Update 22: Domesticated Human
- Location
- Back in the 90s (In a very famous TV show)
- Pronouns
- She/Her/Ve/Ver
You are ignoring content by this member.
Show ignored content
The devil who stood above her with a heeled leather boot on her stomach had horns like a bison and skin that sat on the border between yellow-orange and red with a flamboyant hand confidently on the red side. The bedroom was perfect, small but more than functional, save for the red summoning circle that had been painted on the wood floor. It was ornate, ringed with runes and inscriptions of diabolic lore in Latin and Greek. This was the Devil's room, now, the Devil's house.
"You lost, didn't ya?" the demoness asked as she drove the toe of her boot down against Peridot O. Diamond's stomach. The South had always been fond of two things: wrestling and devilry. Peridot was good at the former, and for the first time after the revolution felt safe in South Carolina. The demoness, Satan in the body of Dakota Eckhart, was more than happy with the latter. It made sense, Peridot thought, that Satan spoke with a Southern accent. Not the Newscaster American tone that Peridot used, but that of a full, luxurious Southern Belle.
Black acrylic nails traced their way across Peridot's face like claws. "We lost," Peridot confirmed, her shaved head looking awfully boring compared to the perfect curls of Satan. The Devil knew what bodies to make Hers. "We lost, and there's nothing we can do about it," she said. She stared upon the majesty of Satan's form, Her blonde hair dyed deepest black. The hypnotic treatments had worked, the triggers had been implanted, and Peridot saw her putrid beauty and seductive cruelty manifest in aura. At least, she thought she saw it.
She knew, knew deep in her heart, that Satan owned her, that she was Satan's pet, that after she botched John Cena's Last Match she had no place in the world of wrestling. All she had was Satan, the Devil, the woman who a childhood of anti-autistic judgment she had been taught to fear. All she had was the monster with those ink-black eyes, and that monster had her. It had been days of hypnosis, listening to recordings of her dark mistress before bed and upon waking up for a year on end. She had been preparing to leave Spartakiade Wrestling, and the time had finally come.
She wore a heavy black collar made of leather and sin, her large round glasses the only other article of clothing she had been permitted to wear. "Hey, pet, do you see your bowl?" Satan asked, taking her boot off of Peridot's chest. Regrettably, this meant that Peridot could no longer stare up her skirt with the look of a deer about to be turned into less-than-edible venison. Peridot nodded, her glassy eyes demonstrating it.
"Go to your bowl and eat your dinner."
Peridot crawled along the floor, only able to walk if Satan commanded it. Perhaps Dakota Eckhart wore elaborate makeup. Perhaps Peridot had been hypnotized to force herself to see a devil where there stood a woman. Either way, regardless of what Dakota Eckhart wore or did, from now onward Peridot would only see her as her Satan, Mistress, Goddess, and Beast. From now until death, Peridot was a servant of the Devil. It had all been negotiated. It was cultplay.
The very idea buzzed in her like a happy bee pollinating a great flower's cock. She bent her head down and started to eat the dry cereal and water out of the bowl as if she were tasting a steak worthy of her Mistress of Hell. She finished, gulping and chewing like an animal.
"Now, pet, tell me two things."
"Yes, Mistress?" Peridot asked, looking up at Satan like a dog.
"First, how did we get to this state?" Satan asked. "Second, what's your name?"
Peridot smiled like an eager puppy as she recited the backstory that had been programmed into her head. "I tried to summon you, for something petty and stupid. You domesticated me. I'm an example that when Earth and Hell fight, Earth'll always lose?"
"Good girl. Now, tell Mommy what your name is."
"Peridot Onyx Diamond?" Peridot asked.
Satan slapped her, just as Peridot had agreed before the hypnotic treatments. She didn't have a job now. She didn't have anything in her life but being property of Satan Incarnate. She couldn't be happier. "Wrong!" Satan said. "Given our recent marriage, I'd say that your name's just Peridot Brimstone. Your parents' frankly absurd hippie gemstone thing makes for a decent enough naming scheme. That's what the law says, and that's what you are."
"Of course, Princess of Darkness. Peridot Brimstone." Peridot looked upon the Devil. If you were going to Hell anyway, why not do it as the devil's pet or something equally pleasantly perverse? "All I know how to do is serve you," she said. It wasn't an exaggeration.
"Good girl," Satan purred, and Peridot felt like one.
"You lost, didn't ya?" the demoness asked as she drove the toe of her boot down against Peridot O. Diamond's stomach. The South had always been fond of two things: wrestling and devilry. Peridot was good at the former, and for the first time after the revolution felt safe in South Carolina. The demoness, Satan in the body of Dakota Eckhart, was more than happy with the latter. It made sense, Peridot thought, that Satan spoke with a Southern accent. Not the Newscaster American tone that Peridot used, but that of a full, luxurious Southern Belle.
Black acrylic nails traced their way across Peridot's face like claws. "We lost," Peridot confirmed, her shaved head looking awfully boring compared to the perfect curls of Satan. The Devil knew what bodies to make Hers. "We lost, and there's nothing we can do about it," she said. She stared upon the majesty of Satan's form, Her blonde hair dyed deepest black. The hypnotic treatments had worked, the triggers had been implanted, and Peridot saw her putrid beauty and seductive cruelty manifest in aura. At least, she thought she saw it.
She knew, knew deep in her heart, that Satan owned her, that she was Satan's pet, that after she botched John Cena's Last Match she had no place in the world of wrestling. All she had was Satan, the Devil, the woman who a childhood of anti-autistic judgment she had been taught to fear. All she had was the monster with those ink-black eyes, and that monster had her. It had been days of hypnosis, listening to recordings of her dark mistress before bed and upon waking up for a year on end. She had been preparing to leave Spartakiade Wrestling, and the time had finally come.
She wore a heavy black collar made of leather and sin, her large round glasses the only other article of clothing she had been permitted to wear. "Hey, pet, do you see your bowl?" Satan asked, taking her boot off of Peridot's chest. Regrettably, this meant that Peridot could no longer stare up her skirt with the look of a deer about to be turned into less-than-edible venison. Peridot nodded, her glassy eyes demonstrating it.
"Go to your bowl and eat your dinner."
Peridot crawled along the floor, only able to walk if Satan commanded it. Perhaps Dakota Eckhart wore elaborate makeup. Perhaps Peridot had been hypnotized to force herself to see a devil where there stood a woman. Either way, regardless of what Dakota Eckhart wore or did, from now onward Peridot would only see her as her Satan, Mistress, Goddess, and Beast. From now until death, Peridot was a servant of the Devil. It had all been negotiated. It was cultplay.
The very idea buzzed in her like a happy bee pollinating a great flower's cock. She bent her head down and started to eat the dry cereal and water out of the bowl as if she were tasting a steak worthy of her Mistress of Hell. She finished, gulping and chewing like an animal.
"Now, pet, tell me two things."
"Yes, Mistress?" Peridot asked, looking up at Satan like a dog.
"First, how did we get to this state?" Satan asked. "Second, what's your name?"
Peridot smiled like an eager puppy as she recited the backstory that had been programmed into her head. "I tried to summon you, for something petty and stupid. You domesticated me. I'm an example that when Earth and Hell fight, Earth'll always lose?"
"Good girl. Now, tell Mommy what your name is."
"Peridot Onyx Diamond?" Peridot asked.
Satan slapped her, just as Peridot had agreed before the hypnotic treatments. She didn't have a job now. She didn't have anything in her life but being property of Satan Incarnate. She couldn't be happier. "Wrong!" Satan said. "Given our recent marriage, I'd say that your name's just Peridot Brimstone. Your parents' frankly absurd hippie gemstone thing makes for a decent enough naming scheme. That's what the law says, and that's what you are."
"Of course, Princess of Darkness. Peridot Brimstone." Peridot looked upon the Devil. If you were going to Hell anyway, why not do it as the devil's pet or something equally pleasantly perverse? "All I know how to do is serve you," she said. It wasn't an exaggeration.
"Good girl," Satan purred, and Peridot felt like one.
