In his sleep, Salavira was soft and obedient, like a piece of ice that had melted, and when you licked it, the water tasted as sweet as honey. Asmodeus thoroughly enjoyed himself that night, to the point where Salavira’s body was overexerted, and he almost woke up several times from the intense stimulation.
When Asmodeus finally decided to let him off, allowing him to awaken from the endless dream, it was already the next day’s dusk. The setting sun was like blood, and the golden afterglow was shattered into pieces by the cold iron bars of the cage, sending the last warmth before nightfall to the poor Holy Son who had been tormented for nearly a day and night.
Salavira’s thick eyelashes were wet with tears, sticking together, and when he opened his eyes, there was a slight itch. His gaze was somewhat vacant, and it took a while for his hazy consciousness to finally notice the weakness and strange sensations coming from all over his body. It took him some more time to understand what had happened to his body while he was asleep.
After panting tiredly for a while, Salavira shifted his gaze from the setting sun outside the window to Asmodeus lying beside him. Unlike his own naked body, Asmodeus was dressed impeccably, with his collar buttoned up to the top, wrapping himself tightly, looking like a noble gentleman who had mistakenly wandered into a garden, very proper indeed.
—But that was if you ignored his aggressive, almost scorching gaze.
Seeing Salavira turn his head, Asmodeus raised an eyebrow with a smile, waiting for the tormented little cat to show its claws or fangs. But to his surprise, Salavira just glanced at him, then tugged at his sleeve like he was trying to please him, and said in a hoarse voice, “Asmodeus, I’m hungry.”
Asmodeus was slightly taken aback. Hungry. After being tormented for so long, it was indeed time to be hungry. But saying this in such a situation, in such a scene, had a bit of a pampering partner feel to it, making one can’t help but think, if this level doesn’t bother him, then next time… could I be even more excessive?
Asmodeus’s gaze darkened, causing Salavira to instinctively shiver, and those places on his body that had been teased so much reacted without shame. He tugged harder on Asmodeus’s sleeve: “…I want to eat a grilled steak.”
…
Later, Asmodeus, perhaps out of rare conscience, temporarily let Salavira off. After feeding him, the two of them unusually spent a peaceful night in bed. In the days that followed, almost every day was like this, with only a few things they did together—eating, sleeping, making love, and bathing.
Salavira’s attitude remained the same as that day, extremely obedient. Except for occasionally biting when driven to the brink, at other times, no matter how excessively he was treated, he gritted his teeth and endured, trying to make his body adapt, even finding some enjoyment in these acts that could be called rough.
Thus, this body, watered by sex for so long, finally shed its initial greenness, becoming a plump, mature fruit, ready to be squeezed for sweet juice with just a gentle pinch. But after eating for so long, Asmodeus increasingly felt something was off.
You couldn’t blame him; after all, the last time Salavira showed such obedient docility was to steal the magic power of his avatar.
“Salavira.”
During one of their… sessions, Asmodeus suddenly played a trick, stopping just before reaching the climax, holding back the overwhelming urge, leaving Salavira stuck in a limbo, and began the “interrogation”:
“Tell me, what is your true purpose?”
The unfilled body felt an unprecedented emptiness, making it almost impossible for Salavira to think, so he could only ask with tears in his eyes, “…What?”
Asmodeus brushed aside the sweat-dampened hair on his forehead: “You were never one to easily submit. Why have you been so obedient lately? What do you really want?”
What do I want…
Salavira’s consciousness was almost burned to ashes by desire, barely able to discern the meaning of the last few words. He helplessly held onto Asmodeus’s shoulders, trying to move on his own, only to find his waist and legs bound tightly by shadows from nowhere, unable to move, leaving his fate in the hands of the demon before him.
There was almost no time to think, and tortured to the point of losing his mind, Salavira instinctively blurted out his answer: “I… I want your…”
Such explicit words came out of his mouth so easily, a stark contrast to the usually aloof and noble Holy Son, and then in the next moment, the end of his sentence shattered into a lewd cry.
Asmodeus then pinched his chin: “Salavira, answer my question properly!”
The surging tide came and went in an instant, and Salavira only felt like a stranded fish, desperately craving the sea, yet the god who controlled the ocean insisted on teasing him, giving him just enough water to not quench his thirst, but instead, stir up a deeper desire for the waves.
“Asmodeus… please… I beg you…”
The beauty wept, his voice hoarse with pleading, but even in this situation, the demon could still suppress the madness within, motionless as he continued his interrogation.
But the previous two questions hadn’t yielded the desired result, forcing Asmodeus to change his strategy. He leaned down, gently kissing Salavira’s cheek, and asked seductively, “Do you want it that badly, Your Highness?”
Salavira immediately whimpered with a sob, but what followed was Asmodeus’s continued coaxing—”Be good, if you want it, answer my question.”
“What…?”
Asmodeus patiently repeated his earlier words: “Tell me, why have you been so uncharacteristically obedient lately?”
The person beneath him paused, quiet for a while, seemingly trying to understand the simple question. Then, perhaps gradually adapting to the emptiness, Salavira’s desire-clouded consciousness finally cleared a bit.
His eyes quickly welled up with tears, but then he smiled: “No reason…”
Salavira wrapped his arms around Asmodeus’s neck, their lips almost touching, speaking with a slight brush that brought a subtle itch and shiver, allowing them to catch the unique scent of each other’s bodies.
It was truly enticing, and extremely ambiguous. Even the words Salavira spoke were the same, almost impossible to resist: “Asmodeus… I’m already your prisoner, what else can I do but please you? Maybe one day, when you’re satisfied, you’ll be willing to give me a brief moment of freedom, won’t you—”
“My… master?”
The final title finally broke Asmodeus’s restraint, his hands on either side of him bulging with veins, unable to control himself any longer—
“…………”
The temple was silent for a few breaths, no voices heard, only the sound of rapid breathing. Asmodeus was the first to recover, his crimson eyes carrying a deep chill, staring unblinkingly at the unfocused beauty beneath him.
This was the Holy Son those humans worshipped, a being that should have been pure and noble, but now, he had been nurtured into such a lascivious state, a seductress who would actively entice and seek on the bed.
This realization sent a shiver down Asmodeus’s spine, his mind flashing with images of Salavira’s once aloof and cold demeanor, contrasting sharply with the person beneath him now, repeatedly tugging at Asmodeus’s precarious sanity, stirring the unquenched desire in his lower abdomen…
“Well played, Salavira…” Asmodeus lowered his head, gently licking the vulnerable neck of the beauty beneath him, feeling the slight tremors, and at the moment of relaxed vigilance, pierced the tender skin with sharp teeth!
“Ah!”
Salavira cried out, the pain pulling him from the sea of desire, tears in his eyes as he grabbed Asmodeus’s hair, pulling hard until he finally got him to release his neck.
Asmodeus, lifting his head, licked the blood on his lips: “Awake now?”
Salavira returned a puzzled look, but then Asmodeus asked the question again: “Can you tell me now, Salavira? What is your true purpose?”
Salavira’s eyes gradually widened: “Asmodeus, why are you suddenly so fixated on this question?”
“Fixated? Ha, Salavira, you should know, last time I suffered a great loss from your obedient facade, how can I not be cautious?”
Seemingly recalling something, Salavira curled his lips into a smile: “True.”
But then he sighed: “However, this time you’ll be disappointed. Being suddenly locked up by you, I didn’t have time to leave any backup plans. So, besides pleasing you and suffering less, what else can I do?”
The words were sincere and reasonable, but Asmodeus raised an eyebrow: “I don’t believe it. Salavira, I know you, you’re never one to easily bow to others, how could you just compromise with your enemy like this?”
“………” Salavira didn’t answer.
The smile on his face gradually faded, meeting Asmodeus’s scrutinizing gaze for a long time, but eventually, he looked away.
“Asmodeus… do you really need me to say it out loud?”
Salavira’s lips parted slightly, but he let out a long sigh, his eyes once again showing the fragility from the first night in the temple, ready to shatter at a touch.
“What?”
“I just… want to adapt as quickly as possible before that day comes. Once I adapt, I won’t be so afraid.”
“…That day?” Asmodeus increasingly couldn’t understand what this person was saying, but for some reason, his heart suddenly began to pound violently.
Then, he heard Salavira’s explanation: “Yes, that day, when you tire of me and throw me to those nobles to vent their desires.”
Saying such words, Salavira let out a bitter laugh: “You locked me in this place, isn’t it to humiliate me and take revenge on me?”