Ok, this is the story I mentioned earlier. It's a bit easier to understand if you've read the first one, but not completely necessary.
The man did not smile. His scarred face showed only malice and a knowing look. She felt a twinge of fear as he approached. "So," he said, "you have been lying to me."
"I assure you that I have done no such-" A sharp blow to her head came out of nowhere. And now the man was smiling.
"Then my friend is a liar? My dear friend has lied to me? He had some... interesting things to say about you. How you were so compliant, for instance. How you didn't mention me, your lover." The sarcasm on his last word was so thick one could almost touch it. The scarred man knew she was only a toy, a thing to provide physical pleasure if he so willed it. And she did not resist, allowing him to use her as such. And he was not the only one; others, perhaps even his friend, took her to bed and discarded her after. She wished that one, just one of them, would hold her and stay with her. Even if it was only for a few moments. But many reacted badly to such a request. It still sent a wave of pain through her body to think of the rage on that last man's face and how he threw her to the ground and then... Some things were better left unsaid.
"He said you were very skilled. Have you been holding back on me?" Another smile, a smile that made her try to get up, to flee, but he grabbed her arm and whispered "Don't you want to show me?"
His hands reached for her. Fear paralyzed her and her muscles tensed. This only seemed to futher excite him, however, and he murmured "This should be interesting- I do love it if they put up a fight." She couldn't breathe, couldn't yell, could only lie there and wait as his actions futher mocked his earlier words.
It seemed like hours before he released his grip on her. "And he said you didn't even ask his name- you've never asked me that either. What's wrong, a demon such as yourself can't bother with names?" And he attacked, his fists slamming into her body again and again.
Then it was over. He looked at her, covering her face with her arms, and laughed. "Maybe next time you'll behave." And he was gone.
She struggled to her feet and checked out what damage had been done. Most of her bruises were on her back and legs, with some uncomfortably close to her wings. Her gown would cover those, although a few on her arms would be visable. No trouble there; she'd blame them on a natural accident. No trouble.
She crawled into her bed slowly; she still felt sore. The succubus cried herself quietly to sleep, tears shed for the lies she told and lived, for the shame of what she did. That it was in fact done to her never occured to Grace, and likely never would.
Once again, I felt names took something away from this, and I still have no clue where this came from. But I had to answer some things in my other story- although how I came up with this is beyond me.
Feel free to say it sucks.
