For My Ascension, I Ordered My Commanders to Stalk Me
Copyright© 2025 by Palescript
Chapter 8: Whispers Below the Arena
Supernatural Sex Story: Chapter 8: Whispers Below the Arena - Choose your own adventure. Black Flag: (least spoilers/you want the darkest ride): Libby's life as a small-town librarian is brought to an end the night two monsters masquerading as men drag her through a portal into Hell. Subjected to public humiliation and ritualized depravity beyond comprehension, Libby clings to one certainty: none of this is random cruelty. What purpose does it, and will she, ultimately serve in this terrible new world? Red Flag blurb is at the beginning of Ch. 1
Caution: This Supernatural Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Mult Mind Control NonConsensual Rape Slavery BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction High Fantasy Horror Paranormal Magic Demons BDSM DomSub MaleDom Humiliation Rough Sadistic Spanking Gang Bang Group Sex Harem Orgy Polygamy/Polyamory Anal Sex Analingus Cream Pie Double Penetration Exhibitionism Oral Sex Voyeurism Public Sex Royalty Violence
Cold. She was so cold. And sore. One ache blurred into the next from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.
She slowly cracked open her eyes. It was pitch black.
Was she dead? No, she couldn’t be dead. Everything hurt far too much for that. Had she gone blind? She couldn’t even make out indistinct shapes, let alone a source of light. She let her eyes fall shut again. It was much too hard to keep them open.
A distant, buzzing clamor reverberated through the walls, but it was muffled. Like she was beneath several layers of rock or soil. Anxiety suddenly spiked until she tasted copper, streaming through her body with every quickening beat of her heart.
Was she back in the Underground? Back in that terrifying, horrible, lightless place? Oh no. No, no, no.
“Fates above and below,” a shaking voice said. “Help me get her down from there,”
There was a click, followed by a whoosh as pressure lifted from the back of her neck, her forearms. A clinking sound came from somewhere below, then an echoing thud as a cool brush of air passed across her ankles.
Something very warm touched her arm, stroked her shoulder. She flinched, whimpered.
Her eyes flew open again. Move, she needed to move. She had to hide. Find a corner, make herself small as possible, and hide. She jerked upright and tried to get her legs under her. They instantly buckled, and her arms slipped free from their anchors.
Suddenly, she was weightless. A dim part of her recognized she was falling, her legs too weak to bear her weight, her arms too leaden and numb to throw out for balance.
She braced for the pain of a heavy impact, but it never came.
Arms wrapped around her, pulling her against a hard chest. The smell of smoke and ash curled into her lungs. The firey notes split her in two, the scent immediately comforting and simultaneously stoking the flames of her despair.
“It’s okay, Lili,” said a low, steadying voice. “Don’t worry. I’m here, and I’ve got you now.”
More panic flooded her system, and she thrashed, terror gripping her in an iron fist. She knew what came next. She couldn’t bear another touch, couldn’t endure another body rutting into hers. No more. She couldn’t take any more.
“No, please no,” she pleaded, trying to break free of her assailant’s grasp. “I’m sorry, please—please just let me go.”
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, lowering them to the ground. “My thali, my soul’s light, please just let me hold you.”
She thrashed even harder, struggling to break free. Her useless nails scrabbled over the stone floor, across feverish skin. She wouldn’t let them take her. She wouldn’t let them—she couldn’t— Her breath was sawing in and out in choked gasps, her raw fear drowning out everything else.
Instinct took over. She didn’t think. She sank her teeth into pliant flesh, biting as deep and as hard as she could, needing them to feel even a fraction of her pain. Blood instantly welled in her mouth, and a scalding warmth hit her tongue. It spread down her throat like liquid fire, pooling in her chest and radiating outward until her fingertips tingled and her skin felt too tight and too hot, like she’d swallowed molten metal.
“That’s it,” the voice said in her ear with a throaty groan. He pulled her on top of his legs and anchored her impossibly deeper into the massive curve of his body. “Mark me. Make me bleed for what I’ve done. I’m yours. Every drop of my blood already belongs to you.”
That warmth spread through her skull, turning her thoughts sluggish and soft. The panic that had gripped her moments ago fell far away, an echo she could barely recall.
The arms around her hadn’t slackened. He only continued to hold her, gently rocking her while he stroked her hair. A velvety, lilting tune hummed in the ear pressed to his chest, a song she somehow recognized but could not name. Her jaw started to slacken, and she slowly released the flesh trapped between her teeth. Her head dropped, lolling against his chest.
The lethargic warmth moving through her body had chased away the chill and put her racing mind at ease, sending her drifting like a leaf across rippling waters.
All the while, someone else was drawing nearer, their irregular breaths growing louder. Despite her muddling thoughts struggling to stay afloat, she didn’t think those jagged pants were coming from the one weaving that haunting melody.
Something heavenly and soft was wrapped around her, and she snuggled deeper into the broad chest at her back. She found the energy to blink open her eyes, her vision still swimming. This time, she could only just make out faint outlines, the suggestion of a shape with silvery-white hair coming closer. It was still too dark to make out anything more than his towering silhouette.
“This is so much harder than I thought it would be,” the masculine voice prowling closer said, his ragged voice strained, “and I already knew it would be hell. I’d prepared myself for this, knew this would be excruciating, but I’m barely keeping it together. Every time I close my eyes, I fantasize about slaughtering those worthless cur above us and flooding the pit red with an ocean of their blood.”
The one holding her stopped humming and took a long, shuddering breath. An inky shroud draped over his head and covered the sides of his face, so dark it was as if he wore a hood. “I can’t go through with this anymore. Standing by and watching them leer at her, put their hands on her, put their filthy fucking cocks inside her.” He was shaking. “I can’t keep doing nothing while she suffers out there alone.”
“Our blood oath—”
“Fuck the blood oath. Something inside me is dying, brother. And in that wretched void ... a monster is taking root. It is covetous, it is cruel, and it ... it wants to hurt the very person I treasure most of all.” His erratic pulse was pounding against the side of her head. “This is torture. Watching others touch what belongs to me—”
“Belongs to us,” the other male snarled.
“—to us,” he hissed in reply, “is driving serrated spikes through what little remains of my sanity. I’m this close to shedding the last vestige of my restraint and unleashing the nightmare that has made its home under my skin.”
“You think you’re the only one having to fight tooth and claw against your nature?” He bit off a laugh. “Our drow blood feeds on agony and despair. This place reeks of her intoxicating anguish, and all I want to do is gorge myself on it until I’m sick. I swore to shield her from harm, and yet a part of me savors her suffering like a drug I can’t resist. Fates, what am I becoming?”