Throughout the day, he found himself giddy with anticipation, but managed to stay away from the basement; if the wait felt long to him, it would be unbearable for the unrepentant demoness.
Therefore, it was only when the sky outside the windows darkened that he set down the book he was skimming listlessly and went to check up on her.
Upon entering the basement, he halted and drank in the sight before slowly continuing down the stairs. Fia's tan skin glistened with sweat, and the fringe of her crimson hair was matted to her forehead.
At his approach, she rose to her tiptoes, her legs trembling, but only remained in this position for a couple of seconds before slumping atop the rope and biting her lip to muffle a moan.
The glower she directed at him was hardly threatening. Her cheeks were flushed and her lower lip puffy. Hours of feathery caresses left her nipples puckered and her tail fluttering feebly.
His eyes widened when he noticed her panties had darkened at the bottom; she was positively soaked. Were it not for the wards making that impossible, he would've suspected her of soiling herself.
He walked up to her, breathing in the faint scent of her arousal. She didn't attempt to stand anymore, dangling limply from the manacles.
He grinned. "How's it hanging?"
"I hate you so much." Her glare could have melted glaciers, but her voice was unsteady.
"Do you now?" He glanced down at the rope burrowing into her wet crotch and tugged on it. Whining, she backpedaled and arched her feet to stand higher. "From the looks of it, you rather enjoyed yourself."
"W-who would... something like... sick pervert."
"You didn't like it?" he asked with mock surprise. "I suppose you'll be wanting me to let you down, then." He waited for a beat. "Well?"
Her ragged breathing was the only sound before she mumbled.
"I can't hear you." He yanked on the rope.
"Yes!" she cried, staring at him with misty eyes.
"There we go. That wasn't so hard, was it? There's just one thing I need you to do first." He met her eyes; her slit pupils were dilated, nearly rounded. "Look at yourself."
She glowered before grudgingly ducking her head.
"You drenched your panties with your nasty cunt juice. Hell, even the rope. Care to explain why?"
She turned away, her rosy cheeks burning brighter.
"Silence, huh. Just so you know, I'm considering leaving you like this overnight." He saw her shoulders tense. "But it's not really torture if you're enjoying it this much, is it?" He leaned in to whisper into her ear. "Admit it—you're the sick one here, getting off on being dominated by a human."
She whirled on him, but the sudden motion made the rope dig into her flesh, and a whimper escaped her throat. He stared her down, daring her to talk back. She averted her gaze. Smirking, he shooed the feathers away, untied the rope, and unclasped the manacles. Moaning in relief, Fia collapsed to her knees.
"Back to your cot," he ordered.
Her legs quivered as she struggled to stand, and after watching for several seconds, he deemed it wasn't pretense. Sighing, he gathered her up in his arms, and ignoring her startled protest, carried her to the corner.
Her skin was hot to the touch, as if feverish, but he knew from his studies that was just the way demons were.
He put her down on the cot. She plopped down in a W-shape and reclined against the wall, quivering slightly, her red hair falling to her breasts. Sensing his gaze, she clapped her hands over her chest and pressed her legs together. Seeing her act so meek was more gratifying than her nudity.
"Take off your knickers." She scooted back, and he rolled his eyes. "You can sleep in those, or I could get my elf to wash them for you. Whichever you prefer."
She stared at him for a long moment. "Turn away."
He smirked. "Ordering me around, now?"
She glowered, then pulled the blanket over herself and stuck her hands underneath. He watched her wriggle awkwardly with a growing grin.
"Done? My elf will pick them up and bring them back come tomorrow."
"At least give me something to wear in the meantime," she said, clutching the blanket to her chest. "Oh, excuse me—I forgot you were a voyeuristic degenerate."
He shook his head in exasperation. "I don't have any women's knickers around. If you're cooperative, I might get Melly to pick some up for you. Now, one more thing... hands behind your back."
He summoned the manacles, and Fia curled into a ball, her eyes fearful. Snorting, he wrestled her hands behind her back—she was weakened, shaky—and clasped on the manacles, reducing the length of the chain between her wrists so they were almost fastened together. Lastly, he grasped the edge of the fallen blanket and threw it over her naked body.
She stared as if disbelieving that was all he would do before tugging at her manacles. "What happened to letting me sleep?"
"Oh, but I am," he said with a grin. "I fear if I free your hands, you're going to spend all night touching yourself and not rest properly for what's coming tomorrow."
Her mouth formed an O. "You're delusional!"
"I don't know," he drawled, looking down pointedly. Fia sputtered when she followed his gaze to the bundle of wet pink fabric that had been revealed from under the blanket. "Considering you're someone who gets off on being humiliated by an enemy, I can't be too careful."
For once, she didn't hurl insults at him as he left. His lips stretched into a grin. He had been worried she would sniff out the lust potion he had laced the water with, and thus only used a couple of drops, but even then, it was clearly having an effect. Either that, or she was every bit the pervert she had accused him of being.
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