Sword of St. Michael #10

Story by bluedraggy on SoFurry

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#40 of Sampson and Devilah

Prayers of a Succubus

In which time is running out and Devilah runs out of ideas to save Sampson...

and oral sex.


| She set the sword down gingerly on a stone nearby. Agrat approached the sword warily, switching back to human form and feeling the power within the otherwise ordinary looking weapon. She looked at the sword and then back to the succubus.

"Well done Devilah! I didn't expect your progress to be so swift! And the Hero?" | | | Devilah looked to the floor. "No. I wasn't able to kill him."

Agrat growled, "Then your work is not yet done."

Devilah protested, "It's... not an easy thing to do you know!" | | | "There are denizens here that could have it accomplished in a few seconds, Devilah. I am being lenient with you, but you must do this if you are to redeem yourself," she insisted. "You know I have a soft spot in my heart for you, Devilah. I would dearly like to restore you to your former status. But as long as Sampson lives you will not be! You were one of our top operatives in Skyrim among your kind. It is shameful to see how far you have fallen. If you do not complete your mission this time, you will be sent to the lowest pits where you will be denied your disgusting 'needs' until you perish." | | | Devilah pleaded with Agrat, "No! I can still be useful! That Khajiit in Elseweyr you mentioned! I can take care of him like I have the others!"

Agrat assumed a friendly tone, "I know you are useful Devilah. Your loss to the cause would be tragic. Just do this one little thing. A dagger to the heart while he's stabbing your cunt maybe? It would be only right! Hell, do it while he's in the throes of orgasm and he'll barely notice. It will be a death he'd be happy to endure! But he MUST DIE Devilah. No more protests. Just do it. If you cannot accomplish this small task by tomorrow night, I will send hellhounds to finish him." | | | "No! They'll tear him to shreds!"

"Yes, they will. His death will be agonizing and take hours. He will use all his might. He will stab them, throttle them, but they will not be stopped. You know the hellhounds can't be killed by mortals, and they are relentless. Finally his throat will be ripped out, but not before he is mauled and partially eaten alive. Devilah, you would be doing him a kindness by ending him quickly. I will expect a favorable report tomorrow night. You will not be given a another chance."

"But... you said a week!"

Agrat looked to the sword, as if both repelled and attracted to it. "Oh but you try my patience, Devilah. You've done well with the sword. Had I not been personally insulted, that alone would suffice. But..." | | | "The work of a dagger takes only seconds. You need no more time. Fuck him and slay him. Feel his blood flow over you while his seed flows into you, succubus! It's your nature, whore! Now go, and when next I see you tomorrow night I expect you to be covered in his gore!" | | | Devilah was pushed back to Skyrim by Agrat's power without even opening a portal. She found herself sprawled on the upstairs landing where she had left just minutes before. She heard a clock somewhere chime 1 o'clock. "23 hours," she thought. Her time was fast running out. She knew hellhounds, and she knew Agrat would do it. | | | "Now what?" she thought as she re-entered the room.

She saw Sampson still sleeping. She began to cry and fell to her knees. For the first time in her life she realized she was out of ideas and that Sampson might die because of her. | | | Looking up at the ceiling, she did something she'd never dreamed of doing in her long life before. She closed her eyes and prayed. It was a rough prayer, and not devoid of curses and demands. But it was heartfelt, and it was heard. | | | But nothing happened, and she finally gave up and returned to Sampson's bed as worried as ever. She did not sleep, however. She thought and thought. And then it came to her, and she knew what she had to do. She had to tell Sampson all. The sword was the key. Dammit, why did she leave it in Hell? The sword could cut through hellhounds like they were dogs. With it and her warning, Sampson could defeat them. She had to get it back.

She heard Sampson turn in his sleep. | | | It wasn't a solution, she knew, but it was at least something. Something worth celebrating perhaps?

She debated if she should awaken Sampson or just let him sleep. But then she glanced down at his manhood and suddenly it was no longer up for debate. They'd already made love once tonight after all, once more wouldn't hurt anything. The only question remaining was how suddenly should she wake him.

She opted for the gentle tongue-massage method, to which he responded as expected. It was nice to find that some of her schemes actually went as planned! She was good at this anyway. She was good at penises. | |