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Demiurge's plan could not have possibly played out more perfectly.

He had only expected his servant to immediately release him from his cell in the dungeon, but what had actually transpired instead only strengthened his case to own the human in every way. Not only did she prove she was a willing and consenting participant, she initiated what Sebas bore witness to, and when Demiurge resisted her advances, she literally asked for permission to please him. The Arch Devil honestly could not have found a better way to rub it in the Butler's face if he tried.

Lillith would no longer have to worry about hiding his marks from anyone, especially from Sebas.

Despite his overwhelming sense of victory, Demiurge was however still quite uncomfortable with how confident his servant was in touching him of her own accord and taking control, despite how well it had it interlaced with his act.

Ironically enough, if there was one thing that set the demon off, it was being touched without expressed permission by one he considered a Submissive. He had very few lines drawn in the proverbial sand when it came to carnal situations, and that was one he especially did not like to have crossed.

While he was never truly restrained, her cocky attitude and smart mouth when she believed he was had pissed him off. It seemed as though she was beginning to lose her fear of him.

Or was it respect?

Either way, he would not stand for it. He would have to break her of that behavior.

---

Two days later the Guardian of the 7th floor and Solution Epsilon had been summoned to the throne room.

Neuronist Painkill had been asked to torture a captured associate of The Eight Fingers gang who was suspected to know of who had used a World Class Item on Shalltear BloodFallen.

"Unfortunately, Neuronist was unable to extract the information." Solution reported back to Ainz Ooal Gown. "I apologize on her behalf. But Neuronist employed every weapon, psychological and physical, at her disposal. So I can confirm all that could be done, was."

While the Neuronist had done a thorough enough job with interrogation using her own methods of torment, the prisoner still would not crack_._

"Hmmm...perhaps he really does not know. Could it be possible that we were given a false lead?" Ainz speculated.

"I still think he's holding something back." Solution insisted, crossing her arms. "If I may humbly give my opinion, Lord, I believe he was trained to withstand certain forms of torture."

The blonde beauty had patiently stood by as Neuronist casually conversed with her victim, as if he would stop howling to talk about the weather while needles were shoved beneath his fingernails and a nightmarish tool which simulates the excruciating pain and sensation of kidney stones was used on him. When Solution could tolerate with the prisoner's agonized sobbing and screaming no more, she resigned herself to waiting outside the Room of Truth, twirling her spirals of golden hair.

"What do you think, Demiurge? As my Lead Strategist, how do you think we should proceed?" Lord Ainz asked for his input.

The demon suspected he knew where the root of the problem lie. Neuronist assumed all it would take to break the captive was what ruled nearly every living thing; fear of pain or death. The prisoner failed to crack because he did not care what happened to himself, as he was likely trained to accept the premise of his own demise and fight the ingrained instinct which overrides all in favor of his own self-preservation.

This is where traditional torture failed. What was lacking was knowledge of what, or who, he did care about. They were missing leverage.

If humans had one fatal flaw, it was caring for members of their own species to the point in which they would risk their lives in order to preserve another. It was often a genetically related individual; a child, a sibling, a parent. Sometimes a mate or lover.

All he needed to do was learn who mattered to him.

"I am pleased you value my opinion in this matter, Lord. If Solution believes he has been groomed in withstanding classic methods of torture, then might I try my hand at extracting the information? I believe my more...intense and psychologically jarring techniques will be successful in obtaining what we need." Demiurge suggested. "While I cannot promise he won't expire during the session, I can guarantee that I will know if he is telling the truth or deceiving us. If he is withholding something, I will get it out of him."

The Elder Lich carefully considered his offer for a moment.

"I don't see what we have to lose." Ainz said. "In fact, there would be much more to gain if you are successful. If there is someone in Yggdrasil using World Items on Nazarick's denizens, we must learn who it is and why so we may eliminate this enemy. So, yes, I will allow you to interrogate the prisoner. I expect a full report detailing word for word what was said during the session. Solution, transport the captive to the 7th Floor immediately."

"Very well, Lord Ainz." She gave her Master a brusque bow and made to exit the throne room.

"Solution!" Demiurge called.

"Yes, Lord Demiurge?" She asked, pausing in the doorway.

"Could I trouble you to heal the prisoner first? I would like to make fresh wounds." The demon said as the corners of his lips curled a sadistic smirk.

The blonde's smile mirrored his own with nearly equivalent evil intent. Predator to predator, she couldn't help but admire his talent to speak such cruel sentiments whilst appearing so refined and outwardly proper.

"But of course!" She said sweetly.

A human he was permitted to torment? To bleed out and make scream? How very fun!

"Most excellent!" Demiurge clasped his hands together and tried not to let the palpable glee in his fanged grin show too much, but he was helpless to stop his tail from wagging with all the unbridled excitement of a dog who had just been given a new bone to chew on. "I very much look forward to providing you with the desired intelligence, Supreme One."

"As do I, Commander. You never fail to exceed my expectations."

Demiurge felt his face heat from such lavish praise from his Supreme One, and immediately went to work carrying out his Master's command, eager to please his ruler.

Lord Ainz sighed once he knew the demon was out of earshot. He wasn't fond of needless suffering, but they must do whatever is necessary to find who used the World Item. Yet it still made him a little uneasy just how visibly excited the demon was about violently tormenting someone. But Demiurge was as Ulbert had made him; a destructive and sadistic creature.

Thank the Gods he was on his side. He would be scared shitless if he was his enemy. The Arch Devil's intelligence was unmatched and his cruelty was unrivaled.

Ainz then wondered if he really made a careless mistake in handing the girl over to him. Who knows what terrible things he was subjecting her to?

---

Lillith, being a simple servant, was not informed of what had been requested of Lord Demiurge. So needless to say, when she heard horrific screams and sobs echoing from his craft room, she was rather alarmed and had to see what the Hell was going on.

She crept out of her quarters and timidly called for her Master, but it went unanswered and he was nowhere in sight. Then she heard his normally silvery voice rumbling through the next room.

'Shit, he sounds pissed. Someone is in deep trouble.'

Some poor bastard was in there with him getting his ass chewed out. She stepped as quietly as possible, almost afraid to look.

But curiosity, as always with her, won over common sense.

The door had been left cracked. She cautiously peered around the corner.

She saw her master pacing back and forth like a caged lion in front of a man who was huddled in fear, his back pressed to the wall. Demiurge had the talons of his left hand extended, fangs bared, his features harshly hardened with rage. He lunged at him, and threateningly slashed the living scythes across the wall mere centimeters above the human's head. Shards of stone fell into the man's eyes.

She had trouble making out what exactly he looked liked as Demiurge obstructed much of her view as he bore down over him, but from what she could make out, he wasn't a Guardian. He appeared to be human, like her.

What was another human doing here in Nazarick?

The subject twisted his neck in discomfort; he was not restrained in any way, but he didn't dare move too much, recognizing his torturer as inhuman and very possibly psychotic. His strength was no match for the Arch Devil's, so there was no need for him to be bound.

"I'll never talk! You might as well just kill me!" The human bellowed, shaking his head and trying to blink the debris from his eyes.

The demon let out a sharp bark of laughter.

"And where would be the fun in that? Even if you refuse to tell me what I want to know, I fully intend on keeping you alive. If you are bled out or disemboweled, you will be healed and I'll simply find another way to make you scream." Demiurge said with an sinister smile, and grabbed the prisoner by his throat, lifting his feet off the ground with one hand. His talons erupted into flames, and once the long black points glowed red hot like molten iron he diminished the fire, and suddenly plunged his sharpened pointer finger through the human's shoulder. An agonized scream tore from his victim's throat.

He struggled, trying to strike out at his captor, and with pinpoint accuracy the demon's tail slammed into the cartilage of his left ear, one of the spikes piercing through it and holding his head fastened to the wall in place. The human shrieked and sobbed, his arms going limp at his sides. The demon leaned forward, invading his personal space as though to tell him a secret.

"I promise you, this will not be a torture session that ends unless I am given what I want." He growled into his right ear to ensure he was heard. "And I am very fond of collecting eyes...whether you keep yours or not depends entirely on when you decide to talk."

Demiurge then twisted the burning scythe embedded in his shoulder, making the human wail.

"So, I'll ask you again. Who used the item?" The Arch Devil inquired.

'Fuck, he's a prisoner?!'

The prisoner could only raggedly gasp, bodily shock setting in rapidly.

The demon ripped his tail backwards, and the sickening sound of shredding sinew was audible. A large chunk of the man's ear went with it, blood and cartilage slinging in a crimson arc across the room.

Lillith's stomach turned at the violent sight. And yet, she was hypnotized, completely rooted in place and unable tear her eyes away; she stared numbly in shock at what was unfolding before her.

Demiurge was nothing short of horrifying, yet utterly magnificent; he was in his element; all coiled, fiery rage and raw hatred, a flawlessly designed predator moving in for the kill, cruelly toying with his prey first before delivering a lethal blow. It was like watching a mountain lion take down a deer. While she typically wouldn't enjoy watching the death of another living creature, it was undeniably and morbidly fascinating, despite the scene's excessively violent nature. He moved with fluid grace, like water, smooth but deadly in a storm, with impeccable balance and flawless dexterity.

A choked sob emitted from the prisoner's throat. Demiurge dropped him hard to the floor, and he landed in a crumpled heap.

"My God..." He cried, his resolve breaking. He lost all balance, good portion of his cerebellum and his inner ear destroyed by the force of the strike, throwing off his equilibrium. Vertigo twisted him towards the floor, and as he tried to right himself he writhed in place like a serpent in death throes.

"God? And what God of yours is so just that he would have landed you here, in my hands?" Demiurge laughed hollowly, and grabbed his face under the chin, sinking his claws into the flesh of his face, forcing him to look into his startling crystalline eyes.

"You ARE going to tell me what I want to know. Or this will become much, much more violent." He hissed venomously.

'Fuck me, how much more violent can this get?!' Lillith thought.

The toxic malevolence in his voice was enough to send chills slithering down her spine. It made her realize just how easily he could have unleashed such horrific torment on her for her disrespectful insolence only a few days ago. She honestly couldn't believe she got off as easily as she did.

But this was a much needed reminder that her Master truly was a DEVIL.

"Go...go to Hell..." The prisoner muttered in between gasping breaths.

"And just where do you think you are, when you are being tortured by an Arch Devil?" Demiurge said flatly with a grin gracing his lips again, stepping on his captive's ankle to keep the limb still; he then slammed his spiked tail into the prisoner's kneecap, the bone instantly shattering like glass on impact.

The subject cried out hoarsely and he slumped further to the floor, his other limbs drawing up to his body in a manner similar to a dying spider, blood pouring out of his wounds. He coughed raggedly, his voice shredded from his screams.

The demon mercilessly tore his tail out of his knee, earning another guttural yell, and he crouched down to pull the prisoner back up by his shoulders. He again grabbed his face to look him in the eye.

"Do you have family?" Demiurge asked, his voice tight with command.

The prisoner did not respond. Even his gasps of pain were suppressed by the question, and he averted his gaze from his captors crystalline eyes. He had something, or someone, to hide.

Demiurge stood and then kicked him hard in the shoulder, mercilessly landing his heel directly in the fresh wound. The man choked out a strangled cry.

"Do you have family?" The demon repeated, carefully reading his reaction.

The man still said nothing, but as an expert in advanced interrogation, it was all too obvious to the Guardian that he did.

"Tell me their names." He demanded.

Not getting a response fast enough for his liking, Demiurge shoved his pointer claw deeply into his broken kneecap, and with a wet crack it pierced straight through to the other side of his leg. The human's mind shattered, his threshold of pain finally exceeded.

After a long, drawn out scream, and nearly blacking out from the agony, the prisoner finally admitted he had a younger sister.

The demon adjusted his spectacles, and looked the man up and down.

He had golden blond hair and pale blue eyes, and was probably in his mid to late twenties. It was quite likely his sister shared similar genetic traits. In fact, she probably looked very much like and was approximately the same age as his servant.

That was all the ammunition the demon needed.

Lillith was genuinely stunned by the horror she had just witnessed, so much so she had momentarily stopped breathing; the level of violence was so shocking she had been rendered silent this whole time and her legs cramped from being frozen in place. She had witnessed horrific abuse and sadistic treatment in the brothel, but nothing to this degree; this was downright sociopathic. Again, she reminded herself for the millionth time that he is a demon, and this was his nature, albeit the much darker side of it. Why would she have expected anything less vicious and unforgiving?

Then Demiurge sensuously drug his bloody talon across his tongue.

"Mmmm..." He hummed, his eyes sliding shut as he relished the metallic taste of his victim's blood and licked his fangs.

Remembering just how sinfully skilled he was with that tongue, she bit her lip as she felt the muscles below her waist involuntarily clench.

_ "Memory Projection Illusion." _ Demiurge waved his arm a he cast a spell on the prisoner. Glowing wheels of purple light adorned with ancient hieroglyphic runes rotated in front of his field of vision.

"Mind Wipe: Frame of Five Seconds." He then erased the last five seconds of the human's memory so he forgot that he revealed the fact that he had a sister.

Demiurge then caught a familiar, sweet scent drifting into the room.

To Lillith's horror-addled mind, the Arch Devil's savage face turned seemingly in slow motion to meet her frightened gaze.

'Just who I was looking for...' His eyes were glazed with hate and blood-lust, and they narrowed at her.

The color drained from her face as he trapped her within the ice of his murderous stare.

'Oh shit... I shouldn't have seen any of this.'

---

Demiurge swiveled his body with sinister intent and stalked towards the doorway. She turned to flee and made it only two steps before one powerful arm caught and wrapped around her neck, dragging her backwards into the blood spattered room. She cried out in alarm and struggled, but even with him using his one arm to restrain her, it was useless. All around she saw a disturbing amount of blood streaking the floor and walls, and the room smelled strongly like copper and the salt of tears. His worktable was lined with sharp tools for precision cutting, puncturing, and some she was unsure of what their main function was; but she decided she didn't want to find out.

As soon as the prisoner saw her, what little resolve he had left began to crumble. Lillith watched with mounting anxiety as terror bloomed on his face. She was overcome by a sickening sinking feeling in her stomach as she recalled the nightmare she had of the man in shackles, and thought the prisoner was afraid of her as the man in her dream had been.

The demon positioned them before the captive, his servant in front of him like a human shield, a hostage.

Demiurge had altered his perception with the spell. He did not see an unfamiliar face in his tormentor's grasp; he saw his younger sister in the clutches of a monster.

"Let her go, you sick bastard! She has nothing to do with this!" He roared with rage, a fire of determination returning within him. He braced weakly against the floor and tried to stand but with his shoulder deeply pierced, his shattered leg useless, and his sense of balance now nonexistent, he only managed to flop on the ground like a fish out of water.

To Lillith's relief, he was afraid for her, rather than of her. For some reason the prisoner acted like he knew her but she had never seen him before in her life. It must have something to do with whatever spell Demiurge cast upon him.

His servant felt her Master's hot breath fan across her neck as he chuckled, and she panted as his grip around her neck was tight enough to greatly limit her air supply.

"Please, do-don't hurt me..." Lillith pleaded.

She was sure this was it, her real punishment for her insolence was about to be dished out. She wondered if she would wind up being just another dark, greasy spot the next servant would have to scrub out of the floor.

Just a forgotten stain on the ground.

"Let her go? No, I intend to keep m_y personal plaything_ for as long as she lives. Which, in my possession, won't be very long at all." Demiurge hissed, and buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent deeply. He then ran his tongue over her pulse point, all the way up the side of her face, in a rapist's promise. Goosebumps rose beneath the hot trail his tongue seared over her flesh. Reaching her ear, he whispered.

"Obey, and I won't hurt you." He bargained with her. "Now, call him brother, and beg him for help."

Lillith had hardly absorbed the words before her master lifted his long, deadly talons and placed the point of one against her front, ever so carefully; the harsh sound of tearing fabric cut through the tension of the room as he neatly sliced downward in between the valley of her breasts, all the way to her navel, peeling her maid's dress open. There was now a large gap showing a considerable portion of her breasts and bare stomach to the total stranger. She went completely rigid with shock and utter embarrassment. He then retracted the razor sharp claws.

'Brother?!' Lillith's senses and mind were reeling. 'What the Hell is happening?!'

"Don't you dare touch her!" The prisoner roared, and again tried to rise from the floor, ultimately failing.

"Do as I say_._" Her master growled impatiently in her ear, tightening the arm around her neck threateningly.

Demiurge then threaded his hand through her golden hair, roughly jerking her head back to lecherously lick her again and she shivered.

"It's far too late...I already have, and do touch her, as often as I please_..._" The Arch Devil said tauntingly, and delicately circled the bite marks on her collar bone with a claw, his deadly tail still smeared with blood wrapping around her legs and waist, holding her to him possessively.

While Demiurge had given her a potion that repaired the damage he caused after their last encounter, the many deep bite marks and scratches from earlier trysts still remained as that particular potion only heals wounds received within the prior twenty four hours. She was essentially a canvas with his signature painted all over her in angry red strokes.

The prisoner's eyes roamed her marred body, and while his face reddened with rage at the sight of deep scars and bites, Lillith's flushed with utter embarrassment. This was growing increasingly uncomfortable and awkward for her.

"He-help me, brother..." She finally whined, trying to sound convincing, but she knew it was a weak performance. She hoped this bizarre fiasco would be over quickly if she obeyed.

Despite her amateur acting, the illusion Demiurge projected was all that was needed to sell it. The man was rapidly losing blood, and with it his focus and attention to detail was getting fuzzy. Lillith begging for help while wearing his sister's face was just the icing on the cake.

The demon's hand untangled itself from her locks and slipped downward to then cradle her right breast, and her lips parted as she gasped. Even if it was all for show, it still sent a surge of fear-tinged arousal through her as he had never touched her there before.

"G-get your fucking hands off of her!" He grew increasingly enraged but was still helpless to stop the Guardian. Every time he tried to move he was spun in several directions at once by vertigo.

"Then you will tell me what I want to know, or my hands, among other things will indeed, be fucking her." Demiurge said with a conniving grin, cruelly twisting the man's words to his advantage.

Lillith's blood heated at his vulgar and profane threat, but after the insane level of cruelty her master had displayed, her fear of him was reignited.

The Arch Devil locked his glacial gaze with the prisoner's, and intently smoothed one hand down her back, over her plump rear and squeezed, his talons lightly pricking into her skin, and she let out a startled squeal.

His servant's heart flipped into her throat as she realized this wasn't just a threatening display to get the man to talk. He fully intended to molest her in front of him if it meant extracting whatever information he needed.

"Cry for help. Fight." He hissed in her ear. She felt his brazen hand hook around her panties and tore them off roughly, stinging the inside of her thighs like rope burns. He held the shredded material up momentarily and made sure the captive saw it before casting it aside.

By the way his eyes widened he knew the threat was real.

"You know how to stop me." The Arch Devil said, his voice as edged and level as the blade of a knife. The prisoner anxiously swallowed, but still gave away nothing.

Demiurge smoothed his hand over her ass again, slipping down lower and brushing two gloved fingers over her slit. He applied just the slightest pressure, making her gasp loudly, her head falling back onto his shoulder.

"Help me, please...!" His servant cried out, and she tried to twist out of her master's iron grasp, but he held her fast.

"Mmmm...a screamer and a fighter. I look forward to having you struggling helplessly beneath me..." The Arch Devil purred, antagonizing the captive as he put on an act to imply they had never met.

"In fact, allow me take this opportunity to introduce myself to you both. I am Lord Demiurge, Guardian of the 7th Floor and Commander of Defenses, expert in advanced interrogation and intelligence gathering."

The Arch Devil lowered his face to Lillith's ear to murmur loudly enough for the prisoner to hear: "Remember my name, little sister. For soon enough, you will be screaming it."

Lillith's face flushed deeper. She again found herself to be both completely terrified and enthralled by him.

'Fuck, he's so terrifying and sexy and evil , I could... no, I probably should just fucking die because NONE OF THIS is okay!'

The prisoner clenched his teeth, his face hardened with fury. He desperately wanted to release whatever he was holding back, but either couldn't or wouldn't.

The torturer shifted his grip for better control. This would be grandly entertaining for him, whether he got the desired information or not.

"Even with your dear sister in my grasp, you will still hold your tongue? In that case, you will not mind of I do this..." Demiurge's voice trailed off as he pushed his fingers deeply into her, sinking in to the knuckle. Lillith shrieked as her internal walls quivered around his digits at the invasion, and he teasingly stroked from within before curling them back, earning another gasping cry from her as he skillfully grazed the hidden bundle of nerves. She whimpered and whined, and to the prisoner she seemed to be in the worst kind of distress.

But Demiurge knew better. He could smell her arousal spiking by the second and it pleased him to no end.

"Good girl..." He whispered in her ear, and then lightly nipped the delicate shell, and she shivered in shameful excitement.

As awkward as the situation was and despite her rekindled fear of her master, Demiurge's fingers inside of her did not feel any less pleasurable or fulfilling. In fact, the sense of danger oddly enough heightened her sensitivity. Still, she closed her eyes, unable to bear looking at the stranger.

'I shouldn't be wet right now. This should not feel good- Someone is bleeding out just feet away! What the fuck is wrong with me?!'

"You like being watched, don't you?" The demon hissed too quietly for the captive to hear. "Filthy girl." He chuckled.

The Arch Devil was just loving this. It was corruption at its absolute finest. His pet was proving to be a twisted little thing, and he couldn't be more thrilled.

If she enjoyed being watched, who knows what else she may be open to?

It opened the door to all sorts of debauchery. The possibilities were endless, and Demiurge thrived on sexual entertainment. To say he was a nymphomaniac was an understatement. He was always seeking the next thrill, that next level of depraved.

For an Incubus, this was normal behavior. To humans, he would be defined as a hardcore sex addict.

Most of his servants he had fucked (or raped) a few times and if they managed to survive more than a week, he'd escalate to more aggressive sex. The majority in their desperation would try to escape the 7th Floor when they realized how much danger they were in, and would be inevitably be caught and killed by Greed or Envy or another one of his subordinates. The ones too frightened to flee remained, and eventually withdrew into a shell of traumatic shock and failed to continue to excite him, and that was their downfall. If they were coherent, they would refuse to participate in the next level of what he desired, or called what he wanted disgusting or did something or another to displease or infuriate him. His last servant committed suicide by his hand when she could take no more. She was utterly terrified of him, and he couldn't even get close to her without her screaming, which quickly grated on his nerves. Had she not purposefully set him off, he would have eventually offed her by choice.

Lillith had so far been the most promising and satisfactory. He was well aware that her head trauma is most likely why she displays behavior aberrant of the usual human and lacks proper fear, but if he could continue to exploit that for his own purposes, he was only too happy to do so.

There was so much he could teach her, train her in and make her that much more useful to him.

'As long as she doesn't break from the way this will inevitably end.'

Her Master fluidly flexed his digits in and out of her heat, and his servant dug her nails into his arm for support when her legs went weak beneath her. His hands had already accurately mapped her internal weaknesses, and he was quickly bringing her to the edge.

'I have to hold back, I can't do it...I can't come from this. I'm sick like him if I do.'

Lillith squeezed her thighs together and whined, biting her tongue in hopes that the pain would serve as a distraction from the imminent tightening in her loins.

Demiurge's middle finger then swirled around her g-spot, and he rumbled against her back as he felt her tension, her resistance. He could sense she was confused, conflicted.

"Don't fight it. Be a good girl and come for your Master." He secretly whispered, the order given softly but laced with that same steel thread of command.

A choked cry clogged her throat. She didn't want to, but it felt electric. And he was giving her an out, a reason to let it happen.

"Come for me, pet." He insisted.

He ordered her to. So she had to obey, right?

The demon's hand left her throat to cover her mouth, muffling the inevitable moan of ecstasy as his expert fingers probed and teased that exquisite spot so perfectly that she couldn't stop it, even when she really wanted to. Lillith huffed through her nose, every muscle in her body clenching almost painfully tight as molten heat pooled low in her belly and then released in a slow, shameful throbbing euphoria. He let out a shuddering exhale in her ear as he felt her clench around his digits, and he licked his lips and practically purred with satisfaction as she came on his fingers harder than she ever had.

And as much as she hated it, it was fucking intense, and seemed to last forever. She had to close her eyes so the prisoner wouldn't see them roll back into her head, and she just hoped the amount of fluids she released would give him the impression she had pissed herself from fear.

The result of his ministrations trickled over his black glove, and the Arch Devil let out an intrigued hum.

"And she's already so very wet for me..." He observed with utmost satisfaction, and his venomous gaze burned into his prisoner, daring him to allow his torment to resume.

"I'll fucking kill you, you son of a bitch!" The man roared, his voice growing hoarse, but he was too weak to move, blood loss and shock rapidly draining his strength.

"No, you are going to lie there, quite uselessly and slowly bleed out, while I viciously rape your sister in front of you." Demiurge said matter-of-factually.

Lillith's heart dropped into the pit of her stomach at that predacious comment.

"That is, unless, you graciously decide to tell me what I want to know." He added, removing his fingers from her. Lillith groaned internally at the loss of fulfillment.

The prisoner howled in rage and frustration as he tried to drag himself towards the demon in one last valiant attempt to stop the monster. The Arch Devil removed his hand from her mouth and laughed condescendingly and drug her backwards out of reach. He had lost too much blood already and didn't get far.

"Not even with her virtue at stake? That's rather disappointing...for her." Demiurge's hand closed on her throat, just under her chin.

"Brother, please!" Suddenly shocked by the clutching hand, Lillith squeaked out as her very real panic played into the illusion her master had created.

The demon wasn't squeezing too hard, just holding her to himself, but her bark of alarm that was smothered in his severe-looking grip aligned well into the act. His sharp jaws brushed the back of her neck as they opened wide, his fangs snagging on her skin.

Lillith held as still as possible. Her feet were barely touching the ground, and she could breathe only with effort.

'Fuck, he's going to kill me!'

He said he wouldn't, but that was hard to believe when he had her by the throat.

The Arch Devil made it appear as though he were ready to bite through her spinal cord, but did nothing more, just clutched her and breathed - motionless, waiting, testing what the man might do.

The prisoner only watched in horror, mouth agape and yet he still managed to hold his tongue.

Her master's unmoving grip was overwhelmingly daunting. His fingers were solid and tense around her neck and he was a pillar of obdurate fate at her back. The air in her lungs fumed as her heart pounded wildly in her ears. She resigned herself to what could very possibly be her last few moments of life and leaned back into his strength, trying to keep herself upright should her feet slip from beneath her and his grip tighten even more. When she did, she felt his prominent erection urgently pressing into the small of her back. His servant inhaled desperately as his spiky fangs grazed at her tender flesh.

Surprisingly, the prisoner remained tight-lipped. So Demiurge would have to step up his game.

A tremor passed through the demon's jaws, pricking her skin. A hair-raising growl rolled from the Arch Devil's throat, then he pressed his burning tongue to the nape of her neck, swiping slowly across the skin.

His hand abruptly released her throat and lowered, grabbing a handful of her torn dress and flinging her down hard over the worktable. The many metal tools clattered from the force, a few rolling off and hitting the floor. She landed heavily, face-down on the wood, and gasped for air as the body-slam knocked the wind out of her. She looked over her shoulder at the Arch Devil, and his returning stare was unrepentant with feral hunger. Still stunned by the sudden impact, she was motionless as her master took a menacing step closer towards her, and when he ripped the remaining cloth away from her body.

"Any last words before I desecrate your lovely sister beyond redemption_?_" The Arch Devil offered as he roughly grasped her hips. Regaining her breath, she yelped and desperately tried to reach for the far edge of the table. He cackled as he harshly drug her backwards, a hiss escaping through her teeth as the rough surface threatened to splinter her underbelly and breasts, her nails leaving shallow grooves in the wood. He maneuvered her body so her bare rear end was flush with his heated crotch. Her heart pounded hard against her ribs, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.

"There's no use in fighting me, poor little sister. Unless your brother talks, I will be taking what I want from you, and I promise, it will hurt." Demiurge hissed with a sinister fanged grin, forcefully bucking against her. Her lips parted as she felt the intense warmth emanating from his hardness through the fabric of his pants. She felt slickness growing on her thighs in response to the promise of his fulfillment.

She shouldn't want this.

This was a cruel and sadistic thing they were doing; tricking this man into believing she was his sister and in danger of being violated just to get whatever information her Master needed. It was beyond sick.

Yet she did want him to fuck her, here and now. And she hated herself for it.

It made feeling bad for being caught masturbating seem downright laughable.

"You like being watched, don't you?"

As much as she hated to admit it, she supposed she did. What other explanation was there?

The demon hovered over her, possessively caging her with his arms. He licked his lips, his metal-plated tail caressing the back of calf.

She was briefly startled when the demon's wings loudly unfurled out of his back and flexed, another inhuman feature revealed to the prisoner as a final scare tactic to try to elicit the desired information. They swept up to enclose her, and in the dim amber light within its wings, his eyes gleamed ravenously.

Demiurge reached between them and unfastened his pants to free his member, flicking his diamond eyes back to the man's, his diabolical grin stretching. The fear on the man's face intensified as he glimpsed the frighteningly thick girth that would be forced inside what he believed to be his sister.

The demon aligned himself, fisted Lillith's hair and grasped her hip, shifting in preparation to push his way in.

Lillith felt the silken head of his cock press against her slick entrance. Her eyes flew wide open, unintentionally locking with the prisoner's as she felt the demon's pulse throbbing through it.

The prisoner hoarsely screamed out a name and hideout location. The Arch Devil froze in place.

"...Is there anything else I need to know?" Demiurge inquired, carefully watching his face for tells of deception.

"No, I swear...that is all I know." He muttered, casting his eyes downward afterwards in defeat. If he didn't die here, he would certainly be killed by the Eight Fingers for revealing the location and name of the leader of their branch. Word of mouth was this leader knew who used the Item, but that was information he had overheard from another associate that was drunk off his ass.

But at least he saved his sister from being violated any further by this monster.

"Thank you for your cooperation." He praised the prisoner, satisfied that he was honest with the information. He then looked down at his intended prey beneath him, feigning disappointment.

"...But I'm afraid that once I've set my sights on something..." He muttered with a sad sigh.

"...It becomes mine." He lunged forward, burying himself to the hilt inside his servant. Lillith arched under the forceful invasion, a strangled cry tearing from her lungs.

"Noooo!" The prisoner howled. "You fucking bastard! I told you everythi-"

Demiurge released her hip and swept a scalpel off the table, flinging it towards him with remarkable accuracy. It hit its mark, embedding in his jugular, silencing him as his own blood filled his lungs. The captive slumped to the ground, gasping for air like a fish out of water as he began to slowly die, exactly as the Arch Devil said he would.

"Perhaps, but that doesn't stop me from being hard, now does it? And with your lovely sister's lovely backside beneath me, I just simply cannot help myself..." He said as he thrusted again, his lip curling as he relished the hot, tight passage surrounding him, and Lillith keened.

Despite being given the desired information, Demiurge continued the act, as he cold-bloodedly wanted the prisoner to die still believing he raped his sister.

---

There before him was that demon, no, that monster, painstakingly clenching his stomach muscles, curling his hips into his sister's body. He tried not to watch, tried not to vomit from the sight. He attempted to swallow, but couldn't; his thoughts and emotions were scattered and broken by intense pain and shock, he hurt in so many places, in so many ways simultaneously.

But regardless of his swimming head, he lucidly burned with the knowledge that he shouldn't be witnessing this unholy act, yet he couldn't manage to look away. He was entranced, and revolted at the same time. Though across the room, he clearly heard his sister keen when the vile demon found a tender spot.

It was not a cry of pain, or loss of purity. It was wanton, imploring, urging the Arch Devil on. The demon was thoroughly enjoying this perverse act, and wickedly and strangely enough, so was his victim. Her tender human flesh, which should only be touched by a man, was being caressed and inflamed by this genuinely evil spawn of hell. He tried to swallow again, but something was still in the way. He was suddenly so cold...but he didn't, couldn't shiver. He couldn't move at all. His vision blurred, then dimmed, and he slipped into darkness.

---

Demiurge watched with morbid interest as the prisoner's body weakly twitched as his blood, and life, drained away. He leaned down over his servant, all the while grinding against her.

"Lord Ainz will be quite pleased with your assistance in this matter... as am I." The Arch Devil commended Lillith with a smug grin.

Her tongue was numb, and she was afraid to look back at him as the full gravity of the situation was finally weighing down on her like a pillar of lead.

The prisoner stopped moving.

Because he died.

No, he was murdered.

And she was involved.

She had just witnessed an extremely gruesome torture session which ended in vicious murder, all by the hand of her inhuman master. Being involved as heavily as she was made her feel as though the man's blood was on her hands as well. Demiurge had cruelly used her to extract information by swindling the captive into believing she was his sister and he was going to rape her; and even went so far as to upkeep the illusion until he drew his last breath. He could kill her just as easily as he did the prisoner, and there were many times when she thought he might. And who would bother to stop him?

Her silence spoke volumes.

"I see...you are afraid of me again, as I just violently tormented and destroyed a member of your race." He said quietly. "As you should be. I use you for physical labor, for sexual pleasure, and an outlet for my hatred of humanity. I know your every weakness, and I use them to my advantage at every opportunity. To put it in simple terms, I am quite the cruel and manipulative owner. I must be an absolute monster in your eyes." He callously admitted, and with very little emotion in his voice, as though this stone cold truth held no weight on him.

To her surprise, he then pulled out of her, and lowered himself to her ear.

"And you would not be wrong to fear me. I am all that is evil; I am hatred, lust, greed, cruelty, and destruction." His voice was no longer silver rolling of his tongue; it took on a hard and unforgiving edge of steel.

"I crave power, hunger for carnal pleasure and pain, desecration of the body and corruption of the mind." But when he said this, there was frost and fire in his words. He ran his tongue over the shell of her ear. She trembled beneath him, the hair on the back of her neck flaring in primal fear of the diabolical predator bearing over her.

"But whether you like it or not, I am your Master. And I chose you to take what I want from, so you will obey me without question. You can learn to like it, or end up like the rest." He hissed through bared teeth.

An icy chill slithered down her spine at that vague yet very evocative last part.

'You can learn to like it, or end up like the rest.'

That stain on the floor that he had her scrub. That was his last servant. One of "the rest".

Who knows how many there were before her?

Every fiber of her being was screaming at her to run like Hell. She was just about to make a move to escape, as useless as she knew it might be, when her thoughts were demolished as in a single frenzied motion, he grasped her hips and swooped down to plunge his face between her legs.

He drew his tongue languorously along her lower lips, tasting the moisture that slickened them, then closed his whole mouth over her. Lillith let out a gasping cry of surprise, and couldn't have gotten up now if she'd wanted to; all the fight had fled from her muscles, and she fumbled blindly at the table under her, grabbing the far edge to hang on for dear life.

'Fuck, NO! TH-this is so wrong...it shouldn't feel good,'

But it did.

'...he's a monster, a murderer; I'm a horrible person, I'm going straight to Hell!'

He began devouring her with his mouth aggressively. The demon knew all the sweet spots, and played them mercilessly.

There was no winning against this. Against HIM.

She panted raggedly and moaned as the excruciating torment of his tongue sent wave after wave of rolling warmth through her body, draining her tension, and with it, her resistance. A black gloved hand on each thigh held her vulnerably spread open for the predator and she felt like herself liquefying beneath his perfectly calculated ministrations, molten pleasure charging through her veins. She would have been beyond terrified if she wasn't writhing in rapture.

'If I fight him, I'll end up like the rest. I have to let this happen, or he'll kill me. And I would really rather not die like that poor bastard.'

She had to do this. She had to. All she had left in this world was her life.

Though it belonged to the Devil.

The demon's head angled slightly and he clamped down on the inside of her thigh, with just enough force to pierce through the sensitive skin. Just as an alarmed cry began to flee her throat, his tongue's assault continued, turning her shriek into a wailing caterwaul. A pleased growl rumbled from his sharp mouth as he had gotten a taste of her sweet blood, sending fresh shocks through her tingling, melting flesh.

'Learn to like it. Please him, and you might survive.'

She was helpless to stop her body from reacting from his onslaught. Storms of electricity built in her loins, growing to envelop her body, stealing the breath from her lungs. The Arch Devil then unexpectedly sank his claws in deeply into her skin, drawing more blood; a sweet spasm swept through her, striking a bolt of fierce agony into her brain as it shook her body and she mewled in both pain and pleasure. He paused, and she looked back at him, imploring him to not stop despite how it hurt, and he locked his crystalline eyes with hers.

"I can hate you, and hurt you. But no matter how much I make you bleed, you will always want more..." She knew this was was not a demand, or an order. It was truthful observation, and one that she could not dispute. No matter how much pain he caused, how much terror he instilled in her, she would always crave what the demon had to give her, what he sometimes even forced upon her. He truly possessed her, owned her.

Somehow, Demiurge knew her better than she knew herself.

He returned his mouth to his servant, and she moaned in desperation as he fucked her relentlessly with his unholy but heavenly tongue.

An occasional scrape of his fangs against her tender, swelling folds only served to intensify the sensations, a heart-pounding reminder that at any second he could severely mutilate her if he so wished.

"...You will always submit and come for me." He concluded, again plunging deeply into her folds, driving her over the edge.

Demiurge's name tore unheeded from her mouth as her body quaked, powerless against the Devil and his merciless mouth as she came again with a scream.

Her master grinned against her and reined her in, with tantalizingly slow laps. The exquisite, crushing convulsions that had ruled her body eased away with a fading flutter.

Satiating his hunger, his tongue plunged back between her folds, joining his finger to tease forth more and more of her nectar. Demiurge had known it from the first moment he'd tasted her, the first time he'd smelled her even, he knew that once he had her, he would never have enough. There was so much about the human body that differed from demons; there was a certain delectable quality about them, a palatable rawness that so well complimented the evolutionary refinement of Incubi. Everything from their fluids to their smells, it was all so delicious. He didn't know what it was about Lillith, but she tasted and smelled particularly sweet...like peaches and lilies. It was enough for him to get drunk off of.

The demon stood and looked down at her, wiping his mouth with the back of his glove, slowly, deliberately. His wolfish grin returned to sharpen his regal features with carnivorous hunger.

"Master..." She breathily moaned, her eyes begging him to continue his torture in any way, shape or form. It was just as he said, she indeed wanted more, and always would.

The Arch Devil assumed his previous position, again trapping her under his arms, lowering himself onto her, his rigid cock seeking out her warm, moist sheath.

Lillith let out a gasping wail as he slid inside her, the fullness she craved sinking deeply. He stilled as he bottomed out, savoring the sinful sensation before withdrawing and plunging again with ardent intensity.

Demiurge lowered his head beside hers. In her peripheral she could see his jaw clenching, teeth bared as he plundered her. Every inch of her flesh was keenly sensitive; she felt his painfully taut muscles tensing beneath his suit, every movement of his thick organ inside her as it probed deep within, caressing his way almost free, then slamming back into her heat, the demon's weight and strength pounding against her rear.

He changed the angle as he inclined further forward, crushing her neck down with a unforgivingly firm hand, holding her face flat against the table as he rammed her harder. She cried out against his intensifying use of force, her high pitched cry cresting into a scream. A deep groan tore through his chest as she tightened around him, spasming.

The demon licked the side of her face lecherously when she came for him again, wailing his name; but kept going at the same agonizingly aggressive pace. He breathed heavily, his wings flaring outward. His grasp on the back of her neck became tighter, bruising.

Deadly.

Her skin tingled, every sensation amplified; the Arch Devil's groans no longer heard, but felt through her back. The sound of her own labored breathing masked the rushing in her ears. The tingling sensation flowed to her lips, her fingers, then to her toes, becoming a numbness. She realized dimly that this numbness was spreading, that her entire body was crying out, screaming as it was starving for oxygen. The Arch Devil continued to brutally ravage her, and either he was unaware or simply did not care that he was suffocating his servant in his unrelenting grasp.

Or was it simply shock setting in?

No words came to her lips, and she began to slip out of consciousness as his iron grip suffocated her.

The hand suddenly released her neck and she cried out, open-mouthed, twisting beneath her master's spasmodic penetration, oxygen finally refilling her lungs. He seized her as she coughed and pulled her back by her hips hard onto his cock, forcing his way in deeper, bearing down over her like a dragon over his coveted hoard.

"Fuck!" The Arch Devil snarled and then moaned, long and low in ecstasy as he exploded. His cock jolted and throbbed, and she felt every hot jet of semen spurt against her cervix as he violently came. The demon's fangs clamped down on her shoulder as he emptied himself, growling, his talons puncturing her carelessly. Lillith's cry of shock was drowned out by his guttural sounds and her blood flowed freely from the deep bite. The swept it away with his tongue hungrily with a lustful purr, satisfying his blood-thirst for the time being. He was still for a few moments, recovering while he caught his breath and pulled her still gasping and trembling form off of his organ. Demiurge left her limply on the table as he tucked himself away and rearranged his suit.

Lillith watched hazily as the Arch Devil walked over to the prisoner's corpse and pulled the instrument out of his windpipe. Her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach with a cold chill as he moved towards her with it in his hand, blood still on the blade and glinting crimson in the craft room's dim light.

"I am a monster. But I will never apologize for what I am, or what I want. And neither should you_._" He said, and to her relief, he laid the bloody scalpel back on the table next to her drained and tired body.

Lillith was still catching her breath, her body still numb from near suffocation and shock gradually taking hold of her.

"It is good to know that we may have something in common after all." He ended with a sharp grin and patted her head like a pet, and sauntered out of the room, leaving her sprawled weakly on the table and a dead man still bleeding mere feet from her, and no intact clothes to cover herself with.

---