Page 60 of Unholy Fate

Astaroth growled low in his throat but didn’t respond. I knelt, my movements slow and deliberate.

“You think you’re clever, don’t you?” I whispered. “Manipulating her, bending her to your will. But you forget, Astaroth, everything you are, everything you do, is because I allow it.”

He spat at my feet. “Then why don’t you stop me?”

My smirk deepened. I gripped his jaw with cruel fingers, relishing the fear that flickered in those defiant eyes. “Oh, I will. But first, you’ll learn your place.”

With a flick of my fingers, invisible chains wrenched Astaroth from the floor. They dragged him into the heart of Hell’s punishment chambers, a vast cavern filled with the stench of brimstone and blood. I followed leisurely, anticipation building within me.

A massive stone slab sat at the center of the chamber, its surface slick with the remnants of past punishments. Chains dangled ominously from the ceiling. I bound Astaroth spread-eagle across the rock, the enchanted chains tightening around his wrists and ankles. He struggled futilely, the chains glowing with fiery runes that sapped his strength.

I circled him, my predatory gaze roaming over his prone form. “Do you remember Prometheus?” I asked conversationally. “He thought he could defy the gods too.”

Astaroth’s expression flickered with uncertainty before he schooled it into a mask of bravado. But I could smell his fear, sharp and tantalizing.

With a gesture, I summoned a monstrous eagle, its feathers black as coal and its talons gleaming like molten steel. The creature descended upon Astaroth, its beak tearing into his abdomen with ruthless precision.

Astaroth roared in agony as the eagle ripped out his liver, his blood splattering across the stone. The pain was excruciating, a searing torment that would feel like it lasted an eternity.

I watched with detached amusement, my arms crossed. “Pain sharpens the mind, Astaroth. It reminds you who holds the leash.”

Astaroth’s demonic healing kicked in almost immediately, his wounds sealing themselves within moments, only for the eagle to start again. His screams echoed off the jagged walls, a symphony to my ears.

Hours passed, the cycle of destruction and healing unrelenting. Astaroth’s cries grew hoarser, but still he refused to break. His defiance remained, a flickering flame that refused to be extinguished.

Finally, I sighed, feigning boredom. “This could go on forever,” I said. “But I’m feeling generous tonight.”

Astaroth glared at me through the veil of pain, his dark blue skin slick with blood and sweat. “What do you want?”

I leaned in close, my hot breath ghosting over his face. “I want you to submit. Completely.”

Astaroth’s jaw tightened, his silence defiant.

“Your choice, Astaroth. Continue suffering, or let me show you another kind of pain. One you might actually enjoy.” I traced a clawed finger down his chest, relishing his involuntary shudder. “I know you’ve enjoyed it in the past.”

Oh yes, I remembered well the times I had taken him, the exquisite blend of pleasure and pain that only I could provide. The way he had writhed beneath me, caught between ecstasy and agony.

Astaroth hesitated, his pride warring with the desperate need for the torment to stop. Finally, he said, “Fine.”

My grin widened, triumphant. “Good boy.”

With a snap of my fingers, the eagle vanished in a puff of black smoke, leaving Astaroth bloodied and trembling on the rock. I waved my hand, allowing my infernal power to flow through him, speeding his natural healing.

I approached him, my movements slow and deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey. I unfastened my black, intricately tailored coat, letting it slip from my shoulders to reveal my flawless crimson skin, the sculpted planes of my chest and abdomen.

Astaroth watched me, his dark eyes wary yet tinged with unmistakable hunger. I chuckled, running a hand down my torso. “Like what you see, pet?”

He looked away, jaw clenched. I chuckled, closing the distance between us. My touch was electric, and Astaroth shuddered despite himself as I ran my fingers along his sharp cheekbone, down the elegant column of his neck.

“Relax,” I said in a low, seductive growl. “This will hurt, but you’ll like it. You always do.”

Astaroth gritted his teeth as my hands trailed lower, skimming over his chest and his abdomen, leaving trails of searing heat in their wake. The chains binding him shifted at my silent command, keeping him pinned but adjusting his position, splaying his legs wider to grant me access.

I pressed against him, letting him feel the hard, hot length of me through the fabric of my trousers. He inhaled sharply, his body tensing.

“So responsive,” I said. “So eager for my touch, even as you try to deny it.”

Astaroth glared at me, but there was no mistaking the quickening of his breath. “I’m not eager,” he said. “I’m just tired of fighting.”

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