Subjugation of Salma

The Dinner Party - 2

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

The Minister snuck down a long hallway, trying doors every now and then. Where was she? He had to have her. The boiling fizz that pulsed through his body wouldn’t stop. He heard a creak from above, looked at the stairs for a moment, and decided to ascend. This hallway was as identical and confusing as the previous one. Why did all the transitionary spaces in this house look the goddamn same? A minute later and he wasn’t completely sure he would be able to find the ballroom again. Was that the same drone as before he just passed? Had he seen that maid before?

Suddenly he heard a muffled sound behind a bedroom door. Was it a thud? He put his ear to the door. He was sure he could hear her voice. Her delicious needy voice, was she talking to someone? Was someone else in the room? Without thinking, the Minister’s hands opened the door.

The door opens part way. An animalistic snarl, and Salma’s clawed hand bolted out. Grabbing the Minister. Pulling him into the room with a force that sent him staggering. He collided with a bedside table and tumbled to the floor. Recovering, he inspected his now torn shirt before looking up. He was more excited than mad.

“Like it rough do y-” His smartass remark was cut short by what he was seeing.

Salma alternated between moaning and panting, speaking in short sharp words, barely understandable, as she faltered and had to take to one knee, or fall.

“Haaa~ Haaaa~ Mmmhmmmplea- hhhuunnggerr- pleeeaase~ please!”

But she wasn’t talking to the Minister. In fact, her eyes bore through him as if he wasn’t even there. Her hips started bucking unconsciously, and sweat ran down her tensing pulsing body. The window into her was still open, and the Minister was forced to sample a taste of her desperation. It froze him in place. The need to serve, to obey, to dominate, to fuck, to shatter and consume. Her slaveneed. It was infecting him, burning up inside him. He couldn’t think to move, even if he wanted to. He needed her.

Her moans, louder and louder, occasionally becoming a rut.

“Yyyes. Yes. Any-yyy- anythiiing for-”.

Another moan.

“You- wii- your will-- yes”.

Her hands feverishly over her body. Squeeing. Groping. Pulling.

The crystal roses on all of her bonds were glowing brightly. Her cage twitched. She was leaking a constant clear thread that collected in a puddle on the floor.

“Yes. Your instrument. Yours. Yours. Yours. Nnnnnnplease Mistress let meee f-nnnnn”.

For a moment the Minister clutched his head, he could hear a voice. He realised it was the voice Salma was talking to. The voice that currently chimed irresistibly through her shattered mind.

Still needy my pet?~

Still hungry my pet?~

How much do you want it?~

Show me~

Very good, so desperate to be an instrument of my will~ 

Your only reason for being~



The voice was gone again. But not for Salma. Not for the shattered, subjugated succubus.

“Yes Mistress - aaa-aa- a- p-privilige t--to sss-ervvve” she continued her pleading replies. She nearly collapsed to the floor completely, but put her hands out to save herself.

“Yes. Want them all.”

The symbols on her bonds burned so brightly, the room lit dim red.

“Want to take.”

Her claws scraped the floor as she pushed herself back up into correct service posture. Hands behind her head.

“Want to bend.”

“Want to brrrreeeak.”

Her eyes burned the same colour as the flowers on her bonds, the metal of which now glowed red hot.

“B-Break this one. Aaand- aand- a- aaalll- all the others!”

Her moans of longing were desperate screams now. Tears streamed down her face, as her need throbbed through her.


She convulsed.

Fire spat forth from the roses on her now white-hot bonds. Yet she did not burn.

Her eyes no longer green, but a deep, glowing, blood-red. Staring into them made the Minister feel like he was falling.




Her screams were otherworldly, the Minister’s soul chilled, whilst his body overheated and pulsed with terrifying need. Her visage was burning into his eyes, yet he could not blink away.




The bonds were melting away. Thick globs of white-hot metal falling to the floor with a hiss. Her tail and wing bonds fell first as a wicked, contorted, agonised grin of ecstasy spread across the demon’s face. Her wings spread. Her tail cut the air.




Her collar had fallen away.




Her cage was gone, a lot of her juice spilled to the floor as her demonic member quivered and grew. She let out a final shrieking roar, as ethereal fire licked and danced across all the marks on her skin. Her eyes were deep pools of void.


The Minister screamed, transfixed, panting, hips unconsciously bucking.

He was not heard above Salma’s cruel, shrieking laughter. She sprung forward at long last, prompted by one final whisper from Mistress.



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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