Hell Hath No Fury 11

"Sire! We have one subject who is particularly troublesome..." a subservient kobold reportedly to the Demon King in a quivering voice.

"Have you not administered the truth serum?" the Demon King's voice boomed as they walked down the hall to the dungeons.

"The method seems ineffective," he replied. He didn't mention exactly why.

"Very well. Perhaps we will have to try more... personal ways," the king salivated. "I will perform this... interrogation myself." He smiled wickedly, revealing his gleaming, sharp teeth.

"As you wish, sire," the kobold sighed in relief.

Demon King Abbadon strolled through his musty dungeon hallway, hands clasped behind his back. He passed rows of either broken or dead prisoners, until he reached his new victim.

She was bound in a chair, an iron collar wrapped around her wrists and neck. Despite the squalor and mistreatment, only her clothes showed any sign of dilapidation. The tattered rags she was wearing showed off her exquisite form. Her tanned skin glowed with health, her flesh unmarked and perfectly smooth. He gazed upon her, tracing the contours of her long legs, hairless, pleasantly slender yet toned, a smooth bronze tan covering them just like the rest of her.

His gaze traveled past her wide hips. A handful of firm bulges adorned her stomach, strong yet still feminine. Her abs looked like they had taken dedicated training to develop... he couldn't wait to drive his meaty demonic fist into it to show her what real power was like.

Her breasts were on full display, thanks to the mistreatment she supposedly had received at their hands, but they, as well, appeared completely unharmed. They looked full and firm, beautifully rounded and perky, with a pair of chocolate nipples poking out of the rags.

Her eyes were closed, presumably sleeping off and trying to recover whatever torture his minions had applied. Her long, gleaming blonde hair was completely unsullied. The strands were so long, so thick, so lustrous, and seemed to give off their own golden shine.

He couldn't wait to ruin her.

As he unlocked the cell and walked in, she suddenly looked up at him, her eyes, a beautiful deep pool of blue, snapped open. With a big smile, showing off her perfect teeth, she greeted him.

"Hi there!" she chirped.

"Playing tough, I see. It appears my minions have been ineffective, but I assure you, you will put up no such resistance with me," he snarled menacingly.

"Oh, were they trying to hurt me? I thought they were giving me an ineffective massage..." she goaded.

"We'll see how much bravado you can muster after you spend some time with me!"

"Ooh, kinky! You must be into bondage then!" She rotated her bound wrists.

Abbadon maintained his calm demeanor. He wasn't going to give in to this prisoner's taunting.

From a nearby table, he grabbed one of his torture instruments of choice, a thumbscrew. It was a nice way to break the smallest part of a victim, hearing them scream and surrender while leaving them intact for later play.

"Hey man, weird stuff, but I won't judge you."

He snorted and placed the device on the armrest in front of her hand. He grabbed her roughly, placing it in the vice.

"I thought you liked doing rough stuff? If you wanted to hold hands, you could've just asked me."

Annoyed by her lack of intimidation, he began to screw the vice down. When it made contact with her thumb, he watched her beautiful face as he slowly tightened it.

The only reaction she had was to raise an eyebrow at him.

He twisted faster and faster, until the vice was touching, top and bottom, along the edges. The middle of it had molded to the shape of her thumb, which remained completely unharmed. Even her nail remained perfectly manicured. He watched her wriggle it around.

"Another boring massage," she sighed. "Who ever thought to massage a thumb?"

Abbadon was annoyed, but he had no doubt that he would break this prisoner. He threw the ruined torture device to the side and moved onto the next one.

Grabbing an iron molded into the letter 'A', he exhaled searing hot flames onto it, making it glow bright white. He smiled at his prisoner, slowly bringing it toward the canyon of her glorious cleavage.

"It would be such a shame to ruin your beauty..."

"Aw really, you think I'm beautiful?" she gushed. "I think my heart just skipped a beat!"

He growled and brought it in close proximity to her skin. He expected her to grimace, but she just made doe eyes at him and winked.

Tired of her taunting, he pushed the searing hot iron into her chest. Her tattered rags burst into flames, but her tanned skin retained its healthy glow. Tilting her head, she blew away the flames and embers of the remains of her prisoner's uniform.

"Hey! You're making me pretty thirsty. Can I have something to drink?" she asked over the ineffective sizzle of the iron.

Abbadon cast it aside. Tired of her insolence, he moved onto more lethal options. He snapped twice, signaling for one of their most potent poisons. He had discovered that she was remarkably tough on the outside, but he felt for certain the same could not be true for her insides.

"Here you go," he placed the goblet before her, smiling wickedly.

"Um, help?" she glanced at her bound hands.

"Of course."

He placed the goblet before her lips, the vile vapors of the poison sure to invade her senses. Tilting the cup, he began to pour it down her throat, making sure the flow was too strong, causing anyone else to gag and choke before swallowing.

She gulped it all down and licked her slim, pink lips.

"Hey dude, that was pretty gross. Don't you have something better? Is this how you treat all your guests?"

He smiled at her disrespect. If she knew what she'd just drunk, she wouldn't be so cocky.

"Now, young miss, you have just imbibed a mix of the strongest known poisons we have discovered. Cyanide from one universe, iocaine from another, and basilisk venom from ours. Within minutes, you will start to dissolve from the inside. Your teeth will rot and fall out of your face as your lips and tongue melt... that is, unless you play along and tell me about the ultimate guardian of your dimension. If you assist us, I will give you the antidote."

"Dude, very funny. I don't know nothing about no ultimate guardian, and even if I did... I don't feel too bad from whatever that gross drink was."

Abbadon snorted, a plume of hot steam emitted from his nostrils smothering her face. He was growing tired of her impudence and wanted to scald her.

She didn't register it at all and simply inhaled.

"Sheesh, take a breath mint while you're at it!"

He strolled around the cell, his heavy hooves echoing in the small area. When she yawned, he suppressed a growl of frustration and snapped his fingers once more. His minions brought him another goblet.

"I see you are tougher than most of your pathetic comrades, but you won't survive two of our poisons," he asserted confidently.

"Uh huh," she yawned again.

Abbadon rushed up to her and gripped her by the chin, squeezing hard to try and cause her to yelp.

"Hey man, if you want me to drink it, just tell me," she said, her jaw completely unimpaired by his inhuman grip, and even moving his hand freely with her speech.

"DRINK!" he yelled, pouring the whole thing down her open mouth.

She swallowed all of it and licked her lips.

"Dude, this one was even worse."

"You bi--," he began, before regaining his composure. He had barely started. It would be just that much more satisfying when he did break her.

The sadistic king left the cell and locked it up, bringing down a thick fiberglass screen. He nodded to the guards, signaling them to unleash a deadly gas that should cause her to retch and vomit all over herself. The pipes gurgled, and Abbadon watched in anticipation as the green poison mist sprayed into her cell.

His jaw dropped in shock as she took a deep breath, her chest expanding, putting her spectacular breasts on display as all the air in the room flooded into her lungs. She even seemed to be pulling the gas from their reservoir faster than their system could pump it.

"Turn it off! Turn it off!" he heard his minions cry out. Her inhalation was so powerful that they couldn't even twist the valves against the force of her breathing. The tank was soon empty.

Abbadon watched her exhale gently, showing no ill effect at all. Then, she lifted her arms, ripping the metal restraints off the chair as if they weren't attached. Her fingers gouged the metal collar around her neck before she tore the metal apart, leaving only twisted, deformed steel. She extended her long, luscious legs, and strolled to the cell bars.

"Hello? I'm bored now. Leaving."

The blonde strode right through the cell bars and fiberglass. Her slender limbs and nubile body crashed into steel and fiberglass, the shattered fragments slicing into the prison guards' skin and embedding in their flesh. In contrast, the collapsing barrier merely grazed her tanned flesh and left it completely unscathed. The only other person to get out unaffected was Abbadon himself.

To her surprise, he smiled in satisfaction. "You have told me what I wanted to know after all, little girl."

"What's that? Your drinks are nasty and you're boring?"

"You are the ultimate guardian of this dimension. And I've crushed so many of them. I look forward to crushing you as well and hearing your screams of mercy," he salivated. "And then, yet another dimensional power will be mine."

She shrugged, the remnants of her rags falling off, leaving her nude body on full display. Sizing up one of the guards, she flicked him with her dainty foot before catching him mid flight, snapping his neck, and taking his clothing for herself.

"Want to take it outside, big boy?"

Abbadon sent his forces at this mysterious guardian. The warzone was littered with spent arrows and corpses of both riders and beasts of the initial mounted assault. In the middle of it stood his beautiful, ultimate adversary, a blonde girl with a bored look on her face. Still, he was not worried. The pawns go first, after all.

The final orc mounted oliphant charged into the mysterious champion, making full contact at top speed as it crashed into her comparatively tiny body.

The oliphant stopped in its tracks as the shockwave rippled in a cone behind her. Her silken tresses barely flickered in response, but that was the only sign her body registered that there had even been an impact. However, the warbeast and rider were not as lucky.

The oliphant looked as if it were actually being flattened from hitting an immovable wall. It collapsed on its knees and gave its death knell, appropriately, directly in front of the stunning blonde. Its rider, long since dead from the force of the impact, was flung from its reins and flew off into the distance as if he were fired from a cannon, embedding itself in dense earth.

The blonde grabbed the oliphant by its trunk and threw it over her shoulder, sending it over the horizon.

Abbadon harrumphed as he watched his final warbeast get broken and spent. He signaled the catapults to launch. They cut the ropes, sending large tons of stone her way.

The avalanche of raining projectiles covered their target in shadow, making it hard for even Demon King Abbadon to see it clearly. The earth rumbled as they impacted, the stone shattering and sending deadly fragments flying in every direction. As the clattering sound finally subsided and the dust settled, all that remained was she, visibly standing underneath the largest stone which had landed directly on her head. It had cracked neatly down the middle where it struck her unbreakable skull, and now fell in two whole pieces on either side of her. Her armor had been ripped and torn by all of the abuse, but her tanned skin and shining hair looked as beautiful as ever, completely unmarked.

Abbadon ordered the next attack. The little kobolds lit long fuses as they fired another volley at her. The incendiary payload struck its target, covering the rubble with oil and burning flame.

He watched carefully as the hellfire grew and absorbed everything within. Minutes passed as the flame roared. Finally, through the plume of thick, black smoke, he saw a silhouette approaching. She emerged once again, now fully naked. She fluffed her hair, still the same silky shine as before, the heat emanating from it visible as the air bent around it, but still impotent to harm her.

His army was truly worthless. But his unwavering confidence remained unshaken. No one had ever been able to withstand him in the end.

"Attack!" Abbadon ordered, wanting to rid himself of these imbeciles.

The ground troops stormed forth, screaming their warcry at the top of their lungs. She merely continued walking forward at her casual pace.

The front line assaulted her, swinging their blades wildly. They bent and broke against her unbreakable body, not even denting her supple skin. She didn't react at all, but continued to walk forward. The rear lines began to crash into the front, trampling and impaling each other with their weaponry. The pile up did nothing to impede her as she continued to wade through their bodies, brushing them aside or merely stepping over them. She waved at Abbadon and smiled, accidentally clotheslining another soldier to his death as his weapon bounced uselessly off her slender limb. Even their blood, which splashed over her constantly, slid right off of her beauty.

Abbadon smirked at her impudence. He was merely toying with her, as a cat would a mouse. The true assault was far from over. He called the next step of his plan into motion, and he suspected there was no way this little waif would survive the new weaponry he had found in his most recently conquered dimension.

Abbadon smiled as his new military flooded out of the dimensional portals. Their attire was strange, but there was no denying their firepower. During his conquest, his regular army stood no chance against their flying machines and brutally efficient, as well as accurate, ranged weaponry. But of course, this foreign army in turn had stood no chance against his own personal demonic might. Nevertheless, he was happy to add their ranks to his own.

Infantry and tanks appeared through the portals, assembled in neat formation. As they all gathered, the sky thundered, jets and bombers streaking across the sky. Abbadon had asked specifically for their most devastating weapon to gauge its might.

The scene was comical. A world's most technologically advanced army against one nude, blonde supermodel stunner.

"FIRE!" Abbadon's voice roared.

A hail of bullets streaked toward her, pinging loudly as the little metal projectiles hit her body and bounced off uselessly. Flipping her long blonde mane behind her and letting it spill over her shoulder, she continued her relentless march forward, letting them pepper her voluptuous form with gunfire.

The infantry couldn't believe what they were seeing. Most of them had emptied their first clip and didn't bother to reload, relegated to simply staring at the approaching indestructible force of nature.

Without any concern for his new military, Abbadon ordered his tanks to fire. The infantry scattered backwards, trying to get out of danger close.

Abbadon smiled as the shells detonated near or around their target. She actually stood still as shockwaves of displaced air buffeted her, shrapnel and heat doing their best to damage her. He watched with satisfaction as she actually collapsed to the earth with a grimace on her face.

Halting the attack, Abbadon waited for the dust to clear to confirm his victory. With his enhanced demonic vision, he saw her clearly, miles away, lying on the floor with a grimace on her face as her legs twitched. Her bronze flesh still looked completely unmarked, but perhaps the damage was internal.

Then he saw it. Her fingers were actually massaging her sex, her grimace not one of pain, but of pleasure. He had predicted that it was within the realm of possibility that she would not be harmed, but this was a boon. Now, he could strike when she was most vulnerable. Pleased with his own military genius and tactical prowess, Abbadon immediately ordered another round of tank fire, and she responded immediately with a little coo and a wink in his direction as she continued to fondle herself.

Some of the shells reached their target, exploding on her once again. And then suddenly, all of the others detonated in midair, far from their destination, as a violent shockwave seemed to wash over Abbadon's army, sending tanks flying backwards and killing the infantry from sheer blunt force and friendly fire. Even Abbadon had to brace himself against the sudden sweet-smelling blast, his arm shielding his face as he held his ground.

He saw the girl with a satisfied look on her face. She was on her feet again, licking her lips and fondling her breasts. With a little wiggle of her hips, she mouthed at him more than suggestively, "I came. Boom..." she mocked an explosion with her hands, centered around her intimacy.

Abbadon snarled in anger. This champion seemed to be making a mockery of him! He ordered the bomber to unleash their ultimate weapon. Surely this one would do something. He looked at her and pointed toward the sky, goading her to try and withstand this next attack.

She cocked an eyebrow at him, then looked up. When she saw just how large the falling bomb was, her arrogant attitude was replaced by one of shock. Abbadon smiled in smug satisfaction. She should have taken him more seriously.

The nuclear bomb detonated, its mushroom cloud visible from miles away, extending far into the sky. Its shockwave followed a few seconds later, radiating outward from ground zero. Abbadon crossed his arms imperiously in the wake of the aftermath, expecting to see her at least whimpering.

Instead, an even more powerful shockwave followed out of nowhere, directed entirely at him. A powerful gust of air, strong enough to even dispel a wide swath of the mushroom cloud, rattled his horns and actually knocked him off his feet! Framed by the destruction of this ultimate bomb was the girl, rubbing her nose. She had merely sneezed!

Abbadon climbed to his hooved feet in anger. Clenching his fists, he knew he would have to take matters into his own hands to teach this hussy a lesson.

They were staring each other down now within striking distance of each other. Abbadon's battle lust was at its peak, his body and armor speckled with dirt. Meanwhile, she twirled her golden locks in a single finger, other hand on her generous hips, looking perfectly unsoiled and lovely.

The time had come. She had experienced nothing like his might before. It would give him great satisfaction to put her in her place. He smiled as he imagined her quivering, broken and bloodied, kneeling before him from his vicious attacks. She would beg for his forgiveness for her earlier impudence.

Abbadon drew his sword and hovered one of his claws over the length of its blade, imbuing it with his demonic magic. It emitted a blood red glow, too powerful for any normal being to wield.

"More swords?" she rolled her eyes with a bored air. "Didn't you try an army of that already?"

He responded with action. Rushing at her with incredible speed that belied his large stature, he could see from her lack of reaction that she was not at the same level he was. Throwing technique aside, he put everything he had into his stroke, looking to cleave her pretty head right off that slender neck.

His swing was nearly deflected by a few strands of her hair, but he pushed through it. With a toothy, satisfied grin, he struck that swan-like neck cleanly... only to find himself unable to control the reverberations echoing back through his mystical sword.