Content warning: This chapter contains magical coercion, public sex, and artistic gender dysphoria/humiliation.
For a brief moment Laurelai was terrified that Lord Bel was referring to her. She had no idea what he would do to her that might qualify as a dessert that they could feast their eyes on, but she was sure that she was always going to be the one to suffer in all his plans. It didn't matter if he ripped off her clothes and flogged her in front of the assembled demons or if he simply bent her over his table and fucked her while she moaned for everyone. All that mattered was that she suffered pain and embarrassment as publicly as possible.
Only it never happened that way. She just kept sitting there with white knuckles at the idea, but instead in the darkness four demons flew slowly into the room, while a magic circle began to glow in the area bounded by the large circular table. The demons looked like three succubi and a very pale incubus, and when they reached the center of the room they stopped flapping their wings almost completely, but continued to hang in mid air, like the laws of nature no longer applied to them.
After that they started to move in slow, exaggerated motions like they were under water, while music started to play somewhere in the shadows. Far from the crude sexual performance she'd been expecting, the show quickly became an erotic work of art as all four performed a weightless ballet in the dim room.
At the beginning of the performance all four of the actors were wearing some sort of clothing, but the succubi quickly shed theirs one at a time, in an obvious attempt to seduce the incubus. It was only during the second attempted seduction that Laurelai realized the demon was supposed to be an angel. As she scrutinized him closer, she quickly corrected that idea. He wasn't supposed to be an angel; he was supposed to be Laurus. The realization made her gasp, but it also made her lean in closer to watch this mockery of her life.
The angel stood up bravely to the first succubus, resisting her whiles while the other two twisted and cavorted behind him, leaving Laurus nowhere to escape to. The second one managed to disarm him, and send his glowing sword twirling off into the darkness. The third one wasn't able to defeat him either, but did succeed in tearing off most of his armor. It was only when they attacked him all together in a final assault that was synchronized to be as erotic as possible that he finally submitted.
After that it became a strange sort of midair orgy, and no matter how much Laurelai hated it, her eyes were glued to it. Worse, between the alcohol she'd tried and the constant state of lust she'd been kept in all day she found herself more than a little jealous of the demonesses and the rapturous looks they were giving the audience as they twisted and writhed in their knot of pleasure. The sight made her ache, and it was only her force of will that kept her from gasping or touching herself. She couldn't hide her arousal though. It was glowing in her lap, and her shredded outfit did nothing to hide the pink glow.
"You can join them you know," Lord Bel said softly enough that few could hear him over the moaning of the succubi.
"Is that an order?" Laurelai retorted, though not as harshly as she'd meant to.
"Not at all. Ordering you and invoking the gaes would ruin my bet with Chimara," he answered smuggly. "You can do whatever you want. If you fly up there to fuck that angel it will be entirely of your own free will."
Laurelai didn't dignify his statement with a reply, but that was mostly because she didn't trust her voice to speak at this point. Before Thraxusius had spoken, she'd fantasized about going up there to join the actors on their perverse stage, but she never considered it a real possibility. Now that he had mentioned it though, she ached to do just that. She didn't care that he'd set the whole thing to mock her, or that it wasn't at all how her fall had really happened. All she cared about was the way his pale dick sliced in and out of the demonic sluts on display and how badly she wished she could take their place.
She didn't have to though. She could just sit here until the show was over and then go back to her garden prison. She could endure this ache for a few more hours until she fell asleep, and then tomorrow there would be a new line of demons ready to ruin her holes until she couldn't stop cumming. Then she wouldn't have to admit anything. Then she wouldn't have to betray her dignity for her desire in front of all these eyes.
Laurelai's mouth went dry though as she realized the flaw in her plan. She'd made the agreement for a day of peace and rest tomorrow. So, if she managed to resist for the rest of the evening she would spend the rest of the day suffering with this awful sensation of need. Suddenly she shot a look of hate at her owner. Had he set this all up so far out? Had he known exactly what she would ask for and grant it to exploit her for this moment, or was it all just a terrible coincidence? If it was the former then Thraxusius Bel was a much more dangerous opponent than she'd feared, and if it was the latter then he had the devil's own luck. Either way she now had a terrible choice to make between her dignity and her sanity. Could she ignore the ache that was already throbbing between her thighs, or should she just give in now and avoid the shame of begging for cock for half a day tomorrow?
In the end it was no choice at all, she decided as she rose to her feet. They could take off her chains, and even dress her up in the finest clothes that hell had to offer, but in the end she'd still be a whore, and Lord Bel knew that. He knew that because he forced her into this body and marked his ownership across her very soul with his crest. She might not be a slave to him yet, but she was well on the way to becoming a slave to her pussy.
