06-08-2015, 01:03 PM
Shell shock. The condition in which a soldier’s mind cannot possibly process the horrors they have witnessed and shuts down. As the red-head’s mind came clawing back to reality it came back with a vengeance. Her eyesight focused and the face of Yennefer was passed through the optical nerve to the occipital lobe. Trixie’s rage had been ignited and the temper that had made both her Sith alter ego and her dead father-in law a legend came to the surface. With the rage of both a Sith Lord and Toma Zulenka she tore into both of the demonic guards who had descended upon her. Breaking the elbow of the guard to her left she used the polearm it was wielding to bend the arm backward. Placing both feet to its torso she ripped the arm from the socket. Her eyes bright pink with rage Trixie brought the bladed polearm down upon the second guard with deadly accuracy. It was split in two, the demonic blood spilling all over the floor.
Placing a stained boot to the skewered corpse she pulled the bladed weapon out and through blood stained hair narrowed her eyes on the new form of Yennefer Von Markham.
“My my, Beatrix. Such anger. My lord will be pleased to know that you have fight in you, but like all the others you will learn that this is not a realm where you have ANY power.” Yennefer giggled.
She was no longer a human. Yennefer was now a scantily clad succubus. Her hair was still black, but was tied into a loose ponytail instead of a bun. She wore a loose black robe adorned with red stitching that was cut up around her breasts to show off their size and nipples, which were pierced. With a snap of her fingers the guards reassembled themselves and the polearm Trixie was wielding burst into shadow energy. Without her knowledge three more guards had appeared behind her. A sharp blow to the back of the head immediately made the mistress groggy and puke up blood from some internal injury. As the thick crimson liquid ran down her chin and onto her armor she felt her hands being bound above her head by chain. Throwing the chain over a hoop on the ceiling the demon guards hoisted Beatrix off the ground. Taking the blunt ends of their swords the demons broke both the mistress’ femur and tibia of each leg. Shrieking in pain as the bones were crudely damaged her jaw was met with a fist that filled her mouth with blood. Choking through the crimson fluid Trixie’s eyes were wide with pain and her breathing labored.
“You have no idea what real pain is, Trixie.” The succubus baited.
With a clap of her hands Yennefer dismissed the guards and a harem of female servants entered in their place. The dungeon was damp and blood stained yet produced no noticeable smell. It was a room designed for the torture of one person constructed of red looking brick that gave off a dark red glow. Red waxed candles lit the room from sconces on the wall and by the door.
As Yennefer watched, the female servants stripped Trixie of her armor with no remorse for her injuries. They tore and ripped at the broken and stained armor that Nova had given her. With a grunt of pain they ripped off the bicep armor that had been melted onto her skin. Fresh blood ran from the newly opened burn. One of the servants took out a straight razor and held it to Trixie’s throat, gripping her long red hair she pulled the mistress’ head back. Another servant cut the bra and panties from their new captive slave and tossed them into the pile of her previous clothing. Pulling tight on Trixie’s hair one of the servants removed a blade from her robe and hacked away at the previous long hair that adorned the mistress’ head. Eyeballing it she made it shoulder length. The group of female servants inspected every inch of Beatrix’s body up close. Already Trixie’s skin was heavily bruised from the series of broken bones that used to be her legs. Propping the mistress up the servants opened the Sith’s left leg exposing her crotch to Yennefer.
“Belial will definitely be pleased. Now mark her and leave us.” Yennefer said with a smile.
Using shadow energy one of the servants pressed a finger to the left inner thigh of their new captive. Trixie pulled on her restraints and unleashed a blood curdling scream of pain as the tattoo of a serial number slowly burned itself into her thigh. Her scream of agony was interrupted by a punch to the gut. Coughing blood onto the floor the servants abruptly let Trixie fall limp against the chains that bound her to the ceiling. With a sickening crack some of the bones in her legs broke further.
“What...do you...wa-” Her sentence was interrupted by the snap of a whip and the tearing of the flesh on her stomach. Fresh blood seeped down her abdomen and between her legs.
“You are now Prisoner 11256. That is your name, slave. You are property of my Lord Tyrant Belial of the Underverse. You shall speak only when spoken to.” Yennefer recoiled her whip with a grin.
“Go fuck yourself Yennefer.”
Trixie cried out as another lash of the whip made itself across her breasts.
“Learn your place, slave. I’ve already communed with our Lord.”
Trixie spit blood onto Yennfer’s robe. “Your Lord, asshole. Not mine.” She snarled back defiantly.
With a crack and shriek from Trixie the succubus’ whip raked the flesh of the red head.
A thunderous crash brought the Sith to attention as a large, mostly muscular and part skeletal, demon wearing a green cloak came crashing through the dungeon door.
“Yennefer you are required elsewhere. The conditioning of this one has been left to me.”
Though her vision blurred from pain and various other fluids Trixie could see the noticeable shock on the female demons face.
“Jorgan she isn’t built to survive your method. No female has ever made it out of your conditioning alive with their sanity intact.” She argued.
The brute looking demon shook his head. “Belial’s orders. He wants me to test the new pit fighter serum.”
“Tch. Waste of a perfectly good pussy.” Yennefer shook her head and left the room without further argument.
To replace her previous treatment came a new host of demons. Drawing a sword Jorgan sliced Trixie loose from the ceiling, but it came at the cost of her hands. With a shriek of terror the mistress fell onto her shattered legs and squirmed to get away. Two brutes lifted her onto a nearby rack and strapped her into the table. Rotating the bottom rung Jorgan pulled her injured legs tight before taking his cleaver to each thigh. Sprays of blood showered over the floor as he hacked through each bone. Trixie’s consciousness failed her moments after the second leg slid from her person and to the floor.
She awoke as if from a nightmare strapped to the same table. However her hands and legs were still intact; even further every injury she had upon Jorgan’s arrival was gone with nothing to show for it, but the scars littering her body.
“Had it been a hallucination? What the fuck is this place and what is going on?”
“To answer your question, slave Prime. You are being conditioned to fight in the slave pits for Lord Belial. He’s taking a risk on you, because of some other new contender that has recently arrived. Or so our spies report. I am Jorgan. I oversee the male slave Primes and their training, but since our Lord wants something to beat the competition he sent me here to condition you.”
He placed a rubber gag into Trixie’s mouth and strapped it to the table, holding her head down.
“That is all I offer and all you will know, prisoner 11256.”
Jorgan grinned and snapped his fingers. From within a cloud of shadow energy came an overhead injection apparatus stained black with the blood from previous slaves. From what Trixie could make out there were twelve needles hovering over various points of her body. One for each eye, one just above each breast, one for each bicep, two for her abdomen, one for each thigh, and two that would end up between her toes. A henchman threw a strap over the table and tightened Trixie to the table, mounting her arms and legs into the proper positions. Jorgan took a device designed like a pair of goggles from above the mistress’ head. As he fashioned them to her face she could feel tiny metal claws grabbing hold of her eyelids and pulling them open. Trixie could see the demons around her loading vials of blue serum labeled ‘Nephalem A4’ into each syringe.
“Double dose, right?” Jorgan asked one of his nearby henchman who nodded. Looking over his test subjects naked body he smiled. “Well prisoner 11256. This is it. Suffer well.”
Jorgan pulled a lever next to the table and the injection apparatus positioned itself. A red light lit up and with a pinch on the side of her neck she felt the ability to move her body be taken away, but the feeling of pain and touch remain.
“Oh shit. Why is this happening!?”
A yellow light lit up and the syringes moved inches away from Trixie’s body. With a single beep and a green light the needles plunged themselves into her body and her eyes. The pain was indescribable. As soon as the syringes had drained one vial they were quickly refilled with a second dose and another stream of blue liquid was pumped into the restrained dark side user. As soon as the last drop was drained the needles were removed. Almost immediately the puncture wounds were taped up with a special black bandage by Jorgans lackeys. Without warning Trixie broke free from her restraints and regained control of her body. She screamed in agony as her body began to be irrevocably altered.
The mistress’ hair had begun to turn bright white and her skin a pale ghostly color. She ripped the goggles from her face revealing that her eyes had been turned a blank slate of white, but her vision was far from gone. It had been enhanced. The blue serum began to glow as it interacted with the blood line hidden within her DNA by the arrival in Omniverse. Her veins and arteries lit up faintly with a blue light as she crawled on the dungeon floor letting loose scream after scream of agony. Her body was literally being given thousands of years of combat training and conditioning in a matter of minutes. Burnt flesh fell from her naked body as tribal tattoos and markings seared themselves into her torso and along her bosom. She looked back at Jorgan who took a step back in caution. Her tattoos had spread to her face with a single scar looking black line crossing vertically across each eye. Pink energy lit up over each and eye as she finally managed to stand, but it was to no avail. The serum moved to strengthen her body and reflexes; her muscles were being torn from every point and then immediately healed and torn again. Trixie felt her mind breaking apart with images of combat, of death, and of war. She didn’t know how long she could bare the pain.
“She’ll be entering the final stage soon. Ready yourselves.” Jorgan shouted to his soldiers.
As Beatrix stood up and cried out in pain the blue serum stained her white skin as it fell down her cheeks instead of tears. It ran out of her mouth as he doubled over and grunted, fighting the muscular and skeletal pain. As Trixie was just about ready to check out and give up she felt another being touch her fractured mind.
“Nova…”
With renewed strength Trixie bellowed loudly as if unleashing her inner power. The floor beneath her quaked as her force power pushed outward. The walls cracked and Jorgan and his demon soldiers were thrown against the stone. In a blinding flash of pink energy that scorched everything around her Trixie’s body assimilated the last of the demonic serum and the pain magically vanished. From within the pink energy stood the drastically changed Zulenka. Jorgan smiled with pride as he clasped a spiked slave collar onto Beatrix’s neck just as she passed out.
Belial’s new soldier was ready.
Placing a stained boot to the skewered corpse she pulled the bladed weapon out and through blood stained hair narrowed her eyes on the new form of Yennefer Von Markham.
“My my, Beatrix. Such anger. My lord will be pleased to know that you have fight in you, but like all the others you will learn that this is not a realm where you have ANY power.” Yennefer giggled.
She was no longer a human. Yennefer was now a scantily clad succubus. Her hair was still black, but was tied into a loose ponytail instead of a bun. She wore a loose black robe adorned with red stitching that was cut up around her breasts to show off their size and nipples, which were pierced. With a snap of her fingers the guards reassembled themselves and the polearm Trixie was wielding burst into shadow energy. Without her knowledge three more guards had appeared behind her. A sharp blow to the back of the head immediately made the mistress groggy and puke up blood from some internal injury. As the thick crimson liquid ran down her chin and onto her armor she felt her hands being bound above her head by chain. Throwing the chain over a hoop on the ceiling the demon guards hoisted Beatrix off the ground. Taking the blunt ends of their swords the demons broke both the mistress’ femur and tibia of each leg. Shrieking in pain as the bones were crudely damaged her jaw was met with a fist that filled her mouth with blood. Choking through the crimson fluid Trixie’s eyes were wide with pain and her breathing labored.
“You have no idea what real pain is, Trixie.” The succubus baited.
With a clap of her hands Yennefer dismissed the guards and a harem of female servants entered in their place. The dungeon was damp and blood stained yet produced no noticeable smell. It was a room designed for the torture of one person constructed of red looking brick that gave off a dark red glow. Red waxed candles lit the room from sconces on the wall and by the door.
As Yennefer watched, the female servants stripped Trixie of her armor with no remorse for her injuries. They tore and ripped at the broken and stained armor that Nova had given her. With a grunt of pain they ripped off the bicep armor that had been melted onto her skin. Fresh blood ran from the newly opened burn. One of the servants took out a straight razor and held it to Trixie’s throat, gripping her long red hair she pulled the mistress’ head back. Another servant cut the bra and panties from their new captive slave and tossed them into the pile of her previous clothing. Pulling tight on Trixie’s hair one of the servants removed a blade from her robe and hacked away at the previous long hair that adorned the mistress’ head. Eyeballing it she made it shoulder length. The group of female servants inspected every inch of Beatrix’s body up close. Already Trixie’s skin was heavily bruised from the series of broken bones that used to be her legs. Propping the mistress up the servants opened the Sith’s left leg exposing her crotch to Yennefer.
“Belial will definitely be pleased. Now mark her and leave us.” Yennefer said with a smile.
Using shadow energy one of the servants pressed a finger to the left inner thigh of their new captive. Trixie pulled on her restraints and unleashed a blood curdling scream of pain as the tattoo of a serial number slowly burned itself into her thigh. Her scream of agony was interrupted by a punch to the gut. Coughing blood onto the floor the servants abruptly let Trixie fall limp against the chains that bound her to the ceiling. With a sickening crack some of the bones in her legs broke further.
“What...do you...wa-” Her sentence was interrupted by the snap of a whip and the tearing of the flesh on her stomach. Fresh blood seeped down her abdomen and between her legs.
“You are now Prisoner 11256. That is your name, slave. You are property of my Lord Tyrant Belial of the Underverse. You shall speak only when spoken to.” Yennefer recoiled her whip with a grin.
“Go fuck yourself Yennefer.”
Trixie cried out as another lash of the whip made itself across her breasts.
“Learn your place, slave. I’ve already communed with our Lord.”
Trixie spit blood onto Yennfer’s robe. “Your Lord, asshole. Not mine.” She snarled back defiantly.
With a crack and shriek from Trixie the succubus’ whip raked the flesh of the red head.
A thunderous crash brought the Sith to attention as a large, mostly muscular and part skeletal, demon wearing a green cloak came crashing through the dungeon door.
“Yennefer you are required elsewhere. The conditioning of this one has been left to me.”
Though her vision blurred from pain and various other fluids Trixie could see the noticeable shock on the female demons face.
“Jorgan she isn’t built to survive your method. No female has ever made it out of your conditioning alive with their sanity intact.” She argued.
The brute looking demon shook his head. “Belial’s orders. He wants me to test the new pit fighter serum.”
“Tch. Waste of a perfectly good pussy.” Yennefer shook her head and left the room without further argument.
To replace her previous treatment came a new host of demons. Drawing a sword Jorgan sliced Trixie loose from the ceiling, but it came at the cost of her hands. With a shriek of terror the mistress fell onto her shattered legs and squirmed to get away. Two brutes lifted her onto a nearby rack and strapped her into the table. Rotating the bottom rung Jorgan pulled her injured legs tight before taking his cleaver to each thigh. Sprays of blood showered over the floor as he hacked through each bone. Trixie’s consciousness failed her moments after the second leg slid from her person and to the floor.
***
She awoke as if from a nightmare strapped to the same table. However her hands and legs were still intact; even further every injury she had upon Jorgan’s arrival was gone with nothing to show for it, but the scars littering her body.
“Had it been a hallucination? What the fuck is this place and what is going on?”
“To answer your question, slave Prime. You are being conditioned to fight in the slave pits for Lord Belial. He’s taking a risk on you, because of some other new contender that has recently arrived. Or so our spies report. I am Jorgan. I oversee the male slave Primes and their training, but since our Lord wants something to beat the competition he sent me here to condition you.”
He placed a rubber gag into Trixie’s mouth and strapped it to the table, holding her head down.
“That is all I offer and all you will know, prisoner 11256.”
Jorgan grinned and snapped his fingers. From within a cloud of shadow energy came an overhead injection apparatus stained black with the blood from previous slaves. From what Trixie could make out there were twelve needles hovering over various points of her body. One for each eye, one just above each breast, one for each bicep, two for her abdomen, one for each thigh, and two that would end up between her toes. A henchman threw a strap over the table and tightened Trixie to the table, mounting her arms and legs into the proper positions. Jorgan took a device designed like a pair of goggles from above the mistress’ head. As he fashioned them to her face she could feel tiny metal claws grabbing hold of her eyelids and pulling them open. Trixie could see the demons around her loading vials of blue serum labeled ‘Nephalem A4’ into each syringe.
“Double dose, right?” Jorgan asked one of his nearby henchman who nodded. Looking over his test subjects naked body he smiled. “Well prisoner 11256. This is it. Suffer well.”
Jorgan pulled a lever next to the table and the injection apparatus positioned itself. A red light lit up and with a pinch on the side of her neck she felt the ability to move her body be taken away, but the feeling of pain and touch remain.
“Oh shit. Why is this happening!?”
A yellow light lit up and the syringes moved inches away from Trixie’s body. With a single beep and a green light the needles plunged themselves into her body and her eyes. The pain was indescribable. As soon as the syringes had drained one vial they were quickly refilled with a second dose and another stream of blue liquid was pumped into the restrained dark side user. As soon as the last drop was drained the needles were removed. Almost immediately the puncture wounds were taped up with a special black bandage by Jorgans lackeys. Without warning Trixie broke free from her restraints and regained control of her body. She screamed in agony as her body began to be irrevocably altered.
The mistress’ hair had begun to turn bright white and her skin a pale ghostly color. She ripped the goggles from her face revealing that her eyes had been turned a blank slate of white, but her vision was far from gone. It had been enhanced. The blue serum began to glow as it interacted with the blood line hidden within her DNA by the arrival in Omniverse. Her veins and arteries lit up faintly with a blue light as she crawled on the dungeon floor letting loose scream after scream of agony. Her body was literally being given thousands of years of combat training and conditioning in a matter of minutes. Burnt flesh fell from her naked body as tribal tattoos and markings seared themselves into her torso and along her bosom. She looked back at Jorgan who took a step back in caution. Her tattoos had spread to her face with a single scar looking black line crossing vertically across each eye. Pink energy lit up over each and eye as she finally managed to stand, but it was to no avail. The serum moved to strengthen her body and reflexes; her muscles were being torn from every point and then immediately healed and torn again. Trixie felt her mind breaking apart with images of combat, of death, and of war. She didn’t know how long she could bare the pain.
“She’ll be entering the final stage soon. Ready yourselves.” Jorgan shouted to his soldiers.
As Beatrix stood up and cried out in pain the blue serum stained her white skin as it fell down her cheeks instead of tears. It ran out of her mouth as he doubled over and grunted, fighting the muscular and skeletal pain. As Trixie was just about ready to check out and give up she felt another being touch her fractured mind.
“Nova…”
With renewed strength Trixie bellowed loudly as if unleashing her inner power. The floor beneath her quaked as her force power pushed outward. The walls cracked and Jorgan and his demon soldiers were thrown against the stone. In a blinding flash of pink energy that scorched everything around her Trixie’s body assimilated the last of the demonic serum and the pain magically vanished. From within the pink energy stood the drastically changed Zulenka. Jorgan smiled with pride as he clasped a spiked slave collar onto Beatrix’s neck just as she passed out.
Belial’s new soldier was ready.
![[Image: trixiesig2018.png]](http://www.cytokineindustries.com/chevereto/images/2018/06/12/trixiesig2018.png)