Nemeia has her own means of release

After dinner, Nemeia moved to her tent, a couple of the men had propositioned her, but she had her own plans. Her patron, Nykta, a cambion, a demon of hell, had her insatiable hunger and craved Nemeia's subjugation and humiliation. If she was to survive the coming conflict, Nemeia needed Nykta on her side.

Nemeia lit a lantern inside her tent before slowly stripping off her robes. She ran her fingers across her skin. The deep blue paled where she had ridges of sinuous flesh; across her brow, ribs and hips—accentuated with ritual tattoos, long dark lines twisting their way around her body. Slowly her hands moved to her crotch, and gently she rubbed her mound, moaning softly as she pleased herself.

Nykta was perverse, and for Nemeia to satisfy her, she first needed her own pleasure to summon the source of Nykta's desires.

As she leant back and fingered her clit, Nemeia's mind wandered. She frowned, frustrated. She rolled over, lifting her arse into the air and brought her fingers back to her cunt. This time she moaned more loudly, her tail thrashing in pleasure. Her body constantly frustrated her, positions that set her off one night would fail to bring her happiness the following day, but today, this was working.

As her hips twisted against the fingers of one hand, she grabbed her breast with the other. The ridges across the top of her breasts firmed with arousal, and her nipples stood out. She moaned again as she felt her cunt tingling. As her cunt moistened, she shuddered and scooped her cloying flid into her fingers.

As she rolled over, she breathed deeply, she never liked doing this, but Nykta had her demands. Nemeia whispered arcane words into the fluid on her fingers, and it brought on a pinkish-red glow. As she spoke, her tattoos glowed, radiating faint darkness. Then she flicked it at the ground by her feet.

Slowly, at first, but increasing, whispering tendrils of darkness started to exude from the spot her juices had hit. Manifesting into a circular ring of darkness. As it reached its full size, Nemeia sighed. "I give my flesh to you, Nykta," she said before crawling into the circle of darkness.

Beckoned by her call, the Arms of Hadar quickly reached out from the darkness. Long and thick, the slimy tentacles grabbed her, wrapping her arms and legs in their length. She knew better than to struggle. The Arms of Hadar were strong and could rip her limb from limb if they so chose. But violence was not what they or her patron's desired.

Slowly she was lifted from the ground in the embrace of the tentacles. They covered her completely, wrapping around her breasts and squeezing them as others reached for her mouth. Still more pulled her legs apart and sought out her cunt and arsehole.

The portal beneath her fluxed and pulsed darkness as she prepared to be ravaged by the tentacles. Slowly a red hand reached out and grasped at the firm earth around the portal, and Nykta herself pulled her way into Nemeia's tent.

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