times, measures.

The word mephit appeared precisely once in my entire library of extraplanar arcana. In a book on those realms that were so unlike our own that we couldn't even comprehend them except to name them after the **** of nature they seemed made out of, there was a chapter on the types of creatures that tended to inhabit these unfathomable environments. On one page of that chapter, there was a description of the lowest beings, largely referred to as imps due to their resemblance to the well-known devil-creatures. At the bottom of that page was a small footnote: "sometimes referred to as mephits."

That was it. That was the only clue I'd managed to find in days of searching. It was the most bizarre request I could have imagined, but if my master wanted a weird imp thing, then I would deliver it to him.

I would pull an angel from heaven and rip off its wings if that's what my master demanded.

I cleared a table and began to carefully design and measure the spell that would do the job of yanking such a thing from its home dimension. I planned to shove it into a cage of power and present it to my master as a gift when he came back to me. The only problem was that I had no way of knowing what kind of mephit he wanted. He hadn't specified. Did it matter? It didn't matter to me, except as far as it mattered to him. Maybe I'd just grab all of them to be safe.

No, the consequences of opening so many portals to so many realms could be disastrous. But I was consumed by the objective: present the Hero with a mephit. I'd just chose one and hope for the best. I could always do it again if he was displeased. I would do it as many times and he wanted if he would just fuck me.

I was halfway through the lengthy process of designing the summoning spell when the library door opened and the Hero walked in.

I froze. I was in no state to be seen. My hair hadn't been brushed in days, I was exhausted from lack of sleep. My attire was rumpled and only half laced in the back. My dress kept trying to fall off my shoulders. I probably smelled. Suddenly coming face to face with the Hero was horrifying. I couldn't move.

"I've been watching you." He said simply.

I swallowed. So it had been a test? Had I passed?

He removed a bag from his shoulder and set it on a messy pile of books cluttering a once-tidy table. Reaching inside, he produced an item and dropped it on the ground. "Come. Show me what you are."

I obeyed. I moved towards him around a multitude of messes until I found what he'd dropped. My heart jumped when I saw it. It was a phallic device I'd only seen used by torturers or degenerates, a fat anal plug. I raised my eyes to him and he just stared at me without emotion, watching me.

This was the test, I realized. It made perfect sense. I understood as plainly as if he'd spoken it aloud. I had to put it in my ass, or I'd never be allowed to come again. I had to choose. My own pride, or total submission. Fuck. There wasn't much pride left anyway.

I stripped off my rumpled dress and put my mouth on the thing to wet it. I kept raising my eyes to the Hero but he only watched. Show me what you are, he'd said. Gods, he knew just how to humiliate me. I laid myself down and pressed it against my virgin asshole, spreading my legs to show him everything. I had no shame left. This man had broken me.

It went in with some difficulty, but once it was inside me, I could breathe easier.

"Good girl."

I purred. I could have cried, I was so happy to hear he was pleased with me. It made everything seem worth it, seem right.

He presented his cock and beckoned to me. I didn't hesitate to oblige. I would give him everything. Anything he wanted. Maybe if I was really good he would let me come. I needed it so badly. It was my first time swallowing cock, but I did my very best. Master didn't seem to mind my inexperience. He only wanted to see me obey. To see me broken.

I worked as hard as I could to please him. Slobbering and licking and sucking like a proper whore.

The thing in my ass felt huge as I moved around. It dominated my awareness, driving me crazy with desire as I choked and gagged around the Hero's cock. I pushed myself to my limit and kept going. It wasn't my place to decide what he wanted, I gave him everything I had. He said nothing. I gave him more, barely suppressing my violent urge to gag on the huge thing. He said nothing.

Eventually he pushed me down onto my back and I went eagerly, spreading my legs for him. Panting for breath, I was covered in drool and slime, but I felt no shame. I had left that part of me in my room the night I'd torn it apart.

He claimed me, then, and I wept. I opened to him and he took me. Fucked me good and deep. I moaned openly, for once delighted that my voice was muted in his presence. I was beyond filled with each thrust. The massive plug in my ass easily doubled the intensity of his penetration, and I broke again each time his balls slapped against me. I was where I belonged.

But my orgasm didn't come. Like so many before, it vanished as soon as it was meant to be.

I was crushed. Tears filled my eyes. "Why?" I breathed. "Why?" I couldn't understand. This was supposed to set me free.

The Hero stopped his **** and I gasped for air between wracking sobs. His eyes weighed me. Saw through me.

My body was spent. I had nothing left. I couldn't care about anything. Was I meant to be like this forever? A tortured wretch on the edge of insanity? I couldn't bear that thought. "Please..." I begged him. "Please, master... I beg you."

Without a word, he flipped me over onto my belly and pulled me back onto my knees. I didn't bother pushing myself to my hands, just accepting the humiliating position he'd put me in as my tears bathed the stone floor. He was going to fuck me to his satisfaction, leaving my pleasure out of it.

"Please..."