The Corruption of Lazuli (Part I)

At the same time that Akira Maximilian had achieved his greatest triumph in Nirvana thus far, the once-proud warrior Lazuli was being brought to her lowest point.

Her descent began as soon as she was stripped and violated by the captive Squell Cattle and their Nandi masters. From there, being used as a literal Human cock-sleeve for hours, by the giant [Level 38] [Nandi Captain] that had emerged: forcibly penetrated by his giant, [Level 38] [Warty Cock], with rusty iron chains passing over his shoulders, like suspenders, attached to and holding her arms back against his huge gut. 

A blindfold was pulled over her tear-filled eyes, and a gag wedged firmly into her mouth to muffle her screams.

Only when she finally fainted from exhaustion, was she relieved of her new duty and promptly discarded into a prison cell; made to lay in a bed of damp straw, where rats freely nibbled at the softest parts of her bare skin. Treated worse than even the Cattle Squell.

But that was only the beginning. The warmup act, precluding the main event that was to come. Because, unbeknownst to Lazuli, this initial treatment was specially designed to break her mind and spirit. Orchestrated by an unseen hand, of one who was not content to leave her rotting in that dark, dingy basement, where all the dirty livestock was kept…

However, it was just like with a horse: A proud woman such as Lazuli needed to be broken, first. That she may be taught to respect and adhere to her new master.

Later she awoke, on that first night of captivity, staring into the pitch black.

Inside, she felt hollow. Lifeless. Like a broken toy after it was tossed aside. She was a [Level 18], so of course, she knew Nirvana was a cruel world. But it had always been a case of her viewing its dark depravities from the outside—never as the victim. Never as the crying damsel that needed rescue.

A shattering thought crossed her mind, that 'perhaps my good fortune, up until now, has provided me a false sense of security.'

The fact that she could so easily be destroyed, locked into such a hellish existence with seemingly no hope of escape; despite all her rigorous training and sincere effort to be a stand-out hero, in such a sinful world, meant…

'It was all completely pointless.'

Her entire existence as a lady knight had been a joke from the start, and this was the punchline:

'Becoming a prop...for one's amusement.'

She blushed when she unconsciously came at the mere thought; quickly crossing her thighs and glancing around, as if mindful that others might see. Even though she was alone, in a space with no source of light to speak of besides. 

It was the first chink to appear in the final piece of armor she had remaining:

Her pride.

For the following day, she was subjected to a new soul-crushing torment.

Brought to her hands and knees, she would be forced to walk through the dungeon on all fours with a [Nandi Dogwalker] taking her by the leash. A low-leveled enemy, whom she could most likely defeat one-versus-one even with her bare hands, exerting complete control over her: kicking her down when he felt like it, having her drink and eat out of the disgusting Squell troughs, stomping his foot down on her until she barked loudly as he commanded.

Lazuli thought about it more while lying awake in her cell that night, feeling an irrepressible warm rumbling within her chest.

'I'm being treated like an animal, by creatures even lower than filth…'

She came again. Only in this instance, she did not attempt to "hide" it.

On the third day, she was passed around among the [Nandi Soldiers] to be gently caressed and groped, kissed and beaten and spat on, fingered and raped at their behest. An intoxicating combination of pleasure and pain, which drove her wild.

Lazuli had heard some time ago that sex felt a million times better in Nirvana, but before then had never tested it herself.

Now, she had found her answer, as later that night she didn't think at all. She only furiously masturbated, even despite how sore she felt, letting the warm nectar squirt out unto her fingertips without care. All while her eyes were rolled back, and her tongue was hanging out—like the worthless bitch she'd been treated as.

After only three days, Lazuli was ready to be brought before her new master. Although, it wasn't until the sixth day that she was transported—whilst functioning as the [Nandi Captain's] cock-sleeve once more, flanked by a pair of [Soldier Nandi]—beyond the main torture room; down a series of corridors that lead to a spiraling, dimly lit stairwell; culminating in a long, bitterly cold chamber whose walls were held with enormous, thick pillars composed entirely of bones. 

There, across a long emerald green carpet, at the farthest end of the chamber an obscured presence resided upon a throne compiled of yet more bones; bordered at his back by braziers that dimly flickered with sinister, otherworldly purple blazes.

The procession stopped in front of him.

"Your majesty," the soldiers greeted with a bow; as the Captain, for his perceived lack of speech, merely offered a pig-like grunt. "We have the whore, as requested."

"Show me her face," the presence ordered in a dominant, regal tone.

"Yes, your majesty."

At once, the [Soldier Nandi] each tore away her blindfold and gag, respectively, to reveal the same pathetic, tongue-hanging look she bore on the night she crumbled.

A slight, amused grin could be glimpsed upon the king's face.

"Very good. You shall leave her with me."

"Lord Ravana!" The soldiers answered in unison, giving their salutes.

They then turned, and, following some minor strain, yanked Lazuli free of the captain's cock that thoroughly oozed with her drooling gel. Brusquely throwing her, face-down, onto the hard tiled floor.

A moment passed, in silence, during which she did not stir or make a move to rise. Her dirt-smeared and bruised, rat-bite mark covered pink-white and smooth, slender form stood out starkly against the rough, dark surroundings. Her long blonde hair was unwashed, fallen in a messy tangle around her. Come was continuing to squirt out, nonstop, from between her thighs.

"What a beautiful sight," remarked Lord Ravana, with a cold snicker. "I can already tell you'll make for a fine wife."

Hearing this, Lazuli raised her head.

"W-wife?" she mumbled in a raspy, quiet voice that had faded with disuse.

He waved his hand, lifting her in the air before him by the scruff of her neck through some unknowable force of her magic.

"Tssk tssk. My subjects have, perhaps, been a bit excessive in their treatment of you," he said innocently, as he swirled his fingers to cause her to rotate about in the air, examining all the various wounds she'd been afflicted with. 

"However, that ends today."

By wielding his arcane powers, through just his thoughts and gestures with his hand: the wicked King Ravana conjured a number of levitating wisps, formed from selections of bone drawn from the surrounding architecture, as well as the strange purple fire lighting the torches at his back. Through which, he was able to message or surveil his subjects from the recesses of his throne room.

Lazuli watched in awe as he spawned several and sent them loose, sensing the power and authority he exuded. In the dark, viewing glimpses of his handsome, strong face, with piercing dark eyes and a shadowy cowl of slicked-back hair.

'I'm...going to become this man's queen.'

Without a doubt, she could ascertain that he was in sole charge of this vile place. Thus, it was surely by his whims that the Squell were being gathered up and slaughtered, for whatever nefarious purposes he had in mind. A profoundly evil person, by every stretch of the imagination, whom the lionhearted Lazuli should have immediately loathed and opposed. But she didn't.

Instead, a sickening smile spread across her lips.

"Treat me tenderly, my Lord."

And treat her tenderly, he did: The wisps he was sending out being to summon a retinue of collared, bikini-clad servant girls; all with [Levels] in the negative range, giving them a childlike appearance; all of them female Nandi players, which looked like humans but with cow ears and stubby horns, furry hooved legs, and cow tails.

"Make your new Queen spotless, get her dressed, and bring her to the dining hall."

"Yes, Lord Ravana," a chorus replied.

"And once she's become acclimated to her new life here, you'll take orders from her as well as me—is that clear?"

"Yes, Lord Ravana."

"You will lick the toes of her feet if she so bids you."

Lazuli came again, with a startled gasp. Prompting Ravana to glance to the side at her, eyebrow raised, as she meekly averted her gaze—afraid he'd noticed. 

In any case, he didn't say anything. But still gave a suggestive smirk.

"Take her to the bath," he quietly said.

Lazuli was led by the girl servants down a carpeted corridor connected to the throne room, which was previously concealed behind a red curtain. Taken by them to a lavish, porcelain white bathroom, in front of a tub with mysteriously sparkly clear water, into which she was persuaded by their expectant stares. Then, assaulted by their dainty, cloth-wielding hands that scrubbed with no regard for her modesty, clearing away the days' worth of accumulated grime and sweat and other bodily fluids; her damaged and ruptured skin simultaneously being restored to an unblemished, smooth state.

When the task was done, and the girls had dried her off with a towel, she was dressed in a [Dark Empress Bikini]: composed of a high-waisted thin black thong strap; polished white bone jewelry necklaces and neck bracelets, a bone crown tiara beset with shimmering gemstones, with hoop earrings and thigh bracelets.

She examined her reflection in a tall mirror, from multiple angles. 

No top. No shoes. So much bare skin.

It was titillating to see the transition: Her incredible fall from glory, so clearly portrayed. Gone from a virtuous warrior to one who only exists to please the worst kind of slime creatures in Nirvana, to the trophy woman of a sinful king.

'I won't be able to fight for justice ever again, wearing something like this…

'My spirit is forever tarnished.'

She came.

King Ravana was already in the grand dining hall waiting for her, rising from his throne-like seat at the head of the table when she was escorted inside by the girl servants.

"My lady," he said with a sinister grin as he bowed, taking her delicate hand in his and kissing it. "You look ravishing."

'So cheesy,' Lazuli smirked, thinking.

The servants pulled out a chair adjacent to Ravana for her to sit, from where she stared at him with a coy grin while he looked back, maintaining that same sinister grin with the smoldering, dark eyes. His skin was dyed an odd, pale shade of blue she noticed when viewing him for the first time under neutral lighting.

Though, with his dashing looks, she was still intrigued enough to pick his brain.

"You're wine-and-dining me…"—she leaned with her elbows propped on the table, her chin resting in her palms—" after all that you put me through."

"Because," he began to say, pausing with his perfect white teeth showing.

"You're not the first."

"First what?"

"Cocksure brat to wander into my operation, with noble ambitions," he quickly replied with a slight rise in his voice, followed by a chuckle. "They almost all went down the same way, too. Never predicting that the livestock would turn against them."

"'Livestock.' You mean, the—"

"Squell, yes. Because that is what their entire species is: mere cattle."

Lazuli shrunk at his cold response. On the face of it, such a held view was so blatantly appalling that it beggared belief. And yet, she couldn't muster any strong reaction to it.

However, Lazuli did come again though.

Her curiosity began to stray into dark places...

"Tell me about...the other heroes."

"Would-be heroes," he corrected, with a raised grin.

"What happened to them?"

He leaned back in his chair, laughing under his breath as he let out a prolonged exhale.

"Most? Dead. But fun while they lasted."

Lazuli shifted in her seat, anxious. "How'd they die?"

"Well, it goes without saying that I sent the Squells to be fattened and cooked with the rest of them," he answered, as plainly and nonchalantly as though he'd just been questioned about the weather. "The rest, I made into servants"—he waved his arm at the girl servants standing around the room, devilishly smiling—"some...I tried as wives." He snickered. "Many of whom eventually attempted escape, with a few even finding it: whether through death, or daring flight. While others were foolish enough to make attempts on my life."

Lazuli bristled, her voice falling to an intense whisper. "So what makes me any different? Who's to say that I won't also try to kill you? And perhaps, even succeed."

"That's obvious"—he sat upright; blankly staring straight forward across the length of the table, as he held out an empty jewel-encrusted goblet at his side—"those would-be heroes I mentioned: they weren't half as wicked a wretch as you truly are."

Lazuli's face turned hot at this shocking reveal, her stomach turned nauseous.

And with this, she couldn't stop coming.

Embarrassed, she gingerly raised her arm to reach for one of the fine silk napkins on the table but was stopped, by Ravana's lightly placed hand upon her wrist.

"You have a cute habit of wetting yourself," he said. "I think it speaks to something."

Lazuli neither wished to know how he knew this, or why he thought it meant something, so she chose to remain silent. She only stared around at her surroundings in perplexity, just as the girl-servants were returning with the food and drink: served across several silver platters.

The main dish was what looked to be a grilled ham steak, although different in its smell and observable texture, as she watched Ravana cut into it with a knife.

"Here. Try a bite," he said, showing her a forkful of the meat.

Lazuli stared at it a bit, then at Ravana.

His expression—one of playful mischief—told her what she already knew.

She bit off the piece of meat. Chewed it.

"It's good," she simply said.

To which Ravana gave a knowing smirk before turning away, to cut off more. "Excellent."

And Lazuli came.