<b>The Dungeon</b><br/><br/>For a moment, Kerelith stared blankly at the girl as she blurted out the truth. Breakfast?<br/><br/>“Breakfast…?” she repeated out loud, “Is that what you call her? The blonde?”<br/><br/>The demoness corrected her slouch and then helped the girl up from the overly soft leather couch to stand in front of her on the carpet, although keeping an eye on the streak of fresh cum.<br/><br/>“You don’t have to see her ever again,” Kerelith said and put her hands on Melony’s shoulders, looking her in the eye with a concerned look on her face, “What did she do? What about her sisters? Do you need new maids assigned for you? What would you have me do to them? Tell me, I want to know everything!”<br/><br/>While Kerelith listened to what Melony had to say, she gently caressed the girl’s arms, moved them onto her own shoulders, and then lifted Melony spread-legged onto her lap in order to bring her closer, so the girl sat down on her thighs, the softening cock pressed against the butt from below, and their voluptuous tits and bellies squished softly into each other.<br/><br/><br/><b>Sunwatch City</b><br/><br/>It had been nearly fifty years since the reign of the terror demons had ended. The citizens only knew it as a time of madness, when people seemed to kill each other for no apparent reason, unaware of the demonic influence behind it all. Sunwatch had been one of the last great cities to be taken over by the succubi or their allied species of demons more interested in pleasure than torture.<br/><br/>The last time Sheri had walked the city streets almost ten years ago, most people still remembered the times of darkness, and so she couldn’t help but marvel at how much had changed since then, as it was very different to witness it with her own eyes than to paint a mental picture based on what Souris and her other informants had described. The first thing Sheri noticed was that people no longer dressed mostly in black and red and white, but in every color of the rainbow, and for a while she wondered if her outfit seemed completely out of place. It turned out, however, that people didn’t really care, and eventually she came across other youthful women wearing clothes of a similar fashion to hers.<br/><br/>Once the disguised demoness got used to the new look of Sunwatch, her thoughts returned to her age-old acquaintance, and the closer she walked to the district that Souris had pointed her to, the clearer her memories became. At first, Sheri thought of the pain, the sweet, invigorating pain that had made her feel more alive than during any of her lifetimes since. The pain she remembered fondly. It was the darkness, the silence, in between that still sometimes kept her awake at night.<br/><br/>That had been the second time her spirit had gained a physical form. The first lifetime Sheri barely remembered, perhaps she’d spent all of it in the depths of hell, but the second time, she had already felt a sense of purpose to her existance, got hooked on the hunt for power, reached a place where she felt like she belonged… until it had all been taken away. The village had been raided, her mansion burned to the ground, and she’d been locked up in some dungeon for the rest of her days, for years, or decades, or even a century, she never quite found out exactly. It didn’t matter, though. She had died. She had died many times since then, but it had been the only death that had really mattered. After that, she had never let herself get captured ever again.<br/><br/>The only question that still bothered Sheri from that particular past was why the man had told her he was sorry. The night she’d been taken from her home, all he had to do was say nothing, and she’d never have known she’d been betrayed. Perhaps she’d never get the answer, even if she locked him up for the rest of his days, but she did need some kind of closure. There had been rumors, posters with his face, stories of his travels across the lands, but not once Sheri had known where exactly to go look for him, until he’d shown up practically knocking on her door.<br/><br/>When Viktor put down his guitar and once again gazed at his audience, Sheri was already there. Even if the music was different from the songs he had once played for her, she could hear him in the sound and in the silence between the notes, and even if he could no longer recognize her face that had been reshaped over hundreds of years, there would be no mistaking the way she looked at him across the room from behind the rest of the audience. It was a gaze that said ‘Remember me?’ at first solemnly like a long lost lover, and then<i>’Remember me?!’</i>as in ‘I’ll give you a two second head start so you better wish you were already running’.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>