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“I didn’t know you were into BDSM, Seargent,” Sharrya cooed, looking over her shoulder as she trudged through the ash, hands together and out in front.

“Silence, prisoner,” Eva snapped, and rammed her drone into her flank with all the force of a tossed pebble. The Baroness growled like a hungry lioness, but didn’t retaliate. Perhaps she saw the robot as unworthy of the effort.

Sharrya’s hands were bound by a pair of shackles, the blue glow pulsing from where it clamped over her wrists painting her skin in soft tones.

“Just how did you even acquire a pair of demonic cuffs?” Eva asked, floating behind the Baroness. Andreas was behind the drone, back inside the mech, arms swinging by his metal sides.

“Nicked them while we were waiting around for Selena to do her thing,” Andreas explained. Eva gave him a cold look. “What? Wasn’t like she was using them.”

“Let’s hope everyone’s too shocked by the prisoner to realise you stole from them.”

The Rallypoint wall was on their immediate left, Andreas had told Sharrya to stay close unless she wanted the guns on the walls to rip her to shreds. On the right, the scattered forces of her legions had vacated the area, leaving a sea of corpses behind, but the battle hadn’t reached its conclusion just yet. The gen one mech had taken to the city streets, just slim enough to fit between the buildings, wiping out any resistance with its array of weaponry, backed up by platoons of footsoldiers mechanised with support vehicles.

The sounds of fighting were echoed with distance, leaving an eery quietness to settle over the Rallypoint, one that Sharrya was quick to take advantage of with conversation.

“I recognise your voice, little machine,” she said, armour creaking as she gazed at the drone. Her helmet had been discarded, but the rest of her was still clad in that advanced suit. “Were you the one who interrupted the good Seargent and I’s conversation, way back when?”

“That wasn’t the only one of your schemes I countered,” Eva shot back. “Andreas did all the legwork, but I was there to observe, gather intelligence, and call support as needed.”

“So you’re a glorified stalker, I see. Perhaps it was jealousy that drove you to stopping our banter.”

“The only thing you’ll banter with from now on are your cell bars, prisoner.”

“Rudest floating toaster I’ve ever met,” Sharrya muttered, stepping over a small crater. “I was wondering if this world had robotic intelligence.”

“How do you know she’s not a real person?” Andreas asked.

“Don’t give it away!” Eva hissed. “She could have been bluffing!”

“Yours is not the first people I’ve seen to have machines as their allies,” Sharrya said. “I assume the humans created you, yes?”

“I’m mankind’s creation,” Eva explained. “Why would that be otherwise?”

“Oh, a couple of world’s I’ve been to have had artificial intelligences,” she said, waving a flippant hand. “Some made by mortals delving into machine-learning, some not.”

“You’re saying you’ve seen computers that were self-made?” Eva asked. “How? Where?”

Behind them, Andreas smirked inside the cockpit. Eva was disapproving of Sharrya at the best of times, but now she was riddling the demon for answers. Sharrya seemed to catch onto this development as well, a smirk curling her lips, which were still caked with dry reams of blood.

“Ah, but I thought my banter was restricted to the walls of my cell?” she teased. “Let me sate your curiosity with this: In the infinite strands of the Cosmos, anything is possible.”

Eva grumbled like a child denied their desert, Sharrya’ shoudlers hopping as she snickered. She seemed in fine spirits for someone who’d been captured, and their army in full retreat, strolling along with only a slight limp in her off step. Andreas noted that her missing fingers were already starting to reappear, growing back like the stems of a blooming plant. The armour on her upper stomach, disintegrated from the particle cannon’s blast, had taken chunks of her flesh along with it, but they too were coming back, its off-white flesh knitting the tendons together before his very eyes. Give her another hour, and Andreas guessed she would be right as rain.

To say the guardsman at the gate were surprised by the three of them would be an understatement. Clicking plastic rose in a cacophony of startlement as about twenty soldiers turned their guns on them, and it was only by Andreas stepping protectively in front of Sharrya that they didn’t open up on the Baroness, who was striding forward without pause all the while.

“Hold your fire,” Andreas called, putting a hand on Sharrya’s shoulder as he held her behind. “We captured a live one, someone fetch the Commander immediately.”

“My my,” Sharrya purred, reaching out and brshing the mech’s canopy with the back of her fingers. “You almost took a rain of bullets for me. Such chivalry should be rewarded, but how?”

“Just keep walking and don’t cause any problems,” he said, and motioned her forward. He anticipated some sort of comment or retaliation, but she moved on without complaint, though she met his gaze through the glass as she did.

The men parted to let his and Sharrya’s bulky forms through, Andreas walking by her side. It felt strange to just be so close to the Baroness, not quite touching each other but well within arm’s reach to do so.

Once they were through the threshold, Sharrya’s expression took on a thoughtful quality, her gaze moving up and to the sides as she took in the Rallypoint’s interior. There were winged imp bodies littering the ground in places, but the majority of the demons had fought up on the battlements, leaving the courtyard mostly unscathed. A few of the imps had reached as far as the warehouses, but from the way the men looked more at ease than not, it seemed any stragglers had been cleaned out.

“I always wondered what this base looked like from the inside,” Sharrya thought aloud, a few of the soldiers raising their rifles, as though shocked by her ability to speak. Andreas remembered reacting the same way. “It seems I got my wish, though perhaps not in quite the right circumstances. What’s that thing on the ground?”

“Grass,” Eva answered. “You should touch it, it’s not like you’ll get another chance.”

They didn’t have to wait long for Valeria. The Commander had to be forewarned of Sharrya’s presence, but she might not have quite believed it, the way her eyes parted just a fraction wider when she laid eyes on the Baroness. She was bodyguarded by two additional soldiers, and like the gaurds at the gate, they never took their weapons off Sharrya.

“I wish you had told me beforehand you planned on capturing this… thing,” Valeria said, directing her statement to Andreas. “but I must commend you nonetheless. So,” she added, folding her arms, addressing the Baroness directly. “You are the puta who’s killed so many of my people.”

“I know not what a puta is,” Sharrya replied. “but I’ve slain my fair share of mortals, correct. I assume you’re in charge of this place?”

Valiera didn’t answer, knotting her face as she staired up at her demonic counterpart.

“You’ve done a fine job of this place, very fine,” Sharrya continued, craning her neck to peer at the headquarter rooftops. “There’s a solidity to this ‘Rallypoint’. So stalwart, despite its immensity. You and your fortifications have once more proved unrelenting against my legions.”

“Save your petty comments, abomination,” Valeria snapped. “Instead tell me why I should not line you up against that wall and have you shot? You deserve no less for all those you have slaughtered.”

“Oh please, like your hands are any less bloodied. You send men to death, I send men to death, those men kill each other just as surely as planets go round. And all that death leads back to us, the Commanders, the Baron’s, the only difference is that I’m in the front, while you sit pretty behind these walls, watching fights through cameras than with your own eyes.”

Valeria looked like she wanted to tear Sharrya’s face off, but the demon just offered her signature I-couldn’t-care-less grin, Valeria throwing her hands up in anger.

“Hijo de puta! No nos parecemos en nada, maldito saco miserable de pis y viento! Te haré pagar por cada pizca de crueldad que has puesto en mi pueblo!”

“What did the cow just say?” Sharrya demanded, turning to Andreas, the motors in his suit whirring as he shrugged his metal shoulders.

Eva hovered in between the two women, pincers held up like a referee breaking up a boxing match. “Commander Valeria, do not let this… temptress get to you! It knows things that could turn the tide of this war, and the successful interrogation of one could be the key to reclaiming Spain, and all of Earth! That cannot be done if you do something rash now.”

Valeria rubbed her temples, marking the last moment she would ever refer to Sharrya directly. “There’s no part of the Geneva Convention that puts demons under its protection, is there? ARC has not made any edits to it?”

Eva turned her drone in her approximation of a head shake.

“Good. We’ll spare no expense for it. Take the creature down to the labs,” she said, waving at her guards. “Seargent Andreas, please escort them. You have my permission to use the particle cannon should it try anything. Now get it out of my sight.”

Eva and Andreas were joined by first four, then ten additional soldiers, the procession flanking Sharrya on all sides, every muzzle pointed at her face as they led her down the nearest path.

“Temptress?” Sharrya whispered, leaning conspiratorially towards Andreas.

“Just keep quiet, Sharrya.”

“Why, am I bothering these fine gentlemen?” she shouted, turning the other way and peering down at the nearest soldier, the man quaking under her gaze, even despite her sincere smile. “Greetings, mortal, do you think me a temptress too?”

Andreas yanked her by the arm, and she bounced after him, the troubled guard taking a step back. “I like that mech, Seargent,” Sharrya said. “You can really handle me around. I like that in a man.”

“Keep moving, Sharrya, don’t make me drag you outta here.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

Andreas shook his head, Sharrya chuckling as they continued through the courtyard. There were no civilians about, they had been evacuated to the lower levels for safety, and Andreas thought that was a good thing. The soldiers were getting jumpy just from escort duty, he could imagine the reaction from the women and children would be far worse, and how could it not be? A Baroness of Hell had made it through the walls, and the question of whether she was up to no god or not was up in the air. They’d have to keep an eye on her. More specifically, he would have to keep an eye on her. He knew her better than anyone else, and perhaps for reasons that weren’t polite to say out loud.

They proceeded to the western sections of the Rallypoint, Sharrya examining the buildings as they went. She was more fascinated than perturbed for a prisoner, he saw.

At the northwestern corner of the Rallypoint, the party crammed into the service lift leading down to the labs. Half of the guards went first, followed by Sharrya, Andreas and the rest of the men stepping onto the metal grating last. The lift was wide and strong enough to accommodate the mech, but not with the Baroness straining it at the same time, Andreas leaving the suit behind and in the care of a passing engineer.

As the gates closed and the lift sank below the surface, Andreas feared that if there was any moment for Sharrya to try anything, it was now, with over a dozen humans sharing the same tiny space with a heavy-class demon, but she proved his worries were in vain, as all the resistance she produced came from a small tapping of her hoof.

“How’s it feel, Baroness?” Eva asked suddenly.

“How’s what feel, flying microwave?” she shot back.

“To be defeated, to have finally met your match, to know you’re going to answer for all you’ve done?”

Sharrya chewed her lower lip, considering her answer.

“Liberating. The burden one bears from leading a conquest is a heavy one, and I do not miss its weight. Perhaps the shock of defeat hasn’t quite set in yet, but my mind seems unusually clear now that the war machine is out of my control.”

“Maybe you can use this time to reflect,” Andreas added in . “Like in the movies where the bad guy learns to be humble.”

“Moo-vie?” Sharrya asked. “What in the Hell-gods’ names in that?”

He was going to ask if she was serious, but thought that would be a stupid question, so he explained it. His description reminded him of the time he’d had this exact same conversation with Eva, back when they’d first met. Eva’s creators hadn’t for whatever reason taught her about shows and movies, and he spoke with the same passion now as he did back then.

“So it is like a theatre act, only projected onto a screen?” Sharrya asked. “Intriguing. I should like to know what makes such a thing possible.”

“You’re missing out,” Andreas said. “I can’t believe you’ve been across time and space and never seen a TV.”

The doors parted, the soldiers moving out backwards as they trained their weapons on the Baroness, Sharrya following after a prod from Andreas’ glove.

The scientists and Selena were just inside, crowded around a terminal. The all-clear must have been called, because she had a glazed look in her eyes as she stared away at her monitor, giving the band of newcomers the barest flicker of a glance.

“So this is where you plan to cage me? I’ve seen worse,” Sharrya mused, sweeping her gaze until it settled on Selena. “Fetch the head torturer, clerk, let us get on with this.”

It took two seconds for Selena to finally register the group, a hand shooting to her mouth as she looked upon the Baroness. She flashed to her feet, and she almost did go and get the torturer until her brain caught up with her actions.

“S-Seargent Andreas?” she asked, her voice trembling ass he looked to the once person she recognised. “W-What is that… thing... doing in my lab?”

“She gave up after the fighting was done,” Andreas explained.

“I prefer if you said mortally wounded to submission,” Sharrya interrupted. “Sounds better.”

Andreas ignored her. “Commander wants her put under lock and key until we figure out what to do with her. “

“I wish I had gotten a little warning,” Selena muttered, her hand falling to her chest. “Scared the daylights out of me.”

“It was a last-minute kind of thing,” he added.

“Well then, it’s not like we’re wanting for space,” Selena said, picking up a datapad and moving round the desk. “Follow me.”

She led the soldiers and their charge through the containment cells, the same ward Andreas had examined on his last visit. Selena bent over the retinal scanner, and there was a satisfying beep as the doors unlocked, Sharrya ducking through the arch while the rest of them walked through.

Sharrya turned her snout up at the large tubes lining the left wall, pausing briefly to look over their demonic occupants. The imp with the scratched glass casing stopped its frazzled swiping the instant it spotted the Baroness, looking at her with a kind of amazed reverence. The whiplash coiled its serpentine body into a tight spring, its yellow eyes tracking Sharrya’s own.

The Baroness walked beyond the containers like she was examining an art gallery, the shackles on her wrists creaking as she gestured. “I can see you’ve made incisions on these poor fellows, mostly on the skull and spine. How do they still live?”

“Repairing any damaged tissue is a top priority,” Selena said, speaking with a kind of casualness that surprised Andreas. She must converse with demons all the time. “Having functional neurological pathways ensures more accurate test data.”

“At least I put down those whose souls I plan to harvest.” Sharrya sighed dramatically. “But I guess I’m the monster here.”

They came to the last cell on the right side of the chamber, and for the first time since she’d been restrained, Sharrya hesitated. In the glass capsule opposite the door, the spirit demon floated with its pointed feet a few inches above the floor, the flaps of skin trailing from its spine wisping through the air behind it as though caught in a vacuum. Even without eyes, its crowned head regarded Sharrya curiously, and despite it hardly moving an inch, Sharrya froze up like a deer before oncoming headlights.

There was a sound of metal sliding on metal, and the containment cell door was parting, revealing its whitewashed contents. The floor was laid with tiles, the floors composed of plush cushioning that he recognised as soundproofing material. Andreas knew the more temperamental demons could make quite the screech when they could. He could see no furniture, and no windows. He’d go crazy within the hour if he had to spend time in a cell like that.

“Inside, please,” Selena said, logging away at her datapad.

“Why do I get the one right next to this creature?” Sharrya demanded, gesturing at the spirit, who cocked its head one way. “It’s going to stare right into my window the whole time. Can I not have the next one over?”

“I’ve already logged you for cell six, I can’t undo it,” Selena replied. “Now move. I’d rather not have these men shoot up the place.”

“Ridiculous,” Sharrya grumbled, but she stepped into the cell when she remembered the many guns trained on her head. Andreas wondered why she was so reluctant, but now wasn’t the time to ask.

Some of the soldiers shared a sigh when Selena activated the electronic locks, and the cell door clunked back into place, sectioning them off from the Baroness. Her horns touched the ceiling, leaving her to hunch over slightly in order to move around, but the Baroness quickly grew bored when she realised there was nothing inside to occupy herself with.

The solders soon dismissed themselves, leaving Andreas and Eva alone with Selena, who had turned her attention to her datapad. Sharrya crept up the cell door and watched them silently. When she gave Andreas a small wave, he waved back.

“So what happens now?” he asked, Selena pushing her glasses up her nose.

“I’ll arrange for tighter security details in the ward, can’t take any chances with a Baroness. Once I’ve got her processed we’ll see what we can do about getting her on an operating table.”

Something simmered in his chest at that, a pang of worry, but he suppressed it before it could bloom.

“What kind of tests will you be conducting?” Eva asked.

“Brain surgery, mostly, we’ll start mapping the neural pathways and see how much a Baron’s brain differentiates from the other demon classes, maybe figure out what makes them born leaders. After that we’ll open her up, take tissue samples, we can learn a lot from an autopsy.”

“You don’t want to interrogate her first?” Andreas asked. “She’s a prisoner of war, she might be willing to cooperate.”

“Two things,” Selena said. “First, prisoners of war do not extend to the demonic. And second, what would be the point of questioning her? I’ve never known a demon to give up its secrets willingly, and I’ve operated on over a hundred demons in my life. We can bypass the entire questioning process by going straight for the brain.”

“But this one communicates in English,” Eva replied. “How many demons have you processed that could do that?”

“None,” Selena replied. “but why would she comply? Every demon barring a few elite classes are completely expendable, and they know it.”

“Let me worry about that,” Andreas said. “I can think if a few ways to make her talk.”

“You?” Selena asked, as though he’d just suggested that he should run for president. “Do you have any experience in the study of the demonic, or training in interrogation techniques?”

“I’ve killed about eight hundred demons, so I’m pretty familiar with their anatomy. Plus Sharrya’s got a thing for me, so...”

“A ‘thing’? What sort of thing? You mean a vendetta, or-”

“What he’s trying to say,” Eva butted in. “is that he does have experience. His time in the special forces included CAC - conduct after capture training. He knows how to handle both sides of a questioning scenario. I vouch for him.”

“Indeed?” Selena asked, considering the pair of them, then holding up her datapad once more. “I’d have to speak to Valeria first, of course, get her approval before we move forward. You really think you have something that could get her to talk?”

Both she and Eva turned to him, Andreas glancing over to see Sharrya was also watching him, probably trying to read their lips and follow the conversation.

“Yes,” he said. “Yes I do.”

-xXx-

That thirteen-hour nap he’d had on his first night in the Rallypoint had spoiled him for rest, and Andreas had taken to his room after checking with Valeria that she no longer needed his help with the defence. According to the Commander, the gen one mech was pushing deeper and deeper into the city, and rather than encountering heavier resistance, there was less, and the lack of Sharrya to coordinate their movements was turning Spain into a shooting gallery for humanity. For all intents and purposes, Andreas’ mission was a success.

With the skies cleared, dropships could be sent in from the fleet to pick up the Seargent and the surviving marines, and they would be whisked away to the next operation in ARC’s planetary defence. Apart from the pensive ARC pilots who wanted to make sure they wouldn’t be shot down on their way to pick up Andreas and the others, nothing was keeping him in the Rallypoint.

Nothing except the Baroness, of course. His business with her had yet to be resolved. The fact she’d been captured didn’t change anything, except that now he had the opportunity to approach her on his terms, not the other way around, as it had always been since he’d crashed here.

Just under a day passed before he returned to the labs, Selena greeting him in the lobby. Her studies of the Baroness had been contained to simple examination for the moment, and it seemed all the Baroness had done since her capture was take off her armour and pace from the east wall to the west.

Her containment cell had no windows, no way for Sharrya to peer into the outside save for the small slice of glass on the door, but even then all she’d see was the captured spirit on the other side of the corridor. Yet despite this, as Andreas moved up to her cell, he found her demonic visage filling said window, Sharrya peering at him expectantly, like she’d sensed his approach.

He suppressed the involuntary chill at the thought, but Sharrya must have caught it, the corner of her lips twitching into a malicious grin. He let go of the thing he’d been pushing and reached up to the panel, hitting the button that activated the communicator.

“It’s visiting hours, Sharrya, you up for a little chat?”

The communicator was one-way, and Sharrya seemed to know this, for she nodded silently.

“Protocol says you have to stand up against the back wall first, then they’ll unlock the door.”

She did as he asked, hugging the wall like a mountaineer navigating a thin slope. There was a buzz, and then the door latch opened, Andreas sliding it out of his way.

The cell was layered with the fragrance of a freshly-bought car, but there was an underlying summer heat to it, and he knew at once why that was. Sharrya must give off a tremendous amount of body heat. It was a wonder that padded walls hadn’t caught fire yet.

“I knew you couldn’t stay away forever,” Sharrya said, her green eyes flashing. “Very bold of you to walk into a demon’s den unannounced, Seargent, especially with no easy way out.”

The door clanked shut behind him, as though to prove her point. The moment it settled, she peeled off the wall, taking a step closer. Gone was her cybernetic armour, piled into the far corner, the Baroness back to wearing her loincloth and leather swing.

“And you didn’t even bring a weapon either! One would think you were begging me to break all the bones in your body.”

Andreas chuckled, and Sharrya joined in as well, though perhaps not for the same reasons as he. It was a tittering sound that was stilting but not unpleasant, and Andreas didn’t think it fit at all with the face that was producing it.

“If you did try anything,” he said. “I think I could take you, given how you’re cuffed and the suppression field’s on full blast.”

“I did feel a certain sluggishness when I moved through that gate,” Sharrya admitted. “like a lead weight has settled in my hooves. But do you think these chains make me any less dangerous? I could crush you with my legs if I could get you at just the right angle…”

“I’m sure you could, but that’s not what you want,” Andreas replied.

“Oh?” She bent down to his level, like a parent about to school a petulant child. “And what is it I want, Seargent?”

“You want this hostility between us to be over,” he said. “We’ve hurt each other, physically and otherwise, but it’s time we buried the hatchet. Your war ended the moment I put those cuffs on you, and I’m willing to stop seeing you as my enemy if you are.”

“You are half-correct,” Sharrya replied. “While it is true I would find a development in our relationship so very exciting, the fact you just keep on going, keep on testing me when all others would have long since given up, it stokes the fire in my heart like you wouldn’t believe.”

She had a dreamy expression on her face as she said that, Andreas shaking his head in exasperation. “You like having an enemy then?”

“Andreas, I am not your enemy, nor do I see you as my own. I like to think of us as… rivals, with conflicting goals that help break the monotony that comes with staying in one place for too long. You staying alive is of great value to me, in a way.”

“I’d believe that, if you didn’t just threaten to break my bones just a second ago.”

This time she instigated the laughter, her shackles bumping her head as she brushed her cheek with a knuckle. “A simple misunderstanding. I’ve never been held prisoner before, and I’m of the strong opinion I do not enjoy it. The combination of the isolation, and all the recent events having finally dawned on me, has made me feel futile and not a bit furious. I needed to vent out on someone.”

“Maybe I should get you a stress ball or something,” Andreas said. “But I’m not sure Selena would let me.”

“Ah yes, the closet torturer,” Sharyya snarled. “I’m starting to wish you had not spared me. That vile creature has treated the rest of these demons rather poorly. Well, at least those with flesh.”

Her eyes flicked over his shoulder, to the window in the door, and Andreas noted that for the second time she had this odd look about her as she looked upon the spirit just outside her cell. It was a look of anxiety, or perhaps fear, but he knew for a fact Sharrya had seen worse horrors than any human could imagine, surely she wasn’t anxious of another demon, was she?

“You keep looking at that spirit over there,” he noted. “Is it talking to you?”

“I wish it wouldn’t,” Sharrya grumbled. “Pestilent poltergeist keeps rambling on in his sad little voice and staring into my cell. If only your mad scientist would terminate it posthaste.”

“When you first got here, you said you didn’t want the cell straight across from it,” Andreas noted.

“What of it?” Sharrya scoffed, folding her arms. “There are five good cells further away from that thing, and she puts me in the one directly in its sight. Why are you smirking, Seargent?”

“Cause I think,” he said, struggling to hold back laughter. “that Baroness Sharrya, conqueror of the universe and top dog of the Shattered Peaks, is scared of ghosts.”

Andreas threw back his head, Sharrya scowling at him as the cell filled with his hysterics. The spirit tilted its head at them in its ever-silent watch.

“Did you come here just to mock me?” Sharrya demanded, her gaze piercing straight through him. “I may not want to kill you, but my temper is oft to change if you test my patience, believe you me.”

The tops of her eyes seemed to grow tendrils of green flame, flashing like hot coals before a pair of bellows. Her ability to shift expressions so quickly was uncanny to put it lightly, and he urged himself to tread more lightly, regardless if she was a prisoner or not.

“I did come here for a reason,” he said. “I brought you something.”

“A gift, for me?” she asked, tilting her head curiously. “I was flattered enough just by the visit, but now you come with an offering?”

“I wouldn’t call it an offering, but after what you said before, I couldn’t help myself.”

“What I said?” she echoed. “What are you talking about?”

“Wait here and I’ll show you.” He moved back to the door, but when he hit the unlocking latch, it didn’t budge. “Scratch that, you have to stand by the wall again.”

Exaggerating her reluctance, Sharrya sulked over to the far side of the cell, and the door unlocked. He grabbed the handles of the trolley he’d carted into the lab, sparing the spirit a glance, then wheeled it into the cell.

Sharrya leaned on a hip, watching him roll by with a mix of fascination and confusion. Andreas presented the cart to her, the Baroness gesturing with her palms turned up.

“What… is it?” she asked.

“This is a TV,” he said, patting the top of the monitor. “And that’s a DVD player,” he added, pointing to the box on the first shelf of the cart. “Couldn’t stream on account of all the broadcasting networks going dark, but I’ve always been partial to using good old CD’s anyway.”

“I understood maybe half of that,” Sharrya said. “What exactly is this contraption you’ve brought me?”

“We’re going to watch a movie,” he elaborated. “You said you’ve never even heard of one, and I just had to fix that for you. A couple of the civvies let me borrow a whole bunch of them, let’s see here…”

On the lower shelf were stacks of movie cases, and Andreas pulled one out, beginning to sift through the titles. Sharrya peered over his shoulder, seeming a little out of her element by his sudden proposal.

“What is the point of this activity?” she asked. “Do all demons consume human media before going under the knife? A form of brainwashing, perhaps?”

“No, no, movies are entertainment, they help you forget all the worries of life for a few hours, maybe help you learn something if it’s a really good one. It’s also a good social experience if you and your friends have a few hours to kill, and you’ve got a lot of spare time on your plate, Sharrya.”

“I see, so it is brainwashing, but on a more selective level. A distraction, one I sorely need right about now.”

“Exactly what I was thinking. There’re a few gems here, but you can pick out what you want to watch.”

He held out the movie cases, but Sharrya didn’ take them, clicking her tongue in irritation instead.

“I have no basis on what these things are, remember? How do you expect me to pick one?”

“Ah. Right,” he said, feeling a little silly. “Well in that case, what’s your preference? You like action, adventure, thrillers, romances…?”

“How about a plot based on warfare? I would like to see how conquest is portrayed in your culture. If you have anything about the greater Cosmos, I would see that as well.”

“Somehow I knew you’d be into war movies,” Andreas said. “I think I have just the one…. here! This one was made around the time multiverse movies were the big craze. It’s about this guy that hops between world trying to save this woman. Plenty of action.”

“Are you referring to the woman, or in terms of fighting?”

“You’ll have to wait and see,” he said, giving her a wink, one she chuckled at. “There’s plenty more here if you want me to go through a few others.”

“Let us watch that one first,” she said, holding him by the shoulder. “As you said, I have plenty of time to ‘kill’. Now play the movie.”

“Yes ma’am,” he replied, popping the case and sliding the disk into the player. There was no way to turn the lights off from inside, but that was a small price to pay to get to watch this classic again.

He sat down on the hard tiles before the screen, and after hesitating, Sharrya did the same, crossing her long legs as she sat beside him, using the wall to recline. As the title screen bloomed across the monitor, Andreas jerked forward, reaching for the space behind the many cases, and producing a plastic bag.

“What’s that you have?” Sharrya asked, watching him produce another smaller, colourful packet from within.

“Can’t go watching a movie without a snack,” Andreas replied, tipping the bag of candy over his mouth and munching away. “Want shum?” he asked.

“It smells very sweet,” she muttered in disapproval, pinching a piece of candy between her claws. “I imagine it is high in calories also. Don’t tell me you eat this drivel?”

“Shut up, it’s starting.”

-xXx-

Their fronts were painted in instances of white as the screen flashed with action, the fight scene partnered with a dramatic orchestra. His back was bleeding with cramps thanks to his awkward leaning position, cursing himself for forgetting to bring a few cushions with him on his theatrical visit.

Andreas glanced to his left, where Sharrya lounged nearby, where she didn’t seem to share his discomfort. She was laying with just her shoulders propped up against the wall, her long legs trailing out in a V shape before her – a very un-Baron-like look in his opinion – but her defeat in the assault must have harmed her ability to care as well as her pride.

They were divided by a long row of junk food packets, and he was amused to see her clawed hand dip into them every few moments, bringing the snacks to her maw. Either she had come around to their taste, or she was too engrossed in the movie to care. He thought it might be the latter, considering that the movie’s first hour had been full of her confused questions, but the second hour she hadn’t uttered so much as a peep.

The silence was unlike her, considering their past, and while he wouldn’t say it was a friendly kind of silence, he had to admit this was much better than the two of them shooting at each other. It wasn’t every day one got to hang out with a demon, one with a tantalising set of legs no less. The way they just seemed to stretch across the cell was always causing his eyes to flick over at them.

The end credits soon began to roll, Andreas sitting up to roll his tense shoulders, asking Sharrya what she made of it.

“Your species’ perception of multiverses is completely wrong,” she replied. “Every diversion they went to had the same breathable air, the same temperate climate, even the same gravity. Such constants wouldn’t exist, the way they were jumping around the Cosmos so carefree.”

“It’s not a documentary on quantum physics or whatever,” he chided. “And it’s not like any human has actually gone into the multiverse.”

“True. The theory is there, however, and I can’t fault that. Nor can I fault the plot, it was quite intriguing, particularly around the second act. This discovery of movies is most enjoyable.”

“And you didn’t even have to destroy the whole world to do it,” he muttered, but not quietly enough that she didn’t hear.

“One would think you were making a jab at my society,” Sharrya replied, her green eyes tracking him intently as he got to his feet.

“Is that what you call it?” he said sarcastically, but Sharrya was quick to respond.

“Oh yes, Hell is a complex civilisation, the legions are just one facet of many. We have cultures, social hierarchies, even a few rudimentary forms of currency.”

“Comparing summoning circles with your neighbours, serving demon lords, and trading in souls doesn’t make you a civilisation, it makes you the literal definition of evil.”

Sharrya shrugged. “That is still the definition of a society, no matter what universe you come from. You might perceive it as evil from your standpoint, but I see very similar characteristics in your world, also. Does mankind not kill in the name of its own gods? Does mankind not trade in the souls of its own people, orchestrating decade-long wars in which every death can be profited?”

“Our hands aren’t clean, I won’t deny that. But we’ve never invaded another universe and slaughtered all its people, so on that, we’re one up on you.”

“A reasonable point, if a little naïve. This might come as a surprise to you, but my actions are not malicious, and neither are Hell’s. Conquest across worlds is my way of life, both literally and figuratively.”

“I could see how you’re not a completely evil asshole,” Andreas said. “but Hell as a whole? That’ll need some convincing.”

“How could I put this in a way you’d understand?” Sharrya mused, munching on another handful of candy as she considered her question. The shackles made her hand gestures awkward, but not impossible. “Think of an engine. An engine needs a constant source of fuel, or else it will cease to work, rust, and soon to be rendered incapable of functioning. See where I’m getting with this? Hell is an engine, and a very hungry one at that, but it’s very picky about its fuel. Do you know what that fuel is?”

“If I had to guess, it would be human souls.”

“Not just human souls, any souls. Yours, mine, aliens. The greater the sin of the person, the better. Without the legions to siphon the energies of souls to Hell, it would rust, decay, until all of it would cease to exist, demons included.”

“That sounds… pretty good to me,” Andreas said, Sharrya glaring at him.

“I know you don’t mean that, Seargent. You spared me when you had your chance to end our fight, you must see something in me worth saving.”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t,” he said. “What I do see, is that we need something else to watch.”

“Indeed, let us not ruin our movie night with politics. Assuming it is nighttime. You pick this one,” she added. “I wish to see your taste in media.”

“Alright,” he said, sorting through the collection. “Want something to drink?”

“Sure,” she said, and he tossed her a can. Despite her shackles, her arms shot out to snatch it, the Baroness using her claw to flip the tab.

“It’s cool, but also spicy,” she said after taking a sip. “You know my palate too well, Andreas.”

“Try some of those warheads in that red packet there, they’ve got some kick in them if you like it hot.”

“I certainly do. Make haste, will you? Who knows when my captors will cut this visit short?”

“Don’t worry about that. People are celebrating our victory out there, should have a few days at least to yourself before they remember about you.”

“A humiliating position, but not an unpleasant one, if it means getting some alone time with my favourite human.”

“Positive thoughts, Sharr’. Positive thoughts.”

As the next movie began to cycle on, Andreas returned ot his place by the wall, but his back began to complain as soon as he settled in, Sharrya shooting him a questioning look.

“Why are you fidgeting?”

“This cell doesn’t exactly make the best lounge, Sharrya, I thought you of all people would know that.”

“You’re not all that tough without your armour on, it seems,” she chuckled. “Come, I know a solution.”

“What are y- hey!”

Sharrya scooted closer, and curled her arm over his shoulders, the whole move reminding him of the yawn-arm-trick, which was fitting considering the circumstances. Her manacles clicked over his chest as she pulled him closer, his shoulder plunging into the meat of her right breast.

He thought that should he ever touch her, she’d be as hot as a stove, and he wasn’t far off the mark. Her skin was like the hood of a car left out in the sun, just barely tolerable to his bare skin, yet there was a smooth texture to her that he couldn’t deny the feel of. He’d expected a demon to be as rough as scales, but her bubble-gum pink skin was like glass against his cheek and arm.

Textures aside, being in contact with the demon had sparked a hint of apprehension in him, and he struggled against her iron-grip. “Sharrya, what the Hell? Let go of me!”

“You said you wanted a lounge, you got one,” she replied. “Stop squirming, Andreas, I’m trying to concentrate on the show.”

“Personal space have any meaning to you?” he complained, trying to shove her away. He almost touched her bosom before grabbing her by the stomach, but it was like trying to push over a bull, her strength quintupling his own.

“You’re the one in my cell, so technically this is all my personal space,” she pointed out.

“You better let me go, or-”

“Or what?” she asked, cutting him off. “You going to kill me, with no weapons or armour, or even the strength to overpower me? Sure, you could cry for help, I’m sure someone is listening in for some sort of safeword, but there is really no reason to get so worked up, Andreas. Being snuggled by me isn’t as bad as it may seem.”

He didn’t want to admit it, but he’d put himself in this precarious situation. He couldn’t break free of her grip, and he began to worry what sort of vengeance she could take on him at this moment.

“Just relax,” she purred, Sharrya pulling him over her leg. The fur on her thigh brushed his rump as he was brought into her lap, her hot flesh sealing him in on all sides. “What do you think I’m going to do, hold you hostage? Not a bad idea, all things considered…”

He fumed up at her silently, Sharrya chucking at him, her laughter making her breasts buckle against his shoulders.

“I’m joking, I’m joking. You’re so strung-up, I thought movies were supposed to be relaxing, communal, won’t you allow me to have the full experience? I’ve lost everything else thanks to you…”

Seeing as they were on not-killing terms, he eventually decided to relent, his struggles ceasing to a few annoyed jerks of his legs. The Baroness sensed his change in mood, grinning down at him as she crossed her long legs in front of him, pressing him into her stomach. There was just so much of her on all sides of him, that heat she radiated starting to make him break out a sweat.

“That’s it, good boy,” Sharrya said. “I am much more comfortable than the wall, yes?”

“Much hotter too, I’m boiling up down here.”

“Did you just refer to me as hot? How forward of you...”

“I was referring to your temperature, numbskull.”

“I’m sure you’ll get used to it, we just need to spend more time together.”

She settled her hands on his shoulders, pressing the pads of her thumbs into his neck, giving him a massage. He tried to take his mind off her overwhelming presence by focusing on the movie, but it was a tall ask when a literal demon had him in its lap.

Her thighs were like two logs to either side of his waist, the flesh on the insides shaking whenever Sharrya adjusted herself. He could feel the rock-solid abs beneath his back, so defined he could pick out their shape without his eyes. The leather sling she wore to contain her bust rubbed against the back of his head, her weighty breasts gripping his skull like two volley balls. Every time she stretched out her spine (its frequency leading him to believe it wasn’t accidental), they’d slide forward into his peripheral just a little bit, and his heart would pump harder than ever. The damn things were bigger than any human’s.

As the movie continued on, her grip on him went from stifling, to firm, then finally relaxing when Andreas started to get used to her, as she’d put it. At one put she’d even lifted her arms to retrieve their snacks, holding the packet down to him in a silent offer, one he accepted without taking his eyes off the screen.

He should be unsettled, afraid of being in contact with this entity, and a part of him was gripped by these things, but something about Sharrya was overpowering these doubts. Maybe it was the fact she was coming on so strong, and for someone who didn’t get a lot of downtime to go looking for dates, he couldn’t help but find it flattering on some deep level.

Maybe he could use that to his advantage, but not now. His favourite series was on, and he was about to show it to someone who’d never seen movies before, and that kind of excitement put such thoughts aside.

-xXx-

“That’s the conclusion?” Sharrya demanded, shaking her bag of crisps at the screen. “I feel as though my soul has been robbed, whoever made this should be put on trial.”

“We call that a cliffhanger,” Andreas explained. “Keep the loose ends loose, get people excited for the next one. Let me up, gotta stretch my legs.”

He thought she’d might protest, but her cuffed hands rose from his chest, and he stepped out of her lap, vaulting over her leg as though crossing a fallen tree.

Brushing crumbs from his uniform, he stretched his arms over his head, a satisfying crick spiking from the base of his spine. They’d been lazing around the cell for hours, longer than Andreas had planned to visit, but he didn’t mind catching up on his favourite shows. Back on the flotilla, there had been very little time to rest between deployments, and this was his first chance since the invasion he could really kick back and laze about without worrying about orders from the Admiralty.

Eyes on his back brought him out of his thoughts, and he saw from the corner of his eye that Sharrya was staring at him. It was a different look from the usual, more intense if he had to guess.

“Why’re you staring at me all creepily?” he asked, rolling a shoulder.

“I wish to thank you,” she stated, as though she was ordering him around.

“You… what?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest.

“I’ve never had the time nor the reason to just… idle like this,” she said, visibly struggling to find the words. “Demons do not take time off or participate in communal activities. It’s unnatural, but I’ve always relished variation. Exploring foreign cultures has always been a fascination of mine, but as Baroness my capacity to study is… limited, as you could deduce. These movies are an intriguing insight to your species, with the added benefit of being quite entertaining.”

“If you’d like, I could find a documentary or something,” Andreas suggested. “The world’s not quite as dramatic and exciting as what we’ve been watching.”

“It’s been centuries since I last had the chance to study an alien race. Defeat is more of a learning experience than I realised,” she added with a laugh. The grin oozed off her face, leaving her grim and thoughtful. “It’s sad when I think about it. All those species Hell has conquered, all that culture I helped erase. I… wish there had been some way of preserving it all.”

“Alright who are you and what have you done with Sharrya?” Andreas asked. “First you want to thank me, now you’re saying you regret all the things you’ve done?”

Her eyes flicked to his and then back to her feet, her nostrils flexing as she huffed. “Regret? I wouldn’t word it like that. It is more like I am… unsatisfied in Hell. You said Hell was evil, and perhaps in that regard you are correct.”

Her smile reappeared, but she didn’t laugh. “It seems being prisoner has made me repentant! And so quickly, too. Maybe I should escape sooner than I planned.”

Andreas couldn’t tell if she was joking or not, but she was right in that being cooped up in here was already taking its toll on her. It was as good a time as ever to prove to Selena and Valeria that there was a method to his madness.

“So why don’t you do something about it?” he asked. “You might be a genocidal maniac, but you know deep down that what you’re doing isn’t right. Hell will chew through every galaxy or universe or whatever the fuck you call it until nothing’s left.”

“The universe is infinite, Andreas, there would never be an end, we would simply march on into forever.”

“But think of all the worlds you’ve fucked over, all that shit you’ve destroyed,” he said, Sharrya cocking her head at him. “You’d have done the same to Earth if we hadn’t fought so hard, all our culture would have been just another thing on top of all the things you’ve burned.”

“Is there a point to this train of thought, or are you simply trying to guilt me into a corner?” Sharrya demanded.

“The point is it doesn’t have to be like this. You’re a Baroness, you’ve got the influence and the backing of thousands of troops. You can turn this endless campaign of yours around, give Hell a taste of its own medicine.”

“You’re… asking me to be… a turncoat?” Sharrya asked. She threw her head back, cackling at the ceiling. “Seriously? I knew you were dense, Seargent, but this is outrageous even for you.”

“Is it?” he asked. “I’ve seen demons fighting each other all the time, so it’s not unheard of, right?”

“Lesser demons brawl out of boredom, you fool, and I am far above such petty squabbling.”

“So you’d rather just stick it out because of your pride? You’d rather stay disgruntled do nothing?”

“You do not understand. If a Baron were to rebel against her masters, every greater demon who catches wind of it won’t see it as insurgency, but as an opportunity. The defying clan would be chewed apart from all sides until nothing remains but ashes. That’s the whole point of us being sent across the Cosmos, to redirect our urges.”

“But you’re at the top of the Baron food chain, aren’t you? You told me you bested every other clan at this Shattered Peaks place, who would try and fight you? And isn’t fighting against the odds your thing anyway?” he asked. “Battling against Hell would be the ultimate test of mettle. And it’s not like you’d be lacking for energy, you said you could consume the souls of demons too, right?”

She began to speak, paused, then tilted her head in consideration. The cell was filled with a thoughtful silence, then Sharrya leaned back against the padded wall, resting her head in her hands.

“If this was any other world, I might have considered your proposition. But for whatever reason the Maykyrs are particularly interested in humanity, more so than any other species we’ve come across. Even I couldn’t hope to stand up to the power of a Maykyr, I’d be doomed along with the rest of mankind.”

“Help me help you, Sharrya,” Andreas said. “As much as I hate your guts, even you don’t deserve to get tested on like some experiment. It wouldn’t sit well with me. I might be able to sway them into going easier on you, but you need to offer something in return.”

“As much as that’s appreciated, going rogue is a too much of an ask, even for you.”

“What about information?” he suggested. “You know how to stop this invasion? Any VIP’s we could target, what are Hell’s weaknesses?”

“Have you tried shooting us? That seems like a pretty big weakness in my experience.”

“Work with me, Sharrya, I’m your best shot on making this easier for you.”

“Your world is marked by gods, Andreas, and they are here to stay until every last sinner has been cleansed. The will of the Khan Maykyrs cannot be fought. Your world has already fallen and you’re too blinded by hope to realise.”

Andreas ran a hand through his dark hair, muttering under his breath. Her words sparked a shred of doubt in his chest, but there had to be a way to stop Hell, didn’t there? Or at least slow it down enough for ARC to come up with a plan.

Sharrya seemed convinced there wasn’t a way out of this. Either that or she was holding out on him, which was a possibility he couldn’t rule out. He wracked his brain, thinking of everything he knew about Hell.

“What about the gore nests?” he asked.

“The nests?” Sharrya asked, blinking. “What of them?”

“You rely on them for your portals, your corruption. They’re your version of satellites, in a sense. Your whole network turned upside down when I blew up that other one.”

“I’d call it more of a nuisance, one I had to handle personally due to the excessive presence of the ignoramus.”

“But you lost control, right? And if you lost two or five or even twenty others, that’d cripple you, wouldn’t it?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes. What are you getting at? You don’t know where the rest of the nests are.”

“But you do, Sharrya.”

Understanding bloomed in her eyes, her expression going from shocked to annoyed. “You want me to sabotage my own operation, is that it?”

“Not just yours, every nest you know the location of, and as a Baron I think you have a pretty good idea where they could be. We’d start with Spain first, hit every nest with an artillery shot or something, and every demon in the country is fucked. They’d be sitting ducks that we could hunt at our leisure. All of Spain would be basically free.”

For a long time she considered him, perhaps not really sure if he was being serious or not. Then she rose herself into a sitting position, leaning towards him. She was so massive that even with him standing they were almost eye-level.

“It would never work. They would be replanted in a second, scores of demons will turn their attention to this little backwater. Destroying the gore nests will do nothing but delay the inevitable.”

“You let us worry about that. All you need to do is tell me where they are.”

“And why would I do that?” she asked. “You’re asking me to willingly throw everything I’ve built up away, and if you think I’m going to do that just because you asked, you’re more of a fool than I thought.”

Andreas wiped his brow, considering everything he knew about Sharrya and what he could give her.

“Your freedom might persuade you,” he said, Sharrya tracking him as he paced the cell. “But the Commander would never go for that. I could try and wrangle you a better cell, or maybe…”

Sharrya reclined once more, turning her eyes to the ceiling.

“But I think I know what is. You give me the location of every gore nest you know, and I’ll… I’ll let you have your way with me.”

Sharrya looked like she’d been hit in the face with a frying pan, her eyes glowing a fresh shade of green as they locked to his own. “You’ll… You’ll what?”

“From the way you’ve been making passes at me, I’d say you don’t meet many bachelors these days, you’re probably pent up to high Hell if you’re dipping outside your species. You can burn all it all off with me. I’ll give you a lay you won’t ever forget.”

Sharrya said nothing, climbing to her feet without breaking eye contact. He tilted his head as she came within inches of his face, his skin pricking at her warm aura.

She broke the silence by falling into a fit of laughter, one she struggled to break. When she did, he thought he saw a tear in her eye, one she wiped away with a claw.

“You always have a way of keeping me guessing, Andreas,” she laughed. “Do you truly realise what you’re offering me? You, a mortal, are offering your body to a demon. Are you sure you’d even survive such an ordeal?”

“I’ve beaten you a couple times now, I reckon I can keep handle a root from a Baron.”

A genuine smile crossed her face, one that was small and bright. He had no idea Sharrya could be so cute when she wanted.

“You’d be committing to the ultimate of Sins,” Sharrya said, chuckling like she had just voiced an in-joke. “Even the Maykyrs would be jealous of such a willing mortal, and it would be all mine to claim…”

“Are you in or not, Sharrya?”

“Oh, I am most certainly all for this. But the question is, are you? Be wary little mortal, once you are mine, there is no going back. You will be the first mortal to have mated with demon, our souls will be linked on the most intimate of levels.”

“Sounds like you’re trying to get me to reconsider.”

“You are not as privy to the essence of life and immortal souls as I am, and I respect you enough to give you this one chance. Perhaps you should think on it.”

“You’ll give me the information I want in return, right?”

“I will… consider it. It would all depend on how well you’d perform, of course,” she replied.

“I’ve picked up a few tricks in my time. I think you’ll like this specific part of human culture.”

“Such conviction. If you are truly set on this path, then I’m eager to begin when you are.”

“You’re not going to turn me into a vegetable or something, are you?”

“That all depends on you,” she chuckled. “Your mortal body may be driven mad, but if you have the constitution, as I know you do, you may come out intact, but certainly not unscathed.”

“Then we have a deal,” he said, holding out his hand. Flashing him a sultry wink, she took it, pumping it once.

“Let us not waste time,” she purred her hand sliding up his arm, her claws leaving red welts on his skin. “Ah, but wait,” she added. “This room is rife with cameras, perhaps it would be best if they were disabled before we become most intimate.”

“Oh, right,” he said. “Maybe I can get Selena out of the lab for a while.”

“What about your little robot friend?” Sharrya suggested. “a machine of its complexity could provide assistance, I should think.”

“I’ll give her a call. Wait here.”

“It’s not as though I’m going anywhere,” Sharrya replied as he made for the door. Only now was he aware that his heart was thumping hard, was he really planning on sleeping with a literal demon? It went against every principle he and mankind stood for in this war, but if that was the cost it took to win back this country, it was only right to pay it.

The door clicked shut, he pulled his communicator from his pocket, tapping at the display. The pocket device was half-radio, half-phone, able to send out calls to any other device in the base, Andreas sending a ping to Eva.

It didn’t take long for the hovering drone to fly into the containment block, Eva must have been lingering nearby, expecting trouble.

“Seargent, good to see that going into a confined space with a demon has left you none the worse for wear,” Eva remarked. “How did it go?”

“She’s willing to give us the exact location of every gore nest she knows of.”

“Excellent! Destroying their key infrastructure has proven to be very effective in the war effort. Commander Valeria will be very pleased.”

“Now, there is one slight catch I should mention,” he added, Eva making a go on gesture with a pincer. “In exchange for the intel, I have to sleep with her.”

“…”

“… Eva? Did you hear me?”

“I wish I hadn’t!” she complained. “Don’t tell me you actually agreed to these conditions?”

“Funny you should say that, it was my idea in the first place.”

Her drone visibly sagged, the robotic equivalent of a sigh. “Unbelievable! Seargent you joined this war to kill demons, not mate with them. I should have known all that voyeurism you’ve displayed for that creature would have accumulated to this…”

“There’s another thing,” Andreas added. “the quality of her intel all depends on how well it goes.”

“We’re screwed!” Eva sighed, Andreas folding his arms. “All that effort to get you in there has been for naught. Back to the drawing board, as they say.”

“Hang on,” Andreas said, raising a pointed finger. “what do you mean, we’re screwed? I know plenty of women who’d have a lot to say about my ‘performance’.”

“Point them out, then. Oh that’s right, your last procreative partner left you over a year ago.”

“She was crazy anyway, and she didn’t have any complaints about us in the bed, mind you.”

“You’ve been calling Sharrya a crazy bitch since the start!”

“Sometimes that’s not a bad thing,” he said, putting it in a new light for her sake, as well as his. “And if we want those nests this is the only thing she’s willing to take as compromise.”

“I cannot believe the fate of this country now rests within your ability to become… erect,” Eva sighed, as though the word was making her cringe.

“It’s just sex, Eva, I’ll be in and out before you know it. In more ways than one,” he joked, but Eva was far from amused.

“Perhaps you should get some practice in before you begin the procedure?” she mused, seeing there was no alternative. “I know of several individuals of both sexes in the Rallypoint who have expressed interest in your person, a few you may know by name.”

“There’s no time for practice, I have to do this right now, before she changes her mind.”

“Well what are you waiting for? Get in there and do her. It,” she quickly corrected. “I meant to say it.”

“There’s just one thing,” he said, Eva bobbing in disappointment. “Relax this is different. Sharrya doesn’t want us getting down and dirty with all the cameras on, and I can’t blame her. Think you could turn them off?”

“You want me to disable surveillance on a prisoner now?” she asked, exasperated. “Do you have any idea what kind of security risk that poses?”

“I don’t want this getting out, Eva. First guy to do a porno shoot with a demon is not the legacy I want to leave behind.”

For a moment he thought she wouldn’t go for it, but then she tilted her drone in a nod. “Fine, fine, I can get into the system from the control room, loop some footage, but on one condition.”

“If you want us to sleep together too, you’ll have to wait until after I’m done with Sharrya.”

“Bozo,” Eva snapped, but there was a hint of mirth behind her tone. She told him to stay put, zipping out of the block and disappearing. About two minutes later, she returned, his combat helmet pinched between her grippers.

“Take this with you,” Eva said, thrusting it into his hands. “I want some way to monitor your vitals while you’re in there. If things go awry, if she starts threatening you in any way, I want to know about it.”

“I knew you liked eavesdropping, Eva, but this is uncanny.”

“I’ll put all the helmet sensors in low power mode, and filter out all other sounds except for my name,” she explained. “that way, I don’t have to listen to all the… noise, and should she try anything, you can warn me.”

“I can deal with that, sure,” Andreas said, tucking his helmet under an arm. “Alright, here goes nothing.”

“I’ll let you know when I’ve disabled the cameras,” Eva added. “And good luck. You’ll need it.”

He watched Eva slink back out into the hallway, then turned for the cell. With a sharp breath, he pulled open the mechanism, the door sliding open. A quick glacne through the window proved that Sharrya had pre-emptively waited at the far wall for his return.

“You took your time,” Sharrya said as he stepped through the threshold. “Not having last-second doubts, I hope?”

“Just had a little chat with Eva about the cameras,” he explained. “She shouldn’t be long.”

“I for one, am waiting with bated breath,” she cooed, striding across the cell towards him. There was a tempting roll to her hips, the muscles in her plump thighs flowing with each slow step. She was putting on a show for him, he knew that, but he was no less distracted by the display.

“What’s this?” she asked, looking at his helmet. “I hope you do not plan on wearing that during our deal, I want to look into your eyes while we rut.”

“Eva wants a substitute for the cameras,” he said, suppressing a blush at her sordid words. “If you try anything I’m supposed to call out her name.”

“Like a safeword. How cute.” She bent down, plucking the helmet from his hands, Andreas to slow to get it out of her reach. “There’s only one name you’ll be calling out, Andreas, I’ll see to that.”

She turned, placing the helmet in the far corner along with her discarded armour, her hindquarters rising into the air. That loincloth she wore was just like her sling, just adequate enough to preserve her modesty, but revealing enough to expose the underside of her generous rear.

Sharrya hesitated, then turned the visor slightly towards the corner. Maybe she thought there was a hidden camera in the faceplate, and she wasn’t wrong.

“There. I’ll allow her to listen if she’s so worried, but know that I won’t harm my little partner, machine,” Sharrya said, turning her bright eyes on Andreas. “He’s fragile, but I can make it work.”

“Fragile? Who’s the one who got put in a cell again?”

“Always so resistant. Please keep that up, Andreas, it’s been centuries since someone’s spoken to me with such strength before. Let’s not waste any time, remove your clothes.”

The combination of her overbearing presence and her authoritative tone almost made him do it on instinct, Andreas holding up a hand. “Hang on, Eva hasn’t disabled the cameras yet, just wait a second.”

“Then how about a little appetiser?” Sharrya suggested. “Let us find out if you taste as tough as you look. I want you to kiss me.”

“Kiss you? The deal was we were going to fuck.”

“You said you would, quote: let me have my way with you. That means I get to decide what that entails. Don’t pout, it’s your own fault you did not choose your words better.”

“Damned temptress,” he grumbled.

She walked over, planting a fist against the wall far above him, as though to demonstrate her vast height, Andreas swallowing as he met her gaze.

“Besides, does one simply rush to the main course, without first having a little tease of what’s to come?”

Her hot breath washed over his nose, his heartbeat making his ears pound. She was so big, so overwhelming, and he’d never felt so aware of it before, even when the two of them had fought tooth and nail back in the park. Maybe he’d bitten off more than he could chew…

He reigned these thoughts back in. He’d come out of that park the victor, and this was just another battle he had to go through, though on a far different scale of course.

He rolled his eyes, Sharrya giving him a knowing smirk as she sensed him relent. She made him come to her, Andreas reaching up to cup her chin from below, her flesh warm to the touch.

Her skull was twice the size of a human’s, but she let Andreas guide her closer, her eyes closing as their lips pressed together. She tasted of spice, her full, oversized lips sending tingled down his neck as they mashed with his comparatively cooler mouth. As mismatched as they were, Sharrya tilted her head at just the right angle, locking his lips within her own.

His chest constricted as the tip of her tongue brushed his lips, its texture softer than silk. She batted it against his teeth, silently demanding an entrance, and for the second time his body obeyed without pause, only he didn’t fight it now. A kiss was one thing, but with a tongue it was a whole other level he wasn’t about to cross, but the wires between his brain and his body weren’t working.

His reluctance was melted away beneath her hot organ, her tongue oozing into his mouth like a liquid, brushing at his inner cheeks and throat. His own tongue was burdened by its weight, his poultry muscle struggling to wrestle with this intruder, Sharrya giggling at his efforts. From the size of her, her tongue must be thrice as long as what he could feel, and it felt like she was pouring as much of its length into his mouth as she could.

His jaws bulged with her slick muscle, Sharrya gripping his collar with her free hand, becoming more aggressive with their kiss. His face flushed not just from the bawdy way she was handling him, but also from the heat. Everything about her was like a stove set to max, not reaching that threshold of being burning, but very close to it.

She held him like that until he ran out of breath, then for a few moments longer, breaking off with a wet, salivating smack, Andreas taking in a gulp of warm air. A strong of their combined drool linked their lips, Sharrya reaching up to wipe it away with the back of her hand.

“How I’ve longed to taste your mortal flesh,” she sighed, her eyes taking on a soft quality as she admired his features. “So squishy, but so wonderfully delicious. Give me more…”

She hovered an inch from his mouth, smirking when he waited for another kiss that never came. Instead she moved lower, sinking her teeth into his shoulder in a sudden bite. She didn’t apply enough pressure to break the skin, but he felt her razor fangs pinch him hard, a seed of fear growing in his stomach as she mouthed at the sore left behind.

She used her two upward-facing tusks to nibble at his skin, an unexpectant shock of pleasure rolling through him. He’d been bitten by partners before, but with teeth as big as hers, the sensation was equal parts terrifying and titillating.

“I’ve found a way through to you,” Sharrya cooed, her eyes flicking to his even though she lacked iris’. “Flames, claws, bullets, you can shrug all that off, but it seems a soft approach leaves you exposed.”

“E-Enjoy your fifteen minutes, idiot,” he said, struggling to compose himself. “Might help you forget I defeated you and your army yesterday.”

“It has been so long since someone’s had the nerve to address me like you have,” she replied. “Maybe you do have the strength to survive a night with a demon. Maybe,” she reiterated.

“Wait, tell me something,” Andreas said. “Before, you said centuries had passed, so just how old are you?”

Sharrya paused in her love-biting, poising below his chin as she thought.

“Hmm. How many hours in one of your days?”

“Twenty-four. And there’s three hundred and sixty-five days in a year.”

“That would make me… a little over three hundred of your standard years.”

“Three hundred?” he echoed. “Talk about being a MILF.”

“A what?”

Andreas opened his mouth to explain, when a single beep filled the room, the two turning towards its source. The mounted flashlight on his helmet flicked on, Eva’s tinny voice reaching out from the speakers.

“I’ve taken care of the cameras, but I’d ask that you conclude your… business in a timely manner, please. Someone’s bound to come check on one of you eventually.”

“We will take as long as I deem it necessary, robot,” Sharrya replied, turning her glowing eyes on the helmet. “Our love must be nurtured, savoured, if either of you want the information I have.”

“Whatever,” Eva replied uncomfortably. “You just keep those claws off the Seargent, if I see so much as a scratch on him, you’re finished.”

“You’re like a mother hen to my human,” Sharrya chuckled. “Perhaps you would like to come here personally and keep watch? I don’t fancy an audience, but if he means so much to you I could be persuaded to make an exception.”

“A-As if I would subject my sensors to… to biological mating!”

“But you’re the one who wanted that helmet in here with us, true? Something tells me you wouldn’t find the prospect intriguing, assuming you haven’t been spying on us already.”

“I have to go, someone’s asking me for… something,” Eva said, and then there was no more, the helmet’s speakers cutting off. Sharrya turned to Andreas, the Seargent shrugging up at her.

“What a strange sidekick you have. Now where were we? Oh yes.”

Sharrya grabbed him by the shoulders, pushing him against the wall as she brought her lips to his. Her kisses were so raw and impassioned, Andreas going light-headed as she shoved her tongue down his throat. Her tusks pinched his skin when he tilted his head to reciprocate, but the pain was an afterthought compared to her ravenous attentions.

Her claws plucked at his biceps, Sharrya feeling his muscles through the jumpsuit he wore. Sharrya’s long fingers moved over his neck, tugging on his collar. She put him in a daze with her hungry kiss, but he was snapped out of it when the sound of tearing fabric filled the room.

“Hey! Don’t rip my uniform you asshole,” Andreas snapped, their lips smacking as he separated from her, grabbing at her oversized fingers. He could just barely wrap his palm around a single digit.

“I’ve wanted to rip your clothes off for a long time, and that is exactly what I’ll do,” Sharrya cooed. “Unless, of course, we no longer have a deal?”

“Just let me do it, will you? How am I going to explain this to requisitions?”

“That’s your problem,” she replied, but she had the decency to let him roll up the sleeves, the Baroness practialy ripping his shirt over his head. She tossed it over her shoulder, then turned her attention to his exposed torso.

Life as special forces was demanding, and Andreas didn’t skimp out on keeping himself in top shape. He was heavily developed, with broad shoulders and muscles packed tightly together beneath his tanned skin, but even he didn’t hold a candle to a Baron. If Sharrya was disappointed in his bodyplan, then she didn’t show it, her lips curling as she admired him.

A touch of self-consciousness ran up his spine as she drank him in with her eyes for a solid minute, the silence only broken by his slightly rasping breathing. She hadn’t quite left him panting, but his heart was thumping harder than he would have liked to admit.

“So familiar, yet so alien and strange,” Sharrya mused, her head lowering to his chest. “Another commonality between Hell and Earth…”

“What am I, an art exhib… exhibit?”

When he tried to say exhibit, Sharrya’s lips sealed over his left nipple, pecking it with a kiss. The planted one on the other, the act sending butterfly ripples through him.

She worked her way down to his belly, alternating between soft pecks with her lips and tough bites with her tusks, the blend of pain and pleasure messing with his head. Her restrained hands remained on his shoulders all the while, Andreas sliding down the wall as she eased him lower. It was obvious she wanted him on his back, and even if he wanted to resist her (a growing part of him didn’t), he wasn’t strong enough to stay on his feet, his butt compressing against the ground.

“Good boy,” she said, kneeling between his legs, her breath warming his lap. “You just relax while I fulfill some… curiosities of mine.”

“This whole human thing you’ve got going on is crazy,” he said. “Do you get pervy with every alien you come across?”

“I’ve admired several other species before, but you’re the first to really capture me. Plus there is something to be said about your species. You are so small, so soft,” she said enunciating her point by running a claw down his ribs. “and with souls packed with mortal energy. You are like a toy I can have my way with.”

“And you’re like a dominatrix,” he rebutted, but the words sounded weak to his ears.

“I know not what that is, but I’ll assume it’s something about being controlled, dominated. It’s not so bad to resist me, Andreas, allow me to show you why…”

Her trailing hands reached his belt, her fingers slipping beneath his waistband. He complained again when she used her claws to slice the buckle off rather than undo it properly, his pants not escaping the same fate as she ripped open his fly, the zipper shooting into the air.

She tugged his pants down, exposing his briefs, her eyes lighting up at the noticeable bulge in his groin. “Ah ha,” Sharrya announed. “you’re playing the lying reluctant angle, aren’t you? That’s not an accusation, by the way, I so love it when you try to resist me.”

He grunted as she pressed her round thigh into his crotch, her flesh spilling over him like memory foam. She began making slow, up-and-down motions with her leg, the pressure causing Andreas to suck in a gasp. She was shoving him into the wall, putting her substantial bulk over his legs, Andreas feeling his ability to move slipping.

“You like my legs, don’t you?” Sharrya asked, keeping her thigh stroking in slow, circular motions. “I’ve seen you admire them, perhaps you’ve been looking forward to getting this close to them. You can touch them, you know.”

The fur covering from her waist down looked like the softest wool he’d ever seen, each brown strand conforming to her plump legs like a second skin, the illusion only shattered when she rubbed her flesh against his. It looked softer than a mink coat, Andreas almost reaching out to test their texture before he suppressed the urge.

“I’ll pass,” he muttered, Sharrya pouting.

“Must you be so prude? Humans touch each other when making love, don’t they? You want to touch me, Andreas, I can see it in your eyes.”

“This is a deal exchange, we’re not making love,” he replied, averting his gaze.

“Then I shall have to pick up the slack,” Sharrya said, her arms pathing down his torso, only the tips of her claws making contact. One of her hands grabbed him by the hip, the other delving below his waistband. Andreas winced when her fingers found his shaft, which was already masting thanks to her thigh, Sharrya shifting herself so she laid on his immediate left, one leg crossed over both of his.

Her smooth fingers wrapped around his cock, and Andreas yelped in alarm, remembering how scorching her raw skin was. He felt as though she’d just gripped him with a pair of tongs left in hot water. His skin wasn’t scorching, however, although it went very red very quickly.

“Geez, Sharray, run your hands under cold water or something,” he complained.

“I’ve tried, believe me,” she replied. “but the fires of Hell have made a lasting impression on me. It was difficult to get myself off the first few times, but I grew used to the heat. Just as you will, Andreas, I’ll see to that.”

Her grip firm, she began to slide her fingers up his shaft, pausing at his glans to give them an experimental prod. She figured out how sensitive they were thanks to the little noises he made, her poked turning to soothing strokes that left him disappointingly eager for more. He thought they’d just go at it a few rounds and be done with it, but she was killing him with the foreplay, and he wondered what the point of it was.

The demon slid down to his base, locking her forefinger and thumb in a ring of pressure that sent an electric jolt through his core. Her other digits creeped towards his sack, Sharrya’s eyes locking to them as she weighed them in her palm, giving him a testing squeeze.

“H-Hold on,” he whispered. “don’t crush my balls, Sharrya, or the deal’s off.”

She giggled at him. “That was an adorable little stutter, Andreas. Take away all your gear and armour, and you’re as fragile as a newborn…”

She dragged the flat of her tongue up her palm, giving Andreas a sultry look as she did. Her spit added a delightful layer of lubricant as she placed her hand on his crotch, pumping him with her hot hand. The restraints made it so she could only grab onto his thigh for support, Sharrya grumbling as she tested the limits of her range of motion.

Andreas slacked his neck, staring up at the whitewashed ceiling as pleasure coursed through his body. The demonic heat she emitted was making him sweat and irritated, but there was something to be said for it, the added sensation making him hyperactive, dialling up his senses to the max.

The minutes were blissful as Sharrya milked his shaft, adding just the right amount of pressure when she neared his base, then relieving it when she moved up to his glans. He could feel his climax creeping up on him like a bad thought, his spine arching as though his body demanded her to have more access.

“If only I did not have these shackles,” Sharrya mused, slowing herself down, as though she’d sensed him reaching his limits. “I could finally get all of my claws on you, show you how demons really make love.”

“Nice try,” Andreas replied, his voice breathless. “but the cuffs stay on.”

“I don’t think you realise what you’re denying,” Sharrya replied, leaning in until their noses touched. “I’ve put you on your back with just one hand, imagine what I could do with two,” she added, pumping him especially hard for emphasis. He couldn’t suppress the following grunt, Sharrya laughing as she saw his frustration.

“What would be the harm?” she pressed. “I am not getting out of this cell, restrained or otherwise, and it’s not as though they’re keeping me from touching you.” She grazed his cheek with her tongue, whispering into his ear: “I have centuries of experience, Andreas, far more than any of your prissy females. I can show you everything and more, you just have to let me.”

His heart skipped a beat, Andreas trying to look away, but Sharrya’s closeness made that impossible. The way her green eyes filled his vision made him feel like she was staring into his very soul – which was probably something she could do.

Releasing Sharrya didn’t sit right with him, but the cuffs were pretty much a formality at this point, the only person they were hampering was him, right? Eva would be screaming with rage that he was even considering her offer, and perhaps she’d be right to do so, but his monkey brain was just too persuasive to resist.

Sharrya released his cock, leaving his shaft sticky and bouncing in disappointment as she raised her arms to his chest, like she’d already known his decision before Andreas had made it. He turned her arms over to access the numeric keypad built on the top face of the shackles that controlled the electric locks. Since he’d put them on her, he knew the code, and after entering a string of numbers, their was an electrical hum, and the restraints split in two.

“I’m going to regret this,” Andreas said, Sharrya placing the cuffs aside and rubbing her wrists.

“Probably,” Sharrya agreed. “but allow me to distract you from your troubles…”

Her hand slid down his chest, his abdominals flexing at her touch. She wasted no time in returning her fingers to his rod, seizing him in both her palms. Her digits formed what felt like countless rings around his shaft, each one flexing with a slightly different amount of pressure. She wrenched her hands in opposing directions, the motion reminding him of how one rings out a cloth, Andreas shutting his eyes as a burst of raw pleasure shocked him.

He hadn’t been boasting when he’d told Eva his exes hadn’t complained about his skills as a partner, and he couldn’t remember being this sensitive before. Outside of a few rare cases it was him that had always taken the lead, and having that flipped back on him was driving him up the wall.

Closing his eyelids blocked some of the stimulation, but not very well, Andreas biting back a groan as Sharrya subjected him to her ruthless pumping. “I’ll give you that one,” he muttered. “Two is better than one.”

“You see?” she cooed. “Sometimes resistance isn’t as rewarding as the alternative…”

He felt one of her hands leave his shaft, her other taking up the slack in its absence. With his mind so focused on her handjob he didn’t even notice her fingers sneaking into his palm until moments later, her claws interlocking with his digits as she moved his hand to his chest. If he’d been told days ago he’d be holding hands with Sharrya he’d have called that person crazy, but being held like that wasn’t as bad as it should have been.

She placed his hand on his chest, then took hold of his other, bringing them together. He was about to ask her what she was doing, but he was cut off as a whirring noise rose to his ears, and a tightness sealed over his wrists.

His eyes flew open, and when he turned his gaze down, he saw the restraints had locked his hands together, Sharrya smirking at him as she lifted her hand away. He’d been so focused on her attentions he hadn’t even noticed she’d picked up the cuffs, his chest surging with panic.

“Sh-Sharrya? What are you doing?” he asked, even though it was obvious.

“I told you you would be mine one day,” Sharrya replied. “and now I finally have you secured.”

He tried to slip free of the shackles, but the rings were too narrow to slip his hands through. Cursing, he tried to stand, but Sharrya pinned him with her claws, swinging a leg over his waist and putting her weight on his legs. She didn’t crush him, but put just enough weight on him that he couldn’t move.

“I knew I would regret this,” he muttered. “This was your plan, huh? Talk about playing the fucking long game.”

“I’ve merely taken advantage of the situation, there is no long game,” Sharrya laughed. “You’re right to be suspicious, of course. Taking you prisoner would be the ultimate irony.”

“I’ll call Eva,” he warned.

“Why cut our fun short?” she asked. “You said you’re not going to touch me, therefore you do not need your arms. Our bargain still stands regardless.”

“I never agreed to be tied up,” he complained, Sharrya raising his arms above his head, and pinning them to the wall. The restraints were so heavy that when she let go, he didn’t have the strength to keep them raised, his arms falling behind his head.

“I am altering the deal,” Sharrya replied with a dismissive shrug.

“And I should pray you don’t alter it any further?” he prompted.

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s a line from an old movie, don’t worry about it.”

“You just love your movies, don’t you,” she chuckled. “Perhaps we should watch one while we consummate our bond.”

Andreas darted to the television in consideration, Sharrya chuckling at him.

“Ah, but then you wouldn’t give me your full attention, and I don’t want you distracted for what I am about to do.”

She crawled down his body, her shapely breasts rubbing along his torso like two water balloons. Although he was immobilised, he was sure by now that Sharrya didn’t wish to kill him, although that did little to quell the alarm inside his stomach. Being at the mercy of a demon would do that to even the bravest of humans.

Her palms settled on his knees as her snout came level with his groin, his legs disappearing beneath her nine-foot frame. She pursed her lips, blowing hot breath on his glans, giving him one of those stares that sent his heart fluttering.

“My mouth is far too good for your mortal flesh,” Sharrya said. “But I can think of a far better substitute.”

She reached down to her sling, gripping the underside of her makeshift bra. She peeled the leather fabric away, pausing with an enticing layer of underboob exposed, making sure Andreas was watching. The sling was straining against her bosom, making him wonder how it managed to contain her assets in the first place.

She raised it higher, two pink nipples coming into view, gravity forcing the rest of her boobs to spill free. They were bigger than volleyballs, the same shade of deep red like the rest of her. They squashed against his knees as she settled below his waist, Andreas feeling their softness through the fabric of his pants. They were as supple as jelly, and he felt the sudden urge to reach down to touch them, but his restraints put a halt to such impulses.

“My eyes are up here, Andreas,” Sharrya chuckled. “I see that even in this part of the Cosmos, males find them infatuating.”

“That’s cause they’re bigger than my fucking head, asshole,” he shot back. “How you haven’t done in your back is anyone’s guess.”

Her laughter made his chest shake, the demon moving down until her breasts were suspended over his lap. She gripped her boobs in her hands, her flesh spilling between her digits, spreading her cleavage wide.

She brought her chest down, Andreas eliciting a grunt as his member was consumed between the orbs of fat, Sharrya closing her cleavage together from either side. Like the rest of her skin, she was hot to the touch, but far softer than he would have believed, grazing his rod with all the delicacy of gelatine.

Andreas couldn’t see his cock, Sharrya’s breasts large enough to obscure it within its heated confines. Her assets conformed tightly to his genitals, conforming to his shape like a heavenly mould.

His mind was convinced it had been plunged into the heated loins of a lover, Andreas’ hips lifting in a desperate thrust. Her firm flesh quivered with the impact, their heavy weight meaning Sharrya barely moved an inch.

“Look at you squirm,” Sharrya cooed, rewarding him by squeezing her chest with her biceps, her flesh constricting around him. “Even in defeat I am capable of outmatching you.”

Sharrya bundled her chest in her arms, raising it up, then letting it fall down with a loud clap of flesh. It felt like an anvil had landed in his lap, Andreas lurching as he was assaulted by blissful tightness from all sides.

He strained against the cuffs as Sharrya began to rub her chest against him, pushing one forward while pulling the other back, alternating their directions to keep him guessing. It felt like she was crushing his member, but in a good way, his legs bucking against her stomach as he writhed on the floor, a notion that seemed to amuse the demoness without pause.

“Is my infernal heat too much for you to bear?” Sharrya asked, noting the beads of sweat on his brow. “Perhaps I know of a way to cool you down.”

Andreas watched as Sharrya turned her gaze to his member, licking her lips like a hungry wolf. He tracked a bead of her spit drooping from her tongue, the fluid landing on the top of her cleavage. He felt the cool strand touch his glans shortly after it disappeared, Sharrya opening her mouth wide to let more cascade between her boobs. It wasn’t long before her drool created a bubbling seal around his cock, its cool texture colliding with the exuberant heat coming off her.

Now each time she manoeuvred her chest, a wet squelching noise followed, the added lubricant making him slide against her delicate skin. Grinning, she wrapped an arm over his hips, copping a handful of his bum as she pulled him deeper.

From there she found a slow, heavy pace, switching between bouncing on his lap and swirling her flesh around him, Andreas forgetting where and who he was as he leaned back, relaxing into the blissful sensations. But couldn’t stop bucking up into her, but with all the restraints on his limbs, it was the only thing he could do in this compromising position.

Being shackled was like being hooked up to an electrical current, his frustration at being unable to move only matched by the new heights of pleasure he was reaching. So much stimulation was happening at once that his mind couldn’t keep tabs on it all.

“I take back what I said,” Sharrya suddenly said. “I wish to test your limits, Andreas. I’d tell you to hold on, but in your condition…”

She let her sentence linger, and just when he thought she’d finish it, she leaned down, and pushed her chest lower, his sensitive glans popping free of her bust. Sharrya wasted no time in sealing her pillowy lips around his foreskin, her tusks brushing his pubic hair. His eyes rolled back as her soft tongue lashed his flesh with quick flurries, her movements similar to when she had subjected him to that overpowering kiss.

The Baroness bent lower, taking his glans into her mouth, sliding down until half his length was sealed within her mouth. Her lips tightened in a ring, her tongue snaking out to constrict his head in a vice of soft flesh. Her breasts provided no resistance to her plunging snout, Sharrya keeping a tight hold on them as she lapped at the underside of his cock like she was licking a popsicle.

All Andreas could do was writhe below her bulk, and even then her weight made that difficult, the Seargent loosing a moan he had never made before in his life. Sharrya was just as startled, quirking a brow at him from above his crotch, her questioning look making him blush.

She began to cackle around his length, her deep, feminine voice working into what felt like every bone in his body. She resumed clapping her breasts over him again, simulating the feeling of a bouncing vagina, her tongue continuing to swirl and lap. It was too many sensations all at once, Andreas would go crazy if she kept his up for any longer.

“I may have to start calling you morsel again,” Sharrya laughed, pausing between licks to speak. “I want you to come for me, sweet Andreas, I wish to taste the essence of your offspring.”

He could feel his climax working its way to the forefront of his frazzled mind, Andreas too overwhelmed by it all to resist it. As much as he felt like he was being driven mad, there was a loud voice in his head pleading that this pleasure would never end, and he very nearly voiced this plea to Sharrya, but he stopped himself. That would be basically admitting defeat to her little game, and he’d die before letting that happen.

His oncoming orgasm first lingered, then flashed forward, Andreas tensing in preparation. Sharrya licked, twisted her bosom, bounced on his lap, but her eyes, those two glowing green fires never left his face, and they were so full of a controlling energy that they seemed to draw him in. Her gaze was full of hunger, but he swore he could see affection there. Why was that? Why was she giving him such glorious head and enjoying it, when the deal was to satisfy her needs? Maybe she really was trying to be his lover, and the doubt he felt in response to that disturbed him in its uncertainty.

All the muscles in his waist tensed, his hips pushing forward as though the bosom enveloping him was as welcoming as a womb, his length throbbing against her flesh. Sharrya’s eyes widened in alarm as the first wad of his ejaculate surged forth, splattering a rope of the pearly fluid across her snout.

She seemed to know what was happening, Sharrya compressing her tits tighter, and returning her soft lips to his glans. The next rope of his seed splashed against the roof of her mouth, all the soft, surrounding tightness seeming to force out his next emission. He contorted impotently against the floor as waves of euphoria reduced him to a panting mess.

Sharrya swallowed around him, over and over as if she had no lung capacity, the suction milking out another rope and another harsh pang of pleasure. It just wouldn’t stop. Each time his nerves dialled down, Sharrya would summon up another rope, filling the cell with her swallowing as she drank down everything he could give her.

What felt like hours passed before his dazing vision began to clear, and his erection jumped one last time, leaving him sore and satisfied. He looked down to see Sharrya smirking around his dick, beads of her spit and his fluids dripping down her chin to leave a mess on her cleavage.

“Such raw energy,” Sharrya moaned, a carnal look on her face as she wet her lips, using its long length to clean her features. “I feel as though I have feasted on a dozen souls…”

Making sure he was looking, she released her hold on her breasts, the orbs returning to their natural pert, teardrop shape. The inner sides were matted with his come, ropes of it bridging the two together, one breaking to fall to his belly.

“A little bit of tongue, and you’re on your back, panting,” Sharrya mused. “So easy.”

He watched her long tongue snake down, beginning to clean up his essence from her chest. She was like a drowning woman licking at droplets of dew, Andreas sensing a kind of desperation as she lapped up his essence, as she called it.

“If only I had done this to you earlier,” she mused, smacking her lips and releasing a refreshed ‘ah’. “Victory would surely have been mine.”

“B-But it’s not,” he breathed, trying to regain his senses. “You’re still a prisoner to us lowly mortals, that hasn’t changed.”

“Are you so sure about that? I could do anything I want with you right now, and you’d be hopeless to stop me.”

Her hindquarters rose up as she moved away a little, his length bouncing against her snout as she rested her chin on his thigh. She reached out, seizing him in her burning hand, his receding erection jumping in response.

“Maybe I should make you come in my hand next,” she mused, and despite having just climaxed, after a few pumps of her hand, he was already masting. “Have your essence link my fingers, over and over until you went mad with the pleasure. The great Seargent Andreas, reduced to a slave of my claws. And you’d enjoy every moment of it.”

Her gyrating hand slowed, Sharrya huffing like a bull.

“But devouring you like that would be boring, as well as detrimental. I have grown tired of slaves, although I won’t deny how satisfying it is in seeing you struggle.”

“Gloat all you want, I still beat you on the field.”

“And are victors decided by who strikes the first blow? Cling to the past all you want, Andreas, but you’re the one who has finished first.”

“If I wasn’t in these cuffs, that’d be a different story.”

“Oh?” she asked, shimmying up his body, resting her knees beneath his armpits as she mounted him. Her loincloth draped over his thighs, her hidden genitals coming tantalisingly close to his. “How bold. You think you can satisfy me?”

“That’s up to you to find out.”

She considered him for a long moment. “You will touch me, correct?” she asked, anticipation swimming in her eyes.

“Yeah, whatever,” he said, trying to sound less pleading than he really felt. “just let me out of these things.”

She giggled like a kid on Christmas morning, struggling to contain her excitement as she reached for his restraints, Andreas liking that expression on her. She bent over him, her breasts dangling over his face as she grabbed his wrists, bringing her claw to the keypad.

“Code,” she said, and he told her. The shackles popped open, relief surging inside him as blood flow returned to his digits. Once more she placed the restraints aside, coincidentally leaving them within arms-reach. Andreas pushed them away with his foot, Sharrya putting a claw to her lips and giggling mischievously.

“What’s the matter? You looked good in chains,” she said. “All panting and red-faced. One would think you liked being- Ah!”

He had wasted no time in bringing his hands to her chest in an audible clap of flesh, the gentle flesh of her breasts quivering beneath his fingers. He tried to gather them up in his palms, but they were so voluminous that they just spilt out of his grip, deforming around his hands like dough.

Her gasp tapered into a moan, then settled into a growl as she pinched her eyes shut. “Fool,” she breathed. “don’t be so harsh with them!”

“Who’s panting now, huh?” he shot back, Sharrya still holding her eyes shut, which might have been on purpose. His biceps flexed as he tried to lift one up, its weight rivalling that of a lead ball. He resorted to kneading them, the way her bosom jiggled with rippled, always bouncing back into their perfect shape, their very size – all of it combined to kindle a passion he hadn’t felt in a long time.

He kept telling himself, as he groped and played with her chest, that it was for the good of mankind, that this was just a means to get information out of her and nothing more, ye the fact he was enjoying himself was becoming harder to deny than ever.

Despite her warning, he worked her chest with a renewed dedication, her soft flesh melting around his hands. He was being rough, far rougher than he would have been with a human woman, but if Sharrya could take a particle cannon to the face and live, she could handle some roughhousing.

It was the demon’s turn to make embarrassing noises, her growls and mewls reaching his ears, despite her attempts at biting them back.

He surprised her (and himself) by placing his tongue between her breasts, the taste of her sweat burning his tastebuds. He dragged it down to the left, outlining her bosom with a wet smear, Sharrya experiencing a minute shiver. He slowly rotated up towards her nipple, the pink protrusion a shade lighter than the rest of her fiery hide. He kneaded her other breast as he drew closer to it, placing a gentle kiss upon it.

“I knew you liked them,” she chuckled, but her confidence faltered when he sealed his lips around her nipple, biting down on it. She pushed her bust out in invitation, her hands sneaking round his neck to hold him closer.

He clamped down his jaw, deepening his bite, his roughness rewarded by another high-pitched moan from the demon. He knew he couldn’t hurt her with his dull teeth, her demonic nature meaning he could push boundaries that wouldn’t be possible with a human.

She chewed down until he felt his teeth leave little furrows, then relented by lashing out with his tongue, suckling on her nipples, the colliding sensations making Sharrya wriggle over him.

“Oh!” she breathed, pinching her other nipple as he continued to mouth and lick. “It seems you’re not so d-discouraged by my looks after all. Oh, like that. Yes…”

He wanted to get a word in, taunt her about how she was now the one making the little noises, but having a mouthful of her perfect chest made that impossible. This wasn’t him trying to please her, of course, this was just him paying her back, make sure she was satisfied by this deal of theirs. Anything for the mission…

He made to resurface for air, Sharrya pinning him down for a few moments longer before allowing it, the demon flicking a carnal grin his way.

“Here I was thinking you had a sharp tongue,” she cooed. “but you can be oh so delicate when you want to.”

“Why don’t you get on your back, and you’ll see how delicate I can be.”

“My back?” she echoed. “I am Baroness of the Shattered Peaks, to lay back is to admit weakness, defeat.”

“If you can’t handle a bit of mortal foreplay, that’s your call,” he said, feigning disinterest.

“Given these…. special circumstances, perhaps I can overlook such a transgression,” she replied, meeting his look with a challenging grin.

The tension on his body lifted as Sharrya rolled away, tucking her elbows into the nook where the floor meets the wall, propping herself up. From this angle she was so long, almost taking up half the cell’s length from hooves to horns.

He approached her like a rider coming up on a wild horse, shuffling over on his knees. They were past hostilities by this point, but he still felt the need to tread lightly nevertheless. Andreas admired the way her flat stomach transitioned into her flared hips, her voluptuous profile as curvy as a meadow ridgeline.

Andreas mounted her leg like it was a fallen log, fingers sinking up the knuckle into her downy fur. The luscious coat was far less course than it looked, the strands blooming across her strong legs in all directions at once, its texture rivalling cotton. Perhaps they didn’t have combs in Hell, giving her an untamed, wild look, which wasn’t bad in his book.

His hands couldn’t resist running up and down her thigh, taking in the fur’s silky touch. It was insulating him from the infernal heat coming off her, allowing him to appreciate her even further, his secret desire to touch her getting the better of him.

“I see you waste no time running your hands over me,” Sharrya mused from seemingly far away. “Not that I don’t understand why. You may be the first mortal ever to get a chance to do so to a Baroness. Savour it, savour me.”

Blushing that she’d called him out, he continued over her leg, depositing himself before her lap. Her legs ran along either side of him like atomic warheads, enveloping him in heat and flesh, her knees slightly bent upwards.

“Come,” Sharrya cooed, a hand falling to her nethers and patting in invitation. “Let us consummate our love.”

She must have thought his request was his way of asking to bring things along to their conclusion, but Andreas thought otherwise. The quick climax she’d brought him to had left him spent, he needed time to recuperate. Plus, giving Sharrya a taste of her own medicine wouldn’t hurt either.

He resisted looking to her nether regions, turning his eyes instead to her thighs. They rivalled his torso in terms of size, and when he snaked his arm around one, his cocked elbow couldn’t even form a full loop, her meaty flesh bulging beneath his limb. He couldn’t help but bring his cheek to her downy fur, curling his head to plant a kiss on her inner thigh. Although not quite as soft as her chest, the fur made up for that in droves, and the muscles beneath the coat formed a pleasing barrier of toughness that rose up to meet his questing fingers.

Humans were sensitive on the inner thighs, and it seemed Barons were too, Sharrya taking in a shaky breath as he fought through her fur to her skin, his breath making her fur pull and push in regular strokes. He moved to the other leg, gripping her from below the knee to ply at her sensitive skin, Sharrya helping him along by raising her leg and allowing him access.

“That tickles!” Sharrya laughed when he introduced his tongue, though it was more sultry than humorous. Andreas responded by doubling down, lashing through her coat and getting at the skin beneath. It was almost pink, he saw, as raw as the forgotten side of a tan line. “You devious little mortal,” she growled. “Must your tongue be so soft?”

“You said I was easy, but you should look in the mirror,” he said, Sharrya breathing hard as she met his gaze, her wobbling chest distracting him. “Sharrya of Shattered Peaks, made into a mess by a lowly human’s mouth in two seconds flat.”

“I am allowing you to do this,” she snapped. “I could put you back in those chains just like that.”

“Do it, then,” he said. She made to say something, but he kissed her thigh again, and whatever it was drowned out beneath a mewling grumble. She was enjoying every second of this, and her attempts at denial were really firing him up.

She seemed unusually receptive down here, her hooves scraping along the floor behind him as his mouthing sent shocks down her body. Maybe Baron’s didn’t get so touchy-feely when they got it on, an image he never imagined himself trying to picture.

Soon enough, he brought his attentions upward, his hands wandering up to her waist next. He settled one palm on her hip, admiring its flared shape for a moment, then skirted her mound with the other. Her fur ended in a rough line here, giving her the appearance that she had a carpet of woolly pubic hair.

He palmed the place her entrance should have been, but felt no blemished in her fur, going over it again with his brow creased. Sharrya cooed happily as he explored, but eventually she realised what he was trying to do, her voice reaching him in a whisper.

“A little lower. Here.”

She took his hand into her own, guiding him towards a spot between her legs. She plunged her claws into her coat, Andreas watching as she used her index and them to part the coat, revealing a flush set of lips. He half-expected her to have far more alien anatomy, but there was nothing out of the ordinary here, save that the size of her lips was a little larger than what he was used to seeing. That had to be expected given she was skirting ten feet.

Her coat walled her labia with a furry perimeter, leaving her lips smooth and very red, the skin here returning to her usual hue. Holding her fur apart with one hand, he guided his head closer, his cheeks tickled by the strands. If he thought she was giving off heat before, she was practically boiling down here, her nethers like an oven he’d just stuck his head into.

He planted a single, doting kiss on her entrance, his lips flush with hers. A growl built up in the Baroness’ throat, her hips swaying from side to side. He held himself there to make her think he’d give another, but then pulled away, his nose skirting her mound as he pecked at her washboard stomach next.

The line of her coat ended here, giving way to a flat stomach that would put even the most hardcore bodybuilder to shame. The bottom set of her abs were liked two stones carved from obsidian, with defined dimples and sculpted with veins. The twin rows travelled up her body like rivers of liquid muscle, carving channels that could fit the tip of his fingers perfectly.

He kissed her between her momentous six-pack, another on her sternum, then on her nipples, their genitals lining up for a scant second before he pulled a knee onto her belly for balance.

“How do I fare to a mortal woman?” Sharrya asked, closed eyes parting just enough so she could watch him work. “Demons are harbingers of power, destruction, death, but that makes me all the more alluring to you, doesn’t it? Fear and desire go hand-in-hand, after all…”

His hand creeped towards her nethers, Andreas caressing the finer strands of fur ringing her opening. A bead of her juices wet his fingertips, the demoness dripping with desire. Not one to waste time, Andreas pressed his index greedily into the cleft of muscle, grimacing as her anticipation literally cooked his fingertip. She always seemed to get even hotter with each next part of her body he explored, and it never ceased to catch him off guard. He remembered someone telling him that his fingerprint layer was only a millimetre deep, and Sharrya would burn it off if he wasn’t careful.

He pressed his digit in up to the first knuckle, Sharrya throwing her head back and snorting like a bull in heat, the comparison helped along by her upswept horns. Two opposing walls of muscle viced around him, softer than the legs he was currently resting on. Plunging onto the second knuckle, her walls became sopping wet, though they still kept a deathly grip on him.

Andreas’ heart began to beat faster as a maw of bristles glanced his digit, the texture of her passage shifting as he drew into the beginnings of her tunnel. His mind’s eye conjured up images of thumb-sized tongues, travelling down her shrinking depths in concentric rings. Like moths to light, they seemed drawn to this foreign intruder, his digit soon lost in a nest of pliant, stroking muscles.

He curled his finger and found it took an effort, Sharrya’s passage clamping down on him as he glanced her most sensitive flesh. Seeing the demon scrunch up her eyes was very satisfying. She was swinging her hips, trying to keep in time with his stroking finger, a demonic growl that would have been intimidating under different circumstances building in her throat.

“You’re shivering like this is your first time or something,” Andreas pointed out. “It is, isn’t it?”

“Be quiet,” she muttered. “Baron’s cannot do such… eccentric things with their claws.”

“Eccentric, like this?” he asked, introducing another finger. Her exaggerated portions meant there was plenty of room, though that wasn’t to say she was loose. Her powerful core made her far tighter than appearances would convey, and he couldn’t piston his fingers without considerable effort.

“Yes!” Sharrya growled, her voice cracking.

“Sounds like mortal’s have a one up on you,” he added, leaning down to kiss her pillowy thigh.

“There is something to be said for such meekness,” Sharrya said. “You can get into all the right places easily.”

“The only one meek here is you,” he said, curling his fingers and getting her to croon again. She averted her eyes, refusing to talk back. Although her cheeks were permanently red, he could tell how flustered she was, the emotions hidden behind a veil of denial. Sharrya could be pretty cute when she wasn’t being a genocidal warlord.

He couldn’t quell his urge to bring his lips to her mound pecking her dangerously close to her lips. His mouth was scorched by this point, but he didn’t care, the prospect of bringing her to climax outweighing his apprehension. This was all for the deal, of course, he had to make her feel good purely for the sake of saving the country – that’s what he kept telling himself.

Sharrya watched him intensely as he glanced her nethers, orbiting her delicate labia with his tongue, a sultry moan reaching his ears as he covered those lips with his in an uninhibited kiss. Her fur tickled his nose as he plunged deeper, Sharrya meeting it by raising her hips off the floor. The fatty layers of her thighs squashed around his shoulders as she tensed, her body circling in time with his twitching fingers.

Her taste was like spiced cider, the liquid dripping to his chin as her liquid excitement rose up to meet his questing tongue, his cock experiencing a jealous twitch. She was so receptive, always moving one way or the other, her claws digging into the cold tiles as she struggled to keep her hands still, Andreas going wide-eyed as her claws dug inches into the concrete.

“Please,” Sharrya whined. “Please, like that. Oh by the Maykyrs….”

Andreas rose from her crotch like a diver surfacing for air, giving her an odd look. “Hold on, did the great Sharrya just say please? Has Hell frozen over as well?”

“Silence, mortal,” she grumbled, and reached down a hand. She took hold of his hair, and plunged him back to her groin without another word, holding him there in a silent demand, one Andreas obliged with a chuckle. She held him like that as he cored her out, her claws catching on his scalp, her grip gently relaxing when she saw he wasn’t going anywhere.

His nose brushed against a bead of skin, her clitoris drawn out from all the pleasure consuming her. The slimy bud was about twice as large as a human’s, and he took advantage of the surface area, mashing his tongue against its slimy surface.

Her back flexed in an astounding arch, Sharrya biting her lip as she shifted, her teardrop breasts swaying with her endless movements. Her twisting core, her flexing abs, it was like his tongue was music and she was dancing to its tune.

Her thighs slid over his shoulders, Andreas trapped in a pocket of infernal flesh. She let him up for air for only scant moments before encouraging him down again. She could have crushed his skull with those thighs, could have forced him down with her hand, but her hold on his was restrained, gentle. If he didn’t know any better he’d say she was being considerate of his mortal limitations. She really was treating him like a lover.

Taking greedy handfuls of her hips, he pursed his lips around her bud, Sharrya unable to hold back a growl as he lashed it with his tongue. He was sweating bullets thanks to her radiating heat, the scent of their mingled love permeating his nose.

Sharrya was beside herself, her enticing chest rising and falling in deep thrums of breath as he pinched her clitoris with his teeth, drawing random shapes on its rounded surface with his organ.

“Just as I dreamed it,” she muttered, her rump rising off the ground as he reapplied pressure with his soaking fingers.

“What?” Andreas asked, his lips stringy with her excitement as he rose up a little. “What did you say?”

“Nothing,” she quipped. “I am so very close, do not get distracted now.”

She went to place her hand on his head, but Andreas went willingly, redoubling his prior efforts. Sharrya met his plunging tongue by rising her hips, fucking his face and snarling like a needy beast.

“It has been so very long,” Sharrya whispered. “I need this Andreas, I need this. I-”

Her breath caught in her throat, Sharrya doubling over as a terrible seizure rocked her, the first throws of her orgasm coming to the forefront. Her spine bent in a perfect arch in one last thrust, her clawed hands digging deeper into the hard floor as she held on for dear life. Andreas watched in alarm as twin balls of fire bloomed in her palms, painting his and Sharrya’s sweating forms in ghastly green hues.

Her body quaked and twitched as she lost herself in her climax, the meat of her thighs sealing over his head, as though she were afraid he might pull away, but that was the last intention on his mind. He kept up his licking and pinching, making sure to draw out every pang of pleasure, in the hopes that he could be the one gloating over her this time around.

One last kiss, and her loins ceased their twitching, Sharrya breathing deeply as she reclined on the floor. He lifted one heavy thigh from his shoulder, peering over her mound to see the demon watching him back, her green eyes full of gloomy desire. She tracked the strings of her juices dangling from his chin, yet their sight did not disgust her, Sharrya reaching down to stoke his cheek in a way that sent his heart fluttering.

He prepared a seething comment, but before he could make it, she cocked her knees, pinching his waist with her hooves. With all the finesse of a gymnast, she brought him up her long body and into her waiting arms, her claws coming down to caress his hair and back.

Without warning, her lips met his in a ferocious kiss, and if she was bothered by her taste on his mouth, then she didn’t show it. The way she forced herself into his throat was like nothing he’d ever experienced, it made him feel small, vulnerable to her, yet so pleasurable at the same time.

He did his best to meet her kiss, twisting in her arms, his eyes drooping shut as her pliant tongue coiled between his cheeks. It was too much to look her in the eye – her gaze went straight into his soul, those green eyes promising vulnerability and passion on a whole other level.

She pulled away with a wet smack, as breathless as he was, her hands falling to loop over his waist. “You show as much dedication in the bedroom as you do in the battlefield,” she chuckled.

“It’s not a bedroom,” he replied, his mind hazy.

“Be silent and hug me, my little mortal.”

Spooning wasn’t part of the deal, he was about to say, but when she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, it felt too good to turn her down. His resistance crumbled, and he reached beneath her shoulders, returning her embrace as he settled his cheek in her bountiful cleavage. He was getting used to her fervour, her body reminiscent of a heated mattress he could fall asleep on right then and there.

“That quick tongue of yours takes me by surprise once more,” she whispered, bringing her head to his and nudging him with her horn. It was an oddly intimate gesture, perhaps demons did that as a show of affection or dominance.

“You look like you needed that,” he said, noting her satisfied expression. “So that’s it, right? I gave you head, now you give me information?”

“Patience, mortal, we haven’t even gotten to the main course of our feast,” she replied. “Allow me a moment to recover, then we shall conclude this transaction of ours.”

Andreas was still a little sore himself, so he lay down on her again, Sharrya giggling and holding him close. The prospect of sticking his cock inside her made his head spin with fantasies he wouldn’t be caught dreaming of, his member twitching in anticipation, a fact that didn’t pass Sharrya by.

“You long to mate with me, don’t you?” she cooed, stroking his scalp, her claws sending shivers down his neck. “Mankind would deny their sinful urges even with their dying breath, but you? You are enthralled by the indulgence I offer. Such a debased act of Sin would mark you a heathen to all others.”

“I’m not partial to all this religious crap,” Andreas grumbled. “I’m just after those nest locations.”

“But you enjoy me, I saw it in those adorable little expressions of yours,” she whispered, leaning forward and pushing her forehead to his, her fiery eyes filling his vision. “And those noises! I hope for your sake this cell really is soundproof.”

“What about you?” he shot back. “You sounded like a monkey in heat when you begged me to eat you out.”

“I-I did not beg!” she stuttered. “And never say otherwise, or I’ll put those restraints back on you.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to ruin your image or whatever,” he said. “Sharrya begs a mortal for head while held captive’, that wouldn’t’ go down well in Hell’s newspaper.”

“That does it, if you won’t be silent, I’ll just have to make you quiet.”

Before he knew what was happening, the Baroness rolled him over, reaching out her clawed hands to grapple him. She was playfighting with him, giggling like a schoolgirl as she rolled him over, and Andreas would be lying if he didn’t like playfighting her back, chuckling in frustrated amusement as the demon acted in a very un-demon-like way.

Her thighs gripped his sides as she placed him on his back, subduing him with her obscene weight, her lengthy knees tucking beneath his armpits. Her hanging breasts shifted as she adjusted herself atop him, swinging like mesmerizing pendulums.

Peering at him over her chest, she brought her head over his, aiming a nipple for his mouth, one he latched on to the second it came within reach.

“This should sh-shut you up,” Sharrya grumbled, but it was her who went quiet when his teasing licks and nibbles sent her into a trance, his very tongue bewitching her. Like liquid, her breasts melted around his face and chest, burying him in hot, velutinous flesh.

His wandering hands cupped her wherever he could reach, his fingers sliding on a layer of his own sweat, leaving smears on her pink skin. She was all fat and muscle, distributed in all the most enticing of ways, Sharrya the perfect blend of death and beauty. He groped her filled-out hip, feeling her iron muscles flex beneath the layers of blubber that gave her that alluring outline he had secretly admired from the day he’d met her.

“You cannot resist running your hands over me, can you?” she asked, but not in a mocking way. There was an underlying embarrassment in her words, and he remembered what she had told him of her youth, of how she was teased and humiliated by her peers, and he felt a pang for the demon sting his chest. “So affectionate,” she cooed. “feel every part of me, I want you making mental maps of my body before the day is through.”

“Kind of hard not to, the way you’re all over me like a housecat,” he said, the mere feel of his breath on her nipple making her shudder.

“If I want you on your back, beneath me, then that is where you shall be,” Sharrya reiterated, glaring down at him. Her gaze lost its venom when he laughed up at her, the demon cocking her head.

“You’re pretty cute when you’re pissed off and turned on at the same time,” he said, taking handfuls of her bosom from below.

“I-I am not-” she stammered, taken back for a second. “Never use that word around me again.”

“What, turned on?”

“That’s two words, fool. Do not refer to me as ‘cute’ again. I have a reputation to uphold, I cannot have you blemishing it further with these unseemly accusations.”

“You’re not upholding shit,” he replied. “I’ve heard you moan in a dozen different pitches, and that’s all I’ll remember you by.”

“And what of you?” she shot back, placing her hands on his shoulders. “I have seen you bite you squirm and bite your lip as though you were untouched by a woman.”

To illustrate her point, her hand snaked along and seized his throat, her long fingers wrapping all the way around. She didn’t choke him, but held him just enough to let him know who was in control here, Andreas gulping down a lump with some effort.

She leaned down, her tits squishing against his chest as she delivered another uninhibited kiss, Andreas finding himself enthralled by her roiling tongue. She peeled away, their mingled saliva dribbling down their chins as she hovered over his nose.

“Enough of this windup,” she said, still gripping his neck as she lifted away on her sinewy torso. “I’m going to wring you of everything you have. You may have defeated me on the field, but wringing you of your essence until you’re battered and bruised will more than make up for this setback.”

He couldn’t voice a reply, as Sharrya had raised her rump and took hold of his member, her warm hands taking him by surprise. Her knees on the ground, her manoeuvred herself until her hips settled on his, the weight of her ass jostling on his knees. She placed his member straight before her lips, her furry coat ticking his underside. She pressed her vulva against it, Andreas grunting as her juices draped it in a syrupy coat.

She traced one of his veins with her claw, holding him like that for a while. He was almost ready to plea her to hurry it along when her patience ran out first, Sharrya guiding his glans towards her wet labia.

There was a ring of resistance, and then Sharrya forced him inside her, her muscled walls sealing around him. She was far tighter than her size would have him believe, her folds clenching over his rod as the baroness seized up, feeling the odd shape of his organ pierced her privates. She twisted her hips, shimmying down his length one inch at a time, like she was trying to force a screw through a hole that was a little too small, each cocking of her waist making him dizzy with pleasure.

When her velvet insides wrapped around his base, Sharrya taking him all the way to the hilt, his breath came out in a gasp, Andreas’ hips rising of their own accord, but Sharrya was too heavy that the effort was mute, her thighs clamping down on him as he flexed inside her.

“There it is,” Sharrya breathed, opening her legs to give him a beautiful view of their coupling. Her red flesh contrasted with his tanned skin, barely a sliver of his cock visible from this angle as she trapped it within her sleeve. “To be so depraved as to mate with a demon. Is it as good as you hoped, Andreas?”

“You’re the one who went all starry-eyed when I offered to fuck you,” he pointed out. “How can you get more desperate than-”

“Silence,” she grumbled, clenching down on him, her muscled insides no less developed than her body. “you want that information you’ll choose your words carefully.”

“I think you like it when I talk back,” he said, flinching when her twitching insides caressed him in just the right way. “You’re bored of everyone doing what you tell them, and I’m just a breath of fresh air.”

“Perhaps,” she said, not elaborating further.

Her body temperature on the inside was far higher than the outside, those slippery walls cooking his member into a boiling pocket of heaven, for lack of a better word. Her creasing insides flexed in rhythmic waves, dragging him deeper, and her already narrow tunnel constricted around his glans. She was built like a thumbscrew, squeezing him harder the more she drew him in.

Biting back a gasp, Andreas held onto her hips in the hopes of bracing himself, her blubbery flesh spilling through his fingers. He took greedy handfuls of the base of his spine, admiring the little arch it made, sliding down to her shapely rump. He’d have loved to admire her ass from behind, the thing was shaped like a peach and simply gigantic, but Sharrya wanted him on his back now, just like she’d said. He could still get a sense of it with his hands, however. They were like two balls of memory foam, jutting out and completing her hourglass shape when viewed from the front. They were so pert that when he squeezed, hard steely muscles pressed back with equal firmness. He could have thrown a coin at her ass and it would have bounced right back.

There was so much of Sharrya around him that he really didn’t know where to feel her next – not that anything above her stomach was within reach. Her giant form rose over him, making him feel like a mouse caught in the grip of a ginormous cat, one with a hunger that wasn’t quite literal, or at least he hoped not.

“How you writhe,” Sharrya cooed, Andreas feeling her chuckle vibrate through their coupling. “It is you who are the cute one, Andreas. You’re as red as my skin!”

“Fuck you,” he snarled, gasping when Sharrya gave her hips a cruel twist, her flesh spinning around his cock.

“You most certainly are,” she chuckled. “I’m going to ruin you for human women. You’ll be craving for immortal pussy until your dying breath.”

She brought her hips upward, her glans raking across her walls on the way out, the two of them sharing a shudder at the shared sensation. She may have been a demon, but she seemed to be enjoying this just as much as he was. When only his glans were still inside her, she slammed back down on him, her cheeks clapping against his thighs loudly.

Andreas would have doubled over if not for her weight, the breath leaving his lungs in a heave. The explosion of pleasure made him dizzy, his mind only registering her raising her hips once more a few seconds later.

“Not so hard, you asshole,” he said. “I need my bones intact, thank you very much.”

“Poor thing, what happened to your confidence?” she asked, working into a slow, heavy rhythm, pausing at her peaks to make her coming down all the more intense.

Buried in the heat of her vulva, Andreas could not form a reply, gripping at her thighs and ass as he laid back to enjoy the sensations assaulting him. Just like her throat, her nethers were latching onto the very shape of his member, conforming and kneading. He lurched when those bristles he had explored before introduced themselves, running along his shaft like a hundred tiny tongues, all working independently of the other to lick and drag him deeper into her love tunnel.

He felt more like he was making love to a beast than a thinking being, Sharrya impaling herself on him as though intending to drive the air from his lungs. Her overwhelming size, her inhuman presence, her sheer power and strength, it all added up to a savage experience the kind of which he’d never felt before.

“Are you nearing your limit already?” Sharrya asked, alternating her deep thrusts with slow rocks of her hips, driving him into every nook and cranny of her vent. “Shall I – oh! – shall I finish you off, or pity you just this once? Oh, what to do…”

“Sounds like you’re just as close as I am,” he noted.

“Your shape is not what I’m used to,” she replied, her breath quickening. “That ridge along the top, there, it drives me crazy…”

“You were already crazy,” he said. Sharrya wasn’t far off the mark, he could feel his climax nearing, her cruel pace catching him by surprise, a rising need generating in his loins.

Sharrya paused on her next downward fall, gravity doing most of the work for her as she settled on his hips. She didn’t lift herself off again, rather she kept perfectly still, smirking at him as he tried to hide his disappointment, that buildup in his genitals receding in the following stillness.

“Let us not end things too quickly,” she cooed. “This is but the first bout, and it deserves to be savoured.”

She placed her hands on his knees, staring at the ceiling as she let his member stew inside her, transitioning from pumping her hips to rocking them. Just as when she walked, she anchored her hips to the left and right, using his cock to stir her insides in new and exciting places. Her movements were small, managed, never enough to bring him closer to release, but just enough to tease him and keep him hard as a rock.

He covered his face in one hand, Sharrya giggling as she began to pump him again, only to switch back to slow sways of her hips when she sensed his rising need. She was playing him like an instrument, staring into his soul with those predatory eyes. It was humiliating, and he was loving every second of it.

He had to occupy himself, Andreas swearing he’d go crazy from this borderline torture. He turned his attention to their coupling, seeing her engorged clitoris poking out from her entrance. He reached out and pressed his thumb against it, Sharrya growling in appreciation as he drew slow circles over it.

His other hand moved up to caress her flat belly, his nails pricking at the faded scars and bullet wounds streaking up her torso like island chains. A lifetime of war had left their mark on her body, left there by weapons that were far beyond his mortal understanding. Some of these wounds had been made by his own hand, he remembered, Andreas smirking as he realised he had gone from killing her to copping a feel. The Cosmos has a strange sense of humour.

He turned his palm towards her chest, Sharrya surprising him by bending double to allow him to reach her bosom. It would have been well out of reach otherwise.

Her insides seized wonderfully around him as he pinched a nipple, both hands burning with her heat as he rubbed and stroked her sensitive points. His core flexed as he rose in a sit-up motion, bringing his lips to her clavicle and showering her in kisses.

Sharrya froze up, her hips going still, yet not for her prior reasons to keep him wanting more. He insides spasmed as he kept up his pinching and stroking, focusing on all her erogenous points at once, the onslaught of sensations too much for even the Baroness to handle.

“S-Such vigour,” Sharrya said shivering when he pinched her boob in his teeth. “I thought I was to have my way with you, not the other way around…”

She hadn’t said that as a compliment, but as a surprise, a sliver of teeth exposing in a bright smile, its warmth complimented by her rosy cheeks. Such a happy expression shouldn’t belong on a demonic entity, but Andreas found his stomach swimming with butterflies the more he looked at it.

He kept up his attentions on her magnificent breasts, faltering a little when Sharrya began to rock her hips again, only this time she kept her pace steady, consistent, her chuckles tapering into moans as she scraped him against her silken walls.

They were both sweating as though baking under a hot summer’s sun, every inch of her body he touched covered in moisture, Andreas likewise soaked through. Sharrya clawed at him like a monkey, one arm wrapping over his waist, the other over his shoulders, pressing him deeper into her cleavage as though fearing he might separate from her, as though Andreas would ever consider the prospect, surrounded by soft, demonic flesh as he was.

There was just enough leeway that he could rise up to meet her thrusts, Sharrya morphing into steady bounces on his cock, the bursts of pleasure coming in raw, harsh instances. The scent of their sex was thick in his nose, their mingled sweat dripping to her furry legs and leaving stains on the tiles below. It was a raw, uninhibited scene that Sharrya was giving herself into without thought, Andreas throwing away all reservations and joining her willingly.

Hands and claws groped at skin, pinching and caressing wherever they could, Andreas unable to keep track of where all these sensations were coming from, his mind clouded in a haze. Sharrya was so lithe despite her brawn, her core anchored to her hips as she twisted like a dancer, lodging his cock deep into her tunnel. Her heavy breaths blew his hair back in short rasps, the demon tucking his head beneath her chin.

“Not gonna keep this up for much longer,” he muttered into her chest.

“Nor can I,” Sharrya breathed. “Do not fight it, just this one time. Pour all your essence into me and hold nothing back.”

His dick throbbed at her sordid words, Sharrya cooing in appreciation at this sudden flex. Her flexing clitoris pumped up and down his rod like a slimy nub, each of her powerful thrusts plunging him into her soft depths. He could feel bruises blooming over his pelvis, but like the rest of their intimate encounter, the mingled pain and pleasure was a sweet torment he wished would never end.

“Look me in the eyes,” she muttered, cupping his chin. “I want to see your face when you try to sire my offspring, so I may never forget such a moment.”

Andreas didn’t have a choice in the matter, Sharrya’s grinning visage filling his entire view as she pushed her forehead to his. The way she looked him in the eye was all it took to send him over the edge, Andreas gripping her wobbling hips as his crotch seized up, the first spurt of his seed spilling into her intimate depths.

Sharrya snorted like a bull, the sound shifting into a groan as his hot load splashed against her tunnel in a violent wave, her bottom lip trembling. Her vent contracted around him as the demon’s own orgasm followed through not long after, Andreas swearing he could feel his waist being pulled forward as her bristled walls flexed and moved.

It was as though his very energy was pouring into her through his cock, exhaustion demanding he lay his cloudy head down, but a clawed hand on his shoulders put a stop to that. Sharrya was keeping him propped up, gauging his every twitch and reaction as she kept them face-to-face, his cheeks blushing as she observed him at his weakest. His breath was hers, and hers his own, the barrier separating their bodies breaking down as their mingled lovemaking pulled them into its hazing clutches.

He rode the current of passion freely, his hips raising of their own accord as he fucked his come deeper, her tight passage sucking down his seed eagerly. Each spurt was chased by a wave of exhaustion, and yet his climax was invigorated by its own results, a loophole of pleasure reducing him into a defeated, satisfied mess. He hugged Sharrya around the waist like a newborn, Sharrya placing her hand on his head and pushing him into her cleavage, her spicy smell, and the sordid mixture of their sweat enveloping him.

It felt like minutes passed before he finally rode down from his high, his eyes going wonky as some of his faculties returned to his control. Sharrya’s smirk was the first thing he perceived, one of mingled amazement and satisfaction – satisfaction that she’d finally had her win over him. A small win, but a win nonetheless.

“Adorable little thing,” she cooed. “I shall remember your Sinning Face forever.”

“Screw you,” he said, and then mashed his face against hers. Her eyes blazed in shock, and then she closed them as they shared a kiss, pouring their passion into every stoke like it was the last day on Earth.

Andreas separated with a wet smack, and when he collapsed back, Sharrya didn’t stop him. The demoness joined him, laying down by his side, sharing one last sigh with him as they separated, his cock coming out marred with their combined fluids. He had filled her to capacity it seemed, their shared love dripping down her leg in droves.

The Baroness turned to him to say something, and then she looked down at her crotch, reaching her giant hand towards her nethers. They came back slick with their mess, Andreas blinking as he watched her long tongue snake out to lap at the juices.

“What the… What the fuck are you doing?” he breathed, face contorting as she reached down for seconds. She was thorough, only stopping once her genitals were utterly cleaned, devouring the mess like a thirsty woman denied water.

“Such energy,” Sharrya groaned, licking her lips as she watched him beneath heavy lids. “The blend of mortal and demonic essence… I’ve never tasted raw power like this before.”

She smirked, her long head swinging over him and falling to his lap, Andreas groaning as her hot tongue flicked over his lingering erection. The sounds of her slurps and sucks filled his ears as she cleaned up his lap, Andreas twitching when she lingered on his sack for a little longer than was necessary.

Bold after their encounter, he decided to fulfill his wish, taking her by the horns and guiding her with gentle tugs. She chuckled around his cock, the vibrations sending lingering aftershocks coursing through him, but she offered no resistance.

She withdrew, flopping down beside him hard enough he nearly bounced, the two of them utterly spent as they lay together. The cell looked like someone had staged a breakout. The TV had been knocked off its trolley at some point, disk cases were everywhere, and there were scratch and burn marks all over the floor.

“What was that all about?” he asked, gesturing at his crotch. “You didn’t have to… clean up.”

“Demons feed off energy, as you know,” she explains. “It sustains us and Hell as a whole. Living off the Sins of other beings is a powerful source energy, and I do not have to tell you that our union is the most debouched act of taboo either one of us has ever done. Perhaps we should rethink our methods of harvesting…”

“Starting to sound like a succubus or something,” he mumbled.

“What’s a succubus? Something from your movies as well?”

Andreas didn’t answer, taking in the details of the ceiling as he wallowed in the post-coital bliss. Sharrya embraced him from the side, pulling him closer so that the side of his head was engulfed by her left bosom, the gesture making his blush harder.

They stayed like that for a while, but he didn’t keep quiet for long, Andreas turning on his side to address her.

“Well?” he asked, Sharrya cocking her head.

“Well, what?”

“I’ve held up my end of the bargain. Now it’s your turn.”

“Was having your fill of me not a reward enough?” she asked, chuckling as he pulled a stoic face. “It won’t help you, you know,” she added. “I meant what I said before. Knowing where my gore nests lay will not win your war.”

“No, but it’ll be the first step to kicking your kind off our planet.

“It seems I can’t convince you otherwise,” she mused, stroking his chest with one of her claws. “No matter, I have already had my fun.”

“Exactly. So…?”

“So… No.”

“What?” he asked, looking up at her, still held in her embrace. “What do you mean ‘no’? Sharrya, we had a deal!”

“The deal was that I have my way with you, and then you get the nests,” she pointed out. “I must be satisfied with my part of the exchange first.”

“What, those moans and groans of yours were actually from disappointment, were they? That what you’re trying to say?”

“Not exactly. I think that perhaps another round or two is in order, then we shall reevaluate,” she said, a coy look on her face.

Andreas tried to look annoyed, but he couldn’t keep a straight face, his lips curling in a grin. “Alright, I can agree to those terms. Let’s see how much Sin we can make in here.”

“A splendid idea. Let us make it so that even the Maykyrs will be jealous of us,” Sharrya giggled, rolling onto her back as Andreas began to mount her. He had the feeling he was going to be in this cell for a long while.

-xXx-

Andreas walked down the length of the Rallypoint’s southern wall, a high breeze sweeping at his unkempt hair. Regulations had been thinning since his stay at the fortress had been extended, he didn’t even have to stop and salute his superiors every other minute like back on the flotilla, = his loose affiliation with the Spanish Army giving him the status as a hero of the people. Being on land had never felt so good, aside from a few ‘choice’ concerns.

“My dick still hurts,” Andreas grumbled, steadying his hand on the railing as he limped along. “This is worse than when I had to escape that crash site, and I had to fight a horde of demons back then.”

“Be thankful it was only your pelvis that was injured,” Eva sighed, her chassis hovering after him above his right shoulder. “Did you really expect otherwise? You mated with an entity who’s first words out of its mouth were probably pain and death. And the state you two left that cell in! The place looked like a crime scene!”

“When it comes to a girl with horns and claws, you’ll have to expect things will get messy when we do the dirty. She’s not delicate, inside or out.”

“That’s quite enough,” Eva cut him off. “As If I would enjoy listening to you… describe your encounter with that thing.”

“I would,” chirped Sharrya, Eva glaring her lens at the demon. The Baroness was walking steadily behind them, and behind her, four guards followed after at a safe distance, postures tense but their weapons lowered. Sharrya had proven cooperative enough and displayed enough good behaviour she was allowed a modicum of freedom, even her request to watch the oncoming show had been approved, though she was not allowed to go anywhere without Andreas and a few dozen riflemen training a bead on her.

Her hands were clasped before her in an almost dainty fashion, the handcuffs viced around her wrists. She raised them as she lifted an explanative finger and continued: “Two lovers having wild, interspecies relations, which are prenuptial no less? Who wouldn’t wish to listen to that?”

“Me!” Eva snapped. “And who told you you had permission to speak, prisoner?”

“Perhaps describing such passion is more to your preference, machine? Or maybe you like watching more?” she asked, narrowing her green eyes. “That would explain why you had Andreas keep his helmet nearby…”

“A-As if I would stoop so low as to spy on your… eroticisms,” Eva stammered.

“There’s nothing wrong with a bit of voyeurism, Eva,” Andreas said. “I trust you won’t let the recordings get out.”

“She recorded it?” Sharrya asked, placing a shocked hand on her chest. “I’d have put on a better show if you had forewarned me, Eva. I would have upped the tempo, as the humans say.”

“I didn’t watch anything!” Eva exclaimed, watching to the two of them snicker. “Screw you both. Our flight home couldn’t come sooner.”

The three of them soon arrived at the corner section, standing upon the dais that served as the platform for the anti-aircraft emplacement.

Sharrya stepped up the raised section, sidling in on his left. Eva shared a look between the two, then decided to give them some privacy, floating out of earshot.

“I still think this is a waste of your time and resources,” Sharrya said, staring off into the blasted cityscape. “Gore nests are a vital part of our coordination efforts, true, but their loss will not to stop the invasion.”

“It’ll send whoever’s left of your army on the run, won’t it?” he asked. “That’s a win in my book.”

“Others will come,” Sharrya replied. “My small force was only deployed here because greater resistance lay elsewhere. All you have done is replace one warlord with another, and I doubt they will be willing to sleep with their enemy in exchange for a sliver of peace.”

Andreas spared her a glance, having to crane his neck to do so. “I used to think you were my enemy, too, Sharrya,” he said at last. “You tried to kill me a dozen times over, and I did the same to you, but now that we’ve no reason to fight, I think I’ve got you figured out. There’s a person under all that brawn who’s honourable, respectful. I don’t think I could ever give those qualities to someone I’m opposed to.”

“I… don’t think of you as my enemy either,” she said, blinking at his sudden candour. “Especially not after having you between my legs and shivering all over.”

“I think I can get you shivering with just one of these,” he said, holding up a hand.

“Right here and now?” Sharrya cooed, her eyes flashing with glee. “In front of all your friends? How deliciously daring…”

Before he could make a move, a clap of thunder echoed overhead, he and Sharrya turning their heads to the horizon. A couple miles deep into the layers of teeth-shaped structures, a plume of smoke bloomed up from the ruins, showering it in fire and smoke. He could vaguely pick out precarious buildings collapsing on their crumbling foundations.

After a delay, a second clap reached his ears, followed soon by another plume rising from a different direction, the soundwave reaching them after a noticeable delay. A third arrived, then a fourth, half a dozen, and soon the series of detonations was almost continuous, carpeting the city all the way from the Rallypoint to the horizon.

“Artillery barrages won’t destroy all of them,” Sharrya noted. “Some lay hidden beneath the Earth, how will you reach those?”

Just at that moment, a pair of interceptors screamed overhead, and flanking their lefthand wings were a pair of dropships, the same design as the one he and his squad had dispatched from. They were moving deeper into the continent, continuing on for a ways before splitting off into separate directions.

“Special op teams,” he explained. “Straight from the fleet. They’ll take care of the nests the fleet can’t hit with their guns.”

“Efficient,” Sharrya mused. “Your leaders are as determined by this plan as you are. I cannot fault them for that, even if this course of action changes little.”

He thought that standing there, watching as her legions were scattered by barrage after barrage, there might be some hostility brewing between them, but Sharrya put such thoughts in vain, her hand depositing itself on his shoulder warmly.

“This doesn’t… change things between us, does it?” he asked. “Me destroying everything you’ve built up?”

She considered for a long moment, looking from him to the city.

“Of course not. War isn’t personal for me or my species, it’s simply a part of us. I can always rebuild, just as your people can… if you ever win back your planet.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he grumbled. After a few minutes longer, the artillery stopped, Andreas counting they had reached into the fifties before the final volley. “So… I guess that’s it, it’s over.”

“In a sense,” Sharrya replied. “What happens now?”

“The fleet’s going to reposition before dispatching a dropship to pick me and Eva up,” he explained. “They’ll probably keep me here for a while, both to debrief me and to keep an eye on you. They heard about how much you and I… get along,” he added. “Way I see it, they might just sign me on as your intermediary.”

“If you want more information, you know my terms,” she said, a sly grin on her face. “Of course, the more your people ask of me, the more I will of you in turn…”

Andreas winced as she cupped his manhood through his jumpsuit, squeezing him in just the way he liked. He felt warmth in his cheeks as she gave him that soul-stare he had become very acquainted with during there ten or so romps they’d had before she’d finally let up and held up her end of the deal.

“What a provocative future we have in store,” she purred. “but… it is not for me.”

Her grip on his crotch loosened, then fell away, Andreas giving her a questioning look. Her lips spread in a cruel smile, she flexed her hands before her chest, Andreas watching in astonished horror as her shackles snapped apart with two cracks of metal.

“How the fu- I put those on you myself!” he stammered in disbelief.

“You humans really need to work on your restraints,” she said, smirking at the metal bands dangling from her wrists.

“This… This whole time?” he muttered, taking an alarmed step back from her.

“Don’t get me wrong, this has been the most fun I’ve had in my life for decades, and the allure of being tied up was so very delectable. I think I’ll keep them as a memento, to remember you by. Unless of course… you want to come with me?”

“Come with you? What do you mean?”

“Oh, Andreas, you don’t really expect me to stay here as a prisoner, do you?” She turned her body inwards, keeping her arms out of view behind her bulk as she addressed him. “I like you, really like you, but not enough to brave torture and humiliation. Best that I go now, I’ve overstayed my welcome long enough.”

“Oh,” he said, a little more disappointed than he liked to admit. “Guess I’m not that surprised. Where will you go?”

“Thanks to a certain someone, I have no choice but to return to Hell, face the repercussions of my failure here, and rebuild my forces. There should still be a few acolytes at my cathedral to open a portal.”

“But the suppression field’s still on, how can you make a portal?”

“You let me worry about that,” she replied. “Now come here.”

Sharrya grabbed him roughly by the shoulders, lifting him off the ground without warning and locking her lips to his. His heart fluttered as her tongue touched his lower lip, and he opened up to let her tongue in, her organ wetting the insides of his cheeks. Her movements were urgent, as though she only had a few scant moments to shower him in affection before time was up, her now free hands pressing into his cheeks.

She broke off, Andreas gasping for air as her green eyes filled his vision.

“How I long to take you back to Hell with me,” she purred. “My tower on the Peaks is isolated and very, very private. There’s a place for you there, you know, and I could do all sorts of things to keep you occupied…”

She stroked his hair, leaning in to nip his neck with her tusks.

“What do you say?” she asked. “You’re resilient, and you’ve become intimate with my body temperature. I think you would survive the journey. My own little mortal concubine, a limitless source of energy and Sin. I’d be the envy of all of Hell…”

“I-I can’t just leave behind my world,” he said. “As much as I’m flattered, I think I’m fine right here on Earth.”

“Pity,” she replied. “But your valour is just one of the things I admire about you.” Her eyes darted to the side. “I should go before someone catches on.”

“Wait,” he said, Sharrya blinking as he grabbed her forearm. “Will I… will we see each other again?” he asked.

She chuckled, Andreas blushing harder. Ever since their debauched dealings, he felt more connected to Sharrya than ever. He’d come to learn more about her, and likewise she had learned more about his life than even Eva did. He knew they wouldn’t stay as bed-buddies forever, but the sudden goodbyes were hitting him where it stung.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sharrya laughed. “I know what planet you live on, and your very life-force is known to me. Tracking you down will be trivial, and track you down I will. Stay vigilant the next time you’re out fighting the hordes, Andreas, because it might just be your favourite Baroness who’s leading the charge.”

“If you want a rematch, I’ll be waiting,” he replied.

“There’s a good boy,” she said, patting his hair like one would ruffle the collar of a dog. He shooed her off, but a grin quickly replaced his annoyance, one Sharrya returned with a warm smile.

“I wish you well in your war,” she said, planting her hands on her wide hips. “Until next we meet, morsel.”

She turned and moved around the base of the anti-air gun, one of the soldiers finally noticing that she was free. He shouted out a warning, the rest of the squad turning their rifles on her, but she slipped behind the emplacement, putting the giant gun between her and their weapons.

She strode up to the knee-high barrier ringing the sheer drop of the wall, placing one hoof upon it. She turned to look back at him, their eyes locking over the distance. Her expression was reminisce, and he felt his own features return the gesture.

With that, she turned, and stepped into the sheer drop with her back turned, her eyes never leaving his until the tips of her horns disappeared behind the wall.

He rushed towards the edge, he and the other soldiers peering over the long drop. She was in freefall, plummeting down the wall like a giant red stone, Andreas’ heart panging in worry. As he watched, Sharrya’s bulk smashed against the outer wall, one hand reaching out to clutch at the metal, one leg curling as she slid against its tattered surface.

Friction slowed her descent by a fraction, but she still sped towards the ground far below like a bullet. When she landed at the base, she did so with a plume of dust and smoke, not unlike the artillery strikes they’d just witnessed. He wasn’t surprised to see her climb to her feet when the smog cleared – he knew it took a lot more than a steep fall to kill someone like her.

Strangely enough, she simply stood there for a moment, and then a ripple in the air appeared ahead of her. The tear bloomed into an orb of distorted reality and infernal energies, the portal seeming to stretch toward her in welcome. Either someone had been watching for her escape, or she had some means of contacting her followers. Whichever the reason, it meant she had been planning this escape for some time.

The Baroness marched into the portal’s rolling depths, and when her shoulders slipped through, the orb blinked out of existence, and Sharrya was gone.

“What happened?” Eva demanded, her drone sliding into his peripheral. “I saw the shackles on her arms, how did she get out of them?”

“She just… broke them, like it was nothing,” Andreas explained. “She was faking it the whole time.”

“And you didn’t even try to stop her?” Eva asked.

“What was I supposed to do, tackle her? She’s a nine foot tall demon, Eva, cut me some slack.”

“Okay, okay, sorry, I was hoping we’d have finally caught our break, taking a Baron alive.” Her chassis deflated. “I’d sound the alarm, but she’s probably halfway across the country by this point. Commander Valeria’s not going to be happy about this.”

“At least she went quietly,” Andreas pointed out. “And we got the nest locations out of her, it’s not a complete loss.”

“Good point.” Eva floated in beside his head, lens turned up at the columns of smoke rising out of the city like chimney smoke. “Do you think she’ll be back? Not just for us, but you specifically? You two have been pretty close since your… dealings.”

“Definitely. But we outsmarted her once, we’ll outsmart her again.”

Andreas looked at the place the portal had taken his demonic partner. He had no qualms about calling her that now, not after their romantic movie night in the cell, and he had no reason to believe Sharrya did not feel the same. She wasn’t done with him, of that he was sure, and he welcomed the next time they would meet again.

He watched the closed portal for longer still, and then turned away from the edge, careful to keep his grin hidden from Eva’s sight.

-The End-

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