Chapter Text
Assist in my singing, O Muses! This tale is a bitterness on the storyteller’s tongue. Sing, O Muses, the story of a last-born daughter who has her father’s throne to fill! A mother to find. The repetition of the father’s sins in almost necessary to strike a chthonic balance when needed most but is not wanted. An upheaval in the cosmos, O Muses! May I sing the song of Kore!
Father is gone. Hades has vacated zir throne. Though I know it was a forced action by powers above me, it makes me no less incensed. This was never meant to fall on my shoulders, yet fall it must.
I have seen my elder siblings very sparsely since my inception and Persephone fled the underworld, leaving me to be raised solely by my father. No reason was ever given as to why. There is no blame I lay at Persephone’s feet, though I do wish she had taken me with her. She had taken my elder brother, after all, the middlest child. He’d already earned his adult name, and he was such a momma’s boy. Our older sister, the eldest of us, went out on her own, travelling wherever she pleased. To the surface, out into the underworld wastes under chthonic cloaked darkness, no one really knows.
The eldest was raised by both our parents equally. My brother had been a momma’s boy, but even he was under Hades’ influence plenty. Things were different for me. Hades oversaw my upbringing entirely by zirself, without zir wife to soothe zir temper or teach kindness.
I had heard tales of Persephone, who I had taken my namesake from. My adult name being her childhood name. My father maybe naming me for zir nostalgia, but at the same time subconsciously marking my place as a young woman, a maiden. Kore. A young version of the mother I had never met.
It is the strangest twist of fate that I am now forced to take my father’s throne when I’m named for my mother. An unfortunate sting of fate that I am not even doing this task well. The underworld is crumbling and in disarray. I had studied under my father for decades in my youth. I was trained for this. And yet... everything is collapsing around me.
“Kore.”
I know the voice calling me, but I still snap, “Lord Kore. Know your place.”
“It is time.” The fury speaks softly, not nearly a display of the harshness I know she can produce. I am sitting on my throne, though I have no lost souls to oversee or decrees to hear. Proper court ended an hour ago. Yet, I am just sitting here. No wonder the fury interrupted me. “Your assistance is needed elsewhere, my lord.”
The sudden subservient words are just a show the fury puts on in my throne room. What she really means is that I need assistance. A very specialized kind of assistance I have tasked my furies with. A task I know they are more than pleased to fulfil. They are furies, after all.
From the throne room, I follow the fury to a room that has never seen proper business conducted. It is my bedroom. My second bedroom, to be more accurate. Here, the business conducted is far more personal than anything to ever grace the throne room.
The darkness I wear melts away the moment I cross the threshold. Not entirely my choice. This room is spelled specifically to remove chthonic shadows. The candles lining the wall make objects cast their own shadows, but chthonic underworld shadows are pervasive, even when not wanted. In this bedroom, I had wanted the oppressive shadows of the underworld gone, to fill the room with the torch light and normal shadows. The spell I cast myself is what strips me of my clothing. A cloak of darkness.
Fury takes full advantage of my vulnerable nudeness. No longer just one fury is beset on me, but three. The other two had waited for me to enter the room.
It is with great pleasure that the furies bind my wrists to the high ceiling until I’m spread out like a flesh canvas for their art. They start with small lacerations, the tip of a knife sinking into my skin that should have been godly but felt more mortal than ever because I cannot stop the whimpering from my throat. I am not sure I will ever be able to withstand Fury’s bite and I cry when they sink their teeth into me. One of them has pointed fangs, but the other two just have teeth far too sharp to play human for long.
The edge of the knife eases my skin open on my belly and my breasts. Godly ichor beads red-gold at the edges of the wounds until the tension breaks and droplets roll down to pool in my navel. I shiver when Fury’s tongue dips into my navel for a taste of my blood. The shivering makes the chains holding me clink together. The moan of Fury at the drop of ichor on her tongue only makes me strain against my bonds even if they are inescapable. No one can escape Fury.
Marks from their bites cover my thighs, and neck, and my shoulders. One of them sank their teeth into the side of my left breast, but I’d been too busy screaming to notice.
That’s the thing about furies. They do not need extreme methods to extract extreme pain. It is the venom in their bites. The bites alone hurt as one might expect, but the venom primes their victims to experience any further pain tenfold. Mortals can rarely stand it. It drives them to horrendous lengths of begging for release. Yet, I am not mortal, so I require more punishment and extra doses of their venom.
The lash against my back does not come down hard enough to draw blood, but the scream from my throat suggests it hurt enough to be a cut down to bone.
I’m in my head again, and not with them. The pain always takes me somewhere else. Fury hates me to be elsewhere when I’m her plaything.
“Focus on your punishment, brat.”
What draws me back into my body, and the pain, is the horribly magnificent contrast to the pain. Pleasure. My clitoris being sucked on by an entity meant to bring pain. It’s pleasure so intense that I’m crying again. They know exactly how to ground my mind back in my body, by teasing me with pain and pleasure until they’ve gotten what they wanted from me.
Just when I feel an orgasm build, a tail is wrapped around my throat and my ragged pants are cut off with a squeeze.
The tail of a fury isn’t thick and bulky like a serpent’s. It’s lithe and twisting. More like a large cat, except there’s no fur. It’s not even particularly scaly or flesh-like. Perhaps closer to molten lava though the burning sensation doesn’t come from actual heat, it’s all mental, and covered in small spines that dig into a victim’s flesh.
I had always been amused as a youth that the tail of a fury and a succubus looked similar. It wasn’t until I was Fury’s willing victim that I realized how different the two were. Yes, these creatures have similar-looking tails, but the sensation is so much different. Succubi tails bring untold pleasure and the spines on the length aren’t sharp enough to cut but enough to add an exciting sensation to the touch. The flared tip of a succubus’ tail always reminded me of a tongue. A smooth muscle that was as sensitive for the succubus as the prey, and it produced a steady supply of lubrication from the tip that had ecstasy-induced toxins if ingested. A romp with a succubus was fun and games for a young god, but they could never match the furies in their intensity.
The sharp spines of a fury’s tail grabbed at the skin but not quite deep enough to draw ichor out. Thousands of small needles scratching the surface. While the tip of the fury’s tail had similar tongue-like qualities as a succubus’, it was sensitive for hunter and prey and was a smooth, dexterous muscle, furies didn’t make ecstasy-inducing lubrication. Not on their own, at least.
There was no way to breathe with Fury’s tail wrapped around my throat and squeezing, but gods didn’t need to breathe. Or, we wouldn’t die without air. Still, a being so used to breathing still received adverse side effects from not getting their anticipated air. My skin burned where the tail made contact, both from the inherent idea of its heat but also the spines in my flesh. The tail squeezed tighter and darkness crept into the edges of my vision. I couldn’t even scream or moan anymore while the furies sucked on my clit and licked the blood from the bite marks they’d left.
Then, my mouth was pried open and Fury was inside of me. Each stroke of the tail in and out of my mouth made me gag but I could still hardly breath with the rest of the tail’s length squeezing my throat. Wherever the tail touched in my mouth burned. I was only grateful that the tip of a fury’s tail had softer spines. I felt them scratch against my cheeks and tongue, but they didn’t cut me open. The back of my throat burned as the tail tried to push itself deeper and deeper into my esophagus. The length of tail around my throat loosened, just barely, but then the tip forced its way down my throat. Around my throat, the tail tightened again, to make my throat tighter for Fury’s pleasure all while it burned me and tears leaked from my eyes.
One of them sighed. Or more than one? Likely the one with her tail down my throat. Their tails were sensitive in a pleasurable sort of way, but they also meant plenty of pain for their victim. The perfect mix for a fury.
I was dizzy and lightheaded from the lack of air, but there was no escaping this. Instead, I helped. I teased my tongue along the tail in my mouth. Another satisfying moan from my captor. Each brush of my tongue burned the appendage though I knew the flesh was intact.
There was a cooing next to my ear, though I couldn’t make out the words. I’m not certain it was a word. All I could do was accept the fury into the back of my throat.
Then came the worst of it.
A bite on my thigh. Searing pain that only increased with the venom.
The mouth on my clit replaced with the tip of a tail. Even the softer spines made the sensitive and engorged flesh sting, but the heat burned.
One of them ran their fingers through my hair. Petting me. Making me pretty and brushing any stray strands from my face.
At least this time they allowed some of my dignity to remain intact. Except... a voice whispered in my ear, “We’ve got to save something for round two with you.”
It was for their own benefit that they didn’t break me all at once.
I choked on the tail in my throat and my throat was squeezed tighter. Tighter. I felt my limbs go completely slack when I lost the ability to hold myself up. The tail pressed to my clit stretched out following the line to the entrance of my pussy and then to my ass. Sharp spines dug into my clit but I couldn’t even sob. The tail helped hold up my slack weight and my folds rubbed against the length of the tail, getting it slick with my traitorous arousal, or possibly my blood.
This was it.
My eyes closed without my command. Darkness took over in my mind.
I was woken when I could breathe again. The tail was still in my throat, thrusting deep inside me, but it was no longer wrapped around my neck. What I made sense of first was the collective moan in the room. Fury was pleased.
Then Fury spilled down my throat.
The tails of furies didn’t create ecstasy-inducing lubrication. They needed to be lubricated by a different source. But when a fury reached her peak mix of pleasure and pain, their venom turned pleasurable and leaked from their tails as well as their teeth. If they bit me while they rode through their orgasm it would feel amazing, but the taste of their pleasure felt even better.
All the pain in my body was converted to pleasure the moment the fury’s essence coated my tongue. Pleasurable enough to be painful, even, with how every part of me felt alight and blazing. But now I wanted this. No longer given to sobbing and attempts of escape, I sucked on the tail in my mouth harder. The tail between my legs became even slicker with my juices as I rubbed my pussy against the appendage hard, spines be damned.
When the tail was ripped from my throat I whined. Fully whined because I so desperately wanted to keep the pleasurable thing inside of me as if it belonged there. Fingers with short nails pressed against my tongue in the tail’s place. I knew in a moment that the fury’s short nails could become talons, but that didn’t stop me from sucking on them.
“That’s all the pleasure you’re getting, godling.”
But I wanted more. I grinded against the tail harder and sucked their fingers more eagerly, but eventually the ecstasy faded and the tail between my legs was burning and sharp and I felt like my cunt was on fire.
The sobs returned in full force once the pain hit.
The tail between my legs withdrew so I couldn’t even pretend to pleasure myself on it.
Then Fury, my Fury, stepped in front of me and grabbed my chin to force me to look up at her through my tear-misted eyes and damp eyelashes.
“Will you do what I want, little virgin?”
I hated when she called me that. Kore was a maiden, and while that might imply virginity, it didn’t have to. Besides, I was not my name, which she knew. She knew I disliked the implications.
Still, I wanted to be free of the pain. I’d had enough and they’ve forced me back into my body where I can’t ignore it. I nodded even though I knew what she wanted.
It would hurt so much I might as well imprison myself in Tartarus with my grandfather Kronos and suffer his fate than agree to Fury’s wishes. But I had the opportunity to earn mercy from Fury.
The torches in the room dimmed and then were snuffed out completely. My own doing. The room’s anti-chthonic shadows spell was kept in the torches. With the torches, the room was filled with shadows far too dark in the already-dark space to be anything other than chthonic energy.
Fury was silent as I did her bidding. The shadows that usually clothed me invaded my body instead, filling me with a darkness that would overflow until something had to give and snap. More and more darkness spilled inside me until I was forced out of my own body and forced to watch as the shadows made a home in my shell.
I was reduced to a spirit form, a shade with no body, except I was godly and not mortal. This separation of form was rarely possible for immortals, and I’d hated how I’d come to learn that I was capable of it. The chthonic energy would allow me to return to my body when I wished. It was simply keeping things warm for my return.
Taking my soulless body is what one might expect from fury, to be forced to watch my body be desecrated so thoroughly. To watch as they inflicted untold pain.
Not my Fury, though. My Fury knew that the way to hurt me most was by keeping me present and aware of my suffering. No, my body wasn’t in danger. My soul was. And damage done to the soul had no bearing on my physical body. It didn’t hurt the same either.
“Look at you, not shy at all, are you?”
I didn’t bother trying to say that this was at her request and I was simply trying to spare myself. The way my soul form dissolved at the edges and became little tendrils of my energy that flirted with the darkness and the furies that hid there wasn’t something I could control. Even I wasn’t completely in control of my soul, the entity that knew my deepest darkness and desires but didn’t have to hide from shame.
I saw the way my energy brushed against Fury and circled her ankles like a pet. It made me sick, and this wasn’t even the worst of it. No, there would be pain.
Voices in my ears, the ears of my physical body, bounced around in my consciousness. They cooed at me. “How do you want to hurt, godling? One who thinks they’re so brave.”
Then the voice that wasn’t fragmented but fully Fury, “Well, little virgin? I’m waiting.”
I hated that this is what hurt me the most. For all the pain I could take over and over, this particular thing was so much more unbearable. A weakness I could hide from everyone except Fury. Fury knew me too well.
If I’d had a body, I would have swallowed. A physical action to try and gather my courage. The soul didn’t care about courage or willpower, not for what this Fury wanted. I needed to give in to my soul, to loosen the metaphorical shackles on myself.
There that energy was again, dancing between Fury’s feet. This time, I let it. The less I resisted the urge, the more energy fled my partially-formed shade-self to join it’s pet-like counterpart around Fury. Until I was the one desperately waiting for Fury’s order at her heels. This was step one of my pain, giving in to something like this. That weakness of mine that was desperate for Fury’s attention.
Then Fury hugged me, like trying to hug a cloud with so much mist evaporating, but she managed. Or they managed. I felt arms all around me, squeezing me further into the space of furies. The closer they hugged, the more my soul was tainted by Fury.
Well, truly Fury was cleansing me. But that didn’t matter because it hurt so fucking much.
Souls shouldn’t normally be messed with like this, couldn’t normally be messed with, but mine could be. Since the moment I knew it could be, I’d been the one to ask Fury to temper me. I’d seen the darkness in my own soul, things I was ashamed of. Fury took that darkness from me in these sessions, but a soul stain like that is never fully gone. The short temper, the need to cause pain and suffering, the desire to take what isn’t freely given, those things always come back. I blame my father, but I refuse to be like the darkest parts of zim. So, I allow Fury’s torture.
Once I’m cleansed, I don’t feel particularly light. More hollow. I urge the shadows out of my body and my soul falls back into the shell. Fury’s bites and cuts still sting, but that pain barely registers compared to my soul that’s trying to stitch itself together.
“Mercy,” I beg with chapped lips. “It’s... too much.”
Once my soul has been touched, I can rarely continue our sessions. Physical pain isn’t worth it after that.
Fury always likes to prolong our sessions. When she releases my chains and spreads her legs, I’m knelt between them. I can’t get enough of the way she tastes once she’s taken my darkness. It’s a flavor that suits her far more than it suits me. The hands of furies on my head guide me in the best rhythm for pleasing Fury and I obey. Fury’s darkness mixed with my own is intoxicating. Enough that, even though I don’t want more pain, I want to be the recipient of her sadistic fantasies. All I have to do is ask, but I can’t bring myself to.
I’m not sure how many furies I taste by the end of the session, but my jaw is sore and all I can taste and smell and think about is Fury on my tongue.
“Have you earned a reward today, godling?”
Have I?
The furies decide for me, which is just as well because my body still feels limp and soulless.
This time, instead of pain, the furies are drowning me in pleasure. They take turns licking and sucking between my legs. Just when I’m about to have an orgasm, the tip of a tail is shoved in my mouth. It barely has time to burn my throat before the taste of pleasure coats my tongue. Fury was as worked up as I was.
My fury-induced pleasure made me enthusiastic in receiving what the furies could offer. Their tails shoved into my pussy and my ass until I was stretched on them. They needed my body to help them finish. Someone was sitting on my face, another bit my neck to drink my ichor and inject me with venom at the same time they came from riding my fingers.
Before the pleasure high faded, Fury pulled away so that the pain wouldn’t set in. I was disappointed by the loss of their tails and teeth, but their hands still trailed over my skin like an anchor.
No more words were needed. Often, Fury seemed to know me better than I knew myself. Fury knew when I was done.
Except, after I was led back to my main bedroom and tucked into the soft sheets, Fury asked me, “Why was it so much worse this time, Kore?”
No longer “little virgin” or the other pet names outside of the session, unless I pissed her off. I don’t really know why I miss it considering how it normally makes me angry.
I sigh and feel it in my bones. I feel my ichor regenerating in my body, godly blood replacing what was lost. “Because I know what I have to do. You’ll have to keep a tighter leash on me.”
“Tell me why.”
“The underworld needs Persephone. The underworld needs Hades. I can fill my father’s position, but—”
“Your mother won’t come willingly,” Fury supplies. Her tongue plays along the edge of one of her fangs.
Her words weren’t how I would have phrased it. I intend to kidnap the goddess of spring, just like my father did. It was effective enough the first time.
My silence is answer enough for her. “That explains the darkness.”
“I hate becoming like Hades. But... I don’t see another option.” My head felt light and the warmth of the bed called to me. “Remember my leash.”
Fury leaves me just as sleep takes me. It’s too much to ask for a single fury to hold me until I wake or stroke my hair or soothe the nightmares I get of my father returning to see I’ve taken zir place and berating me for the horrid state of the underworld. Father would throw me in Tartarus for my shame, I’m certain. Ze would never allow such a blemish to go unchecked. Fury wasn’t for comfort.
As always, I’m alone when I wake. The ruler of the underworld doesn’t have time for lovers, is what I tell myself. Persephone had been a wife to Hades, and a co-ruler. She helped instead of hindered. Casual lovers or romances were a distraction I couldn’t afford. I only made space for Fury because I’d be out of control otherwise. Fury was my necessary evil.
Except, Fury waited outside my door.
“Fury. Now isn’t the time.”
She simply rolls her eyes at me, “I know you do it to sound all cool and aloof or whatever, and some of us don’t mind, but we do have names outside of Us. It’s one thing during a session but—”
“Sorry.” The word comes from my lips without thinking. Not something I say often. Having the darkness expelled from me makes me more agreeable. “I honestly just have a hard time telling you apart, even after all these centuries. I’m normally too battered and bruised to pay attention to faces.”
This was true. Fury was the greater-entity, the force and energy of Fury. But Fury herself was split physically into the furies. The greatest of the furies, the ones who dealt with me with most, were three sisters. Alekto, Tisiphone, and Megaira. I couldn’t remember the names of the lesser dozen furies if I tried, they’d never introduced themselves. It was easier for me to consider them all Fury, just different aspects of her. Each one a slightly different look at Fury’s personality as a whole.
“Which one are you, anyway?” And which one of you insists on calling me little virgin? Is the question I don’t ask.
“I’m offended you can’t tell, godling.” Godling. Not brat. Not little virgin.
“You’d make your lord guess?”
A grin stretched across her face. No fangs. “Why would I turn down the opportunity to punish you for an incorrect guess?”
I should be in my throne room attending shades and not entertaining Fury’s teasing. Before I could walk ahead, her hand pressed against my sternum, between my breasts. When I tried to push through her hold, her short nails became talons that pierced the shadows I wore and pricked my skin.
“I’m here to ask what you plan to do about Persephone. Fury demands punishment for the action you’ll take. You said to tighten your leash, but we don’t know what that means.”
My eyes narrowed at her. I pressed forward to feel her talons sink deeper into my skin. Her mouth held no fangs. “You’re not the one I told about that. And here I thought you claimed to be separate.”
“You don’t even know the difference between us, godling.” The fury scoffed and removed her hand. “We know what the others do so long as we accept the knowledge.”
“I might not know your names.” Even with her hand gone, I didn’t step away from her. No, I took another step toward her. To look her in the eyes, I had to tilt my head, but then my hands were on her jaw and pulling aside her lips to get a look at her teeth. “But only one of you sisters has fangs.”
A snarl built up in her throat. I was only allowed a moment or two of looking at her teeth before her hands slapped mine away and locked around my throat. “Keep your hands away unless you want to lose a finger.”
Even without admitting it, Fury now has her hands around my throat makes my heart race and my ichor to pump harder. I wonder if she’s imagining last night too, how Fury had choked me while she throat fucked me to make my throat tighter for her sake.
“Guess my name now, godling. If you’re right, I’ll let you keep those fingers. And during our next session, I’ll even let you fuck yourself on them.”
She didn’t tell me the consequence would be for being wrong. I’m not truly sure if she’d try to remove my fingers or not. It was more than likely that they would grow back unless something prevented it, but I’m not entirely certain of how angry I’ve truly made her. She wants me to be right. Wants me to know her name. She’d already been offended by me not knowing.
Fury just wants me to know her.
The hands around my throat loosen enough for me to seal my fate with whatever name will pass my lips.
“Alekto?”
Then her hands fall away from my throat entirely. I don’t know how to explain it, but I know I’ve gotten my guess wrong. I’d expected Fury to be, well, furious with me considering how important this had seemed to her. Or, to this version of her. The threat to take my fingers wasn’t entirely unsubstantiated. And yet, she allows me to stand before her, looking up into her eyes without feeling a lick of pain.
In a strange turn of events, I’m furious for her lack of anger.
“I was wrong, wasn’t I? Where’s my punishment?” Even if I’m not particularly in the mood for a session or pain, it felt so un-Fury like to see her... despondent almost.
She shakes her head and steps away from me.
Fury crawled up the inside of my throat and I felt her talons tearing at my vocal cords. Her energy, not one of her physical aspects. The fury before me refused to inflict punishment, but I was enacting it on myself at Fury’s whim. Or maybe it was guilt I felt.
“Stay!” My shout seemed to echo back at me, bouncing off the underworld palace’s halls even if I knew our halls didn’t echo. The shadows absorbed the sound. On the inside I could swear I felt my ribs crack and my breathing grew ragged. I didn’t need to breathe, but a pained breath only panicked me. “Give me my punishment.”
In the space of a pained breath, she’d moved further away. I stride toward her as fast as I can without running. When I reach for her hand, I miss and grab the edge of her shirt. It’s more substantial than the shadows I wear.
Now that I’ve caught up to her, I thrust my hand into her face again. I pry her soft lips open with my fingers. Her sharp teeth scratch my skin as I shove my fingers through the small gap that her surprise leaves me.
“My punishment. Take them.” That is what she’d threatened, after all. To take off my fingers. Her teeth were sharp enough to do the work.
Yet her teeth didn’t bite down on the fingers in her mouth. Her jaw was tense but unmoving.
“I was wrong and the punishment agreed. Do it.”
Hot tears trail down my cheeks. They feel scorching as I try to press up on her lower jaw to ensure her bite but the tension in her jaw is too much for even me to move.
At any other moment I might have gotten satisfaction from the fury mumbling the word “no” around my fingers. I feel her tongue pulsate but she keeps her jaw locked. I still understand the word plenty. She’s disagreeing with me.
“No.” She mumbles the word again.
“Why aren’t you furious with me?” I’m shouting. I feel the extra work my lungs do to ensure my voice is loud, but it wavers instead of staying strong.
Her hand around mine removes the obstruction from her mouth. “The punishment isn’t deserved. I’ll still punish you for the name, but the fingers were never a serious threat, godling. That punishment doesn’t fit the crime.”
I haven’t been able to stop the hot tears, so I accept the way they roll down my cheeks.
“There’s no use in punishing you when you’ve just been purged of darkness, godling. Your soul is too soft to toy with.”
She means that I’m too soft. There’s no fun in abusing what’s already broken.
I catch the way her eyes roll. Maybe she knows my thoughts. “We still need to talk about your plans for your mother. Fury wants to help.”
“Just so you have another thing to punish me for.”
“Perhaps. But we still wish for your success. This is our home too.” She drops her hands from me and steps away again. “We’ll discuss it later.”
“Wait.” I call out to her, but my voice is still weak. She still stops, but there’s a nervous energy in her body that suggests she wants to run from me. “How can I know which you are without being told?”
“Telling you would be too easy. If you were right, I wouldn’t be able to hold my resentment against you for not knowing.”
A grudge. Enduring resentment.
She’s out of sight before I can tell her that I know.
It will be a bigger feat for me to use the name at the right time than simply knowing the name. Two of the sister furies are fangless and I’m not sure how to tell them apart. But now I know that one of the fangless is Megaira. She calls me godling.
Megaira is the sister fury most-known for holding on to her resentments. Holding grudges. She’d left the hint for me in her words, I was certain.