The sensation of getting her body back hit Ishiar like a rubber mallet. One moment, she was pulsing through Ushan's veins, feeling her feelings, being part of her skin, and the next, BAM--She was standing in an unfamiliar room, wearing nothing but a loincloth and a ragged shirt, surrounded by demonesses. The creatures around her wasted no time in clamping iron manacles around her neck, wrists and ankles, a procedure she was quite used to by this point.

Ushan was standing behind her, an ambivalent look etched into her soft features. Ishiar didn't get much of a chance to look, however, as she was already being dragged away by the demonesses.

She was taken up a set of stairs to open ground--at least, she could only assume it was open ground. The sky was a dark, ruddy red, and no features--neither cloud nor star--were visible within. Only a dim, bloody haze was visible in all directions, broken up sporadically by the shape of a mountain or a tall, spire-like building. Black ivy sprawled about the dusty earth, occaisionally twitching as she watched, and everywhere she looked were demonesses in skull-adorned armor.

It was only too obvious where she was: Faneglut, the land of the demonesses.

Her captors led her towards a raised wooden platform. Several other naked captives were on display, each chained up and helpless. Lithe demonesses inspected the captives like farm animals, probing them all over with their fingers and occaisionally tasting their skin. To her horror, Ishiar realized she was being led to a slave auction.

On cue, they roughly shoved her up the platform ramp and placed her prominently at the front of the line of slaves.

"Step right up, my unsavory sisters," Ushan called out to the passing crowds. "Tonight I have a special gift for you. Inside this flesh beats the heart of a warrior, pure, strong, and unbroken!"

Ishiar felt an awkward mix of emotions--fear, betrayal, curiousity, disbelief. She had touched Ushan's spirit--why was she doing this?

She decided to find out the blunt way. "Ushan, um, what the fuck?"

Ushan abruptly stopped calling out, her mouth snapping shut like something had bitten her. With a weak smile that looked almost regretful, she turned to Ishiar. "I'm sorry, darling. I've had my fun with you--now it's their turn."

"But--"

"Those are the rules," Ushan said, turning back to the crowd. "I cannot keep you."

Ushan resumed calling out the virtues of her new sale item, this time in the demonic tongue. Ishiar couldn't help but wonder at the strange behavior of her new "owner." It hadn't even occurred to her that she should be trying to escape until a potential buyer stepped up.

"Noosh gatta fang?" The newly arrived succubus said. She had pale orange skin and a black leather wraparound which she amply filled out. But something about her seemed...well, as Ushan had put it, unsavory.

"Chikitch ma-tong," Ushan continued.

The two haggled a bit and Ishiar stopped listening. A short time later, the newcomer walked away and Ushan turned back to Ishiar.

"She was Bile Fane. Offered a good price, but...I don't think she's your type."

I'm not sure any of them are my type, Ishiar thought.

A few more minutes passed before a tall, muscular succubus approached the platform. She too was dressed in black leather, accentuated with small steel spikes. She had great, sweeping wings, and was holding a curled whip. Her skin was red as blood, and her eyes burned a firey orange.

"How much for the azure-haired slave?" she asked. Her voice was strong and even.

"Thirty stones," Ushan replied.

The demoness looked lasciviously at Ishiar, half like a predator, half like she was sizing up a potential enemy. Striding slowly to the top of the platform, she walked to within an inch of Ishiar's body. Ishiar could feel the heat coming off of the demoness' skin, and abruptly felt a cold sweat begin to coat her back. She stood resolute, however, refusing to cower before this creature.

The demoness' tongue pushed it's way out from between two sets of fanged teeth, stopping just shy of Ishiar's face, as if she was tasting the air around her. The subtle sound of her breath was heavy in Ishiar's ears.

Suddenly the succubus withdrew.

Depositing a small bag of shining gemstones into Ushan's hand, she took up the chains leading to Ishiar's manacles and gave them a sudden yank.

"Walk, slave."

Deciding now was not the time for resistance, sorely tempted though she was, Ishiar complied. She'd get her chance to kack her would-be owner soon enough. Slave indeed.

Had Ishiar looked back, she might have caught Ushan staring after her, subtly biting her lip as she watched Ishiar being led away.

But Ishiar didn't look back.

The crimson demoness started leading her through a maze of jagged streets, overlooked by buildings of black iron and obsidian. The crunch of their footsteps and the distant sound of chittering demonesses qualified, somehow, as an awkward silence.

"So," Ishiar said, "who are you?"

The demoness turned around, but the only answer Ishiar got was a sudden, forceful slap that knocked her whole face to one side. Her cheek throbbed and she felt a number of hot, subtle pinpricks as the nerves in her face complained about the sudden impact.

"Okay..." Ishiar continued, working her jaw and massaging her swollen cheek with her tongue, "Um...how do you spell that?"

There was a cracking sound as the succubus' hand struck her other cheek. This time it was so hard that Ishiar staggered sideways slightly. The succubus, apparently not satisfied with smacking her around, siezed the manacle around Ishiar's neck and pulled her close. Her fanged mouth yawned open around Ishiar's face and a low, almost bestial belch erupted from deep within. A foul, cloying stench more or less barged it's way into Ishiar's nostrils.

"That," the demoness said after a moment, her voice hard and commanding, "is where you will go if you anger me. I will devour you and my stomach acids will tear you apart. Do not speak unless you are spoken to."

Being swallowed and "torn apart" was seeming like less and less of a threat lately, but Ishiar thought better of mentioning that. Besides, the succubus was already pulling her down the street again.

Even so, Ishiar couldn't help but think about it as she walked. The demoness' backside rippled every time she walked, the taut muscles beneath creating indescribable shapes in her skin with each motion. She couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to be inside those firm buttocks...

Whoa, She thought. That's not healthy. Not healthy at ALL. Bad brain! Bad!

She did her best to contain her curiousity about the demon's curvaceous thighs as they continued to walk.

It had started to dawn on her. They had a term for this; this strange attraction to being eaten. They called it Pervertia's Madness.

The tale went that there were once two goddess sisters, Pervertia and Yttme. Both were small goddesses, cheerful and friendly, but too meek to defend themselves against the depradations of the other, more aggressive goddesses. Though they were immortal, this proved to be their undoing as time and time again they were devoured and digested alive, only to reform and be preyed upon once more. Slowly, as more and more of their essences were absorbed by the hungry bellies of their tormentors, their sanity began to unravel.

Time had long since lost their original goddess roles--all anyone knew Yttme as now was the Goddess of Victims. She was wily, clever, perceptive, and unbelievably paranoid, but in the end she always ended up a meal for another goddess. People prayed to her for enhanced senses, for the ability to evade their foes, or at least to give them the courage to die well, for all were under Yttme's purview.

Her twin sister, Pervertia, went down an entirely different road. Where Yttme tried harder and harder to avoid becoming a meal until she became obsessed with it, Pervertia's mind unravelled in an entirely different way. The story told that she went so mad that she started to enjoy being eaten. This affected her so badly that as time went on she literally became addicted to it. She would force herself down the throats of the other goddesses, contorting and writhing inside their bellies as her body was taken apart piece by piece.

It had been said that some mortals had been afflicted by this same madness. Pervertia's Madness; the irrational desire to be eaten.

But...it had happened so naturally. She didn't feel insane. In fact, her mind seemed as clear as it ever was.

Was Ushan right? Did everyone secretly want to be eaten?

Ishiar's thoughts were cut short as she and her captor approached a small palace. It was the size of a large house, maybe three stories tall, but was emmaculately carved from some sort of obsidian. Images of demonesses and runes were etched into it's surface, and all the edges were trimmed with gold. Small rubies were inset into the double doors that led within.

"This is my home," the demoness said. "But you may not use the front door. You must use the slave's entrance."

Pulling on the chain again, she led Ishiar around to the back. There was a small set of stairs dug into the earth behind the house, leading to a simple, ugly basement door. The demoness pushed it open and led Ishiar into the room beyond. It was sparse and equally ugly. Unlike the silky-smooth walls above, this room appeared to be roughly hewn out of the earth beneath the house, giving the walls a coarse, red surface. The only light came from a torch held by a large iron brassiere on the cieling. It cast harsh, bar-like shadows on the walls which shifted slightly as the brassiere swung in place. The walls were unadorned except for several sets of manacles. There was a large wooden table in the center of the room and a few random items in the corners--a water jug, a rough blanket, and a conspicuously large dildo. Along one wall was a shoddy wooden bookcase containing a few worn-looking books. On the wall opposite the entrance, there was a lacquered black door leading further into the house, accented with gold etchings and looking quite out of place, considering the dilapidated state of the rest of the room.

"These are your quarters, slave," the Demoness said. "You may not leave without permission. If you attempt to leave, you will be punished. You may not use magic of any kind. If you use magic, you will be punished. The things currently in this room are yours. They are the only possessions you may keep. Everything else you obtain belongs to me."

The demoness walked over to a large metal clamp on the wall and fastened the end of Ishiar's chain securely to it. It was just long enough to let her move around the room, but she wouldn't be able to get far out the door.

"Your old life has ended," the demoness continued. "You are now my property to do with as I wish. You are no longer a person. Do you understand? Say yes."

"Yes," Ishiar said distractedly, not meaning it in the least.

"Good. As a reward, you may entertain yourself with the books in the bookcase, along with this," she said, holding up the dildo. "Do not tire yourself, for you will need your energy to perform your duties."

"What duties?" Ishiar said.

The demoness glared at her.

"Sorry," Ishiar said sheepishly.

"Sorry WHAT?" the demoness snapped.

"Sorry, um, mistress?"

"That is better. My name is Lady Belaphonne. You will refer to me as Mistress Belaphonne, or simply Mistress. Do you understand?"

"Sure."

A question occurred to her. Not sure what else to do, she raised her hand.

"You have something to say, slave?"

"Yeah. What do I do if I need to say something?"

"You bite your tongue. You are not permitted to speak unless you are asked a question. If there is something you need to communicate," the Demoness walked over to the bookcase and withdrew a pad of paper, "you will write it on this and wait for me to read it. Do not interrupt me with your messages; I will read them when I deem it appropriate. And do not write in the common tongue--the sight of your language offends me. You will write only in demonic. Since you are an ignorant slave, I have provided a manual of demonic words here," she said, indicating one of the books on the top shelf. "Do you understand? Write your answer."

Ishiar took the pad of paper and the book. The first few pages were very simple phrases; "Yes," "No," "May I use the bathroom, mistress," "I am hungry, mistress," and so forth. She did her best to copy the word underneath "Yes." The demonic letters looked like briars and thorny snakes, but she did her best.

Looking over the slip of paper, mistress Belaphonne wrinkled her nose. "Your penmanship is atrocious, but this will do. I have business to attend to now. I will be back soon to feed you and to explain your duties. You may entertain yourself however you see fit until then."

With that, she walked through the outer door and it swung shut. Ishiar heard the sound of a heavy lock being set on it before the footsteps of the demoness ascended the stone stairway.

And just like that, Ishiar was alone.

In a demoness' basement.

In Faneglut.

Escape was probably the first order of business. She wasn't sure what she would do once she got out, but it would be better than hanging around here.

The first problem was the set of manacles. Her hands were still bound fairly close together and she was chained to the wall. She gave the chain a tug, then a hard pull, then she braced her foot against the wall and yanked for all she was worth. The clasp didn't even bend.

She suddenly wished she hadn't made fun of the rogues so much--they, at least, knew how to pick locks. If she had learned that she may not be in this position.

Deciding that breaking her bonds with her hands wasn't a realistic option, she looked around the room for some sort of tool, or something she could take advantage of. Unfortunately, a big rubber dildo is not a terribly effective demolitions tool, nor is a splintered old bookcase full of porno useful for picking locks.

While the demoness' threat of "if you use magic you'll be punished" seemed pretty hollow at the moment, the fact was that Ishiar didn't know any anyway. She was an amazon at heart--she had never bothered trying any magic more complicated than a light spell she tried once. Even that had almost given her a headache.

But, she didn't have a lot of other alternatives. Taking a deep breath, she placed her hand on the wall clasp and concentrated. She envisioned her energy lashing out, filling the iron clasp and causing it to shatter.

Energy did lash out, but it wasn't hers. She felt a sudden spike of pain as she was knocked to the floor, dazed and confused. A haze of light seemed burned into the edges of her vision, and from the smoky smell, she could tell something had just tried to fry her.

Almost immediately, the door to her quarters burst open. Belaphonne stormed in, her eyes blazing with anger.

"I can see I am going to have to break you, slave."

Ishiar reflexively opened her mouth to protest but never got the chance--everything was already going black.