Chains of Judgement - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Unfortunate," sighed Lucille who waited for judgement, her face hidden beneath her witch's hat.

Vylania shook her head dismissively. "Entertain the patrons of this fine establishment. I'll not dirty myself with your ghoulish flesh."

"Such a prude," Jezebeth taunted. "If you do not wish to sample such forbidden delights then why did you come here?" Vylania didn't even acknowledge the succubus as if Jezebeth were beneath her notice. Instead she watched Lucille slowly rise out of her seat.

Lucille bent over the gaming table as her hands grasped the edges of her angel feathered robe. Hoisting it up like a common whore, the dark witch presented herself to the assembled onlookers without a hint of shame. Her skin was pallid and lacked any kind of colour but despite this, her pale ass was flawlessly smooth like well sculptured porcelain. Her underwear was black as the dead of night and possessed a web-like texture as it covered precious little of her bare buttocks.

Incredulous gasps filled the Blackened Hand. Like forbidden fruit, the chance to fuck such a diabolical witch without any obvious repercussions couldn't be ignored and yet no one seemed to want the proffered treasure. Several members of the crowd boasted and jeered but the courage to plunge into the potentially damming eluded them.

"Hesitant?" Lucille mockingly chuckled. "Is this throng of unwashed devoid of even a modicum of courage? Amusing, if it weren't so - pathetic! Hilarious! Castrate yourselves you spineless housewives!"

Bad tempered shouting soon followed as wounded prides exploded into verbal outrage. Lucille the Dark laughed in their faces, her voice an echoing whisper of mischievous energy. The crowd jostled against each other like a bad tempered tide of living souls as they remembered cheating partners or betrayed feelings.

Jezebeth could feel the overpowering heartache as the bewitching spell infected the Blackened hand. As a succubus the feelings of total humiliation were indescribably pleasant.

"I'll shut up that stupid mouth of yours!" bellowed a hulking monstrosity of rippling reptilian muscle. The sheer size of the Dragonkin as he battered his way to the gaming table was enough to shock the Blackened Hand to silence more effectively than a large scale destruction spell. Smashed heads greeted those stubborn enough to not give the creature a wide enough berth.

In one mighty hand strong enough to snap a humans neck he rubbed his massive, scaly cock that leaked a sticky, translucent fluid all over the floor. His long lizard tongue flickered as his beady yellow eyes hungrily devoured the much smaller witch. Lucille beckoned him forwards, heedless of the potential damage such a large organ would have on her defenceless nether regions.

"Come, mighty invader," she invited.

"I'm going to ruin you, little witch," he spat in a guttural tone as he lined up his impressive length.

"Many have tried, many have-" Lucille began until the Dragonkin thrust into her with all the considerable strength that his muscle-bound, sinewy frame would allow. The dark witch, famed and feared in equal measure was reduced to a simple cock-sleeve. Glowing puffs of magical mist escaped her mouth as her pussy was viciously plundered. Curiously, her expression showed one of supreme contentment at her merciless spearing.

Lucille's hands fought for purchase as the table rocked with every thrust.

Jezebeth was transfixed by this obscene spectacle. The thought of such a large, throbbing penis stuffing this very normal sized witch filled her head with a hazy, electrifying mist. Unable to resist any longer the succubus licked her glistening lips and reached underneath the table.

Shouts of encouragement urged the mighty lizard-folk on as his crouch slammed against Lucille the Dark's pale flesh.

Lucille's insides were an amalgam of sexual organs designed to twist pleasure and pain into higher feelings not reachable by natural designs. The Dragonkin slowed as countless tendrils, suckers and muscles constricted around his pulsing member, milking him like a thousand wet tongues. He hesitated, the wet landscape around his sensitive member slivering like living vines.

"Slowing?" Lucille slurred. "Unacceptable!"

Lucille began to fuck him back with reckless abandon. Her stomach distorted, the contours of the invading cock clearly visible beneath the shimmering angel feathers. The Dragonkin roared, his spittle bathing the back of Lucille's archangel gown. He tried to pull back but found that he was completely ensnared by the squirming honey pot. Something prickled against his scaly skin as potent chemicals, hormones and enhancers flooded his system.

"What's...the..matter?" Lucille panted.

She found great amusement in tormenting the hunter turned prey and wouldn't let him escape her womanly charms. Rivers of bubbling white froth poured from the great lizard's mouth. His primal urges were magnified, the need to mate almost painful in it's intensity. Hard scaly skin smacked against pale buttocks as his nerves blazed hotly with flaming sensation. His hard, bulbous cock violated Lucille in a maddening rhythm, the shaft struggling to force itself against her unnatural suction.

Jezebeth's nipples hardened as her skilful hands worked furiously on her dripping cunt. Her seductive moans carried with them the infernal power of the succubi and several onlookers were overcome, attacking those nearest to them. Derek was impressed as the Blackened Hand degenerated into sheer lunacy. In his experience you usually had to pay a heavy weight in coin for such degeneracy.

The once fearsome Dragonkin was delirious with pleasure as his mind melted inside his dense, primitive skull. Purple energies crackled around his imposing bulk as his life-force was mercilessly siphoned away. All his remaining vitality was poured into the effort of copulation. Lucille's ghostly face beamed with satisfaction as copious amounts of sticky sperm flooded her womb almost until breaking point.

Vylania ordered her guards to stand clear as the monstrous Dragonkin plopped out of Lucille, it's dead weight falling into the crowd like a sack of bricks. Despite the fact that much of it's bulk had been leached away, the mass of desecrated flesh still crushed many unwary revellers into bloody pancakes. Rivers of cum oozed out of Lucille's reddened flower as she calmly retook her seat with only the slightest inkling of a limp.

"Uunngh," she moaned in the thralls of ecstasy. "Such vitality!"

"Th-That-" Jezebeth began, panting wistfully. She licked her fingers clean, the delicious demonic nectar glazing her inviting lips with a glistening sheen.

"That was such a captivating performance, Lucille. I didn't know that you were so dirty, you rotten seductress."

Lucille seemed refreshed, her magical aura more pronounced, her features more defined. Her striking eyes now glowed with scintillating vitality. "Urges cannot be ignored. A fool rots his mind with ignored needs."

"I agree," said Derek. "Everyone has their vices. Personally I have more refined, more expensive tastes than laying with common monsters but to each their own, I say."

"Such a limited outlook on life, my dashing hero," said Jezebeth.

"Don't get me wrong, succubus. Many of my conquests have been more than merely mortal. One was even of angelic royalty." He smiled fondly at that heavenly memory. "That certainly caused quite the commotion at the-"

"Silence," Vylania snapped while tapping the gaming table impatiently. "Only a fool cannot control their baser urges. Complete mastery of one's own self is an unbreakable shield but I wouldn't expect any of you miscreants to understand that."

"Joyless Vylania," Lucille said. "Fearless yet fearful."

Vylania bristled at this insolence but inexplicably held her tongue. That saying was familiar, one that Eleanor occasionally used during their private time together.

Are you responsible, fowl witch?

The High Justice looked around for the master of the now chaotic Blackened Hand. Hidden among the bedlam, behind screaming barmaids and struggling guards sat the pudgy faced man as he huddled behind his personal protectors. A glass shattered against the far wall, a thousand different colours reflecting off the many vivid shades and lights like a kaleidoscope. He screeched pathetically and desperately prayed for deliverance from some higher power. Despite the mass hysteria that had claimed many lives already, no one so much as approached the gaming table. Even a madman had enough sense to avoid almost certain death or worse.

Vylania had tolerated enough nonsense. She stood up and held aloft her shining rod of justice. "Silence!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, her words more threatening than a poisoned dagger to the throat. The rampant raping, violence and looting that had infected the Blackened Hand like a sickness stopped immediately, the bewitching lust evaporating like it had never existed. Many sets of eyes stared at her, utterly stupefied, the memory of the last few moments formless like mist.

"The next person or otherwise to interrupt this game risks my personal displeasure and the full justice of the Demonmore courthouse!"

Hardened people, the kind that would readily stab you in the back for just a few pieces of silver flinched visibly as if physically slapped.

Vylania nodded in satisfaction. "Good, lets carry on with the proceedings, shall we?"

Continued in Chapter 4

---