Blair froze.
Her brain short-circuited when she heard her masters commands.
'Why? Why would he ask me to do such a thing!?!'
It was one thing to clean her master, but Agri too?
To be made to lick the various fluids from her skin... it was the ultimate humiliation, it was disgusting, it was wrong!
Yet, Adam's cold, red stare bore into her. His posture lazy, yet a beautifully crafted body of muscle and lethality. A hand of his still grabbing and fondling her rival's bare body; even as her unconscious eyebrows furrowed from pain, and her mouth moaned softly from pleasure.
Pleasure~
The brand on her soul flared, twisting that humiliation into a perverse, aching desire to please him, to obey his most degrading command; the slick and thick fluids no longer seeming as repulsive as she had initially thought…
It would be done… only because he commands it.
A shudder of silent thrill coursed through her body. Mind, thoughts, all thrown out the window in the face of her masters orders.
Slowly, she made her way before them, lowering herself to her hands and knees. Her head dipped, and her forked tongue, hot and dripping, extended.
Her quivering eyes were hazy.
She began the long, slow, meticulous process of cleaning them; each pass of her tongue a silent vow of her total submission. Her envy slowly shifted into a desperate hope that next time, it would be her own fluids she was ordered to taste from his skin.
His skin: taunt, hard, smooth, yet soft.
Her tongue would caress and trace the lines of his divine physique. Her hands wouldn't restrain from shifting up on his thighs or chest, her nails scratching, tickling his strong muscles. The peak of her crimson nipples would scrape his body sensually as she moved over him.
The scene was depraved to its core, the musky scent of sex; no thoughts, all silenced by their tired breathing and her worshipful cleaning.
Adam lay back on the thick demon hides, enjoying Blair's meticulous service, the furious passion from earlier sated. His body was glistening, marked not only by sexual fluids, but also by the traces of Blair's tongue.
A wet trail of devotion.
His lazy gaze, yet intensely focused, watched Blair.
Her pride was shattered, and in its place, a dark, submissive 'trait' had taken root.
Obedient to his command, she moved with a serpentine grace, all while her soft, wet tongue traced paths of mixed fluids on his abdomen and chest. A cleansing ritual that was both degrading and deeply intimate.
Her coppery eyes were glazed with a dazed, intoxicated arousal. Savoring the taste of him, of them; her master's essence a potent drug on her tongue.
A cruel, amused smirk tugged on Adam's lips.
With a gentle, yet firm, pressure, he nudged her head downward, guiding her towards Agri's groin.
There was no longer any hesitation, only lust-laced reluctance as she went into Agri's leaking folds.
"Kyaaa!"
Agri, still panting and lying bonelessly beside him, let out a soft, surprised gasp as Blair's head was pressed into her.
It felt weird, doing something so intimate, so disgusting, with someone that she had long decided to kill. Yet, seeing her react, tremble by her touch, a sense of satisfaction swelled within her; she was making her feel. Blair's eyes squeezed shut, but a faint, traitorous tremor of excitement ran through her.
Even the taste was exotic and not so bad...
Moving again, Blair's tongue emerged again, licking the evidence of Agri's pleasure from her inner thighs and her soft, gaping, twitching blue slit.
"Mmmnggg~"
Agri's back arched, a low moan escaping her as she watched. A mesmerized and triumphant feeling tingled in her body, and pussy, as the proud flame demoness was made to taste her.
When Blair was done, Adam guided her head back up his body with a tug on her crimson hair. Her lips, now glossed with a different flavor, parted without hesitation.
She took his flaccid cock into her mouth, her forked tongue swirling around the softening length with a reverence that bordered on worship. She cleaned him with meticulous care, her hot mouth a warm sheath. Her fiery eyes gazing into his with pure intensity, with desire.
She was branding herself with his taste.
Watching the proud, beautiful devil slowly succumb to the eroticism of her own humiliation, Adam felt a surge of absolute domination.
He saw the conflict in her the shame and the shocking, undeniable arousal that came with her surrender. Her emotional state and thoughts were a very interesting show, a play that brought him great joy to watch.
"Enough," He said, his voice low with satisfaction.
Blair immediately stilled, pulling back with a soft, wet sound as his member left her mouth.
Adam then waved his hand, willing a wisp of controlled flames to dance from his fingertips to wash over him, evaporating the last traces of moisture; leaving his skin clean and warm.
His control over flames was mesmerizing to the flame demoness… and all of her cleaning seemed to be unnecessary now that she thought of it.
Not giving Blair too much time to think, Adam opened his arms. The exhausted Agri was immediately curled into one side, nuzzling against his chest with a contented sigh. With his other arm, he pulled Blair against his free side.
His hand settled on the plump, perfect curve of her ass, kneading her firm flesh possessively. Then, his fingers trailed lower, finding the tight, quivering pucker of her back entrance. He didn't penetrate, only teased, a constant, reminding pressure at that most private gate, a promise of future claims; and her acceptance of such debauchery growing.
Blair shuddering, pressing her face into his neck, her body melting against his. Her depraved expression hidden in the nape of his neck.
The humiliation was still there, but it was now tangled with a sense of belonging, of being owned so completely it felt like safety, and of course, of intense pleasure~
Enveloped in his strong embrace, with his teasing touch, and the scent of her rival and master clogging her senses, she fell into a deep, overwhelmed sleep.
Adam held them both, the controller, the master of their ecstasy and their torment; allowing the darkness to claim him.
The night in hell was not a true darkness, but a deepening of its perpetually bloody twilight…
Hundreds of kilometers away.
Kaelgor sat before a roaring bonfire crafted from the gnarled, surfer-infused wood of some twisted dark trees. The flames casting long, dancing shadows that made his already imposing figure of 4 meters tall, seem even more monstrous.
Around him, his army of 400 rested within their sturdy leather tents, the low rumble of their snores and the crackle of the fire the only sounds in the vast, desolate expanse. The air smelled of ash, roasted demon flesh, and the ever present burning scent.
He stared into the flames, but his gaze was turned inward.
A profound, grinding boredom was his constant companion.
Here, in the 1st layer, there was no wariness, nor no thrill of adventure.
He was, for all intents and purposes, unstoppable.
The only true threats were the unpredictable tantrums of hell itself: the dimensional tempests, the miasmic vortexes, the earth-splitting quakes, or the volcanic eruptions.
But even these were mere inconveniences to a devil of his experience and power. Dangers to be watched for and neatly avoided, like stepping over a crack in the stone.
He had mastered survival in this realm a century ago.
All that was left is emptiness.