Sitting on an intricate throne adorning a dais at the apex of her ethereal house’s foggy dungeon, a voluptuous entity cast an aura of pure sex throughout the premises.

Her eyes cold and blue, her touch like poison. She inspired a selfish need in those whom she pulled into her influence, a need that only her touch could satiate.

She left her mark wherever she went, passersby driven mad with curiosity from a mere glimpse of her figure. No one knew her name; no one knew what she was. Those lucky enough to feel her were never the same again.

Her voice was dripping with lusty tonality as she belted out, “I require entertainment!” Her voice ricocheted throughout the house, causing its liquid walls to ripple in response.

A nameless boy toy could soon be seen limping down a hallway, drawing nearer towards his mistress. His posture was slumped, for he rarely slept. His once vibrant white wings were now bandaged and stained crimson.

Feathers fell as he walked. His body was tattered, scarred in too many places to count, his wounds, some still fresh, oozed a thick substance as bits crumbled off from the hardened crusts of his scabs.

Fright. An emotion he had come to know quite well. His voice stuttered as he arrived at her feet, kneeling before her.

“Yes mistress.”

“This is entertainment? You muck up my beautiful house and expect me to be pleased? Go clean your mess!”

With the speed of a goddess her had came crashing down on his face. Her palm clashed into his scars and still-fresh wounds. A furious bolt of pain wracked through his body. His back arched in agony before belting a harmonic screech that would make any other being but her double over in agony.

Her tongue slowly unraveled to lick up the scabby crusts and fresh blood from her hand. Her toy cleaned his mess and reapplied his bandages. After he had finished cleaning she walked over to him and picked him up by the leash she had attached to his neck.

“Now for my entertainment.” she whispered into his ear as she walked through one of the ethereal walls, into to a room he knew all too well.

The room was pitch darkness, lit only by a tiny flame.

She walked over towards a wall covered with sharp implements. Her mood dictated which of her extensive collection would be put to use on any given day.

She decided on a small carving knife, walking over to her toy after she grabbed it.

“Mmmm.” she moaned as her legs started to glisten in the glow of the tiny flame’s light. Wet. Her cunt was slick at the mere thought of cutting into the flesh of her favorite toy. She could orgasm at any moment while playing with his skin.

She ripped his tattered, old clothes off. The sound of tearing fabric faded to nothingness as she leant in to lick his chest.

Her tongue was drenched in eros, a concentrated aphrodisiac produced by glands in her split tongue.

He could no longer resist the pleasure and began to convulse with raw pleasure as her forked tongue penetrated his skin.

As the mistress’s breathing grew heavy and labored, her right hand was lost between her legs. She pressed the blade up against his chest slowly, dragging it downwards, drenching the lower half of his body in his own blood, a puddle of thick azure blood forming at their feet.

She too met her limit as her fingers thrust hungrily into her swollen cunt. The knife fell from her grip as she collapsed into the puddle of his blood and her lust, convulsing in the same violent ecstasy she had imbued onto her toy.

They both laid there, drenched in blood and cum, until she felt the need to rise once more.

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