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Demiurge collected her plate and fed the remainder to Azazel. He decided she had earned something tastier than mere steak for her compliance today.

She remembered to kneel, although it was with a small reminder, but he could not blame her for not being sharp after 48 hours without adequate food or sleep. Because it was he who controlled her intake of nutrition in this situation, he would not fault her. She did not refuse to fulfill his command to wash his shoes with her tongue, despite the order's ultimately degrading nature, and in the end she did give him the desired reaction to his touch, which pleased him to no end.

The demon was quite satisfied with his pet's progress.

Demiurge presumed she was likely rather upset that he had taken the plate of steak away, but he had intended it to be a mere appetizer until the main course was prepared. He didn't want her to be too full for her reward, after all. Besides, once she was presented with what he was preparing, she would completely forget about the half dozen bite-sized pieces of meat.

The demon was going to continue put his brother's method of positive reinforcement to the test. If he gave her an extravagant reward, perhaps she would follow through with this final task without any resistance whatsoever.

He gathered cherry and apple wood logs for the fire pit he dug out and finished butchering the "lamb". The Arch Devil sawed off the racks of rib and worked the membrane loose from the end bones with a butter knife and peeled it off with surgical precision. After brushing on the maple and bourbon glaze with utmost care, he constructed a spit-roast and used his Hellfire to sear the racks of rib and tenderloin. During the last 15 minutes of cooking, he slathered the ribs with another generous layer of the sweet and smokey sauce every five minutes until they were perfectly browned with a lovely layer of crisp.

The demon loved to cook; it was an art in of itself. He had an excellent sense of taste due to his acute sense of smell, and he enjoyed experimenting with different seasonings and methods of smoking meats. His favorite combination was sweet and savory, though he also found roasted garlic and different herbs including oregano, rosemary, Basil, and sage complemented red meats beautifully.

He would have had everything ready earlier, but he had been somewhat preoccupied the past 2 days with arranging her final task.

---

Lillith hated herself in the worst way for eating as ravenously as she did.

Demiurge returned an hour later with something so much better than the plate of steak he had taken with him. She swallowed a small sob along with a melt-in-your-mouth chunk of meat as she despairingly tried to forget this was the lamb Demiurge had so calculatingly convinced her to kill.

But fuck her six ways to Sunday if it wasn't the best goddamned meal she had ever had in her entire life.

'Holy filet of fuck, can this sick son-of-a-bitch cook.'

She had literally been starving, and Demiurge prepared her a plate of so much more than what she had eaten since she had been imprisoned here. Her Master gifted her with two small racks of smoked ribs and a generous serving of juicy tenderloin. She ate like she had never tasted food in her life, and the meat was seared to perfection with a crispy crust, once again seasoned with the same smokey mesquite, rich bourbon and glazed with maple syrupy sweetness.

The demon didn't even give her a command before presenting the plate to her, he simply let her have it and he smiled with that same Cheshire fanged grin, patted her head and told her she was a good girl. He then retrieved a pitcher of water and filled up the dog bowl to the top.

If this was the result of obedience and compliance, she would not fight him anymore.

'If I please Master, I get fed, and fed WELL. I need to continue to obey.'

Something inkling in the back of her mind told her there must be some seriously fucked up reason he was so very pleased with her, but she couldn't be bothered to care as she finally filled her stomach and had a fresh bowl of water to wash it all down with.

It was so good to be full. She would never, ever take that for granted again as long as she lived. After the hot meal she curled up into a ball and took a nice long nap.

---

Lillith awoke hours later, feeling the most rested she had since she was brought here. She was roused by a light tug on the collar around her neck. She stirred lazily to see that the Arch Devil had unchained her steel tether from the wall.

"Come with me, pet. We're going to take a short walk outdoors. For this, you are permitted stand and move on two legs." He said with a smile playing on his lips; the demon seemed to be in an unusually good mood.

'I get to go outside?!'

Lillith wanted to be ecstatic, but couldn't help but be skeptical; why was he granting her exodus from her prison?

She wasn't sure whether to be more happy to see the sun again or anxiously suspicious that he was giving her any sort of break from her punishment, even if it was just temporarily.

Was he finally going to kill her? Did she just have her last meal?

Lillith precariously rose onto two legs, her knees and joints painfully popping in protest before readjusting to their natural position. Her steps were shaky and uncoordinated at first, but with muscle memory her limbs soon fell back in tandem with her normal gait.

Demiurge wound the length of chain around his forearm and fist, adjusting it into a short leash and led her out of the basement and through the cottage, and into the glorious sun. It was low on the horizon, setting the sky aflame with scarlet, burnt orange and canary yellow and she suspected it to be between 6:30 to 7 pm. Her skin was pleasantly warmed by the golden glow and the late spring grass was plush beneath her bare feet...it felt so good to step on something other than icy concrete.

She followed him closely as he then made a beeline for the skinning shed, his tail swaying more flamboyantly than usual, a dead giveaway betraying how genuinely excited he was.

'What is he so thrilled about?'

Icy anxiety rolled down her spine. The last time his tail wagged so exuberantly was when he had tasked her with killing something.

She was almost afraid to know what he had waiting for her in there.

He halted before the twin doors to the wooden structure, and turned to her.

"I told you I had a surprise..." Demiurge smirked, his gaze darkening with cruel intent. "And here it is."

The demon pulled the doors open, and stood aside so she could take a look for herself.

Demiurge unraveled the chain from his hand, allowing her freedom to enter the shed alone.

This made her rather suspicious. Why did he let go of the leash? What made him so sure she wouldn't run?

He canted his head in a gesture to go ahead, and Lillith hesitantly stepped inside, but was still sun-blind. Her eyes took a few moments to adjust.

The shed smelled worse than usual; like sweat and fear and blood.

Demiurge had someone, a morbidly obese man, strapped to a chair in there; his head hung weakly from his shoulders so she couldn't make out his face. He had been stripped of all clothes but his underwear and was already sporting deep bloody gashes all over his flabby arms, shoulders and sides from when Demiurge must have wrangled him into submission. On the adjacent workbench, there was an array of tools akin to the collection Demiurge had laid out for the Eight Fingers gang member he had tortured.

'Oh, Hell no. He's going to torture someone again?!'

Lillith squinted in the dim light, and discerned his silhouette was...eerily familiar. Her heart began to race. The man slowly lifted his head, and her blood chilled in her veins. She felt her pulse hammering in her ears, and she began to tremble. A deep scar was raked into his greasy flesh, just beneath his eye and ran down his cheek, removing any lingering doubt as to who this was.

It was him. Her personal devil.

Lillith's eyes bored into his, and she saw the fear fall over his features like a shroud.

The monster wearing human skin recognized her, but whether he was afraid of her or the Devil who stood in the doorway who watched with evil glee at what was unfolding, she couldn't be sure.

Something then snapped, no, exploded in Lillith. It wasn't panic. It wasn't fear. It wasn't even pity. It was rage, raw, primal, murderous rage. A red hot sun of malice rose in her chest, fury and devastating wrath boiled over, spilling into her veins and screaming from her every pore.

She roared, snarling through bared teeth, her hand blindly sweeping the first object she could grasp off of the workbench and she lunged like a lioness, hurling herself at the man who bellowed in terror at the feral, naked woman who sent him and the chair he was fastened to hurtling backwards.

Lillith straddled the beast who had raped and beaten her and plunged the bladed tool over his heart, screaming vile curses incomprehensibly like a banshee with unleashed fire and fury as she unloaded every bottled-up ounce of hatred she had crammed down into the depths of her soul over the last decade. Lillith ripped the blade out of his chest and slammed it downward into the rolls of his neck, tearing it free to only to bring it crashing down into the eye she had failed to successfully gouge out months ago.

During her fucking-up-fatty-fest, Demiurge stood idly by, onlooking with awe at the human who had been so meek and fearful when she was first gifted to him as she put the weapon between her teeth and proceeded to wind her own chain around the monster's throat and pulling it tight with a vehement snarl in an attempt to strangle him to death.

The Arch Devil was admittedly impressed; he had not foreseen such an instantaneously violent reaction from her. He had expected perhaps some shouting, punching, harsh words and tears at the most.

He predicted the same reluctance she had displayed when he had tasked her with killing the lamb.

What vexed the demon most of all was the lamb appeared as just that, a mere animal to her, but she still hesitated in putting it down. While she did somehow hear the sheep calling for help, from what he could tell, she did not actually see them for what they truly were. But if she was hearing what could be construed as human speech, it was no wonder that she had hesitated.

The fact that his auditory illusion may have failed in any way made him...apprehensive._His visual and auditory spells were designed to operate on the same sections of the human brain which projects images and sound during REM sleep dreams, and on the reticular activating system whose circuits run from the brain stem through the thalamus to the cortex. With a few precisely calculated alterations he had perfected it to infuse memories and whatever he desired into the mind's eye while the subject is awake. It was a groundbreaking new method of illusionary magic, and could not be combated with a counter-spell, and even Lord Ainz had praised him for its ingenuity. It had worked flawlessly on the 150 subjects of all different races, gender and ages he had tested it on, so why did not not hold up to the same standard with her? What made his servant _different?

It made him wonder if she would _knowingly_kill a human. If he were to coax her into crossing that line, he would need to bridge it by giving her a target she would already have a deep-rooted malice towards.

For this purpose, Demiurge chose not hide who or what this man was. He sought out and tracked down this human down by faded traces of her scent on him, and in all honesty, he simply wanted to know out of morbid curiosity how she would respond to facing the one responsible for so much of her pain and trauma.

And oh, he was not disappointed in the least.

The muscles in her back flexed, her lithe arms coiling and lashing, her form of fury work of art; the physicality of her rage flowed through her like a roiling thunderstorm, a formidable force of nature channeled through her small frame.

As he observed in riveted reverence, Demiurge felt a strange sensation creeping into him. A beguiling pull, something unfamiliar and primal being plucked at. His breath hitched in his throat, and he held it until he could only breathe with her, resonating with her respiration.

His throat clenched, tightening uncomfortably to push back the heavy lump growing inside as he realized how marvelous she was in her malevolent rampage.

A sharp thrill swept up and down his spine,rippling through him and outwards as he listened to her hateful howls and watched her rip into her enemy with vehement violence, pouring her agony into every strike.

The demon had broken her, meticulously put her back together, reshaped and molded her into his ideal submissive and then bestowed her with teeth and claws, and now he had gifted his pet with her very own scratching post to sharpen them on. The Arch Devil grinned like a maniac, his eyes sparkling at the savage spectacle as he regarded, no, appreciated her animalistic ferocity in all of its primal glory.

The man looked as though he had been mauled by a pride of lions, and the blade of her randomly chosen weapon (Demiurge typically used it to filet thinner slices of meat) had bent when she gave up on choking him with the chain in favor of slamming it into his sternum for the fourth time, with so much adrenaline charged force it had snapped. She threw it aside and continued to claw at his face like a wildcat with her nails, mercilessly digging into his eyes as hers were alight with blue flame. She did not stop hemorrhaging hatred and slashing at him until he fell limp and silent.

By the time Lillith had worn herself out, her vocal chords were shredded and she was splattered and streaked with blood.

She actually managed to kill him with a pierce to his aortic valve, and he succumbed to massive internal bleeding.

And Lillith felt no guilt whatsoever.

In fact, she felt pretty fucking good; she felt powerful. In control.

She was panting, shaking, and still raggedly seething through her teeth.

The Arch Devil was beyond thrilled when he saw the man's body still; she surpassed his expectations with flying colors. She did not only face her personal demon, she fucking slaughtered him with a level of brutality that was most pleasing to his sadistic idiosyncrasy.

"You did very well, pet. I am quite pleased with how to handled the situation." Demiurge said with utmost pride.,

He approached her from behind and moved to unwind the chain from the man's neck in order to take her back inside. Still in a frenzied and hostile state of mind, Lillith absentmindedly snarled and lashed out at her Master.

Demiurge reacted purely on instinct and hissed venomously in return, grabbing her by the shoulders, his claws digging into her flesh. With panicked aggression still charging full force through her limbs, Lillith shrilled and clawed wildly at him and the Arch Devil seized her in both arms, crushing her against him as he slammed her into the wall. His chest heaved against hers, a lion-like rumble leaving his lungs with each exhale and she saw that a dark, predatory snarl wretched his lips.

The demon's eyes narrowed with austere warning and smoldered with a white-hot fire that struck Lillith to the very core. Suddenly, his features seemed more angular, more intense. He looked so...utterly diabolical; looked the way she felt.

Demiurge tucked his chin and glowered at her with malevolent hostility and barely restrained violence, and everything in Lillith's being told her she had made a grave mistake by striking out at him.

'I might die today. But I'm not backing down. Not this time.'

Lillith stared him down, azure eyes locking with icy crystals, her teeth bared threateningly, just as his ivory fangs were, like two wolves challenging one another.

She didn't apologize, nor did she back down, as her fiery rage still burned brightly from within and adrenaline was still surging through her veins.

Demiurge suddenly lunged forward and sank his teeth into the cords of her neck in a firm bite, and she snarled and clawed at his neck, raking her nails downward, and the demon groaned in approval and firmly ground his hips into hers.

It was a symphony of chaos: Lillith's heart roared in her ears, in time with the ragged gasping of her breath as tried to make sense of the spark of flame in her body and Demiurge's guttural growls of hunger.

'Now is SO not the time! There's a morbidly fat fuck bleeding out 10 feet away!'

But then the demon licked and sucked the bite on her neck, his tongue soothing and searing her tender flesh. He reached around and grasped her ass possessively and bucked against her again, and she could feel the hard, heated column of his cock pressing into her, and any concern for the nearby corpse dissipated. Lillith moaned so loudly that it startled her, and Demiurge's hands fisted the collar around her neck in a lethal grip, and then he ripped it off of her, the chain clanging loudly onto the floor as he tossed it aside.

"Hell yes, _fight_me." He murmured against her flesh, granting her permission to touch him, though it was barely comprehensible. His voice was low and edged with urgency.

Demiurge unbuttoned his suit jacket, peeling it off with haste and then tore his shirt open, sending buttons flying in all directions, stripping out of its sleeves and unfastened his tie. Her breath caught; she could feel furious lust rolling off of him in waves. He hurriedly unfastened his pants and kicked them off.

Lillith instinctively grasped his forearms for support when the demon then unexpectedly hurled them both to the floor and she felt rough, splintery wood scrape her bare back; she refocused her spun vision to find the Devil on top of her, caging her with his limbs.

'Oh shit. You touched him. TWICE. Remember what happened last time? Apologize, you fucking idiot!'

"I-I'm sorry!" She sputtered in a panicked whisper, realizing her mistake and she instantly let go of him.

His breathing was rapid and arduous as he held her there, his tail swinging to and fro behind him. She looked to his face, afraid his action was in response to the unpermitted touch; his expression was hardened and hungry, but not entirely hateful. He looked more feral than anything, a wildfire blazing in his gaze as the flaming sky was reflected off of the many facets of his diamond eyes.

"I'll let you touch me, just for today." He muttered with contingency, as he again bit and sucked at her neck, sending her senses spiraling downward and the world around her blurred until all she could see and feel was him.

If he gave permission to be touched, he was still in control.

Or so he told himself.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard..." He purred against her throat as his swollen head pressed against her entrance, feeling her already growing slick for him and a heat rose to her cheeks, inflaming her entire body. The demon slid his hand under her rear and lifted her hips to his, crystalline eyes roaming possessively over her.

They gasped together as the demon suddenly skewered into her, hot and hard. He let out a shuddering breath as her wet, silken walls clenched around him; he withdrew, only to slowly sink back in.

The Devil watched her face intently, waiting for the gleam of fear or pain in her eyes as felt the end of her channel restrict him, but he pushed himself in deeper still, trying to force a cry from her lungs.

Lillith could feel every inch of him inside her as he descended further and further, until she felt him pressing against her cervix. It was so acute, so intense...so...

Her back arched and she screamed in pain-tinged ecstasy, her desire flaring from a small spark into a raging firestorm.

_"Master!"_She cried out, her hands clawing at his hard biceps as he held himself above her. Her toes curled, her knees twisted and turned as she struggled to accommodate how deeply he sank.

As unexpected this turn of events was, she couldn't deny how good it felt to have the cruel demon inside her once again, his girth stretching her to that faded line of pain and pleasure.

And holy shit, he wasn't angry with her for touching him. Or maybe he was too turned on to really care. She should have known he got off on watching murder.

Whatever, as long as she wasn't in trouble for lashing out at him, she was golden.

In fact, she felt great. Lillith was actually...happy. Her Master was being lenient today, and then he brought her the monster who had tormented her, broken her in the worst way, and then the demon gifted her with the sweetest thing she could possibly ask for; revenge.

Whether that was truly his intention for this final task, to give her what she wanted most, she couldn't be sure. Deep down she knew there had to be some sinister ulterior motive, but considering it didn't change the fact that he made it to where she got to take that fucker out with her own two hands, she decided she could live with whatever it was. Demiurge gave her closure, and now she and Tuare could sleep like babies knowing he was dead.

Just for that, he could fuck her as hard as he wanted to and she wouldn't complain in the least.

He hissed as her nails dug into his skin, and he rolled his hips forward, earning another high mewl.

The Arch Devil let out a rumbling growl and he plunged his face back down to suck the bruising and bleeding bite mark harder. The way she was shrieking for him...she made such beautifully pained and desperate noises. And she writhed for and against him, in euphoric torment. Yes, this was what he craved. Fearful, wanton worship_of his predatory prowess. He watched how she agonized in his grasp, as he forced her to take all that he gave, made sure she felt the depth of every torturous stroke. She grimaced and pushed her head back, her legs tightening around his narrow waist and bracing. It was too much for her, but she _would take it, for he gave her no choice.

Demiurge grunted and groaned and pushed her shoulders down, pinning her in place, allowing her no buffer as he punishingly pounded into her. Her hands flew to his back, dragging her nails down into his ribs as she clawed at him mercilessly in panicked rapture.

A scorching pleasure flared in his loins at sharp pain she inflicted, the predator in him hissing in his ear to either tear into or violently fuck his prey until she stopped fighting. One was just as appealing as the other; but as his favorite toy, he very much favored her preservation. Lillith scratched at him, panting as he ruthlessly rutted into her.

"You must have really hated that waste of flesh." Demiurge chuckled as his servant tore into him, but she did not respond.

He groaned at the delicious pain from her nails biting into his skin, but it was outweighed by a strangled cry as she suddenly came on his rigid organ, his name tearing from her lips as her channel constricted tightly around his pulsating shaft. He bared his fangs as he pressed through it fierce determination, still unsatisfied and hungry for more screams. As her heart rate increased from the climax, the wound he made seeped more, and the demon hungrily swept the crimson trails away with his tongue.

The Arch Devil's heavy breathing and her pounding heart was the only thing that filled her ears as she closed her eyes to savor the aftershocks before again dragging her nails hard and deeply down his back. He withdrew from her neck and hissed out in pain, his eyes screwing shut, his muscles tensing.

'Oh shit, did I actually hurt him?'

Was harming the demon even possible?

The Arch Devil's teeth were clenched harshly, and for a second she thought she went too far; but then his crystalline eyes snapped open and the corners of his mouth curled upwards in a psychotic grin, flashing all of his fangs. It was the same jagged smile she saw sharpen his face when he killed the prisoner, and then he narrowed that predatory gaze at her, and she felt a cold chill of fear roll down the base of her spine.

"Make me bleed." He purred. For some reason, her clawing the Hell out of him was only turning him on even more. And now, he was demanding that she hurt him.

She hesitated; this was outside the norm of her usual orders. None of the clients at the brothel ever asked to be hurt in any way. Usually they found pleasure in hurting her, not the other way around. She spent the majority of her life learning how to give pleasure, not cause pain to those that she served. What if she scratched too hard and pissed him off?

Demiurge could see the wheels in her head turning as she absorbed what he ordered her to do.

"You could not possibly cause me any real discomfort even if you tried. I can take it." The demon said smugly, assuring her safety to do as he commanded.

Still skeptical, she hesitated.

Growing impatient, the Arch Devil plunged hard and violently, forcing a response. Lillith grimaced and reacted thoughtlessly, clenching her fingers into his flesh again. His eyes slid shut with a sharp inhale, his tongue sweeping over his fangs as a pleased hum left his lips.

"Now, like you mean it."

Lillith reluctantly obeyed, viciously digging her nails into his back, just beneath his shoulder blades, careful to avoid coaxing out his wings as they were too sensitive to withstand that kind of punishment. She felt moisture bead beneath her fingertips and realized she dug in so deep he was bleeding. She watched him let out a shuddering exhale, and could feel tremors moving through his skin, and it made her morbidly aroused that she could get away with eliciting such a response from him.

While it felt..._strange_to be hurting him, especially to the point that it made him bleed, it clearly gave him a great deal of pleasure. Judging by his face, the harder the contact, the more he liked it. It seemed he was just as much of a masochist as he was a sadist.

But what she found _most_disturbing was the odd sense of satisfaction she was drawing from it. She was harboring a lot of bottled up rage, and with each rake of her fingers she felt more and more of it flow out, releasing tension.

The way Lillith ripped into his back and shoulders had Demiurge panting like a dog; she put all of her anger at him behind it and he only wanted more. His lustful gaze burned into her, and the message was clear.

'Harder.'

She experimentally raked her nails from his shoulders down his biceps, and the demon let out a shuddering moan and she saw red welts rise behind the trails her fingers left.

He began thrusting into her so hard her groin was starting to go numb and they were sweating as though it were a hundred degrees in the small space between them.

Lillith licked a bead of sweat from the side of his neck and drug her nails down his chest like a wildcat.

She didn't know if she intended to draw blood that time, but at his ragged gasp, she did it again.

"More," He demanded, and she leaned forward to bite into the thickly corded muscle of his shoulder; and to her surprise it was not an unpleasant sensation; it was grotesquely satisfying. She felt his flesh yield beneath her teeth, and the sound that tore from his throat was guttural. He then angled his hips to strike the hidden bundle of nerves deep within her, as though to reward her savage behavior, and she felt a tidal wave of pleasure wash through her.

Lillith had a feeling it would drive her master wild, so she then swept her tongue over the punctures and sucked, tasting his blood. It was potently metallic, and made her mouth tingle. A filthy moan left his lips, and his tail curled tightly in ecstasy.

Demiurge was absolutely loving this.

Lillith moved up to his neck, running her tongue over the strong tendons before harshly clamping her teeth down on the most prominent one. She felt his pulse pounding beneath her lips, and his rumble of satisfaction. One of the demon's hands flew to her hair to fist it in a death grip, holding her firmly to him. Lillith looked up to see his eyes roll back as a shuddering gasp escaped the Arch Devil's lungs.

"Fuck, yes..." He ground out.

Oh, how he loved that. This was closer to how it felt to be fucking another demon, rather than a human, and he just couldn't get enough.

She felt him throb inside her as he poured a hot stream of pre-ejaculate.

Demiurge growled and wrapped his arms around her, locking his elbows against her shoulders so she couldn't move and started ramming her so viciously she thought she would split in two.

"Ah -fuck, MASTER!" she cried out, wincing in pain from the onslaught down below. He was going way too hard, but there was nothing for her to do. Sweat was glistening between them, and the cool tendrils of their hair stuck to their faces.

Demiurge's entire world shrank around him, down to just this, a few scalding inches of air between them, her hands clutching his forearms, her plush, inner walls gripping his shaft, the harsh drag of her fingernails drawing burning red welts over his overly-sensitized flesh.

Lillith's legs squeezed tighter around his waist and pulled him closer, deeper. He could feel her heels digging into his back. The plush softness of her thighs cushioning his thrusting hips, the way her channel clung to his member as tightly as she gripped his body, holding him...like she never wanted to let him go.

How, after _all_he had done to her, she could still be this way with him, he could not fathom. She knew he was a monster, without question. The Arch Devil could paint the skies with smoke and fire, exterminate bloodlines without batting an eye, tear the pillars of the entire cities from their foundations and grind it all into dust, without any regard of how many lives would be lost. He was a conductor of death and devastation on an unimaginable scale.

Her body then cringed and her channel tightened, her breath light and feathered. The pressure in her abdomen was quickly building, coalescing with electrifying heat.

"It feels good to cause pain, to draw blood, doesn't it?" The salacious drawl of his voice had Lillith falling over the edge.

She stretched her body and rolled her head back, frantically seeking oxygen as she screamed out the Arch Devil's name, her entire frame trembling and her hands, not knowing what else to do, scraped down the sides of his forearms.

"Hell yes, scream for me..." Demiurge growled viscerally as she keened as though he were ripping her wide open and he felt the heat in her core flourish in a scorching, second release, and he moaned low in response as he felt her hot fluids soaking his member. He held her still as the tremors hit her, forcing her to take every sensation in its entirety. Her body shook in rapture so strong it was painful, the contractions wrenching around his shaft, sucking him in further.

Demiurge seethed through his teeth as he pressed through the intense episode of her release, but with her screaming his name and clenching harder than ever around his pulsing member, no amount of control could help him.

"Fuck!" He snarled and buried his fangs into the crook of her neck, again breaking the skin. The claws of his hand dug deep into her hip, holding her perfectly immobile as he violently exploded in a seemingly endless hot gush, thrusting hard with each pulse of forceful release. His final cries were guttural and animalistic, contrasting to Lillith's exquisite screams.

It seemed to last forever, that moment of unbridled rapture, of tension released.

The Arch Devil then collapsed onto his servant, their breath feeding heavily into one another, their chests meeting with each expand. They were both shaking, panting.

As they drifted down from the soaring high, they became vaguely aware of the demon's heart thundering against hers. Lillith's glassy gaze met his, and the level of intimacy of the moment made the Arch Devil extremely uncomfortable, so he rolled off of his servant and over onto his back. Lillith was far too exhausted to move whatsoever, what little energy she once possessed was completely drained as she was still quite weak from lack of adequate nutrition.

Demiurge didn't understand why this time was...different. So much more satisfying and intense. Was it because he shared control and allowed her to touch him, even if it was in a violent manner and for his own selfish needs? Or how she strained against his grasp, clawing and screaming like prey fighting for its life?

The Arch Devil was much more agreeable with the latter.

No.

No, it was much more complicated than that, and he knew it.

It was then that Demiurge realized that he was growing more fond of his slave than he had ever intended to.

And that was a very, very bad thing.

---

***The Night Before Last***

Demiurge messaged Sebas, and after assuring him Lillith was fine and simply "working" at his ranch and would be home in a day or so, he began a soft interrogation.

{Sebas, she needs to know that there is no way he will ever hurt her again. Don't you think Tuare would sleep better at night as well, knowing that monster is dead? You honestly should have killed him yourself when you caught him in the act. But I have no qualms in taking care of it for both of us.}

Demiurge presented his reasoning as though he were valiantly taking matters into his own hands for Tuare and Lillith's peace of mind, and doing them all a favor by ridding the earth of scum like him.

The Butler sighed. The demon could practically see him face-palming as he battled his deep-seated sense of morality. It was obvious he was not comfortable with his plan, and was weighing the pros and cons of surrendering the desired information, because he knew it was practically the equivalent of handing a blade to the demon.

'Just tell me what I need to know, you self-righteous bastard.' The demon mentally growled and rolled his eyes.

At first the Butler was tight-lipped, not trusting the Arch Devil's intentions; with Demiurge, there was always some insidious ulterior motive.

And while there indeed was, he couldn't have possibly have known what the demon had planned. Hell, if Sebas knew what he had really done with his pet over the past couple of days he would have gone straight to Lord Ainz and filed a massive complaint.

{You would not have any blood on your hands. Think of it as long-overdue justice finally being served. I'm sure you are just as tired as I am of hearing them screaming as they awaken from the nightmares that bastard still gives them.}

Guilt and pity were some of the most devastatingly effective tools in Demiurge's arsenal of manipulation. When utilized just right, he could get damn near anything he wanted out of anyone.

After those pretty words were delivered by the demon's silver tongue, Sebas at last relented and gave up what the demon wanted to know.

All he lacked now was a means of transport for the prisoner; if Sebas' description was accurate, his target would not be easily carried or flown out of the city. He could not risk being seen hauling his unconscious body slung over his shoulder, nor could he chance dropping him from a thousand feet up. Demiurge wanted this victim alive.

He messaged Malphas, who, unlike Sebas, asked no questions and was more than willing to help.

{Give me twenty minutes to prepare a stagecoach. I'll hook up my two best haulers and will have it dropped off at the coordinates you have provided.}

{Thank you, brother. Your cooperation in this matter is most appreciated.}

{Of course, Demiurge. Feel free to return it at your convenience.}

{End Message}

'Why the Hell can't everything be that easy? I'll certainly be sending that beautiful son of a bitch a gift basket.'

Demiurge could theoretically overtake this entire continent in 3 weeks time if everyone was as willing and helpful as Malphas was.

He checked in on his pet one last time, and as he had hoped, she was sound asleep.

Armed with a location, Demiurge took to the night skies and flew to the city. He glided with the silence of an owl, and landed with the whisper of wings. After a brief survey of his surroundings he plotted his path of attack and escape. He was pleased to see that Malphas had come through for him right on time and had left him a bicorn-drawn stagecoach at the corner of the street, precisely where he needed it.

'Perfect.'

Everything was in order.

The demon then selected a particularly shadowy spot beneath a dying, gnarled-branched tree across from the seedy, run-down establishment, and patiently waited, casually leaning against its trunk and taking long drags from a cigarette to pass the time.

Within the shadows of crooked branches and the moonlight spottily beaming through the gaps of the tree, his outline was broken up. Even with his flashy vermilion suit, in the obscure shade of night he went entirely unnoticed by the few people who wandered by. The combined visual distraction of light and darkness was camouflage as deceptive and concealing as a leopard's spots.

After a grueling two hours of watching trashy characters come and go from the brothel, Demiurge had nearly blown through his entire pack.

But he wasn't going anywhere. He'd stand there all damned night if he had to. Humans were notoriously creatures of habit; the Arch Devil knew without a doubt he was in there. When Demiurge was down to his last cigarette, a man fitting the Butler's given description finally exited the building. His lips peeled back into an insidious, fanged grin. Sebas was a many things, but he was not a liar; he indeed gave him honest information. The demon tailed him at a respectable distance as he lumbered down the street, completely unaware of the predator tracking him. When a cool gust of night air carried downwind, he inhaled deeply. The Devil had several odors to sort through, all of them quite unpleasant; fetid layers of sweat, grime, salty tears of female humans, the strong tang of fear, coppery blood, sex, and-

'What a surprise, the pig doesn't wipe worth a damn.' The demon scornfully huffed in disgust. 'It would seem he doesn't shower often, either.'

There was no excuse for his poor lack of hygiene. The quality of his clothes was evidence that he could afford not only a mansion, but also a deluxe shower, and at the very least, toilet paper. The fact that a man of his social status frequented a brothel in this part of town meant that he came here for the sole purpose of being able to abuse the slaves in ways you could not in a more upscale establishment befitting to the depths of his pockets. In places like these, if one paid the top dollar, the owners would turn a blind eye to whatever was done.

Another gentle breeze swept over the Arch Devil, and sure enough, beneath the malodorous chaos of the monster wearing human skin, Demiurge detected ancient, but unmistakable traces of lilies, orange blossoms and peaches; his pet's scent on the bastard.

The demon had predicted such.

But what the demon had not expected was the searing jealousy that whipped through his veins like lighting, boiling his blood with primal, avaricious rage.

The Arch Devil's pulse roared with fury, and he threw his cigarette down as fingers curled into claws, ready rip his flesh asunder.

She was his. HIS property. This fat piece of shit had put his filthy, grubby hands on HIS FUCKING PROPERTY.

KILL!

'Bleed him dry! Make him scream! Disembowel-'

He paused and swallowed a throaty growl, struggling to regain his crumbling composure.

No. Not yet. He had plans for him; he could not allow his possessiveness to foil what he had so meticulously arranged.

The disgusting bastard would die soon enough.

The demon was close. He just needed him to walk a little further. The carriage was parked just fifty feet from where they were.

'Keep walking...'

Demiurge stalked as silently as a jungle cat, quickly closing the distance. When his target was right where he wanted him, he slipped the syringe from his breast pocket and wound an arm around his practically non-existent neck to cover his mouth while simultaneously plunging the needle into his carotid artery, pushing the plunger down.

The demon had to hold his breath now that he was up close and personal with the swine.

_'Holy Hell, this fucker stinks.'_It was a violent assault on his heightened sense of smell. He was glad he had a spare suit at the cottage, because he would have no choice but to change when this was all over.

A muffled cry was stifled against the demon's glove.

"You have _no idea_who you have fucked with." The Devil hissed in his ear, his words dripping venom. "You will welcome death with open arms by the time I am through with you."

The drug rapidly took effect and his prey went limp, and Demiurge hauled him with more than minimal effort into the cab of the carriage.

'Shit, how the Hell did you not crush her to death? Or suffocate her with your putrid stench?'_The demon actually felt sorry for his pet; how fucking awful it must have been to endure a single minute of being in an enclosed space with him, much less suffer the vile acts he undoubtedly subjected her to. _'It's no wonder you have to pay for sex.'

He glanced around, and as he had hoped, there were so few souls out at this hour his abduction was without witnesses.

Demiurge jumped up into the box seat of the carriage and lightly whipped the bicorns into a hasty trot before returning to the cab and tying his victim up.

He was going to do unspeakable things to this sack of shit for daring to defile his property. Demiurge would slowly saw his dick off with a rusty spoon. Repeatedly rape him with a barbed-wire phallus. Light his teeth on fire. Force-feed him his own excrement. Pour caustic acid in his eyes. Command Azazel rip his sac off. He was going to bring him to the very edge of death, heal him, and do it all over again.

And then he would let his pet have her turn to do as she saw fit with him.

Oh, this was going to be so satisfying.