It was the perfect Christmas morning. Snow drifted outside window, but the roaring fire kept the home nice and toasty inside. The tree shone with electric lights and glittery tinsel and baubles. Its branches shielded their boxed-up, brightly-wrapped presents. Up on the mantelpiece, an elf-shaped sound system sung out songs of Christmas cheer. They each had a mug of nice, hot eggnog.

If not for the demons, you’d never tell the whole thing was in the Sixth Hell.

Vakria, twelfth-degree succubus, leaned herself in against her husband’s side. That morning, she’d transformed away her wings and tail, the better to fit in her trendily ugly sweater. Otherwise, she remained herself. Swirling, mystical tattoos decorated her creamy skin, especially visible on her long, shapely legs. Her voluptuous curves fell just short of straining the sweater. She had arranged her crimson hair to fall with just a little more messy curl than usual. It put in mind the kind of bedroom exercise that would earn that tousle. As she rested her head against her husband’s shoulder, she didn’t even bother to be careful with her small, curved horns. The vrolikai could handle it.

At home, Brex stayed a ‘mere’ seven feet tall. That was his only concession to their feigned normalcy. Those four, rippling horns still topped his elongated head. A shaggy, silver man ran along his back, even longer than Vakria’s own curls. He didn’t even wear clothing: human clothes simply didn’t fit his demonic frame. His leathery wings spread too wide; his four arms would never have fit in a humanoid’s pair of sleeves; his long-ankled, clawed legs didn’t go like normal trousers would expect; even if they could handle that, his tapered, flexible tail would burst through any pair, even more surely than his thick cock. So his dark purple skin remained bare, rippling over his hard, dense muscles.

Not that Vakria minded at all. She turned her head, brushing her cheek along his broad chest. Her hands ran over his thigh and his back, just below his wing. While he had two hands holding his mug, he drew his third arm around her waist, pulling her in closer. She could feel that crackling tension again, the lustful heat that never stayed away for long. She leaned into him, feeling his subtly-rough skin even through her sweater.

But that morning, she had special plans, and so she slid herself away and up to her feet. She gave him a smile of apology, and turned his attention elsewhere. “How would you like to open some presents?” She danced her way over to one big box, all wrapped up green and red. “I think you’ll especially like your first one.”

Brex sighed. He showed his pointed teeth with a long-suffering smile, even as his pure-white eyes gleamed with affection. “Even now, you know how to tease.” After one more sip, he set his mug down. “But, if you insist.”

Anticipation buzzed through Vakria. With a grin, she lifted the lid from the box, and let its sides collapse down. With the spell broken, the box’s contents stirred.

A red Santa-style hat sat over her short, shaggy hair. Pale blonde locks contrasted with the sunkissed tan of her skin. Her face had a strong, handsome kind of beauty, and showed the prime of adult youth. The sleep spell’s haze still made her lids heavy over her dark brown eyes. A red Christmas ornament held her mouth open, the ball of a ball gag that wrapped around her head, secured by a black leather band.

Standing at full, she would reach a tall six feet. Her Amazonian physique bulked it out with strong, toned muscle, but also softened with all the curve a lover could want -- especially at her heavy, rounded breasts and child-ready hips.

There on the opened box’s inner padding, she did not stand at full height. She lay on her back, curled up to fit. Her legs were frog-tied together: knees pointed upwards, ankles at either side of her hips. With her wrists tied together behind her neck, her arms sat like blinders on either side of her head. Red ribbons, stronger than their delicate appearance would suggest, kept her in that pose. Rather than clothing, only flimsy-looking wrapping paper gave her modesty. Vakria was proud of that wrapping job. Cones of paper wrapped each limb, helping to bind forearm to upper and thigh to calf. More of it hugged her body, a single swath of paper from neck to crotch. The thin stuff did nothing to hide her shape, nor the fact she had nothing on underneath.

“Surprise!” Vakria shouted. “It’s that hero that’s been giving you so much trouble!”

Her shout, just as planned, woke the woman from her slumber. Those brown eyes opened fully ... and as she realised her situation, they opened wide. She tried to free herself, but could only squirm. That paper and those ribbons were much stronger than they looked, and not even her inhuman strength could break through it. The festive ball gag muffled her screams -- not that anyone would come running to help her anyway, not down in the Sixth Hell.

For the moment, Brex ignored her protests, the better to highlight their futility. He kept his eyes on the hero’s body as he approached her, but spoke only to Vakria. “Aww, dear. How sweet of you. And I can do whatever I want with her?” He’d already started. Two hands slid back and forth over her legs, feeling how the wrapping crinkled under his touch.

Vakria laughed. “Oh, of course, darling. Please, try her out right now!”

Brex grinned, his teeth gleaming in the firelight. Another hand took hold of one breast, giving it a few slow squeezes, while his fourth mockingly pet her cheek.

Her body lurched. At first, she just flinched back, trying in vain to escape the touch. Her muffled voice rose at a higher pitch, but still couldn’t form any words. When his hand moved on her cheek, she snapped at him -- or tried to. The gag didn’t let her bite any more than it let her speak.

Yet, the attempt was still clear, and Brex reacted as it deserved. He swept her with a backhand, hard enough to knock her back and leave her dazed, her brown eyes seeing stars.

“Poor, foolish girl,” Vakria said. While her husband groped the hero’s body, Vakria slid to kneel near her head. Her fingers stroked through her hair. It wasn’t long enough to get a real handful, but she still used it to tug the girl into facing upwards, looking at the vrolikai above her. “You don’t get to resist anymore. You’re done fighting. As of today, you’re my husband’s toy.” She smiled at him. “And how do you think you’ll play with her first, dear?”

The whole time Vakria spoke, Brex toyed with her. He kneaded both her breasts, forcing the stiff paper into her sensitive curves and making her writhe. His other two hands nudged at her knees, making her legs spread wider to accommodate him as he knelt between them. “The way a woman like her should be played with. The way I’d been playing with that slave, the first time she interrupted.” Though he spoke to Vakria, he kept his eyes on the human, staring her down. He gripped the paper at the middle of her chest. “I’m going to fuck her.”

Magic made the paper stronger than the hero could break in her compromised position. Brex was stronger still. It made a rich, tearing sound as Brex unwrapped his present. Her ripe breasts came free, brown nipples pointing to the ceiling. The skin below her neck was much lighter than the tan on her face, showing how modestly she liked to dress when she was under the sun. She thrashed, as if trying to twist far enough to hide herself against the floor. It was already pointless, but Vakria still steadied her with a grip on her shoulders. There’d be no escape. The shock and defiance in her eyes melted away into pure fear. Mewls of panic lifted from her forced-open lips, especially as her eyes traced to Brex’s naked groin.

Brex kept those two hands on her chest. His tough, purple skin slid on her creamy softness, stroking and kneading as roughly as her heroic body could withstand. With his lower hands, he more delicately tore away the paper from her groin, baring her sex and its natural, sunlight-yellow curls. Her outer lips pulled tight together, as if her lack of arousal could create a final line of defence.

It would do the hero no good, but Vakria still tightened her grip and held her that little bit more still. Brex took his time looking her body up and down, even as paper still wrapped most of it. He’d only bared the ‘best’ bits. His hips stalked closer, and one hand lifted his manhood. Sadistic arousal had already begun to swell the phallic thing, blooming it until it took its full shape, hooking slightly upwards towards the tip. He pressed its lower edge against her slit, and each move of his body rubbed and slid it on her. The touch made her shudder with revulsion, but she’d already backed away as far as her compromised position would allow. Brex just pursued her, his broad body bearing down on hers. He stared into her face, aggression lit across his eyes.

They could have kept up that torment all day. But Vakria knew the look on his face. He didn’t just want to tease her. He wanted to fuck her for the sake of fucking her. He wanted that tight, muscled body. Each press of his shaft along her slit only heightened his lust and her terror. Even with the stimulation, her sex stayed dry. It wouldn’t stop him, not if he actually tried. But they had other means than raw force.

Vakria leaned over the hero, her clothed breasts briefly blocking Brex’s view of the blonde’s face. She stroked her soft fingers along his meaty shaft, and smiled as she spoke her words of magic. In the wake of her touch, his skin shone with conjured lubrication, until he was slick from root to tip. They didn’t need their victim’s nectar when they could make nectar of their own.

Her willingness and desires really didn’t matter at all. She roughly shook her head on Vakria’s lap, and Brex didn’t even hesitate. His sheer girth forced him to go slowly, easing inch after wide inch into her. She squealed with pain, her body reflexively shivering. It squeezed on him, as if to push him back out ... but that just made her feel tighter, made it feel better to rape her.

His first few thrusts spread that lubricant within her, making the way smooth. Once she was moistened, he abruptly switched gears. Slow torture became swift, selfish sex. Each hammering thrust forced that whole dick into her, and rocked her body hard, her tits wobbling in his grip. She screamed into her gag. Her eyes squeezed shut; she didn’t even try to face him down, but just dropped into denial, into as happy a place as she could make. But while she could close her eyes to the sights, she couldn’t hide herself away from the sensations, to the violent work of his shaft spearing into her. As the minutes passed, her cries and breathing turned ever more ragged, while Brex just moaned with growing pleasure. She wore out her throat trying to scream, even as it kept failing to change what happened to her.

Vakria knew he could keep it up all day. He could keep fucking her until pure stimulation made her enjoy it -- or made her body enjoy it, at least. But she could see in his eyes that he wanted to be selfish. So rather than hours of patient torture, that rough fucking lasted only a few minutes. His thrusts turned desperate and shaky towards the end, until he finally shouted his ecstasy. His hips slapped forwards once more, and his whole spine writhed with bliss. Vakria couldn’t see it, not with his cock buried so deeply in their heroic toy, but she knew how messily her husband could cum. And in the end, she could see it indirectly: those spurts unloaded heavily enough to plump the hunter’s womb, just enough to make a slight curve in her toned belly.

Brex finally took his hands off her, all four of them moving to keep him propped up over her. After a moment of breathless gasping, he pulled himself from her. For the first time that morning, Vakria saw her husband’s seed: pearly white, it trickled out along one of the blonde’s thighs.

A moment later, the hero’s brown eyes she blinked, looking up and around herself. She wasn’t being groped or fucked anymore. Though shame and pain still burned in her gaze, some relief rose as well. At least it was over, right?

Vakria didn’t let her think that for long. She moved out from under her, dropping her head down onto the small pillow built into the box. She didn’t quite take her husband’s place, sitting beside one thigh instead of between them, but she still took over tormenting the woman. Her fingers dived into her well-watered slit, probing back and forth. “Well, look at you--” She hit a wall. She looked up towards Brex. “What’s her name again?”

“Maxima,” he said. He sat back on the couch, and got ready to enjoy watching.

Vakria smiled, and turned back to the hero. She had kept fingering her the whole time. “Well, look at you, Maxima. You look so good, so freshly fucked. And you can feel it, can’t you?” She made a point of stirring her fingers through the mess inside her pussy. “You can feel how heavily my dear husband came in you. Can feel every last drop of the seed he’s planted. You’re going to be a good little breeder pet for us, aren’t you?”

Maxima’s breath caught in her throat. Fresh terror lit in her eyes as she stared at Vakria.

“Oh yes,” Vakria said. “A heroic womb like yours is such a commodity, Maxima.” She kept her tone light and conversational, and all the while, her fingers kept swimming through that mix of lube and semen. “That great, inborn strength that made you such a dreadful bother, back when you were free. Any child of yours would inherit the same strength. Heroes make such good soldiers.” Despite herself, Maxima started squirming under Vakria’s fingers. The succubus knew exactly how to play with a woman’s nerves, and she actually wanted to push that pleasure into her this time. “And yours would be hellspawn, too! Most women can barely survive birthing one hellspawn. But a good, strong hero like you? Oh, my husband can knock you up over and over and over again.”

The hero shook her head as violently as she could manage. She screamed into the gag again, though Vakria couldn’t tell how much of it was anguish and how much was unwanted pleasure.

As much sadistic thrill as she got from the former, she really wanted to push the dial more towards the latter. So the succubus turned up the charm. She worked her fingers that bit more gracefully, paying less attention to the pool of cum and more attention to the nerve clusters inside the woman. As those long fingers plunged deep, her thumb came up and rubbed her pearl. “Of course, we don’t expect you to enjoy it, not at first.” She put her other hand to Maxima’s chest. That big breast had a lovely, firm surface, keeping its shape rounded even while she lay on her back. In contrast with how her husband had groped, Vakria massaged that breast in a way that sent squirms along the hero’s spine. “After all...” She leaned low, her sweater-clad breast brushing the blonde’s side, and put her lips to her ear. Though she put a husky tone in her voice, she still spoke loudly enough for her husband to hear the taunt. “ ... I know you prefer girls.”