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Chapter 2, Verse 1

I walked back to the camp slowly, mulling over what Destemper had told me. If he's right about Samtoil's interest, then Wren's perhaps just a bit more valuable then I had originally estimated. The fucker is nearly impossible for anyone to deal with though. The long years of its existence have driven it almost completely insane. There is that chance however that I could convince it to sell some of its secrets to me. That fiend knows things; ancient and terrible. And if it wants Wren then I'd be a fool not to assess just how much it wants her. There is still Cacophreya to consider though. I know my long-time ally would love to get her claws on Wren as well. She wouldn't be able to give me as much as Samtoil, but at least I'm certain of her interest.

I'm still deep in thought as I approach the entrance to my own camp. There's no gate, just a a wide gap between two small towers. The towers, if you could really call them that, are only about thirty feet high, though in this flat dessert outpost they're tall enough to be seen from most anywhere. Like most of Bane Dregus they look as though they're constructed with the least amount of effort possible, just a pair of small platforms set on top of a confused rat's nest of scaffolding. On occasion I'll have a pair of drakes perched on top, but tonight my scouts are all out roaming the wasteland.

My steward Missive is there waiting for me as I enter the small courtyard standing a pace ahead of a small group of my servants. The asmodai bows down deeply, kneeling on one knee and pressing a hand against the hard dirt ground, and with a dry hiss says, "Master."

"Anything I should know?"

Still staring down at the ground he says, "Your servant Starling is in the private cell, healing the young human. Reed is undergoing her cleansing at the court of Talondred as was ordained in the accord with him."

I nod down at the thin gray skinned serpent, "Very well. Get up, there's something I need for you to do for me tonight."

"Thy will be done."

"Go to Cacophreya and tell her that I'm coming to see her in the morning, and that I'll have my latest acquisition with me."

"At once, great lord."

I nod to my servant, then look to the four slaves standing behind him. My eyes fall on the shy, buxom rabbit I've named Silver, though she's careful to keep hers downturned, trying to make herself as invisible as she can. Walking past Missive, I place one of my clawed hands on Silver's shoulder and begin to lead her away saying, "And see that I'm not disturbed before then."

Silver stumbles next to me as I walk into the largest structure in my camp, a large open room that, although looks a bit like a warehouse or perhaps even a garage, serves as my parlor. I push her into the room roughly as I close the pair of doors behind us. I pause a moment to breathe in deeply, savoring the fear radiating off of the white furred rabbit girl crawling away from me and up against one of the room's large metal tables. I ignore her for the moment as I begin to walk around the room, gathering what I'll need. The terrified rabbit flinches each time I slap an item down onto the metal table top, a loud hollow thump reverberating in the cavernous space. She begins to pant slightly, her fear building at each item I add to the growing pile; rope, chain, weights, a paddle.

Although I've had her for almost a year now, Silver's still my newest slave, at least of the slaves that I keep for my own personal use. I've considered selling her a few times. Destemper and Talondred have both made offers in fact, but for what I need, she's particularly well suited. She's so alive, and so completely terrified of losing that life. I reach down and wrap my clawed hand around her neck tightly, cutting off her panting momentarily. Then with a hard yank I pull her up onto the table top, setting her down roughly before me. She coughs a few times when I release her throat, turning her head away from me, still trying to hide her eyes from mine.

Bend over, kneeling," I growl, and the rabbit moves quickly to comply, pressing her large breasts against the cold metal surface and pushing her shapely ass up into the air. She's been well trained, and knows that the slightest hesitation or disobedience will result in an even harsher evening then what I already have planned for her. Taking her ears in my claw, I tilt her head back sharply, forcing her to look up at me. "You know why you're here don't you?" I ask.

The girl swallows and says, "Because you want to hurt me master."

I nod, tightening my grip and pulling her face further upwards, "True, but why do you need to be hurt?"

She stammers a bit before saying, "Because that's what I'm for. That's what I'm good for."

I grin, tilting her head even further back, making her wince, though she stays kneeling. "And remind me again what happens to you when you stop being useful to me."

She shudders slightly at the thought, her eyes growing wet slightly with sorrow and pain, "You, you'll take me out into the dessert and give me to the specters... like Cinnamon."

I nod again and reach up under her with my other hand, digging my claws into one of her ample tits. The wasteland is filled with specters, ghosts, the souls of the slain, humans and demons without bodies. There is no where for them to go, not from here, so they wander endlessly in the wastes. They stay away from fiends like myself, they're terrified of us in fact, which keeps them away from Bane Dregus. They're attracted to lesser creatures that can easily be possessed though. And once the specters possess a creature, well it's not a pretty sight... to most people at least. The possessed ones seek out the dark places, caves, ravines, some under rocks even. And there they sit, torturing themselves. Indulging in every form of self mutilation possible, sometimes for years. Until their host body is used up and they have to go searching for another to destroy.

When Silver first joined me as one of my personal slaves, I saw to it that she became close friends with a red furred rabbit named Cinnamon. Cinnamon had begun to disappoint me though, and Silver was to be her replacement. A week after I had gotten rid of Cinnamon I took Silver out to see her. She was there, laying there among half a dozen other possessed ones, digging ferociously between her wide spread legs. She was pulling hard at her sex, yanking her cunt open while ripping chunks of flesh from her bleeding labia. The skin separating her pussy and asshole had already been ripped apart, so that her ass and cunt were just one large bloody hole. She had already ripped holes in her cheeks and pulled the lips from her mouth. One of her breasts looked as though it had been eaten.

Silver and I sat there for hours. She sobbed in my lap, as I whispered in her ears that there are worse things then being a slave. By the time we left her breasts had been completely healed by the specters that possessed her, though she had been in the process of beating a sharp rock against the side of one of her plump tits. Silver could see it in Cinnamon's eyes though, the terror, the pain, imploring us to help her. More then anything else, I think it's that look in Cinnamon's eyes that keeps Silver terrified of me. Knowing that will be her, the moment that she fails to be of use to me.

My hand lingers on one of Silver's large hanging breasts for a few more moments as I stand there reminiscing, my claws digging into the soft flesh as I alternate between squeezing hard and relaxing. She's short, only about 4'10, and could be described as fairly skinny except for her disproportionately huge breasts. Her tits are perhaps each as big as her head, a bit on the soft side so that they hang low on her chest when standing, but still firm enough to jut forward proudly. There's something mesmerizing about low and soft breasts, rather then high and firm. Something about the way they sway when she moves, or how they jiggle when slapped. Her thick pink nipples jut out far from her furred breasts. The aureole are only about an inch wide, but they extend at least an inch outward before being tipped with a thumb thick nipple that extends another half an inch when not aroused.

Finely I release her sore ears and pick the long length of rope from off of the table. Then, with her soft breasts dangling down towards the table top, I begin to coil the rope around the bases of her breasts. I pull tighter with each loop that I make, digging the rope into her tits a little further with each pass of the figure eight. Finely I tuck the end under the ropes as they cross between her tits and pull the knot tight. Her breasts begin to swell as the tight rope cuts off most of the circulation to her breasts, the nipples hardening as they jut out even further.

Then, with a quick yank on the end of the rope I pull her off of the table and hold her up in the air in front of me, suspended just from the rope tied around her breasts. She begins to scream, breasts bulging forward from the tight pressure. Smiling at her I rub a clawed hand over the surface of both of her tits. The flesh under her fur no longer feels soft, the swelling and pressure making them both rock hard. I feed the end of the rope through an eyelet in one of the overhead beams, tying it so that she'll hang like that from the ceiling, and position her so that her feet dangle three feet or so above the floor.

She's been in this situation before, so she knows better then to try to kick her legs out. I watch her closely as she concentrates on keeping herself still, trying hard not to start swinging. Her momentary screams have turned to whimpers as slowly she begins to calm herself. I wouldn't want this to be too easy for her though so I slap her hard, my palm landing solidly on the side of one of her breasts. I wouldn't want her to start spinning though, so I slap the other side as well, beating the sides of her breasts several times in quick succession. The effort left her spinning slightly from the rope, but not too quickly.

I walked back to the table and picked up the set of weights that I had brought over along with the ankle cuffs and a small length of chain. In short order her ankles are bound together with the chain dangling down between her feet. She hasn't experienced this yet, but she soon gets the idea as the ten pound weight is added to the end of the chain. It's a noticeable amount for a girl who barely weights ninety pounds to begin with, fifteen pounds of which is tit flesh. Her fur has grown glossy with sweat as her tits are pulled upwards by the rope, the tight constriction and slapping causing them to swell up even further then before. Her pink nipples have turned bright red and extend nearly two inches out from the furred surface of her breasts. She moans softly through her gritted teeth, knowing that whatever I have planned for her is far from over.

The next hour is spent alternating between savagely beating her breasts and adding more weight to her legs. At first I just use my hands, slapping the side, tops and bottoms of her breasts; sometimes grabbing them and squeezing hard or twisting them in my claws. As time goes on though I begin to use different tools. At thirty pounds I pick up a riding crop. Each blow of the crop landing on one of her nipples which begin to turn from bright red to dark red, then finely purple from bruising. At fifty pounds she's screaming, begging foe me to stop. I nod and smile down at her, as I show her the thin cane that I'll use instead. It's such a cruel instrument that I have to take my time with it. I stand there for several minutes, just flicking the tip of the cane over her bruised nipples. When I lash out with it it's sudden and with no warning. There's no scream this time. She just stands there with her mouth and eyes wide open, unable even to breathe. In total I only need to hit her ten times with the cane, but that enough to leave a network of angry red lines that criss cross the surface of her breasts. Her white fur is stained red from the blood welling up from underneath. There are even a couple of patches where her fur has fallen out.

Finely I add the last weight, bringing the total to seventy pounds hanging from her ankles. Her breasts look like they've swollen to almost twice their original size, and one of her nipples has split open. The weight has pulled and stretched them upwards though, and looking down at her feet I can see that she's hanging a good eight inches lower then when we first started. A few lines where I hit her with the cane can be seen on the tops of her breasts though the bottom of her tits have turned bright red. The blood soaked fur dripping steadily onto the floor below. Despite all of this however she still has strength in her to sob quietly as she hangs there before me, thanks again to the slight modifications that I make to all of my slaves which keeps them healthy, sensitive, and most importantly conscious, through whatever I choose to do to them. And I'm not quite yet done with this one.

I return to the table where I had laid out my equipment, brushing my claws over hooks, knives, a pair of vice grips, until they close over the handle of a large paddle. The wide flat portion of the paddle has a dozen inch wide holes drilled into it, perfect for creating welts. I grin and grip the handle tightly, then with a sudden quick lunge I cross the distance between us striking her full on with the paddle across both of her breasts with a wet crack of bloody impact. She screams louder then I've ever heard before. Again I pull the paddle back and swing it like a baseball bat, hitting her directly across the breasts with tremendous force.

As a demon I tend to see some events in slow motion. The third time I hit her is like that. Again I strike both of her breasts with the flat board, this time from the top. The impact of the paddle flattens her breasts against her chest with such force that they both burst simultaneously like ripe tomatoes, blood spraying from the sides and bottom. Scraps of flesh cling to the paddle as suddenly she's pulled downward, the ruined breasts slipping through the tight ropes. She crumples into a ball on the floor. Finely she does pass out, entering that pain induced catatonic trance I strive for. I feed from her then, drinking in her pain like a fine vintage of wine, standing there shuddering as the intense sensations flow through me. It's impossible to describe fully. It's a drug, addictive, compelling, but subtle as well. Finely I toss the gory paddle aside and say, "Missive."

As if he had been standing there the entire time my asmodai says, "Yes Lord?"

You can take care of this one for me, yes?"

He looks down at the crumpled bloody heap and says, "Of course."

I nod once and unbar the door, stepping out into the dim light of early morning.

Chapter 2, Verse 2

I grin broadly as I step into the dusty courtyard in the center of my camp. The buildings of my small camp are arranged in a circle around this wide flat area. My personal chamber behind me is the largest of the thirteen structures. The two towers that mark the entrance of the camp across from it. The other ten buildings are small sheds used for a variety of purposes, from slave pens, to slightly nicer slave pens. The sheds have been all been built from scavenged sheets of steel and other bits of wreckage, and though they look as though they're ready to fall apart, they're actually quite solid.

I walk across the court and step into the smallest of the ten sheds, where Wren had been brought the night before. I glance down at Starling, the clearly exhausted succubus kneeling at the still unconscious Wren's head. When she sees me she moves to stand, but I motion for her to stay kneeling as I squat down on the ground next to her and begin to inspect her work. There are a few flaws. A slight discoloration here and there, but overall the work is quite well done, considering that she had been missing her legs the night before. "Remarkable work. Your skills have improved."

The succubus grins happily and presses her hot body against mine, "Oh, Thank you Lord!"

I close my hand over one of her ass cheeks as I stand, keeping her against me. "Come see me in my chamber tonight after dark, perhaps I'll be in the mood to reward you." I give her rump a firm swat as I send her on her way, she giggles lightly and winks at me before leaving, her shapely tail swaying seductively as she leaves.

I turn my attention back to Wren frowning down at her for a second until she bolts upright in the small tight room. Upon seeing me she shrieks and scurries backwards, pressing her back against the rough steel side of the cell. I give the captive girl a wide smile, "I'm glad to see that you remember me. Come, we have work to do today you and I."

The girl snarls savagely and spits on the ground before me, but before she can say anything I punch her hard and fast in the gut, leaving her doubled over and groaning. "Stupid cunt... You're coming with me one way or another. Do you really want a repeat of what we did yesterday?" She turns her hate filled eyes up at me, and slowly stands up. I step aside and motion for her to walk out, which she does as defiantly as she can, ramming her tiny shoulder against me as she steps out. I grin again down at her as she passes, marvelous willpower this one.

Before she walks past my reach though I grab her by the shoulder stopping her, "One thing first though Wren. After yesterday I don't think you should be allowed to walk about uncollered." With my other hand I slap the wide leather band around her neck and tighten it snugly around her slender neck.

Her fists stay clenched at her sides as I collar her, "My name is Jed.. and I'm a man."

I shake my head, latching the leash onto the spiked leather collar. "No, it's not, and no you're not."

Again she turns on me and starts yelling, "You may have me in bondage Satan! But you can never change who..." Before she could finish the sentence though I yank her face up towards mine and press my mouth against hers. It only looks like a kiss for a second though until blood begins to dribble from either side of her mouth. Then with a quick yank I rip her tongue out of her mouth and swallow it with a small smile on my face.

Then, with blood still pouring from her moaning mouth, I tug on her leash, leading her out into Bane Dregus. "Come, it's time we got you appraised."

Carefully I lead my charge around the gaping pit that lies in the center of the makeshift outpost. Imps scurry around the rim, climbing in and out of the seemingly bottomless pit. Cacophreya's estate is on the opposite side of the outpost from mine, so skirting around the Maw is the quickest way there. Like much of the town, its original purpose is long forgotten. Presently the outpost's imps nest in its depths, the diminutive creatures perpetually spawning when they have no other work to perform. I've witnessed the throbbing core of the nest a few times myself, and even for a demon as jaded as I, it's difficult to imagine anything more profane and disgusting then the unholy orgy that lies at the bottom of that hole. I think the imps must feed off of perversion as strongly as we demons feed off of pain and suffering.

The air around the Maw is hot and pungent with the odors that rise from below. Wren, in a characteristic fit of unwisdom, looks over the edge of the Maw as we walk along its rim. She suddenly stops and I hear her begin to gag, then unable to stop herself, she turns away begins to vomit. She hasn't really eaten enough to do more then heave dryly and violently onto the pathway in front of her, which because of her recently severed tongue, is a most trying experience for her, though it actually gives me a bit of a shiver. Still, I have an appointment to keep, so I drag her forcefully along with me, though she coughs and moans for the rest of our little walk.

Chapter 2, Verse 3

Rhea is waiting for us at the gatehouse. Her thin wolfish face curls up into a cool smirk as she looks Wren up and down. "This is what you've brought us is it?"

I hand the reigns to the heavily muscled gladiator, "Just get her cleaned up and ready to go, you'll have an opportunity to see exactly what I've brought you soon enough." She shrugs and turns towards the large slave pen at the opposite end of the paddock with Wren following close behind, willing and eager to be led away from me, although if she knew Rhea better she may have been less so. At least I have a reason to keep her alive. After a moment I follow, heading towards the small ill kept building across the rocky flat that Cacophreya uses as her home.

In short order I'm sitting across from the younger demon, curled up on a pile of dirty furs on the floor of the smoke filled feast hall. She has a taste for the barbaric, an aesthetic which is easy to accomplish in a place such as this; surrounds herself with mismatched trappings Norse and Mongol, as well as a cadre of skilled and bloodthirsty warriors.

Cacophreya stretches and lets out a long lazy yawn, scratching her dark red fur, "Well, it's obvious that she has sprit, I'll give you that. It's not everything though. Can she kill? Enjoy it when she does?"

I nod slowly, sipping ... well something, out of a hollowed out skull. She's so old fashioned. "You know she can. Given the right motivation, some amount of justification perhaps, I think all humans can. This one acts pious, but it's nothing more then anger really. And anger can be directed."

She shrugs, "Yeah, I know all about anger... The bare bones are there, still her training will be difficult I think. Years perhaps before she's of any use to me. Did you have to build her so fucking skinny? You know I'll have to have her redone."

We've played this game countless times before, and it grows tiring. Eventually she'll come to the price that I already know is correct, but not before attempting to swindle me. Her pride will accept nothing less then at least a morning wasted away haggling and bickering. Her hospitality is acceptable at the very least, though I wouldn't go so far as making use of one of the breeders that her keeps around for her and her warrior's pleasure, at least not while talking business. Finely she comes to the point where she asks to see Wren in action, and I readily agree, though I rarely know what she has in mind. Whatever it is, I'm sure it will be more entertaining at least.

I follow Cacophreya out into the oppressive heat of the dessert, along with a small group of her more accomplished gladiators. Wren is standing in the middle of one of the smaller rings. She's looking much better then she did earlier, having been given an extensive tongue bath by the breeders, as well as some rudimentary healing to fix her mouth. It looks like they've equipped her somewhat as well. She's still wearing the collar that she had on earlier, but to that fetching ensemble Cacophreya's minions have added a pair of tight fitting leather gloves with steel blades that extend from the fingertips as well as a matching pair of high leather boots, each with long spikes set into the toe and heal. A tight belt is wrapped around her waist, which is connected to a steak in the ground by a short chain, keeping her standing basically in the center of the ring.

Cacophreya and I take seats in the stand overlooking the ring, which is really little more then a shallow and roundish depression in the large field in the center of the compound. The demon turns her hyena like face towards me and grins slyly, "So I hear your girl has taken a liking to some of our little helpers? I was thinking that we could see how they like her." She chuckles and gives the signal for the first of a series of cages to be opened, allowing a pair of flesh hungry imps to burst into the ring.

An aroused imp is an almost comic sight. They rarely grow taller then three feet, but their cocks almost always hang down past their knees. These ones have been kept in the cage long enough to have worked themselves into a lustful frenzy and hold their now rigid cocks in their clawed hands like spears as they rush my surprised slave.

Her instincts serve her well though, almost at least, as she lashes out with one of her spike tipped boot, thrusting the slender spike into one of their fist sized ball sacks. She overbalances though so when the one on the left leaps at her shoulder she tips over and falls onto the squealing creature.

She screams as the imp bites down hard on one of her overly large nipples. She tries to pry its head from her chest, but the imp hangs on stubbornly, jerking its head to the side even as she digs the gloves' blades into the imp's face. Her leg jerks spastically, trying to dislodge the other imp from the tip of her boot. I doubt she realizes that it's already dead, having bled profusely from it's torn femoral artery. Finely she manages to free her now cut and bruised nipple from the imp's mouth, and straddling it begins to violently pummel its face.

Cacophyra seems generally impressed with Wren's display of amateur savagery. With the first wave of assailants quickly dealt with, she gives a nod to the handlers who open the next cage, freeing another pare of the sex crazed imps. The hyena winks at me and pulls one of her knees up to her chest and absently begins to stroke her massive clit as she watches.

Wren doesn't notice the second pair of imps rushing up from behind until they slam into her back, tackling her from behind. The slender girl is thrown forward by the momentum, but the chain around her waist stops her from being pushed to the ground. Screaming she rolls over, clawing and kicking and one, and trapping the second beneath her. The one on top claws at her legs, trying to push them open even as he's being cut to pieces by her blade tipped claws, while the one on the bottom tries to reach low enough to grab at her ass. Wren screams again, this time when she opens the throat of the one above her, drenching her with it's blood. She tosses the limp body to the side and tries to get off of the one trapped beneath her, but as she gets up it clings to her back, digging it's feet into the tight belt and wrapping it arms tightly around her neck.

I can tell that she's beginning to tire. I fairly certain that she's already proven herself to my associate here, but the longer she can last the better. The muscular hyena grunts softly as she quickly and roughly slaps her golfball sized clit, the hard sensitive nub protrudes a good two inches from the top of her wet twitching cunt.

The third cage is opened and three more imps run cackling into the fray. She sees them coming, but when Wren tires to kick out the imp on her back bites her neck and she loses her balance, allowing the three to drag her down onto the ground. With two of the imps holding onto her arms tightly there's little Wren can to to keep the other two from straddling her chest. She kicks out with her legs but it only helps the one facing her feet a chance to get his claws between her thighs. Wren lets out a shrill cry as the first imp presses it's face to her cunt and bites down on my slave's thick cunt lips, which gives the other a chance to shove the head of his cock into her mouth.

Cacophreya is clearly enjoying the spectacle though. She lets out a loud moan as she grips her clit hard in her fist, digging the tips of her claws into it while simultaneously pushing her other hand into her cunt. As soon as her hand disappears up to the wrist she begins to cum hard, shuddering and growling.

Though it's obvious she's lost Wren continues to fight. The imp raping her mouth lets out a sudden scream as Wren bites down hard on his cock, not hard enough to bite it off, but enough to make it bleed. The imp howls in rage and begins to savagely beat her, punching her again and again in the face. Then with a sign from their still orgasmic demon mistress the handlers open up the last two cages, releasing the six remaining imps.

It's difficult to tell exactly what happens from that point on. The imps pile on top of her obscuring our view. Every once and a while though the mass of writing bodies on top of Wren part to reveal her wide spread legs, with sometimes as many as five imps sharing her ass and pussy at once. The imps aren't content with simply fucking her for long though and soon begin to degrade her in every way they know how.

Cacophreya's orgasm lasts at least another ten minutes. The demonic hyena snarling the entire time as she seemingly attempts to crush her enormous, and now bleeding clitoris in her claws. Finally she cries out, ripping her fist out of her pussy and arching her back sharply as a torrent of cum gushes out of her, soaking the entire row of seats in front of her. Exausted the demon slumps down into her seat and smiles slyly at the scene below.

By the time Cacophreya tells the wranglers to collect the imps Wren's fallen unconscious. No small feat considering the modifications that I'm made in her to prevent that. The imps are happily shitting into their hands and ramming their filth filled fists into Wren's every orifice, stuffing her like a turkey, and have to be beaten off of her, an act which kills two more in the process. The wranglers then each take one of Wren's shoulders, careful to touch the cum, piss, and shit smeared slave as little as possible as they drag her back to the slave quarters.

"I'll give you thirteen," she says, standing up and heading back towards her feast hall.

I nod as I follow, "A fair offer." Actually a little better then fair, though only just. "Still, there are other interested parties..."

The hyena grunts, "Take it or leave it. Any more and there'll be nothing in it for me."

"Of course," I say, "I'll let you know in two day's time."

"Yeah, all right then." She looks over her shoulder at me grinning, "So, care to feast with us tonight? I'll let you pick one out."

I nod and grin back at her, glancing over at the hall where a line of ample bodied slaves have lined up to meet us, "Mmm, I'd love to."