The Temptress Ch. 05

When she arrived at the main, circular staircase, the demoness again called on her extra means of mobility and ascended through the central part of the gigantic keep as easily as if she were crossing a room. Shortly, L'tirashin arrived at the main audience chamber. As she landed, she saw guards on duty here as well, barring entrance to any who got this far and dared to try and venture further. But L'tirashin knew they would not challenge her passage, especially since all twenty of them were wearing armor similar to hers. As their fellows saluted L'tirashin, the two sentinels nearest the gigantic doors pushed them open for their leader then closed them directly behind her.

The vast chamber beyond the portals was much like her own, though on a larger scale. But there was one marked contrast between the two strongholds; whereas L'tirashin kept hers unnaturally warm, her master's was maintained in perpetual cold. The demoness's every breath hung in the air for a few moments before being swallowed by the icy air. L'tirashin was more than a little appreciative for some of the minor enchantments woven into her armor.

As she headed toward the dais, the demoness walked along the two long lines of servants who were standing at an angle on either side of their master. Among the slaves, L'tirashin saw a few faces she recognized but most were unfamiliar to her. It was not surprising that many of them had a humanoid form and appearance and most of them probably still resembled what they looked like during their mortal lives.

For the most part.

Invariably, the Abyss had also left its indelible mark upon them, forever branding them as one of its own. Darkly pigmented skin was turned coal black and fair skin appeared almost transparent; pointed ears became even further elongated as did tusks and horns. The twists the Everdark stamped on each soul was as unique as the individual, with no two ever seeming to be exactly the same as the last.

But the Temptress paid them no heed, as was their due---just as those of higher status had done with her when she had been bound thus. In her mind, the slaves present were nothing more than decorations, statues made of Abyssal flesh.

L'tirashin bowed her head as she knelt on one knee before her master.

"Ssso," came a raspy, hissing voice as it echoed throughout the immense chamber, "my ssservant finally returnsss. . .though it isss becaussse her massster hasss sssummoned her!" The demon's disciple was silent. "Well?! Have you nothing to sssay? I know you've a sssharp tongue in your mouth and are rarely afraid to unleasssh it, ssso ssspeak!!"

L'tirashin lifted her head just enough to see the one who commanded her. Sitting on a throne that looked as if had been grown instead of carefully crafted was a white skinned, well-muscled man who appeared to be as much a part of his regal seat as his arm was a part of him. His legs were cocooned in what seemed to be dull brown armor, lacking a finish. Covering his groin and manhood (demonhood?) was an armored codpiece. Claw-like fingers around his upper thighs and waist---and one around his throat---seemed to be what were holding the demon lord against his throne. Atop his head was a skullcap comprised of what looked to be extremely long, brown fingers, two of which reached to just under his jaw. The demon's eyes were filled with a bright, sickly yellow glow that were, at that moment, narrowed at L'tirahsin. Absentmindedly, his right hand stroked his codpiece while his left reached up and caressed part of his throne.

"I beg my master's forbearance of my inexcusable lack of contact and intolerably lengthy stay on---"

"Ceassse with your ssself-debasssement and ssspeak plain!" L'tirashin's master roared at her. "By the time you're through prattling, the universsse will have been long sssinccce dead."

"As my master commands," L'tirashin said as her head dipped low before resuming her report. "Tiaceor is a most unique world, master; a world worthy of a careful and detailed study---especially because how magic works there."

"And how is that?" he asked with a mixed note of irritation and casual interest.

"There is a definite connection between the casting of spells and sex."

"Go on. . ." the demon prompted.

L'tirashin knew she had her master's attention. His words gave away nothing but his tone and the brief glimmer of interest in his glowing eyes said otherwise. Emboldened, she got to her feet slowly. As she did, L'tirashin explained:

"For some reason, which is still unknown to even their most learned sages, the casting of any spell, whether wizardly or priestly, causes the caster to experience an almost over-whelming desire to engage in some kind of sexual activity. The more potent the spell, the greater the urge. Some enchantments even have sex, to one degree or another, as part of the casting requirements. This unique link could easily be exploited to our advantage. By tempting the mortals of Tiaceor through their basest desires could prove to be a more effective and efficient means of conquering that world than the use of many legions of troops."

As the demon contemplated his servant's words, a wet squelching noise could be heard coming from the throne. Suspended by the tentacles connecting the skullcap to the throne, as well as the one attached to his groin and a second probing his fundament, the white-skinned man rose from the chair and floated toward L'tirashin.

"We will continue thisss conversssation in private," he said quietly. A groan mixed with equal amounts of pleasure and despair escaped the man's mouth and the glow in his eyes faded away, revealing a rather ordinary pair of green orbs. The fingers comprising the skullcap released their hold on his head at the same time the tentacles retracted from his anus and groin before the man was tossed aside like a useless puppet, his naked body landing with a thud against the cold floor and spiraling a dozen feet toward the main doors. The long appendages retracted toward the throne until they were back in their respective spots.

"Leave usss," hissed a voice coming from nowhere. "All of you!!"

The three score vassals in attendance quickly scurried toward the concealed servant exits, none of them desirous of being punished for taking too long over their departure. Two of the white-skinned man's fellows swiftly hefted him between them as they retreated from their master's chamber, despite the dazed man's mumbled protestations as to their actions.

For a few moments, the chamber appeared to be empty except for L'tirashin's presence.

But appearances often lie.

All at once, the throne came to life. Things that had appeared to be decorative, though horrific, protrusions suddenly started moving and flexing themselves. The besprent squishing noise grew louder and, somehow, wetter as the throne began to twist back and forth while finger-thick tendrils writhed and probed all around the spot where an occupant could find repose. Four feet above the seat---and situated in a circle---five eyes opened, each glowing with a sickly blue radiance. With more wet noises, each ocular organ was extended on a stalk about a foot long, where they started to twist slightly to and fro, taking in the immediate surroundings. That which had appeared to have been a skullcap flexed open and shut, the fingers ringing it following in a similar motion.

In synchronization with the flexing, L'tirashin heard her master's voice echo in her head.

"This 'connection' you ssspeak of would exxxplain your activitiesss of late, of which I am very well aware." The look of surprise that flashed across L'tirashin's eyes let the demon know that she had been oblivious to being spied upon. "You ssseem sssurprisssed, though you ssshould not be. Did you think, even for a moment, that I'd blindly trussst anyone---even you---with sssuch a missssion asss thisss without sssome kind of sssupervisssion? Hardly!" Thick brown fleshy lids closed slightly around the demon master's eyes, giving the impression of narrowing as its gaze bore into her. "While you have been inssstrumental in the conquessst of many worldsss, you seem to have forgotten that many eyesss other than thossse of the Dark Onesss watch usss! I know for a fact that you have ssspiesss within my keep, asss well asss many other placcesss throughout exxxissstencce, keeping you apprisssed of thingsss you need to know to keep rivalsss and thossse who would usssurp your power and posssition at bay. I have sssimilar agentsss of my own. And it isss becaussse of our elevated ssstatusss and the precariousss balancce we maintain that we mussst have them. With asss long asss you've been here, you know full well how failure isss 'tolerated' and how thossse who do fail are dealt with. Were I you, I'd keep reminding myssself of what I just sssaid, unlesssss you fancy a climb up from the larval pitsss---asss a larva!"

"No, master, I do not," the humbled demoness said quietly. The mere thought of that wretched place made L'tirashin uneasy, especially when she was the one being referenced.

"I thought not." said Woeful Iscandar's sovereign with an air of satisfaction in his words. "Now, join to me, my pet. It hasss been too long sssincce I have sssavored your essssencce and sssucculent thoughtsss."

"As my master desires, so do I obey," L'tirashin smiled lustily. It took her only as long to say two words of magic to be standing naked before her master. The cold air nipped at her dark flesh, making it tingle all over and her nipples so stiff that her piercings became more than a bit uncomfortable. But L'tirashin pushed such selfish thoughts out of her mind. At that moment, the only thing that needed to matter to her was her master desires. L'tirahsin put a bit more sway in her hips as she seductively stepped closer, even though she knew it was more for her benefit. Her nearness was greeted by her master's appendages, writhing all around her. From having been her master's thrall on more occasions than she could ever count, L'tirashin tucked her wings tightly against her body and presented her back. Two sinewy tendrils came around on either side of her, wending their way toward her voluptuousness. As she casually stroked one, much as a mortal might a favorite pet, the tip of the thin tentacle split open and revealed a tiny mouth, filled with equally tiny teeth. In unison, the two tendrils latched onto her breasts, making the demoness sigh with pleasure. It had been too long, she decided. Far too long since she had felt the ecstasies her master could elicit from her battle-hardened body.

While L'tirashin closed her eyes to further enjoy the prelude of their joining, she both felt and sensed two more, thicker, tentacles silently slip between her well-shaped legs. Unerringly, the pair appendages slithered up and found their respective marks. With a soft squish noise, the first one pushed itself deep into L'tirahsin's more-than-eager pussy while the second was pressing against the tight ring of her asshole.

"Aaaaauuuuggghhhh!!" L'tirahsin cried out as the invader forced its way inside her. The pain lasted several long moments until the tentacle paused in its inward motion.

By the Dark Ones!! the demoness cursed mentally as the initial ache rapidly gave way to delectation. During their numerous past joinings, L'tirashin had always prepared her anal orifice for exactly this kind of abuse with either a small enchantment or a lubricant then, convincingly, hollering her discomfort. For the first time in almost two centuries, the thought had slipped her otherwise astute mind.

But, too, she knew her master truly relished hearing her scream in genuine torment.

L'tirashin's tail curled around first one then the other of the thick tubes of muscular demon flesh as they began sawing in and out of her twin holes, coaxing them into an increased rhythm and pace. She was almost startled when the finger-ringed skullcap lightly touched her on the head, seeking to increase the intensity of the union between master and servant even further. The long, many jointed fingers wrapped themselves firmly around her chin and neck, making resistance of any sort very unwise.

"More," L'tirahsin heard herself implore, feeling as if she were hearing the petition come from someone else's lips. "Please, master. More."

Her response was granted two-fold.

First, from near where the skullcap was joined to the tentacle supporting it, a long, thin, and very sharp stinger slowly emerged---and directed right at the base of L'tirahsin's skull. The pricking sensation she felt as it penetrated was only momentary as the hollow barb deposited a powerful hallucinogenic, that also served as a telepathic agent, right into her brain stem. The effect was immediate. As though a partition had been removed from between them, the demoness was fully aware of her master's innermost thoughts. But, knowing her roll in their joining, she turned a deaf ear to those intellections, not wishing to incur her master's wrath.

Second, L'tirahsin had a vague sensation of being pulled toward the bulk of her master's immense body. As she was settled in the opening within the demon's body, several more tendrils wrapped themselves around her legs, arms, and waist. She was secured in a similar way as had been the white-skinned man who had been there only several minutes before. Unlike that man, though, she was presented with another of her master's appendages. This one was as thick as her wrist and almost as long as tail; it was dark brown in color and a sickly-sweet, yellowish ooze was slowly and continuously seeping from the trio of holes at the center of the flat, flared end, dripping in copious amounts down its length. As soon as the rich, heavy scent tickled her nostrils, L'tirahsin's mouth opened as a reflex. Hungrily, her mouth engulfed the soft, leathery end and she took as much of it into her mouth as she could manage while still being pleasantly restrained.

L'tirahsin's normally fierce mind was reeling from the sexual barrage being carried out on her. Of course, whenever she coupled with her master, it was always thus. The demoness felt her body and mind being violated and ravished in a way that no ephemeral could ever understand or endure. Once, long ago, she had seen one try but the woman went mad within a minute and never recovered.

But, then, her master was no ordinary demon.

Long before the mortal universe had emerged from the chaos of its own beginning, the Abyss was ruled for countless eons by creatures called ry'thorbi. The popular belief among the tanar'ri---demons of L'tirashin's ilk---was that their ry'thorbi masters had been given the spark of life from the very essence of the pandemonium of the Abyss itself. The physical manifestations of the ry'thorbi reflected the truly chaotic nature of the Everdark with some having appearances so completely disturbing that the mind of a creature lesser than themselves beholding it would either unable to see that particular ry'thorbi or just die from having seen it. Equally fearsome was the power the ry'thorbi wielded. Had the gods of mortals been alive during their reign, surely they would have trembled at the mere thought of them.

Of course, even powerful beings can make mistakes.

And the ry'thorbi were no exception.

To serve them and aid in their desires of conquest, the ry'thorbi created the tanar'ri. With the successful birthing of each new generation of tanar'ri, their masters would introduce further innovations and depravities to their creations, making those of the next coeval even stronger. For thousands of generations, the tanar'ri served their masters slightest whims and raged bloody wars against those who they were told were the enemy. . .

Until the day when the tanar'ri revolted as one.

Hundreds of thousands of ry'thorbi lay dead shortly after the uprising commenced. Many of the survivors tried in vain to marshal those forces still loyal to them and affect an escape but often found themselves victims of well-conceived plans to draw them out of hiding. The tanar'ri were now their masters' master---and showed no mercy to them.

Only the most powerful among the ry'thorbi managed to survive both the insurrection and the long march down through the years. Quite often, the ry'thorbi had to change themselves in order to continue to exist and keep their past a dark secret.

L'tirashin's master had been one of those who had survived.

But, even during her long tenure in her master's keep, there were still a few things she did not know. Never once did she hear her master called be name, even when the only other ry'thorbi she ever saw paid a visit. The only name L'tirashin knew her captor as was "Master". The demoness also had no clue as to just how much of her master there was; all she ever saw was that which looked to be the insect-like throne she was currently occupying. It always felt like there was more but exactly where it was hidden eluded her. She also wondered if the physical form of her master had remained the same from the Age before Ages or if it had undergone changes from something far beyond anything she could imagine.

Most puzzling of all to her was whether or not her master was male or female. While possessing some physical characteristics of both, L'tirashin could never figure out which was the more true. But, if one's title was any indication, then she would have to guess that he was male since his rubric was "master", not "mistress". Of course, her master could have also selected a name such as "the Great One", "One Most High", or "P'tla'qaar"---and then how would anyone have known or even guessed?

At the moment, though, none of that mattered to L'tirashin because her master was giving her a joining that she had not experienced in far too long. The demoness felt her consciousness drifting inward, away from the reality of Woeful Iscandar and toward the core of her being. All around her swirled billowing gray clouds. After descending for a few seconds, L'tirashin felt her feet come to rest on a solid surface. Looking down, she could still clouds drifting silently past, far beneath her.

For the moment, she stood alone.

But she knew better than that. L'tirahsin could feel her master all around her. As a wisp of gray-white vapor lazily wafted by, it grazed her already tightly erect nipples and made a warm rush of sexual heat race through her loins. Her eyes became slits and rolled back in her head as a soft moan escaped her luscious, full lips.

"Oooohh, yessssssss!" she breathed.

"Sssooo," came a voice in her mind, "my ssservant enjoysss her massster'sss toucch?"

"It is what I live for, master," L'tirahsin replied as another gaseous tendril passed between her legs, its full length gently flowing across her engorged clit. The moan in her throat became a tiny yelp of pain as a small spark of lightning jumped from the cloud surrounding her upper torso and nipped none-to-lightly at her taut nipples, making the demoness writhe in pleasure-pain. A second jolt found its mark on her right buttock as a third licked against her left inner thigh.

"Aauugghhh!" she screamed as the pain lanced through her, making her pussy wetter.

"You were planning on keeping your dissscovery from me, weren't you?!" her master's voice demanded in undisguised accusation. "WEREN'T YOU?!?!" Punctuation for the words was accomplished by further jolts of lightning across her flesh.

"Master, I. . .ahhhh!. . .was only doing. . .owww!. . .my best to fully. . .aarrggh!. . .assess the situation. . .aauuhhhh!!. . .before informing you of my. . .uuuhhhh!. . .discovery!" L'tirashin managed to convey, between the small arcs of energy sent dancing across her skin.