In the court of the Succubus Khagan (PlatemailBikini & Grimoire)

[PlatemailBikini]

Xenora Blackstone, Khagan of the Succubus Clans, undisputed ruler of Hell and conqueror of untold souls, is currently reclined against the back of her massive "throne", a grand bed of the finest silk, covered in sheets and pillows, with a set of sheer curtains granting a purposefully transparent cover form the eyes of her court. A naked succubus leans against either of her sides, her strong arms gently caressing their sides as they in turn tend to her, one pressing kisses to her neck, while the other sucks at one of her teats, eyes closed in delight at the mere allowance of tasting her skin. Both of them keep a hand on their Khagan's massive, ridged demon cock, each one of them unable to wrap their fingers around its girth alone.

At her feet an elf-slave is seated, bent over on all fours, desperately lapping at her mistress' meaty thigh, spurred on by the hope of tasting the run-off cum should the succubi bring her over the edge. Once she was a proud noble, and had scoffed at the rumors of a demonic horde ascending from Hell. Now she serves blindly, her position at the foot of the throne serving to show the whole room the mark of clan Blackstone tattooed onto her right buttock, the six spires of Blackstone Keep forever claiming her for the khagan. She still keeps her beauty, her golden hair pulled pack in a high ponytail, her lean body unmarred and unblemished. Only her mark, and her utterly ruined holes served to show what she was now: no longer Lady Allania Fairgarden, third to the throne of Vaekar; but Whoremeat, favored fucktoy of Khagan Xemnora. In her broken mind, this was a far greater honor.

Even so she knew she could not tarry or falter. Both of her older sisters had already been tried and discarded by the succubus, and it was only a matter of whim and amusement if she too was to be cast aside. So she kept on worshiping the woman who had had her entire family killed, either in combat, on the chopping block, or right here on this throne; unheeding of the conversation her new goddess was having...

"Ah, Anasin. I hope you are here to present me with your tribute?"

 

[Grimoire]

Anasin strode with a confidence deserved. One writ in flowing silks the color of a twilit sky, trailed by the lesser demonic sages that acted as Anasin's own vassals in the carrying out of the Khagan's whims and wishes. She was slight, as far as Xenora's lieutenants went. Scarcely six feet -- though the heels made up for it somewhat -- with a twinkle to dark eyes and a smile spread across her plump lips. The silks flowed around her body, revealing the occasional tantalizing glimpse of her own heavy shaft between thick thighs.

She came to a stop some fifteen feet before Xenora and Whoremeat, drawing an arm across her own heavy chest before she bent the knee to her Lady. A cruel smile twisted her lips at the sight of the slave; some beautiful woman whose name, status, and role in life no longer mattered. That was the thrill of this for Anasin, the ultimate reward.

It wasn't the breaking of the body; that was for mere fools or bulls. No... the breaking of the soul and the dignity. That was most delicious of all.

"Of course, my Khagan. I've brought you a most delectable treat. High priestess Elena Vontis, please take the stage."

A priestess in garb that suggested her position as a priestess as much as it mocked it, with a nun's cowl and white robing that had been... modified throughout entered the room the way that Anasin had come, taking several long strides. She was... soft. Soft in a way that not every tribute had been. Large breasts jiggled faintly with every step, suggestive of the sway of her body as she came to stop. Her hair was spun gold, her eyes a downcast blue behind a simple strand of shadowed magic, a blindfold that swirled like darkness at dusk. Her hands were clasped in front of her wide hips, and her head was downcast.

"A high priestess of the Enclave of Purity. A wandering holy woman, her body pressed in faith of her false god. She's come to receive a baptism in her new faith, my lady," Anasin purred as Elena moved to kneel on the floor right beside Anasin, the motion demure and ladylike.

"My lady," the priestess whispered after a moment, pressing her hands against the floor and leaning forward until her forehead hit the ground and the silks over her hips and ass shifted so, revealing herself to the court of the lady in a way she scarcely seemed to notice. Her breasts pressed against the floor.

"I've come to serve."

 

[PlatemailBikini]

Xenora sized up the offering, her face an inscrutable mask. The tension grew, the court wondering whether she'd accept the offering. The priestess was beautiful indeed, and the idea of subduing and owning a priestess of the Enclave of Purity was a delectable thought to any of their kind. But the Khagan could be mysterious, unknowable and eccentric.

Only Whoremeat did not carefully watch her, even her attendants having ceased their luxurious assault on her body. After many moments, the Khagan raised a hand, motioning for the priestess to approach. She casually prodded Whoremeat with her foot, the slave whining pitifully as she was directed away from her source of purpose. Her attendants scattered, retreating for her body, although settling in nearby should they be called on again. They were never far from the mistress, taking care to always have her in their line of sight, lest they miss any subtle expression or movement that meant they should tend to her. Even so they settled in on the large throne, eager to merely watch. There were few things they adored more than watching Xenora break in a new slave.

"High priestess Elena Vontis..." Her voice rolled over the words, as if trying out the name, the way it felt on her tongue. "I shall let you serve me. For now." She indicated to her cock, standing at its full, body-and-mind-breaking attention. Her ridged rod was the length of a succubus' thigh, and as their race were among the largest... Few had fully taken the Khagan for any length of time before breaking. In one way or the other.

"Behold your new god. Kneel before me and worship."

 

[Grimoire]

The silence that reigned over the room was palpable and tense -- Anasin had long been a skilled breaker of slaves, for all that her style often broke with that of her Khagan or even the Right Hand, the detestable Jazzara --

But the Khagan's favor was won this day, at least at the outset, and it caused the brittle smile spread across Anasin's lush lips to take on a warmer and more confident quality. Whoremeat had been an excellent slave, and it certainly bade well that Xenora would dismiss her for at least the long moments to entertain herself with the priestess. After all, it was a fine thing to bring low the high and holy, to make them realize their place in this world: under the heel or cock of Blackstone succubi.

"Thank you, your grace," Elena said as if coached in the ways of the succubus court. She kept her head low as on hands and knees -- her hips swaying wide to either side, heavy breasts swinging and jiggling under her body -- she approached the Khagan. She looked up at the same moment that the magic was dispelled, letting her take full view of her new mistress with wide blue eyes. They sparkled and shone, an enraptured expression carrying itself across her face, as if the holy woman had been entreated to see their god for the first time. There was awe and there was fear -- though whether it was the fear of god that any good priestess carried in their heart, or the fear that roiled the stomach in anticipation of a girth so great, it was hard to tell.

Her hands rose to the base of Xenora's cock, scarce able to take the behemoth even with both hands. Her hands were so very soft, as if they'd not known a day of toil in their life but for the weight of a holy tome's pages, and it was in this way that she stroked at the base of that heavy cock, leaning her heard forward and craning her neck so that her tongue could find heavy balls. Between laps of a soft pink tongue, she could be heard whispering.

"I pledge my body and soul, my khagan. I renounce the holy writ of Purity," she breathed, taking in the succubus' musk as she worshiped here at the altar of Blackstone.

 

[PlatemailBikini]

Xenora watched with thinly veiled interest as the Priestess approached, crawling on all fours like an animal. She could hear the tittering of her attendants as they marveled at the sight of a priestess so demurely throwing way her dignity and purity. They had always loved a good show, especially one of denigration or suffering. She could only imagine what foul deeds had been done to ensure her absolute obedience. And so genuine too. She saw true awe in those eyes as the woman looked up at her. As much as she loved to watch her slaves suffer in awareness of what had been done to them, she had to admit Anasin never failed to impress with her abilities. Pious slaves were not only an art to make, nor just good fun, they were also useful. They could be used on others, forming pleasure cults and preparing cities for their arrival.

As she felt Elena's smooth hands start to caress her already slick cock, she let out a purr from deep in her throat. She was remarkably soft, and her touch feather-light. Then she felt her tongue lap at her ballsack, felt more than heard her murmur into it. She was ever the priestess it seemed, skilled and heavenly when it came to worship. The Khagan delighted in hearing her demure voice swear fealty to her. Swear devotion to her.

Suddenly she raised her hand, and the mood shifted in an instant. The court froze, watching intently, holding their breaths. Everyone was confused, and struggling not to show it. Was she displeased? Had someone committed a gaffe? Whatever the issue everyone was willing to pretend they were expecting her reaction. Then she turned her head to one of her concubines, and waved her raised hand to the side. "Someone fuck her before she snaps." She was indicating to Whoremeat, who was kneeling to the side of the throne, staring at the Priestess with open hostility. She knew if the usurper was well received, it could spell her doom. The concubine she had motioned to smiled, pulling Whoremeat tightly to herself and began fingering her loose pussy. The elf's soft whimpers added to the soft shlick noise of the priestess' ministrations.

With that distraction dealt with, Xenora could return her attention to her latest pet. She leaned back once more, closing her eyes and simply letting her do her work.

Minutes passed, and it became clear the Priestess' current efforts would not bring her new goddess to orgasm for a good long while. As much as the Khagan loved to luxuriate in a day-long session of lazy eroticism, she had other business to attend to today. So she sat back up straight, and ran her fingers through Elena's hair. Like the rest of her, it was soft. Still luscious and clean despite what must have been days in intense conditioning. Anasin was a stickler for the details. It was one of the reasons she had been picked for this assignment. She addressed the slave: "You are free to pleasure me in whatever way you see fit. I am sure that wonderfully whorish body of your has more to offer, no matter how wonderful your hands."