The Demon's Dance in the House of the Goddess by Slash Freezen (Patreon)

Monette woke up with a smile on her face. The night before had been wonderful. Warm bodies, thick cocks, and hot semen. It’d been a wild night. Looking up at the statue of the goddess above her, she grinned and thanked the enigmatic entity for bearing witness, for if the Goddess Angea did watch over them all, then the curvaceous succubus was happy to put on a show.

It hadn’t been the first time she’d had a wild orgy inside of a church.

“Not the second, or third...” she mused, thinking back to her first encounter with the faith.

It’d been nearly two years since she’d Crossed the Forbidding with the help of those fool witches and started her new life in the mundane lands. At first, she’d thought herself a seductive conqueror; planning to enthrall and dominate all she could. Unlike most of her kind, subtlety was not the succubus’ natural forte. Monette was big, bold, and brash. She’d tried to take as much as she could as fast as she could, damn the consequences. The excitement was all the motivation she needed. And it was exciting for her. The seduction, the taking, the dominating, and even the fall.

“Particularly the fall...” she snickered thinking back to the last time.

None of her current crop of lovers could hold a candle to that moment. A mere kinling, a mundane, had taken up the challenge and beaten her at her own game. Even now it was hard to imagine that she, a succubus and Heir to the Nine, had lost. For all her tricks and skills could not enthrall the young hero who sought to end her reign before it’d even begun. A fascinating kin who had chosen to lay with her when he had the power to slay her out right.

“My master,you are a curious one...” she sighed, lifting herself from the ground.

She had not met many who would wield his kind of power magnanimously. Especially back in the Elderlands. Not even the so-called ‘paragons’ of the Eternian’s were quite so judicious with their strength. She’d learned that kin with power were mostly arrogant fools and despots, destined to have it taken from them by those with the right tools to do so.

This last she thought with a playful heft of her breast.

That man had defeated her at her own game, and then showed her mercy. He could have ended her or even banished her back beyond the veil to the Elderlands where she belonged. Instead he offered her the chance to make use of her abilities for the supposed good of the realm.

It was a freedom of sorts. She would be allowed to stay and enjoy the buffet of different quintessence among the mundane, in a controlled fashion, in exchange for her oath of service to the man’s Order; the Raven Knights. It was an easy choice to make if only to stave off centuries of boredom back home.

“Besides...” she smiled to herself looking at the bodies of the previous night's victims.

“The job has its perks”

Though she called him Master, Adolyn Valenrow refused to accept his title. He had defeated her fairly and spared her life. Monette had submitted to his authority and trusted him when he’d promised she would not be harmed. He’d kept that promise and gave her more. A home, a purpose, and the ability to walk the lands of the mundane more or less free.

Sure, he held her leash and could command anything of her if he so chose, but she didn’t mind. In fact, she often lamented his unwillingness to abuse his authority over her. She was not only bound by her word and the time honored tradition of being unable to defeat him, but also by magic. Anything he asked, anything at all; if it was ordered she would have to comply.

Sadly, Primus Adolyn rarely ever ordered her to do anything. Not even her duty. He simply asked and she was always given a choice to refuse.

“How disappointing...” she thought with a smile.

She’d have much prefer if the man was a bit more stern or abusive. Perhaps even a bit lecherous. She found dominating and being dominated by others to be absolutely arousing, and had hoped for a lot more depravity in a man with such authority.

“Oh well,” she lamented. She would have to teach him how to properly command his thralls. For a man who seemed to collect admirers willing to devote themselves to his every whim, the young lord was depressingly judicious in his carnality. It was her pleasure to help break her master of such useless morality. He’d need to learn to be more commanding if he wished to wield a weapon as powerful as she.

“Oh, I will teach him and he will learn well.” She promised. And she meant it. Afterall, there was no sense resting the title of Master from one who did not wish to have it in the first place.

For now she was content to do as he requested.The elderian had been asked to use her polymorphic abilities to infiltrate the Basilica in Mitandi, in the Central Dominance; in a small hamlet called Njoku.

Monette hadn’t often spent time in the Central Dominance, though she’d always liked visiting. The kin of central Lioncourt, especially the hyenas seemed a bit more lively and wild. Less constrained by the social trappings of society. Mostly farmland, there were few nobles and even fewer lords to impose the wider constraints of polite societies, misguided rules and trappings there in booneys. There also seemed to be less oversight from authority of any kind. It was a breeding ground for organized villany and criminals smart enough to avoid the notice of the crown. As long as the breadbasket kept reliably feeding the Kingdom, no one much cared about the day to day lives of the commonkin living in the sticks.

That was of course the kind of oversight that led to her mission. The Church of the Goddess had sent a request through their Ministrata within the Order for aid. Apparently the power of prayer had not been enough to protect their people in the House of the Goddess.

Monette hadn’t really cared about the details, but traded listening to the full brief of this situation for a night's feeding with her master. Though he’d often decline such an invitation, the seriousness of that situation gained her the opportunity she’d need to test a few more techniques on him. She knew the binding she was under wouldn’t allow her to enthrall the man, but she liked fraying the edges of the spell. Seeing where she could poke and prod. It’d been another failure as before, but she hadn’t been disappointed. The sex was always good. The Primus was a reluctant lover.

Naked and slightly intoxicated by the intense euphoria of consuming the unique quintessence the man held within, the cubi listened lazily as Adolyn explained that the Church had been taken over by mercenaries. No one knew what they were up to, besides raiding the Church’s coffers and whoring out the sisters. It was feared they had a mighty spell caster on their side to bend so many to their will.

The Basilica in Njoku was large, with a large number of attendants. The Church feared if they acted to root out the problem it would be quite the scandal. Their attempt at clandestine investigation had been thwarted and none of their agents had returned after infiltrating the group. Since the enemy was obviously a band of ‘Awoken’, the Priests hoped the Order could handle their problem... quietly.

Monette had no interest in the plight of a bunch of high stepping holy rollers, but she jumped at the chance to go on a mission barely supervised.

Adolyn wanted her to use her polymorphic abilities to infiltrate the Basilica as a nun. She would pretend to be a travelling sister, seeking respite on her journey south to Merlion. Once inside she would use her other abilities to gain information and assess the situation.

“And simply report back?” she remembered asking, a bit bored.

“That is the plan, for now.” he shrugged, assuring her that a ranger team would be nearby should she need the help. She had sighed and patted over the bed, taking his cock in hand. He flinched as she played with it.

“And if the situation requires immediate action?” she had smiled, expecting him to be a bit squeamish; but he surprised her.

Adolyn’s blue grey eyes went cold as he stared down at her, firm in his conviction.

“Handle it as you see fit.” he stated simply.

Monette almost hadn’t managed to fully give him her mischievous smile before he amended;

“You know what we’re about. Saving lives is our priority. Information is a secondary objective...”

With a sigh he leaned forward, moving his manhood out of her grasp but taking her by the chin.

“But if you see a way to bring this to a ‘reasonable’ conclusion... act with all due discretion.” he ordered. She had been happy to hear it. She leaned up and licked him across the neck with her long tongue and got a jolt of satisfaction when he quivered to her reply of;

“As you wish, Master.”

It hadn’t take her long to formulate a plan of her own to accomplish her task. She’d knew just what form she would take to entice her prey. There were many Ministrata within the Order. Little ‘Light Lickers’ whose devotion to their goddess sat well next to their oaths to the Order. She could have imitated any one of them.

There was June, the busty cow. She would certainly entice a bunch of cutthroats looking to take advantage. Tall, curvacious and with breasts that rivaled the likes of Master at Arm’s Megogo Asherah, the woman was the very picture of femininity. Monette had long desired her, but the Ministrata had all been vehemently against lying with a ‘beast’.

There was Andreas, the young leopard. He was pretty as a lass and reeked of insecurity and diffidence, despite his rather impressive arete. The boy had a deep spirit well, rich with dense quintessence; but he walked, talked, and acted with such meekness that it was often a struggle not to attack him in the halls. He just screamed ‘prey’. Even if the mercenaries consider themselves straight, she doubted even without her charms and abilities, they’d be able to keep themselves from ravishing one such as he. But no. No, Monette knew instantly what form she would take for this mission.

The lilin creature smiled as she looked down at her short, petite body, with it’s modest breasts and simple curves. She almost looked like a child. Though she knew the real thing looked much less developed than her current form. Apparently her vanity would not allow her to exactly imitate anyone.

The Ministrata in question, the dainty and adorable Mallory Cautenberry, was exactly what she needed. Barely an adult, the little lamb had the wide eyed look of prey, but with the sassy sweetness of a girl who could be made to enjoy the taking. The kind of ladykin you lusted after, but hated yourself for it. She had the look over everyones delightful kid sister. Pretty and sweet, just waiting for the real world to toss her down and defile her. In that cute habit and coif, what kin of little character could resist.

They hadn’t resisted. Not at all. For the last week Monette had focused all her powers on maintaining her borrowed form as the brutes ravished her. They hadn’t even tried pretending to be anything but what they were. It took every bit of her self-control not to lose her composure and give in to the thrilling pleasure on the first day. The depravity was exquisite and she’d wanted desperately to feed... but she had a mission to complete.

She’d spent her time between being used like a cock sleeve and forced to ingest ineffective mind altering drugs, pretending to wander around in a stupor and figure out what the hell was going on. She’d latched on to whom she assumed was the second in command and followed the Hyena around when she feigned moments of lucidity.

Like most wretched scum, he’d pretended to be one of the good ones. Promising to protect her if she’d obeyed. She acted as he expected and resisted a bit at first, but after being raped repeatedly by some of the more brutal of their cadre, the succubus pretended to break; throwing herself at his mercys. By day five he’d only shared her with his closest friends and she rarely left his side. It was an excellent position to gain intel.

Looking down, she wondered if he was dead. She could still feel the semen of his friends and he matted in her fur and trickling down her leg. He hadn’t shown her a bad time, though that hadn’t been his intention. He’d been rough and commanding, but didn’t really have the equipment or skills to satisfy.

He was the second to a disgraced lordling named Samir Kemp. He and the others had been hired by Kemp’s father, Exton Kemp, a minor landed noble, to train their awoken son in the arcane artes of a Rune Knight. The hyena had not been talented enough to gain admission into the Librarium through assessment, but showed promise in his martial skills and his ability to channel and manipulate æthereal energy.

The cheetah lying beneath her, Okeyo, was the unscrupulous Rune Knight hired by Lord Kemp to train his son. From what she gleaned the cheetah had been a sellsword his entire life. A bastard of a kinling, he’d definitely done more cut-throating than proper mercenary work, and had formed his company of like minded washouts from all over the Dominance.

While pleasuring the drunk cheetah, Okeyo let out that Samir hated the Church of the Goddess and blamed them for all his misfortunes. Kemp had been running a brothel out of his fathers lands, using his meager wealth and influence to collect young ladykin with nowhere to turn, and who weren’t quite ready to fall upon the Church’s mercy.

He would recruit them from meal lines and shelters run by the Nuns, enticing them with a chance at a better life. Instead the bastard got them hooked on ‘Phantom Dust’ and other narcotics, using them as prostitutes in mules for his wider schemes for power and riches. Of course the Church found out and he was punished. His pious father disinherited the hyena and banished the servants who helped facilitate his wayward son’s criminal enterprise.

From there the story got predictable. Okeyo had a brilliant plan to buy their way out of time on the chain gang and he and his other cutthroats decided to restart their business ventures further south where there was less scrutiny. Since the Church had been so meddlesome in the past, they would neutralize it first, killing those who resisted and subjugating those they could. Doped out their minds on Phantom Dust and under the effects of what seemed to be some apocatheries attempt at Venusian Nectar, the group had taken control of the Basilica.

The Priestess and Nuns who weren’t about their business, in the backs getting slammed for all their worth, we coerced into helping keep up appearances. It was an adorable plan, but unoriginal. Her own conquest of the simple minded faithful had taken half a city before anyone noticed. These kin had to be rank amateurs, and their occasional acts of brutality and debauchery called way too much attention to them by the locals. They had to know it was only a matter of time before someone investigated.

As Okeyo’s plaything, Monette had been able to see everything within the facility. She’d located the nuns, the clients, and the large kitchen that had been converted into an apothecary for the manufacturing of the drugs.

It was quite the enterprise and she would relish shutting it down, if only because she had not had the pleasure of the company of such vile kin in quite a while. No matter what she did to these mundane, she was certain the binding would not find her guilty of breaking her oath. She decided to test that theory with the previous night's orgy. If it let her drain those fools to her heart's content, she knew there would be no hindrance to what she’d planned next

“Time to be a good little hero,” she laughed gleefully.

Running her hands down her hair and over her face, the succubus began to change. The short, wavy hair of Mallory Catenburry flowed down and out, changing shade to a deep green. Though she could mostly imitate anyone, she could not properly get certain tones right without the essence. No one seemed to care that Mallory was a blonde and her hair had been mint green. Nor did they mind the darker fur, that was now losing its freckles and turning darker still. Back to the chocolate brown of her original coloring.

She stood up on thick hooves and her face changed from the features of small ewe to something whole different. Something salacious and alluring, but still unique. She grow back her bulbous, pink, button nose. Her eyes took their catty shape, with its intense orange irises. Her horns curled up and pointed backwards, regaining their dark luster as she glowed with an eerie purple light.

Behind her, her large, thick bat-like wings spread wide as her tail grew, reaching out to the floor and swishing about.

“Mmmm... back into something more comfortable!” she moaned, running her hands over her now thick and curvaceous form. A hand tracing down her breasts as her outfit grew out of nothingness to clothe her.

“What... What are you?” asked a weak voice from beneath her.

Monette smiled seductively as she turned her attention down to Okeyo; apparently not dead after all.

“I am a manifestation of all your sins...”: she cooed teasing. Leaning forward she gripped him by the neck, long nails digging into the cheetah and drawing blood.

“Unfortunately for you, you’ve outgrown your usefulness.”

With that she squeezed hard, wracking her claws across his throat. Leaving a shredded mess in her wake. Blood dripped from her claws as she ran her long tongue down her fingers.

“Not the fluid I prefer, but there is power in all that you are...” she informed the kin as he thrashed about, choking on his own blood.

The succubus’ eyes glowed as she focused all her ill-gotten power from the night before. She could feel the power coursing through her and it was fantastic. With the flick of her wrist she focused upon the core of her soul and drew upon the æthereal energy she found there.

“Eviscerating Pulse...” she invoked in her demon tongue.

Instantly a purple ball of energy formed in her hand, pulsing wildly with ætheric might. Monette simply flicked the orb back into the pile of bodies and walked a way as the ripping currents of energy tore her victims apart. The time for fun had ended. Now she would bring this dirty business to its conclusion. A reasonable conclusion as promised.

It didn’t take much time for the other cut throats to figure out something was amiss. The screams in the halls. The sounds of bodies being torn apart or tossed into walls. Monette fairly bathed in the blood of her enemies; though none of their filth could touch her.

Using her polymorphic abilities, she transformed her wings into an arsenal of fleshy weapons; piercing flesh and ripping her foes asunder. With all she had drawn from the fools who thought to conquer her the previous night, it was barely even a challenge.

They came for her, one and all. Mundane swordsman, rune knights, and even a mage or two. None were even half as talented as any Raven she’d ever met. Washouts and low-lives whose success had been due more to anonymity than ability.

Monette delighted in torturing the few kin she remembered had been particularly brutal or nasty to the girls. One kin had shoved something rather unpleasant inside of her during an early ‘breaking’ session. She’d had to feign healing herself so that no one got suspicious. She made sure that one got something less loving that dildo up both ends. Nothing says payback like a pike up the bum.

Eventually the cubi murdered her way to the Priest's chambers where the would-be Kingpin was there, held up with a few hostages. He’d heard the commotion and believed it to be a raid. Calmly, Monette touched the familiar foreign energy, quickly being burned up by her increased use of mana. Though she’d fed upon many, she thought a particular person would be best to gain entrance.

“It’s soldiers, sir, though their tabards bare a crest I do not recognize.” she called out, in a perfect imitation of Okeyo’s voice.

Samir could be heard wrestling with his captives inside. A large slap could be heard as he tried to get control of one of the sisters begging for her latest fix and offering him anything he might desire. Another, an older woman by the sound of her, had probably been too long without the drug’s effects. She switched between rebuking the hyena and praying to her Goddess for the light of Salvation. Monette found the scene amusing.

“Open the door slowly, Okeyo, let me see you!” the hyena called cautiously.

Monette replied calmly, assuring him she would do so.

When she opened the door a powerful odor hit her nostrils. A quick glance around found that there were several bodies unmoving on the ground. Two nuns and a city girl, both looking very dead. Most likely overdosed on the drug.

Another common kin, a little sand cat coward in the corner, shaking with fright. There were two others, a fennec nun and a lemur whose large eyes seemed glazed over as she quietly absently touched herself; but the most intriguing of Kemp’s captives was the nun.

There, half naked in her habit, she stared daggers at the hyena. She hadn’t even noticed her. Whatever was in the drugs that helped subdue the ability to focus enough to manipulate mana was obviously wearing off. The addax' eyes were aglow with arcane light as a mana ring pulsed around her pupil.

The cubi smiled devilishly and winked at the sister as she turned, noticing her for the first time. Though the woman was not able to see through Monette's deception, for her shapeshifting was polymorphic, not illusionary, the Nun’s ‘Kirlian Eye’ would certainly see the flare in Monette's aura as she maintained the deception. She wouldn’t be able to tell what was going on, but she’d know something was amiss.

“It’s time for you to go,” she began, reaching for Kemp.

“Take my hand, I’ll get you where you need to go.” She promised as if she was offering him protection.

The disgraced lordling looked at the offered hand and then back at her. He looked anxious and nervous. Twitching and looking around. At first she thought maybe he sensed something was wrong, but the ash under his eyes told her that he was getting high on his own supply. Maybe not the Phantom Dust, but he was doped up on something

“Boy?” she asked, extending further. Her face was hardly able to mask the sheer delight she was feeling. Witless to the danger, Kemp took her hand and she pulled the hyena to her.

“You won’t be needing this.” Monette whispered, running her nose against his neck and brushing her lips against his neck. The lordling was aghast as she shamelessly flirted, while relieving him of his weapon.

“What is this, man?! Are you bent? There’s no time for this!” he cried.

“Interesting, a straight man would have protested my closeness. I guess there’s more about your relationship with Okeyo than I knew.” Monette shrugged, continuing to fondle Kemp. He was so shocked by her word, he hardly noticed her voice working it’s way back to normal.

“I’ll enjoy learning all your secrets...” she grinned, giving the nun devious look.

Then like flexing a muscle, she let go of her deception and her body returned to its former glory.

“I plan to wring every bit of information I can out of you...” she promised. She then turned her attention to the others in the room.

“You all just stay there and watch...” she cooed.

“I really love an audience.”

In the end Monette did just as she promised. She’d worked the lordling for everything he was worth. Putting the young man through every depraved act and humiliation she’d seen visited upon others. Drunk off her nectar and unable to resist her succubus charms; he’d begged for her to continue as she enjoyed him on into the afternoon.

By the time she’d finished she was sure she’d left an impression on the sister and gotten all she needed to help the rangers track down Kemp’s agents and associates. They’d need to cut out all the weeds to avoid the infestation growing.

“You’re a demon!” she remembered the ungrateful nun admonishing, as the cubi ended her ‘interrogation’. She’d laughed, reminding the addax that the Goddess’ way was meandering, and that she’d prayed for salvation.

“Salvation never looked this good...” she remembered teasing. Monette did have half a mind to sample the delicious flavors of the mature nun and her companions, but the slight tingle of ætheric energy within her as the bonds of her oath keeper spell rose up her spine, she knew she wouldn’t get away with that. Instead, she simply took her prisoner and left them there, someone else could clean up the mess.

Days later, back in her tower, she gleefully gave every bloody detail of her report to the Primus and his Adjutant, Sarissa Elidathis. A gorgeous Harimali rabbit, who though small for the breed, was no less beautiful and powerful as the legends suggested. If there had been anyone other than that damned Sorceress that was able to send a shiver down Monette’s spine, it was her. Her youthful mannerism, affability, and sheer cuteness did little hide her true self from a predator like Monette. She knew the Mother of Courtian Rangers was more like her than she was the handsome hero she stood next to. An ancient predator, one who had likely taken more lives in her centuries than any one cubi in history. She excited Monette and knew it.

Her knowing smile was enough to make the succubus swoon.

“Brought him back alive, did you? Not the decision I’d have made, but a good one nonetheless.” She praised Monette. There wasn’t a hint of cunning in her voice. It was a genuine compliment and Elderian were uniquely gratified to have it.

“See, this Raven’s work isn’t so difficult.” Monette thought to herself, in congratulations. In no time she would be earning trust and lowering guards. Then things would get fun.

Though she tried not to show it outwardly, Monette had been especially proud of herself for not killing the little lordling outright. Others would want to speak to him. The aristocracy would want their say and such a man deserved to meet her acquaintance in the bowels of Castle Ravenclaw, for some real torture. An execution was too good for such a clumsy attempt at domination, besides, she’d certainly saved her master a bit of paper work.

“The kid’s crew was nothing but witless upstarts, and he was just a spoiled brat with delusions of grandeur!” she reported.

“Wasn’t much ado about anything...”

Her master would sigh and hand the scroll to the beautiful grey bunny next to him.

“Aside from the lives irrevocably altered, the mistrust sewn in the church and against practitioners of the arcane you mean?” He asked nonchalantly. Monette giggled obliviously.

“Yes, aside from that.”

Adolyn was a little agitated that the Church had accused her of intentionally traumatising the survivors. They’d lobbied complaints, especially when they found out that she was in fact a ‘Lilin Monster’. Monette didn’t think it’d be a big deal. The episcopal polity rather liked the Primus and they enjoyed sending him Ministrata who were a little too adventurous to represent the Church among the noble houses. Sure, there was the small matter of the many dead bodies left around the Basilica in macabre poses, but she figured if those prayer pushers wanted everything clean and tidy, they’d have handled it themselves. They could hum their last rites, cry ‘Blessed Be the Goddess’, and go fuck themselves for all she cared. If her master had to pull up his big boy pants and shout down a bunch of clucking hens, then all the better.

“We’ve got to talk about our differences in opinions on what constitutes a ‘reasonable’ conclusion” he sighed, trying to hold back his mirth. Her lack of concern was painfully obvious, and he could get himself worked up to admonish her for it. He tended to agree with her sentiment about ‘those clucking hens’.

“A little messy, but some folks are better off dead,” he admitted.

Clapping the cubi could hardly keep herself from cheering aloud. Though he tried to hide it, she could see the kernel of darkness within the man. He may be a great deal more sensible when doling out death; but she knew before her stood no saint. She’d seen the look of grim detachment and utter conviction in his eyes when he’d had to kill in the past. He never dithered. He never hesitated. When the decision was made he was all business, and the darkness he unleashed served to moisten her down to her loins.

“Perhaps we can share the next slaughter together, master. Have a wild romp in the blood of our slain enemies.” She teased. She didn’t know what part of her remark had made him shiver, but he didn’t stop smiling.

“You might just get your chance.” chimed the lovely bunny next to him as she handed him a different scroll.

“Seems that lordling has a silent partner out in the Disputed Lands. One of your kin I think we may need to pay a visit. You game for a trip out east?” Sarissa asked coyly.

Monette took the offered scroll with a gleam in her eye. Looking it over quickly to see what was so interesting. When her eyes landed on the sketch of the rumored assailant, they went wide with shock and anticipation.

“Is this accurate?” she asked, hoping against hope for it to be true. Sarissa grinned back at her, sitting down on the table.

“Seems so... you cubi seem to get around.” She shrugged.

“I take it, you recognize this one?” Sarissa asked. Smirking Monette looked up from the parchment with a gleam in her eye.

“Indeed... when do we leave?” was all she would reply.