.5: the Devil You Now

+++++Author's Notes+++++

Sex isn't the main focus of this (short) chapter.

It does feature bondage, non-consent, mind control, and non-sexual violence.

And in case it isn't clear, these are the Bad Guys.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*****

The room is dimly lit, its only window heavily curtained. Greta lies in its centre, securely strapped to a padded contraption. Despite certain stereotypes about German porn, the blonde girl is wholly unfamiliar with the contraption; she lies on her stomach against a sort of carpenter's horse, her arms and legs strapped to its four limbs. It's well-padded and she's fairly comfortable, but its unmistakeable purpose is to leave her completely helpless, with her mouth and groin kept immobile at waist height.

She's naked, too.

Kytophon gives the straps one last check and stands up. She is wearing tight black leather that squeaks slightly when she moves, although the dominatrix effect is spoiled slightly by the band of white gold around her throat. Her hair is jet black with dark blue highlights and cut short, with a fringe hanging low enough to shade half her face. "Are you all strapped in there?" she asks.

Greta wiggles for a moment. "Yeah, I can't move at all, Mistress" she replies. Then she shrieks as Kytophon slaps her exposed ass hard.

"You've only got one Mistress here," Kytophon says firmly, "and I'm not Her. She squeezes Greta's reddening ass cheek affectionately, and adds, "We'll be spending plenty of time together, so just call me Kaye."

"Yes, Kaye. I can't move at all."

"Lovely. You should get used to this - you'll spend most of the next week strapped into

something

, and you will generally be much less comfortable than you are now," Kaye tells her, stroking a finger up the blonde girl's spine from her ass. "Does that scare you at all?"

"Not really."

"Why not?"

"Because She told me to obey and trust you completely until I had answered all your questions," Greta says as if explaining something obvious.

"Of course She did," Kaye shakes her head. "How boring. I much prefer it when honest answers require... persuasion." She walks over to a shelf on the wall behind Greta and peruses its contents, speaking to the blonde without looking. "Well, let's begin. What is your full name?"

"Greta Bittinger."

"You're a tourist, right? German?"

Greta, relaxing into her bonds, answers as fully as she can. "Yes, although I'm here on a student visa. I'm backpacking my way west, but I spent last month as a bartender to make some extra cash."

"Interesting. How old are you?"

"19."

"Beautiful," Kytophon sighs, her eyes closed. "You have no idea how valuable you are, Greta."

"I... suppose not?"

"Our Mistress requires virgins as vessels, you see. The ritual she is attempting is quite taxing, even for one of her power, so all the vessels must be made properly sympathetic to the demons being summoned." Greta gasps as Kaye, kneeling down behind her, runs feather-gentle fingers up and down her newly-shaven labia. "In other words, a demon finds it far easier to possess a woman... if that woman's virginity was taken by a similar demon."

Greta moans as unfamiliar feelings tingle through her womanhood. "I'm... I don't..."

Kytophon spreads her pussy lips gently, her warm breath tickling the girl's insides. "You've lost your hymen at some point - sad - but the arcane symbolism remains. It's very rare to find 19-year-old virginal tourists, Greta."

"Mnn... I had a boyfriend in Gymnasium - uh, high school - but I only let him... I wasn't ready for..."

"I can tell." Kaye's mouth is an inch away from the girl's flesh, but her self-control is total. "Don't worry. When I'm finished with you, you won't even remember his name." She finally releases the girl and stands up again. "Your English is very good, by the way."

"Thanks," Greta says, relaxing a little. The frightening arousal recedes, but only a little. "Um... I trust you, Kaye - obviously - but I don't really know what you mean by all this stuff about... demons."

Kytophon gets something off the shelf on the wall. "Don't worry about me, just focus on answering my questions. When did you first see your new Mistress?"

Greta looks very distracted by the thought. "Three days ago, at the airport. I was waiting for a bus west, and Her limo pulled up to the curb."

"Tell me what happened."

"Nothing, really - oh, everything, because She was there and She spoke to me, but it's not really a story." Greta hesitates for a moment, goosebumps running down her back, as the dominatrix comes back to stand over her. "I was waiting around with a couple of friends from the herberge - the hostel - who were going the same way, and when the limo pulled up She rolled down her window and called me over. I went over, obviously, and She gave me my first instructions, and that was it. She drove off."

With the end of her story, Greta giggles nervously as something warm and slippery - Kaye's finger - runs down her tailbone and over the dark nexus of her ass. Then she shrieks as the dominatrix presses harder. "Wh - what..."

"It's lubed, don't worry about it."

"Is this, what you were saying about der teufel - demons? My virginity?"

"Oh, no, this is just for fun. Taking your virginity, in the mystical sense, will require a very specific sort of penetration." Kaye twists her finger, making the blonde hiss. "Now, what did you do over the next three days?"

Trust, confusion, and arousal compete in Greta's mind as the other woman's finger pushes into her. She's never been penetrated there before, and she's acutely aware of her sphincter expanding around the intruder, the strange sensation of fullness."I, uh... I followed Her commands. To the best of my abilities."

"Of course you did."

"Well, first I left the bus station. I had to tell the friends I was waiting with that I was staying here in the city for a few more weeks. And I had to call my parents and convince them that I was fine staying overseas for another few months, that I'd found a good job and a roommate. I can't remember exactly what I told them - ah!"

Kytophon presses at Greta's rosebud with a second finger, but the virgin girl's ass is simply too tight. "It's okay, Greta, you can trust me. Your parents won't worry when you don't call?"

"They, uh, ahh, verdammt... They'll worry, but they think they know what's... they won't, ahh, won't come and try to find me. Not for months." The girl sags in relief when Kaye removes her fingers, then twitches when the dominatrix begins to rub at her clit. After a moment, the brunette bends down and runs her tongue in circles around the funnel of her ass.

"You taste delicious," Kaye says, raising wine-red lips for a moment. "What did you do next?"

Greta shudders at the unfamiliar sensations, but soon she's surrendering to the other woman's attentions. Her Mistress told her to trust and submit, and doing so feels... good. "I had to cover my tracks. All the people I'd met in this country, and a few close friends back in Germany... I had to call them and tell them whatever they needed to hear to not worry about me. I never knew I could lie like that, and I ran through so much credit. Spent most of my money recharging my phone. Then I went back to the hostel and spent a couple of hours in the bathroom... shaving."

"I can tell," Kaye says with a slurp. "So smooth. Beautiful."

"I'd never done it before, but She told me to, right? Then I got rid of my phone, my laptop, took out the batteries and smashed them and threw them in a, ah, a müllcontainer. I burned my passport."

Then Greta stops speaking, because Kaye's tongue is moving with such sinuous strength and her whole body tingles with unfamiliar pleasure and she writhes against her unyielding bonds. All the while the woman's fingers strum her clit like a Stradivarius. Her pleasure runs towards a peak, towards the strangest orgasm she's yet had in her relatively sexless life, and just before she comes Kaye withdraws her supernaturally skilful tongue and asks one more question.

"What did you do next?"

Greta pants, sweat dripping down her forehead. With what little mobility she has, she lifts her ass cheeks up. "I... I... I caught a bus here. I came to Her mansion, and I was shown in to you." She hesitates for a moment. "Are those all the questions?"

Kytophon grins, pale teeth glistening. "Yes, my dear vessel. You've answered all my questions and satisfied Her commands. You're free."

Greta isn't sure what Kaye puts in her ass at the end, but it makes her belly shake when she comes. The orgasm is a release in more ways than one.

***

Kytophon listens to the girl's breathing.

It's admirably calm, all things considered. Greta had come down from the orgasm swiftly - new and strange as it was, it had been only the briefest touch of pleasure compared to what was coming - and now she fights to maintain a stoic appearance. It's futile, though. Kytophon hears more than any mortal ever could, and Greta's heart is racing like a rabbit from a hawk.

Smart rabbit.

Kytophon goes back over to the wall and picks up a slim black crop, twirling it in her fingers like a conductor's baton. "How do you feel now that you no longer trust and obey me, Greta?"

The blonde girl subtly tests her bonds, finds them unyielding, and makes an involuntary noise in the back of her throat.

"Confused? Trapped? Terrified?" Kytophon walks around and crouches down in front of the blonde girl's immobilized face with a squeak of leather. She smiles, pearlescent teeth and a single eye gleaming from beneath her fringe. "I almost wish I served the House of Despair right now. The fear you're releasing smells... intriguing."

Greta found her voice, weak and tremulous. "Bitte, mein gotte, bitte - P-please. Please, just let me go."

"Let you go?" Kaye frowns. "Don't be ungrateful, Greta. Didn't that orgasm feel good, just then?" She stands and walks around behind the girl, looking down at her exposed rump. Her pussy is slightly pink and freshly shaved, completely exposed. She runs the tip of the crop along it tenderly, making Greta wriggle. "Doesn't that feel good?" Kytophon asks, stroking up over the blonde's clitoral hood with the dexterity of a surgeon.

Greta doesn't say anything, but her heart rate screams her answer.

Kaye teases her labia a little more with the crop, almost gently enough to tickle, before lifting it away teasingly. "I'm going to make you feel better than you can believe," she whispers to the girl.

Then she slaps the crop hard across Greta's exposed mound.

The blonde girl shrieks, calms herself, and starts desperately pleading in German as Kaye watches her pussy redden with a connoisseur's eye. The welt is clear and bright on virgin flesh. So beautiful.

"And I'm going to hurt you worse than you can imagine," she says, and adds another five marks.

Greta's screams dance in her ears. They're actually too compelling; Kytophon could lose herself in the music of her cries, and she needs to remain detached for the next few days. Sex is mostly instinct, but sexual torture, spiritual breaking and ritual preparation require a certain amount of concentration. She kneels down once more in front of Greta's face, running the crop's tip gently down the girl's cheek.

"Sshh, shh," she whispers, and kisses her. Greta moans softly in fear, then her blue eyes open wide. Kytophon's lips turn black. After a moment, so do Greta's.

When the kiss ends, the German is yelling and crying frantically, but no sound emerges from her blackened lips, nor any light. Her mouth is filled with silent shadows.

Kaye places a couple of fingers against Greta's throat so she can at least feel her desperate cries vibrating. The girl's eyes are so blue and wide, helplessly locked on the dominatrix's face. "You're going to be mine," Kaye tells her softly, "and you're going to be Hers. And then, when She wills it, won't even be you anymore." She brushes a finger over the girl's cursed lips. "I can't wait."

She has to, though, when the door bursts open.

"Ma'am!" The man bows reflexively at the sight of Kaye, but his voice is forceful with fear. He's an older, soft-edged man, dressed in a pale robe marked with strange symbols. His throat is leather-bound in a collar, studded with white gold. "Ma'am, we need you! The summoning - "

"What happened?"

"The vessel, she - " The robed man looks down the corridor his her right and cuts himself off with a strangled cry.

Through the doorway, someone else steps into view. "Told you I'd catch up," a little girl says, reaching for the man's hand as she opens her mouth.

He screams as he catches fire. Greta tries to scream too, but Kytophon's curse traps her terror inside her.

The dominatrix gives a long-suffering sigh and waits until the little girl finishes eating. Once the hallway is quiet again, she nods to the child casually. "Chelor."

The girl closes her mouth and swallows. The process takes too long. Finally, she steps into the room with Greta and Kytophon and waves. "Hi, Kytophon! I haven't seen you bound and incarnate since Solomon."

Greta's eyes bug as the little girl steps within a dozen paces of them. In some ways, Chelor could be any happy, healthy third-grader in the country. Her cheeky smile, dimpled cheeks and diminutive proportions fit, as does the striped and starched dress that could be a private school's uniform. Except the stripes of the dress are actually chains of script that make Greta's head hurt to read, and the lines of text continue off the cloth and fuse into the little girl's skin.

"Well," Kytophon says, "our current Mistress is very special."

"I should hope so; the boy who tried to bind me was barely even a snack," Chelor says, rubbing her belly. Acid-green flames are visible behind her lips.

The little girl is burning up everywhere with the same poisonous neon fire. She's left ashen footprints in the corridor outside, and the carpet where she stands now is already smouldering. Her girlish curls trail off into streamers of acrid smoke, as do the tips of her pointed ears and the hem of her swaying dress. Pollution-green light leaks from her mouth, and the twisting bull's horns that thrust up from her head are cracked and smouldering like they're filled with magma.

The two demons stare at each other for a second. Greta wonders whether she's going to piss herself.

"This is all a bit messy, isn't it?" Kaye says. "Splashing your power everywhere like this, eating my co-workers."

Chelor sucks a lick of flame back between her lips and blushes girlishly. "Oh, don't judge me. They didn't finish the binding so I can't last long up here anyway. I might as well eat while the buffet's open."

Kytophon folds her arms and leans casually atop Greta; the blonde girl's lungs empty under her weight. "This doesn't have to be a dine and dash, though. Our Mistress will be home soon; you should talk to her. She could bind you, secure you to the Fundament for as long as you'd like."

Chelor giggles. "How stupid do you think I am? I've seen your setup down in the basement. Your Mistress is ambitious - probably too ambitious. She's going to get herself, and anyone who serves her, killed."

"If you'd just listen to her offer - "

"Really, Kytophon, I don't wanna," the little girl says. She glances over Greta's prostrate body, still being used as seating, and rubs her belly again. "Hungry, though."

Kaye notices her looking and doesn't move an inch. "Could you at least tell me how you broke the bindings?"

"It was that stupid summoner again, the apprentice. He used the Fifth Seal of Geburah Unyielding, but his incantation was from the Crow Daughter's translation of the Book of Nod. Feminine pronouns, you know." Chelor trails off and her stomach growls. The sound is loud enough to shake Kaye's fringe. "So... are you gonna let me eat her?"

"This one?" the dominatrix asks, stroking Greta's hair idly. The blonde is crying. "I'm afraid not. She's a vessel, we need her."

"For your Mistress's ambitious plans?"

"Exactly. Maybe you could go find another meal somewhere else?"

Chelor pouts. "But I'm hungry

now

." Indeed, the hem of her striped dress is starting to flare up.

Kaye shakes her head. "She's not yours to eat."

"But I wanna!" the girl whines.

"Tell you what," Kaye says, spreading her legs. "You've got a mortal host now, you've picked up a few sins other than those of House Asharu. What about Lust?"

Chelor frowns. "What do you mean?"

Kaye hops off Greta's back and steps towards the other demon, leather-wrapped hips swaying. Her voice is seductive. "Hunger will always be with you, Chelor. But your new body has other needs - desires you can't comprehend without it." Patches of the dominatrix outfit are coming away in wafts of illusory smoke, revealing tantalizingly toned flesh. Kaye walks close. "Don't you want to know how nice it feels to

experiment

?"

The black-haired demon looms over the smaller one, all tight curves and teasing smiles. The little girl considers the offer for a moment before frowning.

"Nah," Chelor says, "that's icky."

Kytophon growls and shadows start to rush in from the corners of the room, inky strands of blackness crawling like hands over her, changing her form.

Then a ball of acid-green fire blasts her through the wall.

Chelor tosses a couple more fireballs through the hole before she's satisfied that Kytophon won't bother her anymore. She puts still-smouldering hands on her hips and harrumphs at Greta.

"Succubi, right? Only one thing on their minds." She gestures at her schoolgirl dress, which is wriggling over and into her skin like a thousand starched-cotton worms. "I mean, look at me. Do I look ready for the

grown-up

sins yet?"

The bound girl can't respond, but a bit of urine is trickling down the side of the hobby horse she's strapped to.

Chelor coos as she approaches, leaving burning carpet in her wake. "Oh, don't look so worried. My spell's ontology's collapsing, so I don't have time to savour my food. This'll be quick, I promise."

With the demon's acrid smoke filling the room, Greta can barely breathe. The taste is on her tongue, and it's like vomit, all acid and bitter reflux.

Chelor bends down in front of Greta's face just as the other demon did a few minutes ago, radiating heat and light. This close, Greta can see the shapes of the fire in the demon's mouth; a tongue of flame, blazing teeth, a mouthful of inferno.

"Open wide!" Chelor sings happily. "Wait, no, that should be your line. Oh well." And she leans forward towards Greta's lips, and the blonde girl finally closes her eyes.

***

She opens them again when the heat moves away from her face.

Chelor has leaned back a little and is looking towards the doorway in disappointment. "Oh, come

on

!" she says petulantly. "Can't a girl just get something to eat in peace - "

A bronze fist hits her in the kisser like a mouthful of wasabi sauce.

The little demon flies into Kytophon's wall of sex toys hard enough to crack the shelving. Before she can fall to the ground, an immense bronze form has grabbed her by the horns. Green heat chars his metal fingers and she starts to build a fireball, but he slams her into the floor twice before hurling her through the air again.

The demons pass out of Greta's line of sight. She closes her eyes and tries not to hear the crashing and crunching from behind her. It goes on, it seems, for far longer than necessary.

Finally, silence. Then thudding, heavy footsteps as the bronze creature walks back to Greta.

"You pissed yourself," it says with a voice like a foghorn.

The third demon has trouble standing upright in this room. His shoulders are as wide as a car, and he must weigh about the same; most of his body is dirty brass, but his bowed head is a bull's skull of bare bone and stripped, bloody flesh.