Subjugation of Salma

The Dinner Party - 1

by Sabrina Jaye (⬡-#4506)

Tags: #cw:noncon #bondage #D/s #dom:female #exhibitionism #f/f #sub:female #chastity #demon #drones #fantasy #mindbreak #sadomasochism #succubus #urban_fantasy

“And that’s how I acquired my newest darling pet, Salma here”.

The Cabinet Minister blinked twice and shook his head subtly, he was back in the dining room. What a vivid story, he must have daydreamed along to it. He realised he had been staring at the succubus with his mouth hanging slightly open, lust no-doubt spilling from his eyes. He couldn’t help it, she looked so good.

She was obediently standing to attention, back straight, hands by her side. Staring blankly ahead, the minister could make out her plump, black lips, her big wide green eyes, her cute button nose. She was a thing of beauty. Her glistening, smooth crimson skin was marked with black otherworldly marks and symbols. Her clawed hands, perfect for dancing along someone’s flesh, making them shiver, leaving marks. Two long horns twisted out of her head, from under her shiny, waist length, black hair. The minister imagined grabbing them as he fucked her throat.

Her ass already looked amazing, the Minister thought, but with the shiny red and black mary-jane pumps, the 10 inch heels- he gulped. The Mistress had promised to dress her new pet in the most tantalizing outfits, but for now, every inch of her was to be seen and enjoyed. Her intricate silver thorny bonds, decorated with crystal roses, gleamed under the light of the dining hall chandelier. She looked like a precious art piece. The crystal roses glowed their red pulsing glow. Sealing her. Binding her. Denying her what she needed. Making her body ache for it.

It made her obedient and unmoving service stance, her dull fixed gaze, even more hot. He wondered what happened if she ever broke her composure. Would the Mistress punish her?

She was too far away to see clearly but…

Could he see her leak slightly through her cage?

How desperate did The Mistress keep her?

Was is torture or ecstasy?

Was there a difference?

He realised he was staring again, and there was a tent in his pants. He shook his head again and snapped his attention back to the polite conversation happening around him. He was at a dinner party held by The Mistress, for the city’s best and brightest, a celebration of- of- or was it a fundraiser? He couldn’t quite remember the invitation.

Anyway, The Mistress had invited him and a few other big names in government, business, and high-society.

Of course he accepted.

When she invites you, you attend.

When she asks for a personal audience, you say yes.

When she wants a policy to be pushed through, you push.

She always got what she wanted. There were rumours of what happened to those that were not accommodating. Were they true? The better question: Was it worth finding out?

He shivered, and continued to nod along to the conversation, pretending to listen to a man who was the husband of some CEO, or had some connection to the private surveillance sector. Or something. He didn’t really care. The Mistress was only a few seats to his left, at the head of the table. She always politely listened, a small smile on her face.

But the way her eyes seemed to stare through you as she did so…

You could never tell if she was secretly mad or not. If you weren’t careful, you could easily find yourself blabbing anything and everything, spilling your inner secrets and thoughts, in some kind of desperation for some kind of positive reaction.

She blinked, and for a moment her eyes were on her newest possession. Her eyes drank the succubus in. She very subtly sighed and her eyes softened for a moment. Only for a moment, but the minister noticed. Was it a mix of justified pride and immense affection? A second later, she was back to the conversation.

Plates were being cleared by a few maids, when the succubus silently stepped forward to help clear the table, as if ordered to attend, by some unspoken command. The minister wondered if he was imagining it when he saw The Mistress’ eyes flutter, as if concentrating. Did… she just…

Suddenly, the succubus was leaning over him.

“Please, excuse me, Sir” she apologized in a flat tone. She said ‘Sir’, but the Minister wondered if in reality, she had really seen him. Or anyone.

Her breasts centimetres from his face, he breathed in her scent, and instantly felt an intense heat fizz from his head and down through all of his extremities. He shut his eyes and tried to shake the debauched thoughts of all the things he wanted to do to her out of his head.

She got closer, reaching for a dish, brushing against him. He wanted - no - needed - to touch her crimson skin, to trace her black otherworldly marks with his fingers. No sooner he had the thought, he did. He didn’t mean to, but his arm just-

The succubus let out an aroused shuddering breath and stood to attention, dropping the dish she had reached for. The clatter silenced the room. The minister snapped back into the room and jumped in his seat.

“Oh I’m sor-”.

The Mistress held up her hand to silence him and looked at her pet. The succubus immediately knelt and put her hands behind her head, pushing her chest and hips out. Her eyes were as if someone had flicked a switch, where once there was dim passive docility, now there was a bright, wide, desperate need. The Mistress took the opportunity to show off a little. She stood and came around to her desperate pet.

“Oh I knoooow Minister, ‘you just couldn’t stop yourself’ hmm?” she cooed. “Such is the succubus’ power, don’t you know your metaphysical beings?”.

Another woman at the table piped up.

“But, Mistress? How did you avoid being on the receiving end of such power? They fill the hearts of man with all consuming lust, but here, she kneels for you?“

The Mistress looked down at her pet and smirked for a moment, enjoying the opportunity for ego boosting exposition.

“Because their power is their weakness, dear. They tempt humanity because they have to. They need to. Indeed, I sometimes wonder if the debauched need they make other people feel is, in fact, just a window of their own self, of their own need to tempt, and kiss, and rub, and fuck, and feed”. Having caught Salma herself, she had a lot more insight into her trophy's nature than she was letting on.

Almost as if on cue, the succubus looked up at the Minister and softly pleaded in between whimpers and moans.

“Please sir. Pleeeaaase. T-t-touch m-m-m-meee?”

The Minister looked at the Mistress who simply raised her brow as if to say “Well?”.

Nervously he reached out and started playing with her nipple. Her guttural moan awakened something in him, he knew it was her demonic power affecting him, but it felt just too good. He wanted her. God, how he wanted her.

The Mistress looked up and dead into the eyes of the woman who asked the question.

“And... Needs? Desires? I know just what to do with those. Those are exploitable.”

The woman wasn’t satisfied.

“Y-yes, but I mean, how did you not succumb in the first place? How did you trap her? Some protection? A device? A spell?”

The Mistress simply flashed a smile.

“That. Would be telling. Now, Pet...” the Mistress cooed.

Down on the floor, the succubus had started shivering and leaking more than before. The crystal roses adorning her were burning brighter, almost humming.

The Minister stopped and the pet turned on her knees to face her Mistress. Upon seeing her owner, the succubus’ eyes flickered, her face settled back to dull docility. Her bonds started to dim as her desperate breathing slowed.

He couldn’t be sure, but for a moment, the Minister thought he saw The Mistress’ pendant, glow as her slave locked eyes with her, was it quieting the singing of her bonds? Suppressing her arousal? Her need? Only for it to return in full, and then some, at the slightest provocation?

“M-m-mistress?” The succubus’ voice was still slightly shaky. 

“Go about your tasks my pet”

“Yes, my Mistress” She stood.

Her heels clacked across the wooden floor as she exited through a door the staff had been using all evening.

“Now, honoured guests” The Mistress announced “If you would head on through to the ballroom for our evening entertainment”.

Wide doors at the end of the dining-room, swung open to welcome the guests. A latex clad drone and a blank maid stood by to usher the guests through.

The Mistress walked to the window and stared out into the night as all of the guests filed into the ballroom. Almost all of them. Thinking he was unseen, the Minister left out the same doorway Salma did. He knew what sort of entertainment he wanted.

The Mistress smirked. Her amulet began to glow again. Brighter than before. She started whispering aloud.


Thanks go to Mistress Valentina (@Valentina_NSFW) for massaging my suggestible mind into accepting a succubus headspace that formed the original inspiration for this story.

I’m also very grateful for the counsel and notes from Azure of the Bloody Rose (@AzuresMansion). Her talent for words never ceases to impress and enthral, and has been instrumental in the final form of the story.

About the Author

Sabrina Jaye Ward is a friendly, hypnokinky, drone trans nerd, who grew up in a small town in South Lincolnshire, England, where the inhabitants were suspicious and prone to treachery and breaking out into song, sometimes at the same time.

She now lives in another, equally disturbing village. Or does she? When she’s not science-ing she spends her spare time indulging in her hobbies. Common activities include gardening, gathering evidence, doing archery, running from fraught situations, gaming (of the video and tabletop variety), collecting retro computers and technology, [REDACTED], keeping interesting pets, and evading capture.

The authorities still refuse to believe her. But they’ll see, they’ll all see!

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