Sigrid had served the Demons for some time now. She had woken up long ago in this dark, barren land, and was claimed by them. And since then, she had been thoroughly marked by them. There was no going back to her old life that she barely remembered. They could not send her back, even if they wanted to... and she doubted they ever would want to. So she knew her place, as did every wandering soul who found themselves in the Underworld. They had been given a second chance, a second life, and they would carry that debt forever. And the reward for service... was pleasure of the likes none would ever know in the mortal world.
They were not cruel masters, or at least as cruel as some could be. They did not need humans for labour, they did not find amusement in inflicting true pain on them. Their debauchery set their minds to other designs for the human souls in their charge.
Pleasure, mating, entertainment, torment of a more tantalising kind, and simple decadent service. And in return, they were cared for, fed strange but exotic food, given good quarters, plentiful time to rest - damnation did they need it often - and tender healing when injured.
Sigrid accepted this, for she had a feeling that whatever led her to this realm, was not reversible. And there was no point in fighting her hosts. They were too varied, too strong, the greater demons held power over the minds of lesser beings, human or otherwise. And there was nothing to fight back with.
Those who tried were often 'punished', in the way these demons seemed to enjoy; depravity.
But in truth, Sigrid... did not mind so much her situation. The pleasures she felt, the things she did to achieve them, the feelings that coursed through her... it made her feel alive.
The blonde, however, was feeling nervous; she was being given a great honour this day, but an exceptional task, Sigrid fussing with her hair nervously in an attempt to keep it straight, tugging on her silk wrappings that just barely covered her breasts and crotch.
Her curvaceous figure, tall and pliant, was popular among her many masters and mistresses, and they enjoyed her thighs, rump, and bust in equal measure.
Her blue eyes, however, scanned the massive door adorned with the iron relief of a frightful demon's visage with trepidation. Her angular but feminine face, a fetching beauty even in her prior life from what she could recall showed the same signs of anxiety.
It was not every day one was considered worthy to service and worship one of the greatest demons ever. One of the few Lords that ruled this land, over the Barons and the Arch Demons.
Their size was enormous, and their lust near insatiable, though the latter was true of all demons.
And this one was currently presiding over the Citadel in the heart of the mountain. Keeping it in good order, and enjoying its spoils. He was worthy of praise.
But no human could sate it conventionally. She'd have to get creative.
She steeled herself, swallowing a breath and preparing to meet her greatest challenge.
The doors swung open slowly, groaning loudly and with the weight of more than just their construction, but the might of what laid within.
The room beyond was enormous, and very spacious, though lacking much in the way of decoration, save for pillars supporting the vaulted ceiling hewn from the mountain stone. Two tunnels on either side of the back wall led elsewhere, though where and what they led to was not her business.
Braziers of infernal fire lit the great chamber, hanging from nothing, floating in the air beneath the rocky ceiling.
Sconces for torches kept the floor area illuminated just as well, and glowing demonic runes on the floor provided a scant amount of extra light.
But all of it seemed to direct the attention of any visitor to the centre of the room, where a great stone slab decorated with demonic and human skulls around its base sat, upon which a great iron throne covered in animal and beast hide lay, its arm rests adorned at their fronts with large demonic skulls whose eye sockets blazed with an inner flame, and whose horns glowed with a dull red infernal magic.
The back of the throne was little more than a massive iron slab etched with demonic runes and tipped with spikes, the top of the back edged with studs made of a dark gemstone.
But it was what was seated on the throne that had Sigrid's attention.
It was a massive demon, at least a human or more taller than even the great Barons, its beige skin rippling with steely muscle, its feet cloven hooves that rested lazily on thee floor, each of its thighs so large she did not think she could wrap her arms around completely.
Its meaty arms were not much better, and its claw-like hands could've easily gripped and held her body aloft like a doll... and probably crushed her in its grip like an eggshell.
Its large, yellow eyes watched her, its face halfway between handsome and masculine, and bestially demonic, its nose a set of elongated nostrils on a bony plate that dominated the centre of its face, running up to the top of its skull, where its hide became rough and unruly, and from which its broad, flat horns curled out of, growing first away from its skull, and then sweeping in front of it in broad crescents. The growth was jagged and chipped, giving it an almost rocky appearance.
Stubby tusks grew up from beneath its lower lip, chipped at their tips and rather blunt looking, but still quite clean and healthy.
Its chest was broad, as one could earnestly expect from such a mighty demon, its muscles flexing with every little movement.
Next to the throne, was the Demon Lord's gear, a loose collection of armour on one side, the chest plate facing Sigrid and showing the core built into a glassy dome, crackling with barely tamed energies. She did not know what purpose they served. On the other side, its weapon leaned against the throne; it was a gauntlet of sorts, meant to be worn on one of its arms, the dark iron device imbued with hellish energies, the runes etched on its side glowing with as much ferocity as the core in its armour did. And she could just make out the yellow glow from the openings at the end, from which terrible and destructive blasts of infernal power could be shot, tearing solid rock asunder and obliterating flesh, should he ever need to use it to kill.
But her gaze was invariably drawn to the true purpose of her being here; the enormous cock that stood erect from its crotch, already leaking thick globules of precum.
Two other women were tending to his member already, a short, black-haired lady with a rather petite frame, busy stuffing her face into the massive set of balls that sat on the throne between the Lord's spread thighs, drowning herself in the musk and pheromones that Sigrid knew were all too addicting. On the opposite side was a plump, dark-skinned woman with her hair tied into braids, occupied with grinding her generously endowed chest against the ribbed member, her chocolate globes slick with the Lord's profuse amount of precum. She straddled his thigh, and gently rubbed her crotch against the broad limb.
Sigrid idly wondered if the Demon Lord could fuck anything other than female Barons with that thing, for other Lords were few and far between, and from what little she knew, mating among them was... complicated. And sometimes bloody.
Fortunately, Demon Lords were far less inclined to bring harm to their servants.
