Argunthal's first breath was tainted with the metallic odor of blood and the dull reek of dirt. Wrinkling his nose in disgust, he forced his eyes open, receiving a dim, blurred view of stone walls and a female figure. As his mind and vision came into focus, a rush of panic hit. Where the hell was he? How did a village blacksmith get here?
"Look what finally woke up. Thought you were dead for a while. Oh, don't bother trying to move, those aren't going anywhere."
This last comment was directed at Argunthal's testing of the rusty chains that bound his wrists to the wall, arms held above his head in an unforgiving metallic grip.
"What did you do to me?"
The woman, whom he could now see to have dark hair, and oddly reddish skin under her angular, black armor, simply smirked in response.
"My superiors need labor for the mine here, and maybe some other things. That's you, human. Assuming you don't just die, that happens often enough as well."
This was not exactly the answer he was hoping for. In fact, it was essentially the opposite.
"Let me go, and I won't kill you. Promise."
The maddening smirk gave way to a low laugh. Putting a hand on her hip and slightly shifting her weight to one leg, the demon jailer replied,
"Even if you somehow managed to break out of those, you'd be the dead one. Ever wonder how hell got its reputation? Can't imagine you want to find out. Besides, I'd advise being a good little human if you feel like eating this lifetime."
The demon had now crossed over from an irritant to simply an enemy. Argunthal grunted, anger pounding blood faster through his veins. Staring defiantly at the jailor, he began to pit his arm against the rusty manacle.
Raising an eyebrow that, on close inspection, was composed of tiny, horn-like bumps instead of hair, the demon laughed again.
"I've been in this body for three hundred years, and most of them down here. I've never seen anybody, human or otherwise, get through that chain."
She hesitated for a moment, looking him over, and then continued,
"Yeah, sure, you're a big one, but that's thick metal. Trust me, you'll want that arm for the mines later. Don't wear it out here."
The only response she got was a somewhat deeper breath, followed by a faint but audible creak of metal. Argunthal grinned a little, flexing harder against the chain. He looked up, taking in the full sight of the soon-to-be-dead demon. What he saw was unlike any human woman he'd ever encountered. Her strange, red skin was like a sheath over her slim but powerful muscles, which disappeared into a breastplate, plateskirt and gauntlets made of a strange black metal, twisting at bizarre angles into a deadly-looking shell. She didn't bother with boots, which made sense, seeing as her legs ended in claws that would be more at home on a dragon than a human. While those were certainly shocking, they weren't as much so as the dark, nearly black horns that began just above her temples, curving back until they seemed to point forward again, towards her midnight black lips.
"Turned on, human? It's fairly obvious," she dryly remarked, gesturing to a member that was now a bit less than flaccid.
"Nothing personal, but no way in hell. Or up here, either. Succubi are way more fun than any cock I've met in three centuries, and I'm not exactly looking to get the free trial from some miner the patrol grabbed."
Ignoring the damnably taunting, seductive tone of her voice, Argunthal continued to strain against the manacle, flattening his back against the wall as the links began to bend under the pressure. He openly smiled in triumph. This was going to be fun.
Beginning to show a bit of interest, the demon stepped a bit closer, re-appraising his musculature. While her face still didn't show much besides disdain, an undertone of curiosity was emerging.
"Keep back, hell-bitch. If this chain breaks, and I assure you it will eventually, you are beyond fucked. Hear me?" he grunted between breaths.
"Hell-bitch, hmm? Clever, aren't we? That's Zalana to you. Mistress Zalana, actually." She was clearly attempting to sound haughty, and she succeeded to an extent, but there was definitely something else there now.
A tooth-shuddering squeal of iron echoed through the stone room, bringing a shocked look to Zalana's demonic face.
"Alright, Salon-a, or whatever the fuck that was, your choice here. Run like hell, and you might get away. Let me out, and I won't kill you. Or, my favorite, stick around and see what happens when you go around capturing slaves for whatever you said this was."
She didn't bother trying to hide it anymore, she wanted something. Zalana was close enough now that Argunthal could feel her breath, far hotter than that of a normal human. He knew she was there, but kept pulling on the chain that still bound his left wrist. Or at least he kept pulling until she began to speak, in a sultry tone that was nearly impossible to ignore.
"Most male demons couldn't break that thing. That means you have something they don't. Something I want."
She paused for a moment, letting the significance of her words sink in before continuing.
"Remember what I said about the succubi? Well, there haven't been any assigned down here for quite some time. Nothing but imp-cock around, and that's not exactly appealing."
Right about there she reached out a claw-tipped finger, running it down the mass of his ribcage, just lightly enough not to draw blood. She leaned in even closer, dropping her hypnotic voice to an irresistible, enticing whisper.
"You know you want to give it to me."
Damn it, she was right. Argunthal stopped mid-pull, involuntarily shivering at the thought of penetrating the demon. Grimacing, he shook his head, trying to stop the strange new thoughts.
