<em>If I were her but turned around so his face was buried in my crotch... Oh no, is this damned realm making me think like them? </em><br/><br/>The latent daemon seed and general corrupting influence of the plane itself conspired to make anything erotic and appealing, even in the face of its terrible consequences.<br/><br/><hr/><br/>“Rivenheart. Such an elegant name. Perfect for elegant beings such as yourselves.”<br/><br/>“Oh yes, it’s paradise, and you can enjoy it too as you come to fulfill your greatest potential.  The best part is we all help make it heaven for each other!” one transformed woman giggled, stroking Alice’s shoulder with familiarity.<br/><br/>Following the “women” now, they all came to the sprawling city that began with a few scattered villas, and coalesced to a concentration of palaces and towers in the center.  There were a few individuals out and about, either walking the path they did, or among the estates.  Most of the time, when encountering strangers, one would pass laborers, merchants, soldiers, and more laborers working and transporting goods.  Here, however, everyone was at their ease, dressed in fine, comfortable clothes—an eclectic mix as everyone seemed to favor different cultures—and those touring the villas looked like masters at their ease, enjoying the sunset and view, or relaxing with a cold drink, rather than toiling at crops in the fields.  While there were gardens and vineyards around, there weren’t any servants working them.  Instead the fruit lay ripe and fat on the vine, ready to be plucked and consumed, with no worry of vermin or rot stealing the harvest.  The abyssal soil seemed to give its fruits freely, and with no labor, everyone was free to follow their own direction and whim.<br/><br/>The facade to the city proper seemed to be no proper wall or gate, but instead a free-standing marble arch that stood tall and wide, welcoming all to march in boldly.  The city had avenues and cross-streets, with blocks dedicated to open-air temples, feasthalls, conservatories, and all manner of entertainment and luxury.  Alice heard a voice singing an easy, lilting melody as they continued down the road, and even as it faded behind, it would be picked up by another singer in another area, resulting in an ambient background tune that snaked throughout the city.<br/><br/>Some of the areas they passed seemed to contain residences, from which one could hear and even see couples taking advantage of the romantic setting and getting down to business.  None of the buildings seemed to have any doors or barriers—at most there may be a beaded curtain, length of colorful gauze, or perhaps some hanging ivy, but nothing really stopped one from spying or even entering anywhere.  More than once Alice saw a couple enter an apartment of a couple mid-coitus and simply join in, swapping partners or combining together.<br/><br/>Beyond the residences or apartments they passed, there was sometimes a shadowed alley where a couple could furtively fuck against a wall.  Seeing how free and open the sex was elsewhere, this itself seemed more of a contrivance, especially when the couple caught Alice’s gaze and stared right back, pumping harder almost at her.  The succubi led the group through the winding streets, which were not well organized or labeled, and there was barely a sign of district themes—rather there was a mix of whatever one might be looking for together.  There might be a butcher and confectioner and bakery all by each other, with a tavern/brothel across the street with drug den and temple flanking it.  People stumbled or even crawled from one to another, gorging on delicacies and wine, or emaciated and looking for yet another hit of their drug of choice to sleep for a week.  “It’s like kids in a candy store, as I’ve been told,” Violet smiled to her new companions.  "Though do the children eat so much candy they die in your world?  That sometimes happens here, both metaphorically and literally.  It’s the most delightful mess.”<br/><br/>The ambient melody of voices changed its tone, from a gentle susurration of calm to a more triumphant, gloriating exultation.  The crowds around them—those with enough awareness and strength to do so—looked to each other in excitement and started to crowd the streets as well, though they mostly parted ways when noticing the violet-haired succubus and her entourage.  A few were too distracted or obstinate, and with these, Violet just smiled sweetly as she violently shoved them aside, the fortunate ones crashing into the crowd, the less fortunate cracking their heads on the street.  Following along, the mortals found much of the city crowding into or around an amphitheater.  With Violet clearing a path, they were able to enter and see a dias in the center with some sort of stone altar, and freestanding caryatid columns all around.  Atop of these columns, the singers that Alice had been hearing had all converged—twelve beautiful women who looked much like Violet, they could all be sisters, with their vibrantly colored hair differentiating them.  Violet too flew up to a vacant pillar and joined in their song of glory, her hair starting to glow with a halo like the others’ various shades of black, blue, white, red, and even green.  Despite the beauty of the song and architecture, one couldn’t help but also notice their positioning gave most the opportunity to look up someone’s dress.  Some of the singers stood at attention, ignoring but allowing this, while several others arched and posed to give the most flattering angles and views to these lucky audiences.<br/><br/><div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/LlymDMl.png)</div>At some invisible signal, the singers’ voices dropped low, which seemed to signal to the crowd for their attention.  Nothing appeared to be happening, until a few voices called out and pointed at the red sky.  Up in the air was some sort of flock, a large cloud of white birds, and below them a large basket.  They approached the amphitheater, and it appeared that thousands of doves were carrying a basket wrought of white roses, and they descended to lay it upon the central dias.  The collection of flowers fell apart there, setting the doves free to fly off, and revealing the sharply dressed woman they had conveyed.  In a black suit and red shirt, tailored to hug her every voluptuous curve, the woman was as beautiful as the frankly skewed curve of the local population, but she also carried herself with an easy authority of absolute power.  Stepping up to the altar like a podium, the columns of singers started a light applause, signaling the crowd to join, growing into a roar of claps and cheers.  The woman smiled and waved, picking up a flower, smelling it, and throwing it out into the crowd, who leapt to catch it, starting a small scrap until one man emerged victorious with it in fist, his nose merely bleeding a bit.<br/><br/>Laughing and clapping politely, the regal woman spoke with a strong voice, melodic with amusement, “Good show, young man.  We’ll see how hot that vigor runs later, won’t we?” she asked the crowd in general, who all cheered and whistled knowingly, those nearby clapping the man on the back.  The woman spoke with a strong, clear voice, but even beyond the natural amplification of the theatre, there had to have been some magical resonance that let it continue to carry over and through the crowd all murmuring and cackling in hundreds of little conversations, at least half of them drunkenly.  “As a woman who needs no introduction, allow me to introduce myself to some of our newer guests!” she waved to the crowd in general, “Welcome to Rivenheart, my little slice of paradise that I hope you all have been enjoying?”  That elicited a round of cheers and applause.  “A little too much over there, I’m sure—I see you, you wicked thing!  Don’t you drink all my wine by yourself!” she pointed out and scolded a friend in the audience with a wide smile.  With the bearing of a queen, she warmed up and entertained the crowd as a very experienced master of ceremony.  The succubi around Alice tittered and clapped, entertained by both their apparent queen and the way she could wrap everyone around her finger.<br/><br/>“My name is Malcanthet, your humble queen,” she curtsied.  “Call me Mal.  Or Mommy.  Or Mistress.”  Each little poke, prod, and significant look at the audience heightened the tension, eliciting a little moan, squeal, or cheer.  “Now, let me ask you something very personal…” she lowered her voice conspiratorially, still magically carried over the barely containable audience, “Is anyone here tonight… a virgin…?” she grinned wickedly.  The revelers whistled and laughed, with several letches waving their arms as volunteers.  “Now, now, nothing to be ashamed of—and of course there’s many different virginities to lose!” she offered, beginning to stalk around the perimeter of the amphitheater, examining her audience one by one.  “—Or give…” she bit the air at a young man in the front, who actually managed to blush a bit at this moment of personal attention.  As she made her inspection of the crowd, she would look one in the eye, or sniff, or play with a stray lock of hair, as if measuring some ephemeral virtue.  Stopping at one young lady, the queen stopped and smiled warmly.  “Oh, yes, what’s your name, my sweet?”  The lady was wide-eyed with shyness and awe, and only flapped her jaw a few times before whispering something.  “Rose?  Oh dear, you are just too perfect.  Tell you what, my flower, how about you and I get better acquainted over at my private chalet, and we’ll keep each other<em>good</em>company, hmm?”  She pet the twitterpated young lady, who could only nod and swallow hard as everyone whistled and catcalled around her.<br/><br/><div class="floatright">(https://cdna.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/002/234/796/4k/john-bridges-schematic002.jpg?1459098038)</div>Stalking back to the central dias, their host spread her arms, holding a champagne glass that had appeared somehow, and once again addressed her guests together.  “Well I won’t bore you any more, my dears.  You have your entertainments to return to, as do I.  Eat, drink, be merry, and remember, hangovers and regrets are for tomorrow!” she laughed, and the crowd once again cheered and applauded as they dispersed.  Two of the mounted singers—with Hyacinth-purple and Midnight-blue halos—had descended to escort the guests of honor to the Malcanthet’s private estate.  Violet returned to Alice and the mortals, smiling expectantly, “What do you think of your host, ladies?  I think you can see this is a never-ending vacation in paradise, so don’t you worry about a thing.  Those mean ol’ gnolls didn’t know how to treat a lady, I should think, no?  Let’s see about finding a more pleasant way to occupy you all than wandering around getting eaten by wild beasts.”<br/><br/>With a wave of her hand, the succubi helped herd the mortal ladies further, this time away from what seemed the city center.  This direction, the bustle of services and parties thinned, and contained more grassy parks, hanging gardens, and monuments, until they came to some sort of ranch or stables.  There was a wide fenced area containing a barn and stables, though Alice didn’t see any horses inside.  Violet led them into the barn, in which was the usual supplies of hay, small carriages and buggies, and more unusually, a large arcane circle on the ground.  “Gather around ladies, all together.  We don’t want to leave anyone behind now!” she called.  Once everyone was bundled within the perimeter of the circle, Violet began invoking its magic commands.  The circle and abyssal runes began to glow, until the final command, “Miomanta-Violet!” upon which the dimly-lit barn disappeared.