“Mercy, God-King,” blubbered the man. “I am your most devoted servant. Please.” His eyes looked up at me. “Intercede for me, Divine God-Queen.”
“Milly,” I purred. “Cut his tongue out as well. He has no more need of it.”
Brandon laughed as we strolled through the ovens. The man howled behind us as Milly’s lead pipe landed with meaty thunks. The man’s screams were sweet in my ears. Around us, our soldiers formed up and our concubines trailed behind, draped half-naked in silks.
“I think I know who this man is,” I whispered as we walked. Through the chains, I could dimly feel our servants about us. It was faint, but I could recognizing the ones in pain. The ones being butchered ahead.
“Who is he?” Brandon asked.
“The Samurai,” I smiled. “I once thought I would contend with him for Japan. He is a noble man. A follower of Bushido. A true samurai.”
Brandon gave me a blank look.
“The word samurai comes from saburau. To serve.” I smiled. “Samurai’s serve someone more powerful. This one thought to restore the Emperor and rule as his Shogun. If you can prove yourself stronger, you may win his loyalty. He would make a powerful servant. Our Shogun, leading our armies.”
Brandon smiled.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
God-King – The Abyss
The Samurai was dressed in fearsome, crimson armor, his sword flashing as he hacked down another one of my servants. I strode forward, gathering all the power I had amassed. I hoped this worked.
Emi was certain it would.
She stayed back, watching, her eyes smoldering.
“Samurai!” I roared, using my power to make my voice boom. “Kneel and bow before your God-King.”
The Samurai turned and charged, his armor clinking. From the alcove, I noticed three beauties dressed in transparent kimonos, watching with calm passion. Their faces were painted white like geisha. My cock stirred.
They were worthy of my harem.
The Samurai swung his blade.
I pushed out my power, stopping the sword before it reached my flesh. Hell was malleable, and who had the most power had the advantage. I had hundreds of souls serving me. This man had three. His eyes widened through slits in his demonic mask.
“How?” the Samurai demanded, struggling to move his blade as it was frozen an inch before my face.
The three geisha’s faces grew disturbed. For a moment, chains flashed between them and the Samurai, black as midnight. They were different than the chains that I had bound my servants with. These were far stronger, made of adamant compared to the brittle iron I chained my followers.
The Samurai bound the three with the Zimmah ritual. Their bond was impossible to break. I could never own those women’s souls. What a pity.
The Samurai strained to pull his blade back. Then he let go of his blade and his armored fist lashed out at my face. I blinked in surprise, barely stopping his punch before he connected with my face. With a thought, I wrapped his body in invisible chains, holding him immobile.
“Fight with honor!” the Samurai bellowed. “Face me with courage and strength of arms, sorcerer!”
“I am a God,” I laughed. I reached out, pulling off his helmet. He was a young man, his face a dark-olive, his black hair in a top-knot. His eyes burned as he fought my restraints. “I am the new ruler of Hell. I am your Emperor. Your choices are simple. Serve as my Shogun and lead my armies, or suffer an eternity of torment.” I glanced at his women. “I’ll make sure your whores are well taken care of.”
He let out a snarling rage.
“You are a samurai,” I continued. “Your place is to serve. Fulfill the Bushido Code. Swear fealty to me. My gratitude will be endless. Your rewards will last eternity.”
The anger fell from his face. His eyes flickered. I followed his gaze. He looked at my growing army then at my harem. Beneath the fierce fire burning in his eyes I saw something else—love. He didn’t want to submit to me, but he feared for his women. They made him weak.
The Samurai broke. “One condition,” he growled, “ and you will have my service.”
I nodded my head.
“You will never touch my concubines. You have enough women without needing to violate their flesh.”
My cock stirred. But it was more than a fair trade. If Emi’s promises of this man were to be believed, I could forgo fucking three whores. There would be plenty to find in Hell. I would have an eternity to glut on feminine flesh.
“Agreed.” I released my hold on him.
He fell to his hands and knees, bowing low before me. “I will be your Shogun, mighty God-King. My blade and I will serve you with unyielding fidelity. I shall lead your armies and crush your enemies. Your will is mine now.”
I chained his soul to mine.
“Then lead my army.”
I passed him control over the men. The Samurai was chained to me. I controlled him. He could keep the rabble in line. He rose, seizing his sword from the air and sheathing it. His concubines strode forward, each bowing before me.
“Conquer everything,” I commanded him. “Recruit any who would fight. Seize the women to keep your men pleasured. Deliver ruin on any who resist.”
“Hai,” bowed the Samurai.
The men I gave him were suddenly clad in crimson breastplates, and spears appeared in their surprised hand. The Samurai barked orders, and the men obeyed, forming into ranks, looking like an army instead of a rabble.
“See,” Emi purred. “He shall conquer Hell for us.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The God-Queen – The Abyss
The Samurai more than exceeded my praise. His men were swift and brutal. Within hours, he had secured the sprawling oven, swelling the ranks of our army. A vast train of women trailed after his men, chattel to keep our warriors happy between battles.
The choicest joined our personal harem.
The way out was located, and the Samurai led our men into a Brass City. Dis. The demons that prowled the streets, spindly creatures who howled and gibbered, were driven back. Brandon and I lounged in the oven, enjoying our pets while the Samurai secured the city.
After a day, his messenger arrived. “Mighty Gods,” the messenger boomed, bowing before us like a samurai himself, a katana on his side, his ebony face pressed to the floor. The Samurai had left his will imprinted on our army. “The Samurai has seized a palace. Lucifer’s palace. And he has taken a prisoner.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Lucifer himself,” the messenger reported with a chuckle. “The Devil was killed only moments after escaping Hell.”
“Mark,” growled Brandon.
Would nothing stop the man? I ached to carve Justice into Mark and Mary’s flesh.
“I believe so, Exalted One. The Samurai awaits you at your leisure in the throne room of Dis.”
Together, our harem trailing after us, we walked through the City of Brass. Buildings reflected the red light of Hell, rising up in twisted shapes about us. Everything was made of brass, even the streets, the metal soiled by the writhing corpses of butchered demons.
Our men held the grand palace, dominated by spires and domes. Colossal doors were thrown open, leading into the arching splendor of Lucifer’s throne room. At the far end a throne sat empty. The Samurai stood next to it, his foot resting on the neck of a bloodied form.