Legacies

by Patrick Stewart

  Chapter 17

  It hadn’t been part of Martial’s plan to spend time in Cornhill-on-Tweed. Truth was, he didn’t really have a solid plan. He had only recently decided to take on apprentices again as he was certain war with the demons would be inevitable.

  He was sure Satan was back too.

  What he didn’t understand was how Satan could be back. He was supposed to have died in Heaven, along with God and Lucifer. That would have been a strange sentence to any person from the twenty-first century, back when they worshiped God.

  That was all wrong.

  God wasn’t the creator of mankind, of everything. He was an entity from another parallel universe, or something like that. He and his angel kind were fleeing from monsters in their universe. They escaped into this universe by cutting through with the appropriately named Cutting Knife. That same knife had been used to kill God.

  Satan was a demon from Hell, possibly the first demon, he was almost impossible to kill. Almost. Satan had been in the same room as God when an Immortal had stabbed God with the Cutting Knife. God exploded, and in the ensuing explosion, Satan died too, as did the Immortal.

  But the Immortal came back from the dead, aided by Lucifer.

  For much of human history, religion confused the two as being the same, Lucifer was synonymous with Satan.

  It was far from the truth.

  Lucifer was the first human on earth. Unlike other humans, he did not age or die, and he had powers. He was stronger and faster than any human, and he could control the earth, make it erupt and destroy entire forests. He could dig big holes in the ground simply by placing his hand on it, send spikes of rock flying through the air, gutting his enemies.

  Despite being strong and almost invincible, Lucifer was no match for Satan or God.

  The demons came from the ground, the angels came from above. They both wanted the souls of the humans, the souls that either rose up to Heaven or sunk down to Hell depending on whether the human died with a guilty or clean conscience.

  Down in Hell, the demons used the human souls as slaves, and as material for their weapons.

  Up in Heaven, God and his angels used the human souls to give them power and live for ever.

  Either way, it had been a shit arrangement for humans. With God and Satan against him, Lucifer didn’t stand a chance.

  That was, until he merged his soul with an Immortal. In his final act, Lucifer and the Immortal used the Cutting Knife to kill God and Satan. Lucifer died too, in the explosion. The Immortal was brought back to life by the souls in heaven.

  He returned to earth to lead the humans as demons and angels poured into earth.

  The humans were able to eventually hold their own once they got over the shock of seeing demons and angels. But only because God was dead, along with his Archangels. And so was Satan, and his less known sister, Satani.

  The world was ravaged when war broke out between angels and demons. Humans left the twenty-first century with all its technological advances, military advances, and returned to what resembled the medieval period.

  After battling for almost two hundred years, with the aid of Immortals, humans that did not die of natural causes, humans that were insanely strong and fast, a truce was reached. The land was divided between humans, demons and angels.

  Aside from the occasional skirmishes, that truce had persisted for almost a hundred years.

  But Martial feared that was going to come to an end.

  If Satan really had returned, the demons would regain their advantage. It didn’t matter how many Immortals there were remaining, and how many Legacy descendants they had, they would not be enough to deal with Satan.

  But despite knowing that, it wasn’t in Martial to just give up. He would do his best, train as many Legacies as possible and kill as many demons as he could. And for that reason, staying in Cornhill-on-Tweed a little longer would work. It would be a decent place to begin training his girls.

  * * *

  Martial settled into Cornhill-on-Tweed and took over Flittick’s residence. It was perfect for a base. The house had many bedrooms, a large kitchen and the back garden was perfect for training.

  Martial started the training immediately. Every morning, Michelle, Cassie and Martha would start training with their swords. Martha was the most skilled, and he let her supervise them. After practicing with swords, they moved onto physical exercise, doing laps around the large garden. From there one, they practiced the skills that were unique to Legacies.

  Jumping.

  It didn’t seem like much, but Legacies were able to jump to extraordinary heights. Martha began with a demonstration. Dropping to one knee, she stared up at the balcony on the second floor. Martial watched with mild interest as she leaped, rose up off the ground, past the first floor, past the railing on the second and landed on the balcony. It took some practice to get it right. He remembered his first time jumping, when he overshot his jump and flew over the warehouse rather than through the window on the second floor.

  “Cassie,” Martha called down from the balcony. “You’re up.”

  Cassie glanced at Martial before she strode up confidently. She didn’t even pause to assess the height. She leapt up and landed in the balcony, her landing as perfect as Martha’s.

  Martha had underestimated the girls. It might have had something to do with the girls’ lack of heritage. She had no idea what generation Legacies they were, and possibly assumed that meant they were later generation.

  Martial left them to their training and headed out. He had other things to take care of. Mounting his horse, he headed for the pub. The streets were quiet, as it usually was when a new Legacy took over. The townsfolk stayed hidden until the fighting was over, and until they knew what this new Legacy would be like.

  The fighting was over, for the most part. Perry’s men had the senses to flee. He had other collaborators. There were the men working in the valley, mining it for materials that were used to create weapons. Martial would have to pay them a visit at some point. It was a fortunate town to stumble upon. Mines ready for building weapons were he to raise an army.

  But that was for another time. Right now, he needed to sort out the women in the brothel. Many were kidnapped and forced into sexual slavery, all were treated badly. Mistress Atika, the brothel owner, would have to go.

  And Martial had the perfect woman in mind to replace her.

  To run the brothel.

  Macy.

  That’s where he was headed to now.

  Martial dismounted outside the pub and fastened his black stallion to the pole. The pub was empty, not a single customer inside. Macy sat on a stool behind the bar, an empty glass before her, she looked bored.

  Her face lit up as she spotted him walking in. “Martial,” she smiled. “Or shall I call you Master?” she winked.

  “Apprenticeships are for Legacies only,” Martial said. “But I do have another proposition for you.”

  “Oh?” Macy leaned over the counter and jutted her chest forward, pressing her breasts together. She was wearing a low-cut top that showed plenty cleavage. “And what might that be?”

  “I want you to run the brothel.”

  “What?” Macy frowned. “I thought you were going to ask something more personal…” her hand left the counter and trailed down his arm. Coming to his hand, she lifted it up and brought it to her bosom.

  Martial pulled her top down, letting her large breasts hang out. She had large pink nipples. Martial took hold of them and pulled gently, watching her face as her eyes began to close, as her lips parted. He continued to play with her breasts until he bored of it and stopped suddenly.

  “Want to go upstairs?” Macy asked, her breathing heavy. “Or we could do it here? Wherever you want. Whatever you want.”

  “I want you to run the brothel,” Martial said. “Think about it. It’ll suit you well. You’re strict, so you’ll keep the girls in line. But you’re fair, so you’ll treat them well. And, I know you like girls, so… y
ou can have fun with them.”

  “I do like girls,” Macy said. “But I like you more.”

  “Yes, but think how much fun we could have together when I come to see you, and you have the pick of girls for us to play with?”

  Macy’s face lit up once more. “There are some hot girls working there… I’ve been a little partial to the darker girls,” she giggled.

  “Great,” Martial said. “So, it’s settled. Let’s go.”

  “Now?”

  “No time like the present,” Martial said. “Who knows what the world will be like tomorrow,” or whenever Satan made an appearance, he thought, but didn’t say out loud. The name of the devil terrified even Legacies. He didn’t want to see what it would do to normal humans.

  Macy walked around the counter, and as they made it to the door, she paused to fix her top, to put her breasts away.

  “You really do have gorgeous breasts,” Martial said. “Shame you need to cover them up all the time.”

  “Oh, I don’t need to cover them,” Macy said. She grabbed them with both hands and pressed them together. “If you like to see them on display, I’ll keep them out for you.”

  Martial smiled. He was really beginning to like Macy. He slapped her bottom as they headed out and laughed as she yelped. It had been a hard strike. Harder than Martial had intended it to be. An easy thing to happen what with Legacies being so much stronger than humans.

  Macy rubbed her bottom before she jumped onto his horse behind him. They set off for the whorehouse.

  * * *

  With the sun now in the middle of the sky, a few of the townsfolk had ventured out. Seeing his black stallion striding down the road, they moved out of the way, some lowered their heads and pulled scarves of hoods over their heads, afraid of showing their faces.

  It was a scene Martial had seen all too often. Demons were the real threat, or had been a hundred years ago. With relative peace in the lands, Immortals and Legacies changed. They went from being heroes to being the oppressors.

  They ruled like kings and queens, with absolute authority. More than that, they began to see themselves as better than humans, separate than humans. It was a far cry from their origins. Only the Immortals knew where they had come from, but it was a secret they kept guarded well, a secret that Martial knew the truth of.

  The whorehouse was devoid of customers. At this time of the day, most of its customers were out working, whether in the fields, the mines or their own little shops.

  The front counter was empty, so Martial and Macy walked up the stairs to the rooms where the girls lived their entire lives, working, eating and sleeping.

  The walls were dirty, with torn wallpaper hanging off in various parts. The corridor was long and narrow. It was poorly lit and the floor was full of rubbish, some of it paper, some of it plastic. A few of the doors were open, showing the rooms inside.

  They were small, enough space for a single mattress that had been thrown on the floor, these were the rooms where the girls worked. Each room had a small cupboard full of sex toys. Different sizes and types of dildos, butt plugs, and more.

  At the end, the corridor turned both left and right. One door to the right led into a large shower room. A black girl stood under the water, her hand on her cunt as she rubbed it. She barely flitted an eye as she spotted them.

  Another door led into a room with three girls inside. Each girl was bound to a device that kept their heads down onto the ground, a pole going above their necks. Another pole rose off the ground, keeping their assess up in the air. A bar had been fastened to each girl’s ankles to keep their legs spread apart, and to keep the girls assess on display.

  Each girl had a dildo in her pussy, and another in her ass.

  “By Lucifer,” Macy muttered. “It’s kinda hot, but sadistic too.”

  She skipped into the room and came to stand before the girls. Bending down, she placed a hand on one girl’s face. “She’s asleep. How long do you think they’ve been tied up like this?”

  “Probably all night,” Martial muttered.

  This scene wasn’t anything new to him. He’d seen much worse. He knew what was going on here too. The mistress of the whorehouse was stretching the girl’s cunts and their assess.

  Some men liked women with tight assholes and cunts, other men liked them stretched out.

  “Free them from the bondage and wake them up,” Martial said.

  “Yes Sir,” Macy replied.

  She got about her task eagerly and within a short period of time, unscrewed the bolts and removed the poles. Now free from their bondage, the three girls woke up from their slumber. Martial wondered if the girls had any clue of what was happening. Each girl crawled towards the wall and rested with their backs against it, the dildos and butt plugs still inside them, they sat on their bottoms.

  “They look terrible,” Macy muttered, as she came to stand beside him.

  She was right. The girls were dirty and scrawny. They had large breasts, and from what Martial remembered, curvy bottoms, but the flesh on the rest of their bodies was lacking, their ribcages showing clearly.

  “They must be new,” Martial said. “Not yet sent out in the whorehouse, the mistress probably didn’t see any need in looking after them much until they were ready to be used.”

  “What should we do?” Macy asked.

  Martial sighed. In all his years on this planet, and it had been a great many years now, he still somehow couldn’t harden to human suffering. He picked up a girl in each arm, Macy took the other. He led them out of the room and down the corridor.

  As they came to the centre of the corridor, he spotted a naked girl, her olive skin and hair wet, she had just stepped out of the shower. She stopped as she spotted them.

  “We’re not open yet,” she said with a frown. “At least, I don’t think we are… unless… did mistress send you up? You must be one of her special guests.” There was sudden fear in her eyes. “How can I be of service?” she asked quickly. “I’ve been trained properly, all three of my holes can be used to your desires.”

  “That’s great,” Martial muttered. “But for now, I need something else from you.”

  “Of course, anything. My mind, body and soul are yours to command.”

  Martial frowned. Those were the words Legacy apprentices said to their masters. It had to be a power thing for the humans, to pretend they were Legacies themselves with a bunch of apprentices, willing to devout their lives to them for their pleasure.

  He told the girl what he wanted.

  She nodded quickly and led them towards the shower room. Martial placed each girl on the cold tiled floor. Macy began to clean them with the shower head. The sudden burst of cold water jogged the girls, and they stared around, eyes wide.

  Martial left the girls in Macy’s care. The olive-skinned girl had gone downstairs to prep food for the girls. He would come back to check on them later. Right now, he needed to find the mistress.

  Martial headed back down the stairs and through the corridor that led to the kitchen. He passed the olive-skinned girl standing over the cooker and stepped out into the back garden. It was a scruffy garden, overgrown with weed, litter piled up in the corners. There was a single floor building at the end of the garden.

  Martial marched over and pulled the door off its frame, his anger beginning to rise. He stepped inside and spotted the mistress immediately. She was a woman in her forties with distinct hair, half of it white, the other half black. She sat on a stool staring at her reflection in the dressing table mirror.

  She was a pretty woman, for her age, with a good figure. She turned her head as she spotted him in the mirror.

  “Hello handsome,” she smiled. “We’re not open yet, but for a guy like you, I’d be happy to accommodate any request?”

  She was wearing a silk robe which she parted down the middle to show off her breasts. They were large, and with age, had sagged only a little. The mistress climbed to her feet and let the robe fall off completely. She wa
s a short woman, but curvy with wide hips and a cunt that showed signs of childbirth.

  “Actually, there is something you can do for me,” Martial said. He stepped up to her and took a nipple each between his fingers and pulled on them gently.

  “Anything,” the mistress murmured.

  “Great,” Martial said.

  He let go of her nipples and reached down for her cunt. He pressed two fingers against her slit. They slid in with ease.

  It wasn’t the easiest task to do, to pull a woman by the vagina, but going slowly, Martial led her out of her back room, down the garden and into the kitchen, where the olive-skinned girl was still busy preparing food.

  He led the mistress into the reception room of the whorehouse. It was still empty.

  “Sit,” he told her, and she sat on the floor, staring up at him with puppy eyes. Martial sighed. Sometimes, his aura was a curse. It made it harder for him to punish women when they deserved it. His aura made them so damned amenable.

  Luckily, one this occasion, he wasn’t planning on doing the punishing.

  “Stay,” Martial said, pointing a finger at her.

  He left the room and dashed up the stairs. He found Macy in the shower room. She’d just finished cleaning the final girl.

  “What do you think?” she asked, holding a hand out towards the girls, as if displaying his surprise present.

  It was amazing what a shower could do to three dirty girls. They were still skinny, the flesh thin on their ribcages, their legs and arms slim. But they had nice breasts that were firm. Once upon a time, a look like this was all the rage.

  “Good job,” Martial said. “I need you for something else now. Bring the girls.”

  He walked down the stairs once more, Macy and the three girls in tow, once at the bottom, the naked girls were sent down the corridor and towards the kitchen, where food was being prepared for them.