Yes Mistress

He shuddered beneath her dagger.

When she reached the wrist joint on his left hand, she surveyed her work, her lips curling upward in a smile at her handiwork.

"You're an evil bitch."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," she grinned wider and laughed, then dropped the dagger blade against the center of his chest. "You're going to be marked permanently. This blade will cut into your skin a lasting scar so that future generations will know just what you are."

She flashed a smile and felt fangs protrude from her mouth. Where those came from was beyond her, but she knew he'd be repulsed and afraid of the sight.

Smiling larger, she let a little fang show.

The smell in the room changed. Cold fear was now in the air as opposed the scent of brutal ego.

The difference was in the level of bitterness that Vixen detected.

Juan's eyes widened as the reaction hit his mind. "Puta, what are you?"

"I'm nothing compared to what you are. I'm only half the demon."

Juan snorted. His mouth opened to scream from the contact of blade to flesh but only silence came out.

The dagger cut into the flesh of his chest, making a perfect circle that pulled another scream from him. He yelled, thrashing his head backwards against the stiff wood of the table.

"You can make it stop anytime you want, you know." She hated to have to make it come to this, but he could beg like his victims did. He could show her earnest sincerity. He could attempt to redeem himself. Even if he failed, he could still try.

"Fuck you," he spat the words out at her vehemently. "I am not somebody's toy!"

Blood pooled in a circle around the indentation of his chest. The air smelled heavily of anger and death, cayenne pepper and rotting garbage.

Was this the stench of a rapist?

The glossy look in his eyes was replaced by something different, something resembling pain.

His lower lip trembled as tears streaked down his face. His body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

It appeared that realization was washing over him, making him aware of the demon in his humanity.

That was a good thing.

"We all are angel and demon." Each human possessed within them the ability to be both good and bad, or to choose. Juan chose the latter obviously and was paying for his mistakes through forced submission.

Vixen put the blade down on the stone floor and walked to the middle of the board. Blood ran in thin trails down Juan's arms and chest, pooling beneath him. She caught a glimpse of herself in his eyes, fangs bared. Her skin seemed translucent in the reflection in his eyes. The air filled with a new scent, one she couldn't quite place. Vixen fixed her gaze on an object hovering above Juan's forehead, noting the bright sparkles that surrounded it. "What is that?"

Juan lifted his head upwards, his eyes following the steady movement of the light. "You tell me. You're the one with fangs, lady."

"Aww," she tilted her head to the side, "tell me you don't want me to wrap my lips around your cock and suck you dry." Her voice lilted at the end of her statement, making it seem as though her statement was a question.

It even sounded different to her ears.

"I'm not into having my cock bit off, bitch."

His tone had wavered, the aggressive male hormones disappearing with blood loss. He wasn't so tough after all, it seemed.

The look in his eyes registered both fear and arousal. He thought she was truly going to kill him. She laughed.

Vixen wanted to end his pathetic life. She hated men like him who rose to power through sexist superiority. This facet of humankind annoyed her.

She felt the stain on the human race in each of them. Was drawn to the blackness just so she could cleanse it with punishment a proper

Mistress could dole out.

Maybe he wasn't the bad guy.

She snorted. Her powers on this plane were limited only to what she could see in the person's heart at the time and a few other niceties that she'd been granted. She'd touched him in the bar, kissing him with just enough force in her lips that she could set a hand over his heart and feel the beat and detect the stain of blackness on his soul.

It was thick like oil and molasses she remembered.

Narrowing her eyes at him, she noticed that his cock remained hard still, despite the blood loss. It seemed he liked playing this way.

Odd human.

Reaching for him, she set her hand in the pool of blood that covered his chest.

He flinched. "What the fuck, lady?"

His heart thudded loudly against her hand while the liquid swirled around and collected at her fingertips.

By now Juan had started to panic. His chest rose and fell sharply, breathing shallow breaths. His lips appeared to be trembling.

"You're afraid and aroused at the same time," Vixen noted. "This is interesting. So far all I've done is torture you and watch your cock grow harder."

Juan started to speak but his body shook against his bonds.

Vixen scratched her head. "What's wrong, bitch boy?"

Juan couldn't speak. His mouth moved but no words came out. The sparkles above his head appeared to be pulling energy from him, turning the ball floating overhead into a black pool of filth that stunk like the bowels of the sewers.

Vixen resisted the urge to hold her nose.

Instead, she blocked out the pungent odor with thoughts of what she would do next.

Free him and whip him into submission. By now he'd be so weak from blood loss that any attempt to strike out against her would be futile.

"You will kneel before me." She cleared her throat. Walking towards the wall with various knives and other instruments, she listened to the sound of each heel clicking against the stone floor. Pulling a whip off the rack, she twirled it around so that the cracker cut through the air, making a whoosh sound.

"What are you talking about?" Juan's voice was filled with what amounted to nothing. It seemed he was trying to fight the demon inside for control. The demon appeared to be losing.

"Just a little more blood loss will serve my needs with you for now. And so will your complete and utter submission." Her tone changed to a serious note. She coughed, keeping an eye on the now black orb above his head. It needed to go.

"What for? You like to drink the blood, puta?"

His derogatory tone was irritating her.

Quickly, she walked over to him and slapped

him. His head rotated against the wooden board before he looked back up at her with wicked intent in his eyes. His nostrils flared, the blood on his chest began bubble and ooze, a sign to her that something inside wanted out and was trying to get out through his chest.

Stepping back, Vixen put her hands together while still holding the whip. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the image of a white ball that was larger than the black sphere hovering over Juan's head.

In her mind she saw the white sphere, large and luminous. She saw it grow, energy coming from an unknown source outside the walls through the tiny window in the cell. It grew and grew still while being fed from the tiny stream of sparkles coming in from the window.

All the while, she imagined it growing, she imagined it encompassing the tiny black sphere above Juan's head. In her mind, she could see the white light filled with compassion and understanding; things she didn't possess. She saw the dark ball above his head filled with all the lessons he'd been taught growing up, how to treat women. How to keep people in line using fear, how to destroy someone, those lessons took up the space that was designed for the good in humankind.

She then sent the white light forward, pushing it with her hands. Opening her eyes, she pulled her hands apart and cracked the whip just over his head.

Juan flinched but the ball dispersed. It reformed but was smaller, brighter. It glowed powerfully but crackled with energy as though it couldn't hold itself together without something of his.

Juan jumped again at the sound of another crack though he couldn't see the whip, the sound of a shotgun blast echoing loudly in the chamber frightened him. "Don't hit my head with that thing, please!" The tone of his voice held that soft lilt that signaled a break in his posturing.

It was time to make him kneel while she had him here in the grips of fear. No doubt the amount of blood he'd lost by now was affecting him.

The wounds in his chest weren't grave but they were deep.

She waited patiently, watching the black ball of poison above his head slowly become encompassed by the white light she'd created. Heat poured from her hands into the bright white ball.

Keeping an eye on Juan, she flipped the whip in his general direction, lightly cracking the tip. Next, she lifted the table upright, putting Juan in a standing position. The leather continued to dig into his flesh, pulling a hiss from his mouth. By now the dildo has slid out of his ass and fallen onto the floor.

She hated that, loved seeing him plugged up. Oh well.

His head drooped forward. Gone was the sneer on his lips or the hint of darkness in his eyes.

The black ball above his head had been dissipating over the last few minutes.

Turning her attention to Juan, she stepped forward, eyeing him up and down. His body was drenched in sweat. Blood from his wounds now ran down his forearms and chest, dripping over his still erect cock. "You're a sick one." She gave his dick a tug, enjoying the groan he emitted.

"But," she sighed, "we need to get this over with. So, she stepped back towards the wall and flipped a switch. In a second, the leather restraints unclasped.

Juan fell forward onto his hands and knees, head bowed.

Vixen stepped back and swung the whip behind her. She flicked her wrist forward slightly, the whip popping ever so lightly. "You're ready to submit to me?"

Juan lifted his face, the single light in the room glaring off the roundness of his bald head.

The pathetic look in his eyes made him seem like less of a man. And right now, he was.

Impatiently, she cracked the whip loud, the sound echoing like a shotgun blast in the tiny room. She nailed a spot in the air just above Juan's head.

He flinched, falling over to his side.

"Get up on your hands and knees or I'll kill you." She growled.

Juan staggered to do as he was told. Making himself get back into the position he was in, he managed despite the fact that his limbs were trembling.

Vixen watched blood pour from the wounds in his body onto the floor. His upper body was a mess, would need a bath. He'd have to bath in the special salt solution she had prepared for this, in the event that she couldn't pull the demon from him.

Damn shame that he gave in, but human nature was bound to either lead or follow the strongest leader in the pack. And the demon that had been eviscerated by the healing white light had been stronger than the average baby but not enough to take out an accomplished Demon Mistress.

"Submit?" She cocked her brow, readying the whip behind her again. This next strike would hit him.

He looked up, mouth hung open. "Yes Mistress.

I submit."