Serve

In a way, you’ve always had an idea of the role which you must fulfill, but there has always been that lingering dread, one which only grew when you came to the netherworld, where you knew that to give in would be not only damnation, but slavery, mutation, monstrous things you could not even imagine. Yet, given the prospect to submit, and the promise that no harm will come to you, that might not be so bad. It couldn’t be wrong. Could it? You look into the milky eyes of the succubus holding you and feel yourself relax. No. It couldn’t be. She would never hurt you.

“I…will try to serve.” You blush. “If you’ll have me.”

The succubus smiles down at you and leans in. “Gladly.” Her lips capture your own. You gasp at the taste of her midnight flesh and her tongue plunges into your mouth, plundering it. You wriggle and sigh beneath her. Her arms gather you up, limp and unresisting, one hand behind your head, holding you to her kiss as she sucks and probes your mouth, wrestling her tongue with yours. You melt into her arms, twitches of pleasure racing through you as her other hand molds your breast and tweaks your pebbly nipples.

She breaks the kiss and lays you down on the couch. You pant needily beneath her. “Do you know what it is to submit to a demon such as I?” she asks.

“N-no.”

“It means to vow yourself to a mistress,” she says throatily. She straddles your hips, her weight keeping you pinned to the couch. Her hands reach for the collar of her gossamer robe. “It means to submit to their greater knowledge. To put your life, your decisions in their hands. If they say something is right, it is so. If they want you to perform for them you do. Because you know they would never do anything to hurt you. Because you put your utter trust in them. Because the last decision you have ever made was whether to entrust all things to them, or not.”

She peels open a collar you never knew was there revealing the generous swell of her breasts. “Do you trust me in this?” she asks. “You do not need to decide now. But, for the moment, in this room, do you trust me in all things?”

With your fiery hair about your head like a blazing halo, naked beneath this buxom silver skinned goddess, you can only nod. “Yes. Goddess, please. Show me.”

“Then look upon the form of your mistress.” She opens her robe and lets it fall away. You suck in a gasp at what you see. She sports a body more perfect than any you have ever seen. There is something unholy in the blessed perfection of her blemish-less silver skin. In the generous curves and weight of her expansive breasts which defy sag to stare back at you. Between her legs there rises a cock, its head red and throbbing for you. And her nipples…

You stare, amazed. Instead of the nubs of pleasured flesh like your own, there are two vertical puffy slits. Your eyes widen even more as they part, and you realize you are looking at a pair of cunts.

“Goddess,” you breathe, horror mingled with admiration.

“I am blessed with the goddess’s own gift,” your mistress coos as she leans over you. “To have the means to give pleasure more than any normal woman. I must be, for I have many who have need of me. Need to serve me.

“I could tell when I saw you, waiting outside the temple, you were one of them,” she breathes, and her breath smells of jasmine and makes you swoon. Her breasts stop over yours, her fuckable nipples hanging over your own hard red nubs of flesh, their warmth tingling your sensitive skin. “You need me to love you,” she says. “Will you let me?”

You look up at this creature above you. Not a woman. Something more. Something which could only exist in such a demonic plane. Something such a place needs. Something you need. Your lips tremble as you open them. “Yes,” you whisper.

She smiles and gathers you to her. You jolt as her nipple cunt latch onto your own pebbly tips, sucking them inside like they were cocks, flexing with muscles no woman could possess as they suckle at you. You moan, lying back as she swallows your mouth anew, and arch as her cock enters you.

In no time you are completely assaulted. Every pleasure zone of your body lies beneath the succubi’s masterful touch. You undulate, your body flowing against her gentle thrusts, your mouth dominated, your nipples fucked, your cunny bred. Even your ass is not long in wanting as a sly finger wriggles past your puckered hole and massages your deepest insides.

You go mad for a little while. Or, at least, it feels like it. You cry like a little girl at the ecstasy she inflicts upon your flesh with her own. Your cries make your throat hoarse and echo through the chamber beneath the eyes of the great goddess looming overhead. You cum goddess knows how many times, and she in you, her cock basting your fertile depths with her cum relentlessly until it spills from between your slender thighs. Her nipple cunts coat your breasts in their sticky juices.

At one point you feel utterly drained, wasted. “Tired?” she asks.

“Mmm,” you mumble, so numbed by pleasure you can do little more.

“Would you like to rest? Or continue?”

“Mmm…more…”

She smiles, amused, and without separating breasts or cock from you, reaches over to a decanter of wine. “In time, should you wish to stay, you will be trained to go for longer. You will learn the exquisite joy of denial. But for now, I will not rob you of pleasure.” She fills her mouth with the ruby liquid. Again she kisses you, and her tongue and lips coax the warm fluid inside of you. Almost immediately you feel giddy and drunk, but alive! Alive and ready. And, smiling, the succubus resumes her **** with the same vigour as before.

The world dissolves into a haze of pleasure as your body submits beneath hers on the couch. Positions are changed on occasion and you delight in the new ways she takes you. You learn more of yourself and your body in the brief yet endless time in her arms than you ever did in the abbey of the Rose.

You drift through this haze for some time. You do not wake so much as rise from it, the mists of pleasure receding from your consciousness to reveal the imposing features of the statue of Hecata. Imposing, yet loving in their strictness you come to realize. You smile at the face in the wonder of renewal.

“You wake.”

You tilt your head to see the succubus. She has donned her robe again and your head rests in her lap. “I didn’t sleep,” you say.

The glow in her eyes and quirk of her lips say she understands utterly. “How do you feel?”

“Sore,” you admit, shifting a little and feeling the aches of your well fucked body.

“It is to be expected. I have a balm I can use to rid you of it.”

“Thank you.”

She rises and gently rests your head on the cushion. She picks up a jar from a table next to the wine decanter and slathers her palms in it. “Roll over, Sabine.”

You do so. You groan as you feel her hands begin to rub the stiffness from your muscles, blessed relief following in the wake of her oily touch.

“Well, Sabine?” she asks, her voice a soothing disembodied thing hovering over you. “Have you decided? Do you wish to serve?”

You purse your lips thoughtfully. The thought of surrendering your freedom utterly is not so repugnant as it was a short time ago. Would it really be so bad? No more fighting? No more struggling? To give in to someone you choose to?