December 1st
December is one terrible month to work retail.
The holidays are the absolute worst. Every single customer is just so pushy, each and every one of them certain that their needs are the absolute most important thing in the whole world. Just because their son or daughter, their boss or friend, their husband or wife needed the perfect present, and they hadn’t prepared months ago, that made it suddenly the retail outlet’s problem. It was enough to make an employee sick to see the sheer outrageous level of expectation that it was their problem. Yes, retail during the Christmas rush was the absolute worst. All retail.
So why would the sex slave industry be any different?
John sighed as he walked in the door of the training mansion, stomping snow off his boots and shrugging out of his coat. A dryad woman shyly reached for it, the naked woman’s skin glistening in the heated parlor as she found a notch to hang it up in. “Greetings, master,” she said, a little bit of a fevered desperation in her voice as her eyes flicked towards the door.
The master of the manor couldn’t help but smile. “Try to run anytime girl,” he said with a chuckle. “Would love to see how far you get out there.” The coat rack, the desk, the doors she was sitting in front of… those things were all that was left of her tree. He’d had her in the room when he’d had a carpenter make the furniture. She wasn’t going to be leaving without it, and he would absolutely love to see the tiny waif of a thing, no more than five foot nothing, trying to lug a huge desk behind her as she ran across the lawn.
His good mood evaporated, however, when he turned his attention to the foyer and saw the absolute bedlam. Slaves and slave trainers were moving through the hall, escorted on their paths to new training and torments. Various VIP customers were on tours, being escorted by staff that really needed to be training and couldn’t because they needed to hold the hands of rich babies…
It really was enough to make a man sick.
“Where is that demon slut?” John asked one of the trainers as he walked by, tugging along a blonde college-age girl by her hair. The girl looked at him with desperate, begging eyes, looking for mercy… so she must not know who he was yet. Otherwise the last thing she would want to do was get his attention.
“Still in her cell,” the trainer said without bothering to look over. He had a harried, exhausted look, and December was just starting. It was going to be a long, long month.
“No one got her out?” John asked in disbelief. “She didn’t order anyone to when she saw how busy it was?”
The trainer shrugged, still walking. “She said you had locked her in, that she thought you’d be displeased if she set herself free.”
“Doesn’t the bitch know what time of the year it is?” John growled, narrowing his eyes. “Demon whore is going to be lucky if I don’t flay her this time.” This wasn’t the poor man’s problem, however… he let the trainer go, stalking off towards the main atrium and where he would find the most useful slave in this mansion.
The main atrium was in the basement of the manor… all the way down. A six-story-tall collection of cages, walkways, ramps, and containers, it was grand enough but it wasn’t the type of place that the guests to the mansion usually went… it was where the work was done. It was also even more of a chaotic parade than the upper floors were, and the wait for one of the elevators was out of control. Instead, John walked downstairs after stairs, working his way to the bottom floor where, in the very center of the atrium, there was the single most open slave cell in the mansion.
A beautiful woman wood, almost unmoving, in the center of the room, her grey wings folded against her back tightly enough that at a glance they were almost invisible, vanishing into her violet hair. Red letters in a script that even he couldn’t speak glowed softly up and down her side and around her neck, pulsing quietly with each beat of the demon’s heart, and curling ram’s horns poked out from beneath her hair. The demon’s prison was only a single bar of steel, a dildo at the top wedged deeply enough into her wet pussy that she wouldn’t be able to lift herself off it until she flew… and with her wings bound behind her back there was little chance of that.
Despite her imprisonment, the succubus was engaged… her eyes taking in every piece of merchandise in the making as it went, and making recommendations to nearly every slave trainer who passed nearby as for what should be done to them. The demon was surprisingly gentle for one of her kind, but her mind was still filled with a veritable encyclopedia of sex acts and torments, and it was more than sweat that dripped down her thighs and coated the single bar holding her captive.
Then she saw John.
For a moment, the demoness’s eyes widened, and a smile crossed her lips. Then her brain processed that he looked angry and the crimson runes emblazoned across her neck started glaring like a spotlight. She screamed, shuddering on the bar as he kept striding up to her, taking his time to let the anger sink in. The succubus was to spend every moment of the rest of her life serving him, anticipating his needs… and if he were ever disappointed with her, if he were ever to be angry with the choices she made, her bindings made her pay for it. The demon slut had gotten quite good at making him happy over the years… but this time, she had fucked up, and the moment she caught sight of him she knew it.
Her screaming had stopped by the time John reached her, but she was still trembling like a cornered animal, the runes on her neck still glowing as he leaned down, one finger on her chin as he forced her to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry master…” she whispered. She probably didn’t even know what she was apologizing for, but she meant it… he could feel that through the tether that connected his soul to hers, the one they’d shared for a decade now. She was still in agony but doing her best to hide it, to stay strong… just the way he liked.
“It is almost Christmas,” John said softly, staring into her eyes while he rolled one of her nipples between his fingers. “We have a thousand orders to fill, hundreds of bitches to train, we’re underwater and barely stopping from sinking further…” Her owner glared a little, and she winced as the runes flared again. “And my most valuable trainer is sitting on her cunt and drooling on a stick while everyone else works themselves to the bone.”
Her muscles shook and flexed as her body was wracked with the failure to please him. It was honestly difficult to hold back from fucking her right this second… impaled and immobile, her ass would make the most perfect clenching sheath for his cock. She could ride him for hours like that, trying to make him happy enough that the pain would stop and he would be pleased with her again. Distracting, tempting little slut… they didn’t have time for that right now, but it didn’t stop him from wishing. With a sigh, John reached down and undid the locking mechanism holding the pole up, pulling it out of her soaked pussy with an audible slurping noise. A moment later, he spent the tiny amount of thought and willpower necessary to relax the binding and the tension eased out of his punished succubus pet as her runes faded back to a sullen smolder. “It’s time for us to get to work,” he said firmly. “Give me a report on the special projects.”
“Th-thank y-you master,” she said, her voice breaking halfway through the words as she shuddered one last time. “Th-there are several in progress, but most importantly the vigilante was captured last night.”
John gave a predatory smile. “Perfect. A little short notice, but what’s life without a challenge or two?” It was time to consider how to break that damn neko… and get what he really wanted from her.
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