Author's note: This is my first work of Erotic fiction, based off a roleplay in the Literotica forums. The prince is the Sole Property of KittenofDeath and is used with his blessing. Feedback is appreciated, flames cheerfully ignored. There will be more of Valya soon, but only if it is asked for. I apologize for any rough spots, like I said, this is my maiden voyage, so to speak. You always remember your first...
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Valya Cachtice paced like a caged animal along the walls of her small cell in the slave quarters, her lithe, nude form sliding gracefully through myriad small shifts of body structure, skin tone and hair color. She was new here, and apparently the ones who had dragged her to this castle, daemons rot their souls, hadn't gotten around to even providing her with the quarters usually assigned a slave. She had a pallet in one corner, but that was effectively it for furnishings.
No food had been brought in the few days she'd been cloistered here either. This was not the end of the world, since being half-daemon meant she could go quite a while without sustenance, but she was a succubus, and being starved and celibate at the same time was NOT fun. But she wasn't sure what to do about it. She could hear a guard patrolling the halls outside, but her door was solid, so she didn't have line-of-sight into the hallway. She could hear screams, and moans, and piteous gibbering, interspersed with shouts and commands and the sounds of leather on flesh, so she guessed she was in the dungeons. There had to be a reason she was down here.
She was a slave now, that much had been made clear. What hadn't been clarified was what her duties would be, or how to go about them, or even who's thrice-damned castle this was! She had a pretty good idea what they wanted with her, though. She was half-succubus, beautiful, and capable of an astonishing number of variations in her form. That screamed "joygirl" or "pleasure slave" or "concubine" or any other of the popular euphemisms for "whore." She was no stranger to sex, and enjoyed it more than most, but being imprisoned and enslaved for it was new. Still, it was better than the only alternative reason for why she had been taken. Even a half-breed daemon represented an awful lot of power, and she feared that if she wasn't being held for sex, then she would be used in some terrible ritual, or ritually bound, or sacrificed in a dark and terrible ceremony.
She hoped that her jailers would come soon, if only to break the monotony. Maybe then she could get a better grasp on the situation...
Hours passed before anything happened, but eventually, Valya heard footsteps in the hallway, pausing before the door to her cell. Valya looked up as the port in the door was pulled open, letting in the torchlight. After so long in the utter darkness, even the weak light was almost painful and her eyes had trouble adjusting, so she let their vision slide into partially into the infrared. What she could see was little better than a silhouette with color highlights, but she could make out long black hair and vibrantly purple bangs framing a pale, fine-boned face. Her heat vision told her that this woman's body was heated like a furnace, and that meant that whoever she was, she had a vastly accelerated metabolism of some sort. Whatever the cause, it was causing her to glow like a lamp to Valya's eyes.
"Here," said a voice, and a slot further down the door, almost at the floor, slid open and a tray of food was pushed through. The voice was beautiful, especially after days with no sound but the pathetic mewlings of the other captives for company.
"I...thank you." Valya's normally strong, high soprano sounded rusty and faltering. She hadn't spoken a word since they threw her in here, and the language spoken here was not Valya's own. She had a good grasp of it, but it wasn't her native tongue (which would dislocate the jaw of any normal human trying to approximate it) and it would take time for her to remember all of the linguistic nuances.
Valya let her form stop shifting, settling for now on a pale, slender girl approximately five-foot-two with ash-blonde hair, a sensuous mouth, and bright blue eyes. This form was calculated to seem young, innocent, fragile, and pretty without having the lush curves that might exacerbate the lust of any who looked upon her. In short, it looked like it wanted to be protected, a badly frightened sixteen-year old girl who just wanted someone to hold her.
As she stepped over and retrieved the tray, Valya tried to put just the right quaver into her voice as she asked, "Who are you? What is this place? And what are they planning to do with me? Please, I don't know what I did, and I just want to go home..."
G looked at the woman with something that was almost sympathy, but not quite. She slid a cup of water under the door, too and answered, "My name is G. This is Daemour Castle, domicile and stronghold of The Prince. I, like you, am a servant and a slave. To be honest, I have no idea what they have intended for you. I imagine you will find out soon enough though."
She looked at the petite woman more closely. Curiosity led her to ask "Why does your form change so much?" Her cat-like night vision allowed her to see the woman in detail even though the lighting in the dungeons was terrible.
Valya was wrongfooted by the question, but then, most never saw her shift, or they knew her nature already. She had forgotten mortals didn't have any way of telling, and that simple mistake had caused her to reveal one of her most potent secrets. Still, as long as G already knew, there was probably no harm in telling her why and how. Besides, the tone of her voice, non-threatening and filled with a simple, non-sexual, non-threatening curiosity struck a chord in Valya.
"Please don't tell anyone!" Valya begged. Her voice began to quaver as the enormity of what the knowledge of her powers could cause her captors to do sunk in. "Please! I'm not dangerous. Its just...something I can do. I'm not human, not completely. Its just something I was born with." This was not entirely true. She was dangerous, being faster and stronger than a human, and a modestly accomplished sorceress back in her own infernal home. Though gods alone knew what would happen if she tried demonic magic here.
Valya stopped and took a deep breath and let it out slowly, knowing that what she was about to say might frighten this woman away, but she had to give her the whole truth. Maybe then she wouldn't go running to this "Prince" and possibly get Valya horribly killed.
