CHAPTER 1
In the late twenty-second century mankind made a startling discovery. Angels and Demons were real. Not myths and legends but two ancient alien races, at war with each other since the earliest recordings of either race. Whereas their eternal battle had once only occasionally brought the two races to Earth, the destruction of each of their respective home worlds by the other race had now left both desperate for a new home. Earth and it's numerous colonies seemed like the natural choice for both. Desperate for resources, they both descended on the unsuspecting human worlds. However, in the decades since their war had last scarred Earth humanity had united. No longer divided, bickering states, the Order of Humanity had risen to govern them all. Battles stretched on for months, and what at first seemed like an easy conquest for whoever reached it first was now a desperate retreat. Eventually the two bitter enemies even joined forces. But as resources dwindled the starving, beaten armies of Angel and Demon - kind were finally forced to surrender and submit to whatever treatment the Order deemed fit.
But rather than destroying those who had once aimed to destroy them, the Order showed compassion. Colonies were set up all across the human dominion for Angels and Demons to call home. And at a result a lasting peace was established that endures to this day."
18 year-old Chloe lowered her report and looked around the room at the many board faces of her fellow classmates. Writing a report on the Angel/Demon war was a required part of her graduating class' curriculum.
She quietly walked back to her seat and pretended to listen as the rest of her classmates read their reports. In reality, she was far more concerned with trying to manage the tiny plaid uniform skirt that the Institute of Non-human Education forced demon succubuses and temptresses to wear. It was barely six inches of fabric and it was all she could do to keep from showing off her bright white panties underneath. Mr. Brunswick, her human teacher was always staring and grabbing at her practically naked ass in the hallways. Her tight white button-down shirt wasn't much better. It's buttons strained every single day to contain her large and very sensitive breasts. The only part of the 'uniform' that she liked at all were the 4" heels. From day one, she seemed to instinctively know how to walk in them. Unlike the rest of her outfit, they seemed classy and sophisticated.
Mr. Brunswick yawned loudly, and settled his chin into his palm. Class was almost over. And as much as she hated coming to this place, she hated even more having to leave it and go home. Her father was a Brute, not exactly the best parenting material. On a good she'd only get stared at contemptuously as she did her chores and hurried to her room. Other days she'd have to listen to his drunken ramblings about the war, inevitably get blamed for something, and go to bed sore from a beating.
She looked up at the clock over the door. Just a few minutes left. They ticked away entirely too fast. And then the bell rang, interrupting the last report recital and waking Mr. Brunswick. She suppressed a giggle as his head slipped from his palm and nearly hit the desk. Then she gathered up her purse and began shuffling out of the classroom with the rest of the students. Midway out the door she suddenly felt a sharp tug on her long, whip-like tail. She yelped as she was pulled back into the classroom.
"Ms. Chloe, a word please."
"Yes, Mr. Brunswick?" she said, turning to face him.
He held onto her tail for an uncomfortable extra moment, letting it slide from his hand rather than simply letting go. He adjusted his glasses and waited until the last of students were gone. Then he cleared his throat.
"You know, I watch you every day, Ms. Chloe. I see how miserable you are to go home. I've seen the bruises," he said, stepping deep into her personal space and putting a clammy hand on her shoulder.
She gulped. "I appreciate your concern, Mr. Brunswick but I- it's-"
"You know, you don't have to go back to that place," he said, placing a hand on her other shoulder. "I could always put you up in my place for a little while."
"That's very generous of you, sir," she said, cringing beneath her touch. "But I-"
"It's alright. I'm your teacher. I'm only here because I care about you. I'm sure we can come up with some way for you to earn your keep. ...A few chores here and there," he said, running a hand down the front of her shirt and undoing her top button.
She immediately jumped away.
"Oh, stop pretending. I see the way you look at me. Your kind can't help yourselves!" he said, taking another step towards her.
"I really need to be going, sir. I have chores to do," she said, ducking as he reached for her again and racing out the door.
She could still hear him laughing all the way down the hall as she left the building. Outside, she pressed her back to one of the building's brick walls and took a deep breath, buttoning her shirt back up. It was never ending with him. And now she would be late getting home, too. That was sure to mean a beating. I seemed no matter what she did in this life she couldn't win.
She hurried along down the windswept path that lead back into her settlement. Calling it a settlement was an overwhelming exaggeration. Tents, ramshackle houses, and a few crumbling freestanding structures, it was a shanty town. Other temptresses lined street corners, offering themselves to anyone who had the money to afford their 'services'. Imps scurried here an there, snatching up whatever scraps they could. Overhead a lone succubus flapped her wings, gliding east towards one of the red-light districts.
Being a former Demon Lord during the war, her father had one of the nicer hovels in town. She ducked under a ragged blue tarp and quietly eased the front door open.
"You're late again!" a deep brooding voice bellowed.
"I'm sorry sir," she said, closing the door behind her.
Her father, with his glowing red eyes and long jagged horns, was the perfect visage of a demon. His hands were almost as big as his head, perfect for crushing skulls and smashing ribs. He was truly an intimidating sight to behold. Currently he lounged half drunkenly in his chair in the corner, bottle ever at his side. An old, cracked television provided the majority of the light in the room.
"Is that all you have to say for yourself, whelp? I feed you and clothe you and all you do is eat it up and waste your time with friends! Back before the humans stole our dignity, you would already be out earning your keep," he said, disgustedly and took another gulp from his bottle.
She'd heard the same lecture a hundred times before. But she didn't dare tell him about Mr. Brunswick. He'd only accuse her of bringing it on herself and then beat her twice as brutally for it.
"There was a test and it lasted past the-," she began.
"Lies!" he accused and threw his bottle to the ground.
It shattered loudly, scattering glass across the already filthy floor. Hot, steaming spittle dripped down his chin. He stood up, stooping over as his horns grazed the ceiling.
"Lie to me again, daughter," he dared her.
"I'm sorry. Kelly, asked me to walk home with her. I didn't think it would take so long," she said, hoping that if she told him what he wanted to hear that it would appease him.
"Remind me why I let you live here," he said, coming to within inches of her face.
