Rebecca was proud of herself for maintaining two magical processes that fooled both a master wizard and a major demon while controlling her fear. Her protection spell was keeping her warm despite her nakedness as well as protecting her from the demon's awful whip. An illusion spell was making red marks appear on her flesh, occasionally leaking blood, in response to the crack of the whip. The illusion wasn't hard to create in the dim light of the dungeon although having her hands stretched over her head in iron shackles didn't help. Lust of man and demon limited their sight as well. Controlling her discomfort as well as her fear kept her magic undetected and intact.
The situation resembled her mother's torture at the hands of Michael's brother. Occasionally the memory flashed through her mind, but she gave it no energy, returning to the image of the apple tree at home in full bloom laden with fruit to keep her focus.
"Tell me where the rebel headquarters is!" The mage was wearing a dark brown robe trimmed with bright red fur, and his dark booted foot tapped impatiently on the stone floor. His bright blue eyes glowed with range. The room was lit by two feeble torches, yet the light turned his bright red hair and beard vivid. His body was not thin, but not plump either; he was roughly the same height as Rebecca's father was, which was neither extreme. He was standing in a protection Circle permanently installed in the floor with tile: a brazier offered acrid smoke to fuel his magic.
The Demon Hamate glowered as he went about his work. His skin was light green, his eyes black with white irises, the end of his tail hovered above his head, and his muscular body sweated as he used the three stranded whip. Naked, his two phalluses bumped against each other in their excitement. His black tongue darted out to moisten his lips, and a low chuckle bubbled from between his needle sharp teeth. "It won't be long now, Master. She's taken more today than the past three months."
"You can't last forever, Rebecca. Sooner or later you will tell me. Sooner or later your miraculous power to heal yourself overnight will fail; magic has its limits." He signaled the demon who seem to lay three bright stripes across Rebecca's back. She moaned a little bit and wiggled, saying nothing. "Very well. No mercy, Hamate."
Rebecca took care to squirm in response to the whipping even though the leather never touched her flesh. Standing on her toes helped the tension on her arms a little: that was the greatest difficulty she had. The demon worked relentlessly, moving to cover as much of her pale flesh with his whip as he could. The mage parted of the front of his robe exposing his manhood, and began to stroke himself.
In less than a minute, sticky white rain fell on the floor, smoking slightly. His head leaned back and he groaned; the demon stopped to laugh at him and play with himself as well. Rebecca took the opportunity to shift her focus: not needing the protection spell, she reduced the energy she was feeding it and the illusion to work on the magical control the Mage wielded over the demon. It was like standing on a cliff above a dangling person in peeling away one finger at a time. She had already done the equivalent of peeling away six fingers, but the Mage didn't pleasure himself at her daily torture session every time, so she had to take each opportunity she when he lost control in orgasm.
She could feel his senses coming back and stopped her undoing. The other spells were back at full power when his eyes cleared and he grimaced at her. The demon continued with both hands until a black gusher shot from his double endowment, rewarded with a quick lightning shot to his genitals from the mage. "You hung on today, Rebecca. Tomorrow we will have to come up with something else. That is unless your Master Michael gives in to Lily's charms first."
"I don't know where the rebels are. I don't even know what a map of your empire looks like. You are torturing me for no reason other than your pleasure." Her statements were accurate: her contact with the rebels was only through extra dimensional suggestion and all she did was nurture their courage and will to resist. The Mage's Empire was brutal enough it spawned resistance easily.
The demon disappeared with a quick wave of banishment, and the Mage walked over to face her. "One can have multiple reasons," he said in a silky tone. He reached between her legs and tried to force his fingers inside her, but he yelped in pain and quickly put them in his mouth. Speaking awkwardly he said: "I'm amazed that the strength of your magic. For one so young, your control and tightness of focus is amazing. But I shall break you and you will be mine forever."
"Larry seems like such an odd name for a powerful Mage-Emperor," she said in an undertone.
He growled, took his hand out of his mouth and tried to slap her hard across the cheek. An electrical discharge made him scream in pain, jumping up and down with his hand between his legs until the pain subsided. He gave her a dark look and stomped out in frustration.
In another room, Michael said: "Rook to King two, check."
Lily's brow furrowed and she regarded Michael's move. There were only seven pieces on the chessboard, White had one more than Black. Michael sat in a large overstuffed chair, placidly smoking a pipe. The game coincided with Rebecca's torture session at the Emperor's hands. Michael was moving his pieces from within his sphere of protection, which was a little bit lighter than the rest of the room, and its light blue tinge contrasted with the dark red hue the fireplace provided. She sat in another more spartan chair near the fire next to the table which held the chessboard. "So you really have had no contact with the rebels?" she murmured while pondering her position.
"You can sense that. I'm being completely honest with you."
"But you're not telling me all you know."
He shrugged his shoulders and looked his palms. "Who does?" Contact with the rebels was something he was letting Rebecca handle. His task was more subtle. "It takes all my power enable to maintain my mind's independence while you have my body constrained."
She laughed. "I'm amazed we caught you so easily. You are obviously a mage of great power and a threat to my husband and I. Surely you had a lapse in judgment to go sightseeing in our sphere of influence. Trust me, had you stayed at home on the other side of the world, we would not even have noticed you and your girlfriend."
Shrugging again, he said: "She wanted to travel, and experience it as ordinary people did. Visions in a scrying crystal were not enough. Come now, we were all young and impulsive once."
Her gaze returned to the chessboard as she considered her next move. After several minutes silence, she laid her King on its side in resignation. "That's the only wrong move I've known you to make the entire time you've been here. You over estimated your ability to keep yourself safe from us. I'm amazed."
"Come now, I haven't beaten you every night we played chess."
"But it's taken all my concentration just to draw with you. This is the third time you've defeated me; I've never defeated you."
"It's a matter of skill. Obviously I'm a better chess player then you are."
Her eyebrow furrowed and a slight smile creased her lips. "You are the only chess player who has ever mastered me. Perhaps we should play another game, Michael."
He blew a smoke ring and looked at her calmly. She stood up: a tall woman with waist-long blonde hair. Her hands were delicate, her fingers long, her nails painted red. She wore a deep blue gown the same shade as her eyes. Snapping her fingers, her garment disappeared. Gentle curves best described her, as well as grace and subtle strength. Her breasts were heavy and her nipples dimpled in the red light. "Perhaps this gambit will be more to your liking and my advantage, hmm?"
