about to rip in half from the strain.

"No torture will make me serve you." Allen hissed.

"Torture? Oh, you simple thing. This isn't torture: it's punishment. The more you disobey, the more pain you will feel." She dragged her nail down his chest and stomach. "But the more you choose to serve me..."

Irinsha knelt, dragging her hands down his sides. She kissed across his stomach, running her tongue over his navel, dropping lower and lower until her head hovered by his crotch. Her fingers ran over his member and sack. He flinched from her touch: at least, as much as his bindings would allow him. She giggled and swirled her tongue over his tip. Sharp nails traced the contours of his thigh muscles while her lips peppered his groin. Irinsha opened her mouth wide, letting her tongue hang out with a lewd 'ah!' before swallowing his flaccid shaft. Sucking and bobbing her head, her warm mouth and dextrous tongue coaxed tainted pleasure from his cock. Try as he might, his body betrayed him.

"E-enough! Get away from-!" He grunted in pain as the chains tightened.

"Ah, ah." She wagged her finger at him. With one nail she cut away the strap holding the cups of her corset. The leather fell away, and her enormous breasts spilt out: flawless, icy skin and dark nipples on proud display. Irinsha ran her hands over her chest, squeezing and kneading the ample flesh with a soft coo. She arched her back and pressed her warm body against his. "How do they feel, pet? Are they soft? Warm? Inviting?"

Allen bit his lip to quell the pain.

"Oh, that won't do." Irinsha purred. She rolled her tongue around her mouth and let a dollop of drool drip down into the valley between her breasts. Positioning herself, she sandwiched his cock between them and pressed them together. The sheer size almost enveloped him completely in smooth skin.

She slowly bounced on her knees, looking up at him and licking her lips. Her breasts glided over his cock, her fingers sinking into the plush flesh as they squeezed tightly. Allen shuddered. The pain of the chains nearly overwhelmed his senses, but not the pleasure. Slow and deliberate, she spat and stroked and squeezed against him, surrounding his shaft in slick warmth.

"Ooh, you seem to be enjoying this." Irinsha's tongue darted across his tip as it poked out of her cleavage.

"I would never-!" He started, the chains silencing him with another painful stretch.

"Good pets don't lie to their mistress," She moved her chest faster, the wet slaps echoing through the tiny cell.

The chains slackened enough to stop the pain, leaving Allen to squirm. The pressure at his hilt mounted slowly, despite his best efforts to ignore her teasing. He rammed his eyes shut to ignore the sight of it; to ignore the smug look in her eyes. She hummed and purred louder. The way her skin glided over his, the warmth and softness surrounding his sensitive tip, her hot breath and dextrous tongue flicking over his cock... He bit his lip and tried to focus on the pain instead. It didn't work.

"Why do you resist, pet? Your hips are twitching, begging to fuck your mistress' tits. You already know it feels good."

No sooner had she said it than his hips jerked forward, as if trying to bury his cock further into her breasts. Her pace quickened and the pressure built at his base, forcing his hips to jerk harder and faster. Allen tried to hold his body back, but the pleasure called. His cock ached, the begging moving from the back of his mind to the forefront, the pressure mounting to an unbearable level.

He cried out as he spilt over, the pressure erupting out of his cock. Pulses of pleasure ripped through him. Irinsha's chest kept moving, coaxing rope after rope of cum to spurt and ooze from his tip, pooling in her cleavage and collarbone. His mind blanked out, leaving only a white haze that gently settled. The last pulse rocked his body, and he hung limp in his bonds.

The haze quickly gave way to shame.

Irinsha stood, cum dripping off her face and chest. She snapped her fingers, and the chains slackened, almost letting Allen slump forward. Her nail dragged up his sensitive cock, sending a shiver through his spine, and trailed its way up to his chin. She titled his head up to meet her triumphant gaze.

"See?" She said, "Obedience feels so much better."

"I will never obey you..." He panted.

"Oh, you will. The only thing you can change is how long it'll take. And how much fun I'll have breaking you." Irinsha stood, scooping cum from her face with slow, sensual motions. She lapped and sucked her fingers clean and made a big show of swallowing. She squeezed her cum-covered tits and laughed as his face flushed red again. "Look at you! You're already cracking."

He tore his eyes away from her lewd display. Her laughter echoed around the cell as she sauntered out. The door slammed shut behind her, the locks screeching back into place. Allen closed his eyes, silently praying to God for the strength to endure whatever tortures the she-devil had in store.

***

Her heels clicked in the dark, the steps growing louder. Allen wrapped his hands around the chains and gritted his teeth. Her lantern's light bobbed behind the door, casting long shadows across the stone floor. The heavy iron door screeched open, and she stepped inside.

"How... long?" Allen's voice was hoarse, burnt out from screaming.

"Days. Weeks. What does it matter to you?" Irinsha said. She pulled the light from her lantern and let it and its twin fly back to their usual spaces. The flickering orange light danced over the ever-growing pattern of scratches and bruises that covered Allen's skin. She dragged her nail over one of the oldest, he mouth curling into a smirk as he flinched back. "For all you know, no time has passed at all outside this castle. Or maybe a hundred years, your memory long since lost to the dust."

Allen growled, weakly tugging his chains. His arms and legs felt as if they had always been stuck in their spread-eagle pose. As heavy and stiff as the stone that surrounded him.

"And still you have that fire in you!" Irinsha chuckled haughtily. "Where was that fire in our fight, hmm? That drive? That will?"

She grabbed his chin, nails digging into his stubbly jaw. "Look at you now: you're a shell. A fragile thing pretending to be strong. I could shatter you beneath my heel and grind you to dust if I wanted."

"Then, why don't you?" Allen spat.

"Because shells are such pretty things." She stroked his cheek like she'd just whispered sweet nothings in his ear.

Irinsha snapped her fingers. A gaggle of girlish voices whispered and laughed from the other side of the doorway. Half a dozen colourful heads poked out from around the frame, each crowned with a unique set of black horns. The succubi giggled as one, a few of them biting or licking their lips as they ogled Allen's naked body.

He tensed and shifted his position. "You need more to break me, demon?"

"Oh, please, as if I need the aid of these lesser things," Irinsha scoffed.