by Randi Darren
“Hello,” Sam said, spotting the woman he was here to meet.
She was sitting in a chair next to a coffee table. Dressed in street clothes, she looked like some type of model.
There was a reason they called her an amazon, after all. Even sitting down, she was obviously very tall.
Additionally, she really was an extremely beautiful specimen of Imp. She had dark green eyes and bright blond hair, and her figure was quite full and lovely.
She was only a tiny fraction below Irma, in his personal opinion. But then again, he was biased. There was the distinct possibility that the Amazon was better looking than Irma.
“You’re him,” said the woman, her eyes widening. “You’re… the man in the picture. You’re really him.”
“Course, I am,” Sam said with a smile. He reached behind himself and closed the door. “And yes, I really was involved with Jenaphila. She was my personal Imp. My first Imp.
“Do you know that term?”
“Yes,” said the amazon, nodding her head fractionally. “It’s whoever is Jena’s second-in-command.”
“That’s what she was to me. Even to this day, technically, she wears my brand. Even your brand, is mine,” Sam said, walking over to her. “In fact—”
Pointing two fingers at the woman, Sam turned on her brand, then flipped her sexual sensitivity to maximum and her current stimulation to full, and left it engaged.
When your brand was on a person, you owned them completely.
As long as you were close enough and they didn’t have more power then you.
She moaned as her knees slammed together, and she hunched into herself. The Imp began to quiver right there in her chair.
“Your brand… is my old brand,” Sam said, sitting down across from the Imp. Watching her riding out an instant and massive orgasm, Sam waited for a full minute before he casually turned her body back to normality. “And you’re mine. Even if Jena branded you, it’s… my brand.”
“Oh gods,” whimpered the woman in a soft quavering voice. She cupped both her hands over her privates, covering them. “It won’t stop. Please. Stop.”
“I already turned it off. Give it a minute, it’ll run out,” Sam said with a negligent flick of his hand. Then he stuffed a small tendril of Essence into her. She seemed to be running low for some reason.
He was curious as to why that was so.
Maybe that’s my way in, if I wanted to bring her down?
“Ah!” squeaked the woman, her hands pressing hard between her legs. “You have Essence? Can I have some more?”
“I mean… I generate Essence. So, of course, you can have some more,” Sam said, quickly seeing a way to play this to his favor. “But first… your name. Your job title. What’s going on since I robbed the place? Did Jena do anything? Why don’t you have any Essence?”
“I’m… my name is Inese. I’m the branch head for the state,” murmured Inese. She looked over-stimulated, Essence hungry, and tired. “And nothing’s going on. Word from up top has been to just keep on as if nothing happened.
“I heard they put out a few traps, but nothing ever came of them so far. Mistress Jena hasn’t said or communicated anything either. She’s just… gone. There’s been nothing from her for a while.”
“Huh,” Sam said, leaning to one side. “When I robbed the place I glamored you. You told me people vanish. They still vanishing but she doesn’t communicate with anyone?”
“Yes, they still vanish. Often. But no one ever hears directly from Mistress Jena,” Inese said, then moaned, twisting in the seat, her skin breaking out in a faint sheen of sweat. “Now… please… please, can I have some more Essence? Please? I told you everything.”
“Of course, but you have one last thing to tell me,” Sam said. “Where do you get your Essence right now?”
“It’s sent out with our paychecks. A small stone. It’s enough to keep the hunger at bay for a week, but that’s it. Please? Now? Please may I have some? Master? Please?” begged Inese.
“Master? I’m not your master,” Sam said with a chuckle. He began to slowly put together enough Essence to sustain her for a month.
“You have my brand, you control my body, I’ve tasted your Essence,” Inese moaned, her fingers digging into herself. “You’re the Master. Please, Master, give me some Essence?”
Damn. That’s how Jena controls everything.
She’s strung them all out on Essence, removed all their resources and abilities on how to get it, and turned them into addicts.
That’s how she’s done it.
“I’ll give you all the Essence you want, Inese,” Sam murmured with a smile, leaning toward her. Reaching out, he began to slowly fill her with Essence. He wasn’t going to rush it. He wanted to make her think it was a never-ending stream. Sam wasn’t going to keep her strung out, but he wanted her to think he had more than she’d ever need. “Come on over here, so I can change your brand a bit. Then you can start bringing people who want out back to me. We’ll start pulling Jena apart, Imp by Imp.”
“Yes, Master. Change my brand, keep feeding me, please,” Inese groaned, coming over to him in a stumbling walk. Her mind was lost in an Essence craved haze.
Poor thing. She’ll probably be fine in a few days with a regular Essence feed.
I bet she tastes amazing.
Collapsing headfirst into his lap, Inese pushed her face down between his legs and practically rubbed herself against his privates.
“Feed me, Master, feed me,” begged the victimized Imp. The smart, proud, and determined Imp was gone in a flash.
Robbed of it all by Jenaphila’s tactics.
Sam lost his appetite.
Three - Aster -
Having fed the Imp to the point that she’d be able to function for at least a month without a concern, Sam was troubled.
Inese had only needed two weeks’ worth of Essence before she had calmed down. After that, she’d returned to a semi-normal state but still seemed “hungry”. Her entire presence hungered for him in a way he hadn’t felt since his first night with Irma.
If every Imp in the country was like Inese, they were all just a week away from going Essence starved. Knocking Jenaphila down from her perch wouldn’t just bring down her little criminal empire, it’d likely send the entirety of Imp society into a ditch.
Because as far as he knew, Jenaphila was Imp society.
Especially since—outside of Irma and her grandmother—he hadn’t met any other Imps who weren’t part of Jena’s camp. He didn’t doubt that there were more out there, he just hadn’t met them.
Inese was sitting in the other room, dozing on the couch. Apparently, having more Essence than she’d ever had previously in her life had made her sleepy. To the point that she fell asleep sitting upright once Sam got her to sit back down.
“That was… very strange,” Aster murmured, watching Sam from the edge of the bed. She and Hillary had remained in the bedroom while he’d talked to Inese, but he figured Aster would peek through the appliances.
“Strange? No,” Sam said, leaning up against the wall. “Awful and destructive? Evil? Yes. I’m all for control. I enjoy it as much as any other planar lord would.
“But I’m not in for control through torture.”
“That didn’t look like torture,” Hillary argued from her spot on the bed next to Aster. She was leaning back on her arms. “It looked more like a crack-head needing a fix or somethin’.”
“And that’d be the torture,” Sam said folding his arms across his chest. “An Imp without Essence is a lot like a crack-head. Especially if they’ve had a dedicated source of it for a while.
“Pretty sure Jena is feeding all her Imps just enough Essence to keep them on the hook and wanting more.”
“But… I knew Irma before you did,” Hillary said, shaking her head. “She mentioned once she didn’t know about Essence before you. She didn’t act like… that.”
“That’s just it, though. Ask her how she felt sometime,�
� Sam said, holding a hand out in front of himself. “If she’s being honest, she’ll tell you she was hungry. Hungry all the time and could never feel full. A hunger that nothing satiated. Some Imps will go to great lengths to try and fill that craving. Drugs, sex, adrenaline, you name it. They’re seeking something to fill that void.
“Irma just… ignored it and pranced along as if it weren’t a problem. She’s a very strong Imp.”
Aster nodded her head slowly at that.
“All my Imps were fed Essence by simply being in my plane,” Aster murmured. “They never really wanted for more, but they certainly didn’t want to ever leave the plane. I wonder what Jena did with them.”
“Wait, but, you told me once that you… ah… you… fill me with Essence whenever we have sex,” Hillary said, her cheeks turning red once more.
“Doppelgangers are all magic. So your body can store Essence at no cost because you’re not really mortal,” Sam said. “You’re more like Aster or I. I use you as a personal storage vault. No reason not to.”
“Yeah, you reek of Essence, Hill. You’re like a damn vault though. I can’t reach any of it because it’s not my Essence,” Aster said, then she laughed softly. “Though it does kind of mark you out as being Incubus-fed. And judging by how much Essence you’re carrying around, you really spend a lot of time on your back.”
Hillary lifted her chin up slightly and blinked rapidly.
“Well, good to know,” she said, ignoring Aster’s last comment completely. “Sounds like you should be trying to fill Inc-Suc with Doppels though.”
“Would if I could. Your race used to be rather hard to find,” Sam muttered. “I spent quite a while hunting female Doppels and offering them deals. They always said no. You were my first, remember?”
“Oh, yeah. I uh… forgot about that,” Hillary said, still not looking at Aster.
“Aww, you busted our sweet Sam’s Doppel-cherry?” Aster said, then leaned over to press herself into Hillary’s side. “Hill, you terrible thing, you.”
Squeaking, Hillary batted at Aster’s hands and then scooted further away on the bed.
“Stop it. Shut up, Ass,” Hillary growled, sounding angry, but not looking it.
Clearly they’ve bonded far more than I thought. I wonder why.
Or how.
Hm.
“Knock it off or I’m telling Abby you’re being a cunt when she gets back,” Hillary warned when Aster started moving closer again.
“You’re no fun,” Aster grumbled. “Fine, okay. Come ‘ere, I’m sorry.”
Aster then practically leapt at Hillary and began kissing her all over her face. Loud, obnoxious, wet kissing noises.
“Oh my shit, Ass. Stop, stop, stop,” Hillary said, wrestling with the Torment of Lightning.
I’m not sure if I should be laughing at this, or worried that Aster’s incarceration cracked her.
“Gimmie some sugar, baby,” Aster said, then bit Hillary’s neck, causing the Doppelganger to squeal and laugh at the same time.
The Doppelganger rapidly became a full ogre-sized version of herself and casually pried Aster off.
“Damnit, Ass, I’m so telling Abby,” Hillary said as she casually tossed Aster back onto the bed.
“Oooh, baby, rough me up some more,” Aster laughingly teased after hitting the bed.
“Stupid,” declared Hillary with her own laugh. “So stupid.”
Both women then slowly looked at Sam, as if only just remembering he was there.
“Don’t look at me. I’d go in for a three-way, but Hillary said no,” Sam responded with a shrug.
“Oh! Is it time to fuck me?” Aster said, and then kicked off her slip-on sneakers. Lying flat on the bed, she started to shimmy out of her shorts. “Bring it, Torment of Lust. I’m betting I can take more than you can give.”
Getting her shorts off, she flicked them at Sam. With a soft whap, they hit him square in the chest and fell to the ground at his feet.
She wasn’t wearing any panties, which fit her attitude right now perfectly Sam supposed.
Aster pulled her tank-top up over her head while scooting to the center of the bed. Her lack of a bra resulted in her being very naked, very quickly. She was only wearing a pair of short socks now. Balling the tank-top up, she flung it at Sam as well, but it landed at his feet instead.
“Well?” asked the Elemental who was likely older than him. Naked, beautiful, toned, and looking like a magazine model, Aster was clearly ready and wanting him.
Reaching down between her legs, she placed her fingers to each side of the thin lips of her slit and then spread herself wide open.
Her pink insides looked moist and ready. Then they slowly contracted until they were nearly shut.
“See? I’ve been practicing tightening up for the last two weeks. Going to make you want so much of my immortal pussy, you forget all your other women. Come get it, big boy and get hooked for life.
“This is yours for four hundred years, so make sure you get as much as you can. When it’s gone, it’s gone,” Aster said, letting go of her privates. Then she smacked her own rear end with both hands and laid her hands on her thighs. “Grab my camera, Hill? It’s in my purse. Get a few of me before he dirties me up. Need to commemorate it.”
Sam really didn’t know how to take this right now.
He had forward women in his life—Irene really pushed sometimes like no one else could—but this was definitely right up there.
There was a click next to him that made him turn his head.
Hillary had a camera in hand and was taking photos of Aster on the bed. Just as the other woman had requested.
Aster was posing in some very sultry ways. Spreading herself open, caressing her own breasts, and even working two fingers inside herself.
“Perfect. Thanks, Hill. Make sure you get some good shots of him nuts deep in me, okay? Some from the side where he’s just destroying me,” Aster asked. “And maybe a few after he creampies me. Like when it’s dribbling out and stuff.”
“Uh, sure,” Hillary mumbled. She looked uncomfortable, but it seemed she was willing to do as Aster asked.
Aster then held her hands out to Sam and wiggled her fingers at him.
“Come on already, baby-boy. I need some dick, so come give it to me. I’ll give you head on camera next time,” Aster offered.
Moving away from the wall, Sam quickly stripped himself out of his clothes. He’d been meaning to eat Aster. He’d just been busy.
“Damn, you’re hung,” Aster muttered, spreading her legs further apart. Her eyes locked to Sam’s privates. “See, now I kinda wanna suck it first, but I’m also really horny. Super horny.”
Chuckling, Sam crawled up on top of Aster and set his hands against her hips.
Smiling up at him, Aster shifted around under him and then wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Gonna fuck you so good, Sam,” Aster murmured.
Deliberately, carefully, Sam slipped himself into Aster’s psyche. With her being so willing, so needy, so full of desire, she might as well have been a piggy bank with a missing stopper.
Her defenses didn’t exist to him at the moment.
Staring back at him was a damaged, intelligent, frightened, and very hurt woman. Her years of captivity—of being starved nearly to death while being forced to power a grid—had hurt her.
He knew without asking that whatever had happened to her before Jena was almost as bad, or at least was similar. Aster had been a captive for far too long.
The self-assured Torment of Lightning was a thin facade of what she used to be. Acting like what she felt she should be doing, if she were her old self.
Aster wasn’t the Torment anymore at all.
She was also terrified of Sam. Terrified that he’d reject her. That he’d treat her as little more than a sex toy and discard her whenever he wanted.
So much so, that she was acting like it was no big deal in an attempt to try and hide those feelings.
Worst
of all, it was very likely that Aster had no idea any of this was really going on in her head. She’d rationalized it all away.
But Sam could always dig into a person when sex was involved. Little could be hidden from him when it came to fears and desires.
Aster was just like all his other women. She wanted to be loved and accepted, first and foremost.
And was afraid of it.
“Shit. It’s been so long, I feel like a teenager all over again,” Aster muttered, her ankles coming up to wrap around Sam’s hips. “Damn. You’re not going to ki—”
Before she could finish, Sam leaned his head down and kissed her tenderly. It was what she didn’t want, but also what she needed in a way.
Going still, her muscles locking up under him, Aster froze.
Kissing her, Sam brought his hips forward, his tip catching against her entry.
Sam vaguely heard the click of a camera behind him as he continued to kiss Aster.
Slowly she began to kiss him back, her lips softening, her muscles gradually losing their tension. In a handful of seconds, she started kissing him with a ferocious need. Her hands pressing to the back of his head, as if she were afraid he’d pull away.
Pulling his knees up, Sam set them to either side of Aster’s rear end. Moving forward, he began to sink himself into Aster’s warm and tight interior.
Moaning against his mouth, Aster’s fingers curled into his hair, pulling him down harder.
Inside the depths of her mind, she was a quivering ball of fear and desire. Terrified of Sam, of the possibility of falling for him while being nothing more than a sex-doll to him.
He could ignore all of that and just give her a really good orgasm, and it would be more than enough. Her needs were simple and complex at the same time.
In fact, he’d even found her true name while digging around inside of her. All he had to do was command her appropriately and she’d be begging for more.
Except, that wasn’t enough for him.
Not anymore, at least.
After making love to a number of the women in his harem without feeding on them, he realized he wasn’t the same anymore.
That he wasn’t the Torment of Lust.
