Sins of the Succubus

18. Dremlor

18

DREMLOR

I stand amidst the chaos, the flames licking at the night sky as they consume the bar, turning it into a blazing pyre for the damned. Neela, her eyes aglow with the fire of her newfound power, turns to me, her expression one of determination and resolve.

"This place... it's been a prison for me, for so long," she says, her voice carrying over the roar of the flames. "But it's also been a prison for others. We can't just leave them here to suffer."

I nod, understanding her need to purge this place of its taint. "You're right," I tell her, my gaze sweeping over the remaining employees huddled together, their faces etched with a mixture of fear and hope.

Together, we approach the group of workers, their wide eyes taking us in—Neela, the newly minted succubus, and me, the demon who has claimed her. The air is thick with smoke and the stench of burning flesh, but beneath it all, there's a sense of release, of freedom being reclaimed.

Neela steps forward, her presence commanding attention. "Tell me about your lives," she commands, her voice resonating with authority. "What has this place done to you?"

One by one, they share their stories—tales of abuse, exploitation, and despair. Each account mirrors Neela's own, a testament to the cruelty that has been allowed to fester within these walls.

A young woman, her face streaked with soot and tears, speaks up. "I was sold to the bar by my own family," she confesses, her voice barely above a whisper. "They said it was for the greater good, that it would bring prosperity to our household. But all I've known here is pain and humiliation."

Neela reaches out, her hand gentle on the young woman's shoulder. "And what of you?" she asks, turning to an older man, his body stooped from years of hard labor.

"I've been a slave to this place for longer than I care to remember," he says, his voice hoarse. "I've watched generations come and go, each one suffering under the weight of the same chains that bind us all."

As the stories unfold, I can feel a growing sense of outrage. This bar, this cesspool of depravity, has been a blight upon the lives of these people, a cancer that has eaten away at their souls. But no more.

I listen intently as the employees recount their tales of woe, each one a testament to the suffering that has been allowed to fester within these walls. My gaze lingers on Neela, her expression a mask of empathy and determination. She's a beacon of hope in this darkened hell, and I can't help but feel a surge of pride for the demoness she's become.

A young woman, her face a portrait of anguish, steps forward. "My mother," she begins, her voice trembling, "she's been forced to... to service our landlord. If she doesn't... he threatens to foreclose on our home."

Neela's eyes narrow, a dangerous glint igniting within their depths. "And where is this landlord?" she asks, her tone icy.

The young woman hesitates, glancing at her feet. "He... he's at our home now. We live in the outskirts."

Neela turns to me, her gaze imploring. We share a nod, an unspoken agreement, and she insists the young woman show us to her home.

We arrive at the outskirts of the Shadow Woods, the young woman leading us to a modest dwelling that looks as if it's seen better days. The air is thick with tension as we approach, the sound of coarse laughter carrying from within the house.

Neela doesn't hesitate. She kicks the door open, the flimsy lock giving way with a satisfying crunch. Inside, we find the landlord, a bloated dark elf, his pants around his ankles, a cruel smile twisting his lips as he leers at the woman on her knees before him.

The young woman's mother looks up, her eyes wide with terror and shame. The landlord whirls around, his expression turning from lust to fear as he takes in the sight of Neela and me.

"What the—?" he stammers, scrambling to pull up his pants.

Neela steps forward, her wings unfurling behind her. "Your reign of terror ends now," she says, her voice echoing with the weight of her newfound power.

The landlord's eyes dart to the door, but I'm already there, my form blocking his only means of escape. "I don't think so," I growl, my voice a low rumble that makes the windows rattle.

Neela advances on the landlord, her eyes burning with righteous fury. "You've preyed on the vulnerable for the last time."

With a swift movement, she plunges her hand into his chest, her fingers wrapping around his heart. The landlord's eyes bulge, a gurgled scream escaping his lips as Neela squeezes, her grip unyielding.

As the life drains from his eyes, Neela turns to his victim, her voice softening. "You're free now," she says, releasing the now lifeless body to the floor.

The woman looks up at Neela, tears streaming down her face as she mouths a silent 'thank you.' Neela nods, a small smile playing on her lips as she takes a step back, allowing the woman to embrace her daughter.

I watch the scene unfold, a sense of satisfaction washing over me. This is what true power looks like—the ability to protect the weak and punish the wicked. And as I look at Neela, I know that we're just getting started.

The air is thick with the musk of our recent exertions, the scent mingling with the smoldering remnants of the bed's ruined linens. Neela, her succubus nature now fully unleashed, lies sated yet restless atop the disheveled sheets, her eyes reflecting the flicker of the room's lone torch.

"Something's amiss," she murmurs, her voice a sultry whisper that stirs the ashes of my desire. "I can feel it, Dremlor. The hunger... it's not yet quenched."

I understand all too well. The succubus within her craves more than mere physical release—it demands the vitality of others, their life force a potent elixir that fuels her newfound powers. I watch as she rises, her movements graceful and purposeful, a predator on the prowl.

The young woman we rescued from this vile place sits on the edge of the room, her mother in her arms, both of them overwhelmed by the night's events. Neela approaches them, her presence commanding yet tender.

"You," she says, extending her hand to the young woman. "Join us in the bedchambers."

The woman looks up, her eyes meeting Neela's. There's a moment of hesitation before she nods, a silent agreement passing between them. Her mother, clearly terrified of the two demons in her home, expresses her gratitude once more before excusing herself for a breath of fresh air.

I watch, my member throbbing with anticipation, as Neela guides the young woman to the bed. The torchlight dances across their skin, casting shadows that entwine and intertwine like lovers in the throes of passion. Neela's hands roam freely over the young woman's body, her touch both tender and possessive.

"Let me show you what it means to be free," Neela whispers, her fingers tracing the contours of the young woman's curves. The young woman's breath hitches as Neela's hand slips between her thighs, her body instinctively opening to the promise of release.

I move behind Neela, my hands gripping her hips as I align myself with her entrance. She pushes back against me, a silent invitation that I am all too eager to accept. With a single, fluid motion, I bury myself inside her, relishing the tight warmth of her body as she gasps in delight.

Neela's moans mingle with the young woman's as I set a rhythm that is both demanding and deliberate. Each thrust drives Neela forward, her fingers working with increasing fervor as she brings the young woman closer and closer to the brink.

The young woman's cries of pleasure fill the room, her body writhing beneath Neela's skillful ministrations. "Come for us," Neela commands, her voice laced with the raw power of her demonic nature. The young woman's back arches, her body convulsing as waves of ecstasy wash over her.

As the young woman's climax subsides, Neela turns to me, her eyes ablaze with desire. "Now, Dremlor," she says, her voice thick with need. "Cover us with your seed."

I increase my pace, my own release imminent. With a final, powerful thrust, I let out a guttural roar, and shove Neela into the mattress to let my come spray over their breasts.

We collapse onto the bed, our bodies entwined in a sweaty, satisfied tangle. The young woman, sated and serene, watches us with a mixture of awe and gratitude. Neela smiles at her, a genuine expression of warmth and affection.

"Thank you," she murmurs.

Neela smiles, her body moulded against mine like she was made to fit against me. "What is your name, sweetheart?"

"Quinn," she responds with a gentle smile. "I… I'm going to start a new life. On my own."

"I think that's a wonderful idea, Quinn," Neela encourages, and when her gaze meets mine I know that she plans on doing the same thing but with me. "You're free now."

As the young woman closes her eyes, a contented smile gracing her lips, I pull Neela close, planting a possessive kiss on her forehead. This moment, this perfect union of pleasure and power, is a testament to the bond that we share—a bond that has been forged in the fires of shared struggle and mutual desire.

Together, we have burned down the old world, clearing the way for a new era—an era where the darkness holds no fear, where the chains of oppression are shattered, and where the passion that ignites between a demon and his succubus can set the world ablaze.