Sicily.

If there was one thing about the place that Bennett was certain of, it was that he did not enjoy being there in the slightest. The weather was unbearably hot and, weighed down as he was by his equipment, he found that every step he took was a test of his body's fortitude. Amongst his organisation, he wasn't the biggest or the strongest, but that didn't stop him from taking up the blade in the name of God. He had fought the worst that both Hell and Earth had to throw at him, and he'd be damned if he was going to let a little sun beat him.

Taking a deep breath, the young priest pulled his wide-brimmed hat off and used it to fan himself as he made his way down the narrow dirt road.

Being here was a risk. Sicily was rife with criminals these days, to the point where even his church preferred to keep its distance from the island. But Bennett couldn't just leave it well enough alone. Despite everything his peers did to warn him, he researched long into the night, scanning through whatever documents pertaining to the local crime families he could dig up.

Most didn't interest him. To Bennett, he was more than willing to leave the Italian criminal underworld to its own devices; the struggles, crimes and conflicts of his fellow man weren't his concern.

Until he read that name.

Oisicco.

It was so close to Italian that he almost didn't give it a second glance. But that name was of no mortal language.

It was a name written in Tongues. The name of a demon.

Without warning anyone, Bennett immediately charted a course for Sicily, armed with naught but a pair of revolvers and the blade of his order. He was a priest of the blade; a holy soldier. He could not suffer the taint of demonic influence while he still drew breath.

Once he had arrived at Palermo, he probed the local populace for information regarding the Oisicco family but was met with irate stares and walls of silence. Failing to glean anything that way, he was forced to hit the books and brute-force his way through local registries and other such documents, and though his grasp of most European languages was poor, he eventually managed to locate mention of his mark in a few old papers dating back to 1883, just seven years ago. Supposedly the Oisiccos were relatively quiet compared to other crime families of their ilk, and though the paper didn't reveal much else, it did tell him the name of their current leader.

Francisca Oisicco.

From there it was a matter of tracking down that name in other documents, and after several hours of wading through paper and parchment, Bennett had a lock on the family's headquarters; a reclusive villa between Corleone and Sciacca.

Stopping for a moment to wipe his brow, he reached into his black coat and fingered the steel rosary around his neck. In place of a cross, it bore the motif of a blade.

"Francisca Oisicco... You will fall to me...!" he hissed, clutching it tight to his chest.

They called him young and stupid back home. That he was too reckless to be hunting demons by himself.

But he'd show them.

He'd show them all!

With renewed fervour, Bennett continued on down the dirt road, his brow furrowed and his gaze set on the path before him. His heart pounded in time with his footsteps, and his palms itched to draw his guns and let lead fly. All around him, the Sicilian countryside - as beautiful as it was, illuminated by the harsh midday sun - went by in a blur. Trees, hills, fields and rocks passed the priest by until eventually, after what felt like hours, he found himself standing before a gate. Beyond it, a long road cut through a steep hillside towards a large marble villa that looked out over a small glassy lake. Before the villa was a large plaza dominated by a fountain, and parked around it were a number of motorcars.

This had to be it.

He heard someone clear their throat, prompting Bennett to return his attention to the gate. Two surly men flanked the wrought-iron entrance, both well-dressed and clutching double-barrelled shotguns. The hammers were cocked, and their fingers were dangerously close to the triggers.

"Who the fuck are you?" one of them asked in Italian, hefting his weapon onto his shoulder in a show of intimidation.

"This is Oisicco?" Bennett responded, a little less than fluently.

His questioner raised an eyebrow before smiling bemusedly.

"You've got it wrong, foreigner. Now piss off."

Narrowing his eyes, the priest reached for his holsters and quietly cocked the revolver hammers.

"No."

In a flash, he drew the guns and pressed the barrels against both of the guards' foreheads.

"I won't."

He pulled the triggers.

-----

In the span of twenty minutes, the beautiful Oisicco estate had become a warzone. The air was filled with gun smoke, the walls were riddled with bullet holes, and the floors were littered with incapacitated gangsters and spent shells. All around him, Bennett could hear the yells of yet more Oisicco soldiers mobilising, their boots echoing through the stately halls of the villa. He grunted and plucked a discarded rifle off the floor, his own pistols having run out of ammunition.

He had downed many a man since he breached the villa entrance, but he had yet to see a single demon. Was his information wrong?

Ducking behind a pillar, he just about managed to avoid a hail of gunfire from another batch of well-dressed thugs. Gritting his teeth, he emptied the rifle into the crowd before making a beeline for a large set of double doors at the end of the hall.

Shit, he was out of ammunition. He could only hope that there was an armoury or something beyond these doors...!

Booting them open, he threw himself inside and slammed the doors shut behind them. Spying a wooden cabinet nearby, he shoved it in front of the entrance, just to buy him some time.

His blood went cold as he heard someone laugh behind him.

"I was wonderin' who was shootin' up the place. For a while, I thought it was the usual cadre of hitmen, but it seems the truth is anythin' but."

Balling his first, Bennett slowly turned to face the source of the jeering voice.

The room he was in was not an armoury as he had hoped. Instead, the priest found himself standing at the entrance of a long, stately office. Paintings of graphic torture scenes decorated the walls, and sunlight streamed through a pair of massive stained glass windows at the far side of the office, before which lay a massive desk. And there, sitting with her feet up on the table, was her.

"Francisca Oisicco..." Bennett hissed, narrowing his eyes.

Even from her position of relaxed nonchalance, he could tell that she was a massive woman. She looked as though she towered over a foot above him, and he was considered of average height by most folk. She was dressed in dark suit pants and a tight shirt that struggled to contain her bulging muscles, and as Bennett stared on, she casually rolled her sleeves up, revealing the countless scars she bore upon her forearms.

"Why don't you quit starin' and look me in the eyes, little man?" she demanded in a powerful, booming tone.

Mustering his courage, Bennett turned his gaze unto Francisca's face.

She was terrifying and beautiful in equal measure. The woman's visage exuded confidence and power like nothing Bennett had ever seen. Her mouth was twisted into a smug grin, and both of her eyes were locked with his. One of them was a brilliant emerald colour, whilst the other was a dull grey. A deep scar ran through it from her forehead down to her cheek, where it criss-crossed a second old wound that seemed to reach around to her left ear. Her hair was a wild mane of fiery red that extended all the way down her back.

Bennett faltered a little. Why was he so nervous...?

"You! My name is Bennett! Priest!" he choked, pulling his rosary from his coat.

Francisca snorted.

"And a foreign one at that. Your Italian is woeful, little man," she chided, folding her arms in front of her broad chest.

"Silence, monster! I know you're a devil!"

This caused her to raise a thick eyebrow. With a heavy sigh, Francisca arose from her chair, drawing herself to her full height of well beyond seven feet. The floor seemed to shake as she walked around the desk and stood before it, her powerful legs planted apart as she stared the intruder down.

"Not a devil. But a demon, yes. I take it you know what I am?" she asked in an almost bored tone, cocking her head.

In response, Bennett reached for the long, cloth-wrapped object he had been carrying upon his back. Tearing the cover away, he revealed a shining steel longsword that gleamed in the light from the stained glass windows.

The blade of his order. The blade of a priest.

"Why don't you show me?!" he hissed, dropping into a combat stance as he narrowed his eyes.

Both of her eyes immediately lit up at the sight of the weapon. With a mighty laugh, the crime boss cracked her knuckles and grinned at him.

"Hah! So the little man's got some grit! Alright, finally! It's been too fuckin' long since I let loose!"

With that she reached for the buttons of her shirt and tore the first few away, causing them to tinkle to the floor. Pulling it open, she revealed the black pendant tucked within her canyon-esque cleavage, as well as inadvertently drawing Bennett's attention to the pair of stiffening nipples poking through the white cloth.

His cheeks burned despite himself. Not only was she forgoing a brassiere, but she was actively getting excited by this...?!

"Feast your eyes, little man! Burn this into your memory before I part your head from your fuckin' neck!"

With that, she tore the pendant away. A wave of demonic energy suddenly washed over her body, causing it to slowly change.

Even from as far away as he was standing, Bennett could feel the heat rolling off Francisca in waves, forcing him to shield his face as she transformed. Her tanned skin darkened to a deep orange colour as her eyes lit up with demonic fire. A red, rocklike horn sprouted from the centre of her forehead, and once it curved to its maximum length, she extended her right hand and pulled a mighty bronze labrys from a rift of burning flame. Hefting the axe onto her shoulder, she grinned and slammed her foot down, leaving scorch marks on the floor.

The priest swallowed hard. Just as he thought.

She was an Oni, a dread demon of Wrath.

"Well, I see you haven't shit yourself and run for the hills! You're braver than you look, little man!" the demon scoffed.

Her fiery gaze darkened.

"Huh... you've piqued my interest now, I'll say that much...!"

Bennett's grip on his sword tightened.

"Enough talk! Fight me! Now!"

He rushed towards the demoness as fast as he could, eyes narrowed and fixed on splitting her clean in two. He had fought Oni before, and though they were tough opponents, they weren't unbeatable. It took a skilled combatant to avoid both their axe swings and their fiery spells, but he was nothing if not a competent swordsman. If he feinted at the last second, he could use the momentum of his swing to bring his sword back around and cut her head clean off.

As he approached, Francisca didn't move. Rather than attempt to attack or defend herself, she just watched Bennett approach with intrigued eyes.

Wait... she looked... hungry...

Shaking his head, he ejected those thoughts from his mind and focused on slaying the demon before him.

Right as he got within range of Francisca's twin-headed axe, he made a swing for her neck, only to duck out of the way at the last second. With gritted teeth, he whirled the blade around in an arc and brought it down hard upon-!

In an instant, the Oni lashed out with her free hand and grabbed the sword, immediately halting it mid-swing. She gripped it tight and held it aloft, nearly dragging Bennett off his feet as she brought his face close to hers. She was oppressively hot, and her sweat smelled like burnt cinnamon.

"Weak," the demon jeered with a sidelong grin.

As if to punctuate her point, Francisca tightened her grip on the blade. The steel cracked and groaned before shattering altogether.

Falling to the floor, Bennett could only watch on in horror as his weapon - his badge of office - fell to pieces all around him. Amidst the rain of steel shards, the Oni grabbed his throat and lifted him high into the air. Though he struggled and kicked, he couldn't break her grip of iron.

"So you come into my house, kill my guys, and take a swing at me?!" she roared, eyes ablaze with diabolic flame.

Her fingers tightened around Bennett's neck, threatening to crush his throat altogether.

"The fuckin' nerve! In all my years of headin' this family, I have never seen someone do somethin' so suicidally stupid! Do you know how that makes me feel?! Wanna take a fuckin' guess, little man?!"

He pulled one of her fingers away, just enough to let him breathe.

"A- Angry...?" choked the priest, the edges of his vision going dark.

Francisca pulled him close and grinned madly.

"Oh no, little man..."

She leaned in and bit his ear painfully.

"You got me interested!"

Before he could even fathom a reaction, Bennett felt the wind get knocked from his lungs as Francisca dragged him into a tight sleeper hold. Pulled tight against her firm chest, he could only fruitlessly claw at her heavily-scarred arms as the blood flow to his head ebbed away. Right as his vision went dark and he lost control of his body, he heard the Oni whisper something into his ear.

"Oho, this is gonna be so much fun. I'm gonna enjoy breakin' you, little man..."

-----

When Bennett next awoke, he was dismayed to find himself lying facedown on a cold stone floor. He couldn't feel the weight of his clothes pressing against him, and when he performed a brief check of his body, he discovered that he had been stripped down to his undergarments. Swallowing hard, the young priest kept his nerve and peeled himself off the floor.

It was hard to see through the gloom, but if the round, dark shapes surrounding him and the heady smell in the air were anything to go by, he had to be in some kind of wine cellar. He squinted and groped around for something to steady himself with; he was still very lightheaded.

Behind him was a wall, so with his arms held before him like a blind man that had lost his cane, Bennett began to stumble through the darkness. Just as he thought he was making progress, however, something tightened around his neck and dragged him to the floor.

Swearing aloud, he reached up to feel the leather collar around his neck. A chain had been fed through an iron loop on the back, linking him to the far wall.

His eyes widened. He was a prisoner.

Somewhere else within the cellar, he heard a door open. As he scuttled back against the wall, Bennett watched as a circle of light slowly rounded a large stack of barrels, before someone carrying a candle stepped into view.

His eyes narrowed.

Not just someone.

Her.

Francisca Oisicco set the candle down on a nearby barrel as she reached for the pendant around her neck, casually unveiling her demonic features before her captive. Her good eye seemed to glow in the dark.

"Well well; look who's finally awake," the Oni commented, reaching into her pocket.

She was dressed in full regalia; a three-piece suit, a long black coat and a pair of black leather gloves to complete the look. How long had he been out...?

"Where am I?" grunted Bennett, glancing around.

"Safe enough. For now."

Producing a fine cigar, she pulled one of her gloves off and snapped her fingers, causing her thumb to burst into flame. She lit the cigar and took a deep drag.

"Let's make this easy on the both of us. You tell me who sent you, and I won't leave you to rot down here. Sound good?" Francisca asked, tapping some of the ash away.

"I was sent by God to-"

"Oh don't give me any of that bullshit, little man! I saw the damage you did! You're not some wanderin' preacher; you clearly belong to an organisation! All I want to know is why they sent you to bother me!"

He swallowed hard.

"They didn't. I'm here... by myself," Bennett admitted, gritting his teeth.

She raised an eyebrow and cocked her head as if expecting the punchline to a joke, only to be met by shamed silence from the priest. Slowly, the Oni's eyes widened as she burst out laughing.

"So you came here by yourself? To try and take me out on a whim?! Bahahaha~!"

Francisca punched the wall as she doubled over laughing, causing the entire basement to shake. Once she calmed down, the demoness wiped a tear from her eye and took a deep breath.

"Oh, that's just too fuckin' cute, little man..."

Her bemused gaze turned predatory.

"But hey; you answered my question, and I'm not so cruel as to leave you sufferin' like this. How about I get you a drink, huh?"

Bennett frowned. True enough, his throat was incredibly dry and his mouth was parched, but he wasn't about to accept alms from a demon, and especially not a demon that took such delight in his misfortune!

"Fuck you," he spat.

Surprisingly, she just grinned.

"Is that so? Wait here, then."

Francisca stomped off into the shadowy cellar, taking her candle with her and leaving Bennett alone in the dark once more. He heard the rattling of metal, followed by the sound of a cork being pulled and liquid being sloshed around. The priest shuffled back against the wall as the Oni returned, carrying a tin mug and a wine bottle. She grinned, allowing him to see how her fangs flashed in the candlelight.

"Seein' as you're insistin' on keepin' your pride, I'll just have to enjoy this vintage by my lonesome," Francisca sighed, putting out her cigar as she raised the bottle to her lips.

Though he tried to look away, Bennett couldn't help but stare as the demon took a long, deep draught of the wine. He watched it surge down her throat as his own began to feel dryer, prompting him to almost choke. She raised an eyebrow and looked at him with one fiery eye, but kept on drinking. She was drawing it out. Teasing him. Torturing him. Waiting until he conceded defeat and begged for a drink.

But he wouldn't.

He couldn't.

He was a priest of the blade, dammit! A warrior! He could last days without water! Why was he faltering now?! What was it about this brutish woman that made him feel so feeble?!

Bennett gritted his teeth as he painfully swallowed a mouthful of dry air.

"... fine. I'll take it," he growled, pointing to the mug.

Francisca pulled her drink away from her lips and smiled an infuriatingly smug smile.

"Heh. I guess your pride's not so important after all, eh little man? Ah, but there's only a little left," she teased, swirling the little wine that was left at the bottom of the bottle.

"Just give it to me, demon!"

Her brow furrowed.

"Well, if you're gonna act like a fuckin' brat...!"

She raised the bottle to her lips and poured the last of the wine into her mouth. Before Bennett could react, she picked up the mug and spat it all back into the vessel. Grinning like the sadist she was, Francisca set the mug down on the floor.

"Drink up, little man," the Oni laughed, sitting down on a barrel behind her.

Bennett stared at the mug, horrified. If she really expected him to imbibe such tainted fluid, then she had another thing coming! Despite what she said, he still had his pride!

But...

He was a warrior. He had drunk worse in the past to survive. Water from puddles and muddy wells. Surely this wasn't any worse than that...?

"Damn you. Rotten demon," Bennett cursed after a moment's hesitation, reaching out for the tin vessel.

The priest found himself shaking as he raised it to his lips. Francisca leaned forward, crossing her muscular arms before her bountiful chest as she delighted in every moment of the priest's misfortune.

The wine was strong, heady and even a little spiced. He choked after his first sip, feeling only worse upon realising that it was mixed with a demon's saliva. Screwing his eyes shut, Bennet choked it all down and tossed the mug at his captor's feet, gasping for breath as his whole body flushed.

"Atta boy... That's what I like to see," she purred, licking her lips threateningly.

Bennet glared daggers back at her. Though the wine burned the back of his throat, it had slaked his thirst, and he was finding it a little easier to relax now that his mouth didn't feel like sandpaper.

"Why am I here? Why won't you kill me?" he asked, clenching his fists.

The demon cocked her head.

"And why would I do that?"

"I'm an enemy. Killed your men. Would kill you too, if only...!"

"You, kill me? Bahahaha~! You make the funniest of jokes, little man!"

She stood up and marched towards him, her good eye blazing like wildfire. Grabbing his collar, the demon hoisted his face close to hers. She stank of wine and smoke, and her cheeks were burning red.

"You couldn't lay a fuckin' finger on me if you tried. Nah, you're only still breathin' by my say-so, so for all intents and purposes, you belong to me."

Her grip on the collar tightened, forcing Bennett to bare his teeth.

"Why?!" he growled.

"Because you interest me. Nothin' more."

Throwing him back to the floor, Francisca turned on her heel and disappeared back into the wine cellar.

"But I'm feelin' charitable today. So let me get you another drink, little man!" she called over the sound of wine bottles clinking.

While she was distracted, Bennett swivelled around and squinted at the chain securing his collar to the wall. It was thick and well maintained; he had little chance of breaking it. The mounting on the wall looked fairly recent as well, so he didn't have much hope in trying to pull it out. It gave him a good five-metre radius of movement, but there was nothing in his reach that he could use to aid his escape, and the dim lighting prevented him from peering deeper into the basement. As for the-

"Trust me; I had that chain put in special, just for you. You ain't goin' nowhere," he heard Francisca suddenly say.

Gritting his teeth, Bennett whipped around and made ready to let his frustration loose on the Oni crime boss.

But his breath caught dead in his throat at the sight of her.

Francisca Oisicco stood completely naked before him, clutching a bottle of wine in each hand as she grinned fiendishly. Her entire body was finely muscled and riddled with battle scars, the sight of which caused Bennett feel uncomfortably warm. Freed from their cloth prison, her sizable breasts were on proud display, and her nipples jutted out, betraying the Oni's drunken excitement. Slowly, the priest tracked his gaze downwards, swallowing hard at the sight of the demon's perfect abs, marred only by the trio of bullet scars they bore. Further down, her pubic hair was a bright red colour that contrasted with the tamer orange of her skin, and between Francisca's legs - both as thick and powerful as tree trunks - Bennett could make out the drooling parting of her-

He tore his gaze away.

"What?! What is this?!" he cried, staring pointedly at the floor.

"You're not in any position to question me, little man. Now, why don't you enjoy the view a little more...?"

She took a step forward, allowing her heady feminine musk to wash over him. It was hot and spicy, and seemed to dull Bennett's senses more than the alcohol did. Grinning, she ripped the cork out of one of the bottles with her teeth and began to pour it all over herself. Deep red wine trickled across the Oni's muscles in rivulets; coursing between her chiselled abs and soaking her pubes as it poured down one hefty thigh and onto the floor in front of him.

"Well go on. Aren't you thirsty?"

Bennett swallowed hard. He was drunk. Whatever was in that wine, it was affecting him far quicker than it should. He could feel his own impaired judgement urge him on, but he just grit his teeth and held his ground. This demon would not tempt him. He was a man of God!

Angered by his silent defiance, Francisca's eyes flashed with dangerous firelight.

"Drink," she uttered simply in a low, growling tone.

He gasped for breath, his entire body shaking.

"Now!"

He wasn't submitting.

He was just... doing what he had to.

To survive.

Yes, that was it.

He'd relent out of necessity, and necessity alone.

"... fine."

Leaning forward, Bennett opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out tentatively. He could feel the heat radiating off his captor's inner thigh.

Only out of necessity.

Slowly, he lapped the wine off of her thigh, shuddering a little as the rich fluid hit his tongue. It was just as strong as the last mouthful he had, but it was punctuated by the distinctive saltiness of Francisca's sweat. It was hot, and heady, and deeply, deeply intense.

"Atta boy... that's it..." Francisca breathed, leaning her head back and shutting her eyes as he licked the wine off her leg.

Before he knew it, Bennett lost himself in a warm, alcoholic haze. He licked and caressed every inch of Francisca's thigh with his tongue, lapping up as much of the wine as he could. The priest barely even noticed as her powerful hand stroked his hair and began to guide his head, urging him to begin his ministrations further up.

"Mm... You're wasted on the clergy with a tongue this good, little man..." the Oni purred, smiling blissfully as he began to work on her abs.

Bennett ignored her words. The fuzzy sensation clouding his thoughts cleared for a moment as he remembered his steely determination.

He was just doing this to secure his survival. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Bennett nearly slipped on the puddle of wine on the floor as he traced along the defined knots and whorls of the bullet scars on Francisca, but as he straightened up in accordance with her gentle guidance, he suddenly froze.

Her breasts. Even standing straight up, they were just above his eye level. Both were glazed with wine, and as he stared, Francisca opened her good eye.

"I'm not some powderpuff princess type, little man; I don't mind you starin'. Just clean them good," she commanded with a sly grin that slightly infuriated him.

She knew he was going to struggle to reach at his height. She was goading him.

He'd show her...!

Standing up as tall as he could, Bennett got to work. As Francisca emptied the second wine bottle all over herself, he held her right breast in his shaking hands and began to lick it all over. Though firm, the flesh still had some give, and Bennett found himself treating the Oni's chest with a little more delicacy. He lapped up the wine with gentle flicks of his tongue before he circled her areola with care. It was a darker shade of orange than the rest of her body.

He felt an uncomfortable tightening in his groin.

No. No! He felt nothing for this demon! He was a priest, God damn it!

Growing slightly angrier at his situation, he bravely lashed his tongue across Francisca's nipple, collecting the wine that had been beading at the tip. She gave a slight gasp in response.

"Ooh, still got some bite, eh little man?" she chuckled, looking down at him.

His cheeks burned. How dare she mock him!

Oh, he'd show her some fucking bite...!

Without warning, Bennett clamped his teeth down on Francisca's nipple, causing her to involuntarily yelp. She suddenly grabbed his throat and shoved him back against the wall, eyes blazing with rage. She was breathing heavily through gritted teeth, though her mouth was still twisted into a grin. He could feel the heat emanating from her single jutting horn.

"Still fightin', huh?!" she growled.

Though his heart was hammering, Bennett kept his composure as best he could.

"I will never submit to your kind," he spat defiantly.

Why did he feel like his life was in danger...?

Why did he feel like it might be worth it...?

Her grin widened.

"So you wanna play rough, little man?! You still wanna take on an Oni, even when you're chained to a fuckin' wall?!"

He shouldn't anger her like this. But Bennett's pride urged him on.

"I'll fight until I die!"

"Then you better focus on not dyin'...!"

Pulling him away from the wall, Francisca threw the priest to the ground with a powerful shove. Before he could scramble back to his feet, the Oni planted her feet either side of his body and glared down at him. His stomach lurched as she suddenly dropped down.

With two titanic thighs clamping his head in place, Bennett could only uselessly thrash his limbs as Francisca's crotch was pressed against his face. He held his mouth firmly shut, and with her wine-soaked pubic hair tickling his nostrils, he soon found himself lacking the ability to breathe.

"Enjoyin' yourself down there?! Because I don't plan on gettin' up until you fuckin' suffocate!" the Oni growled cruelly, folding her arms.

The priest clawed at the stone floor, wincing as the pressure on his neck intensified. She was really going to put all of her weight on his face like this?! What kind of lewd and depraved act was this?!

As if sensing his outrage, Francisca gave a throaty laugh.

"You know, back in Hell, I once heard of a Succubus executioner that used to crush her victims like this. Must say, I'm seein' the appeal!"

Bennett furrowed his brow but persevered. The thick, powerful scent of Francisca's womanhood was almost enough to make his head spin, and the pressure of her thighs was making it hard to think. He was running out of air, too. He slapped Francisca's rear, but she just squeezed her legs harder.

"Hell of a way to go, little man! Can't wait to see what your God'll think of this!"

No!

He would not face down those pearlescent gates this day!

Especially not after suffering at the hands of a demon!

If he had to sacrifice his pride to survive, then so bet it!

For his survival! Nothing more! Nothing less!

In a brazen act of half-delirious defiance, Bennett opened his mouth and licked Francisca's womanhood. It was already sopping wet from both the wine and her own secretions of excitement, which mixed together into a spicy, sexual flavour that nearly caused the priest to pass out right there and then. It was intoxicating. It was forbidden. A deliciously, deliciously taboo flavour.

With drunken, newfound purpose, he began to frantically work his tongue all along the Oni's sex. He'd tease apart her lips, flick across her engorged clitoris and dip inside her vagina. Startled by his sudden counter-offensive, Francisca toppled forward onto her hands but kept her legs clamped firmly around her captive's head.

"Hoo... I knew you were gonna be interestin', but this is a Hell of a change in attitude, little man...!" she gasped, grinning.

He could barely hear her through the muscular thighs scorching his ears. Bennett just kept at it, alternating his movements increasing his pace as he tried to keep his own enthusiasm in check. It was a strange thing to think, but he almost felt as though he was growing addicted to the Oni's sexual flavour, even once he'd slurped away all of the wine.

His order - priests of the blade - were taught to eschew the touch of their fellow man, and were instructed to cut down any demon they came across. And yet here he was, indulging himself in his mortal foe...

No. He was only doing this to survive. Nothing more. Nothing less.

"Hah... Yeah, atta boy... That's it...!" Francisca moaned, spurring him on.

Catching snatches of air between each flick of his tongue, Bennett continued to refine his technique. He'd flatten his tongue and lick along the entire length of her sex, before running the tip along her clitoris, which incited surprised yelps from the Oni. He didn't know why, but this excited him.

It was just the wine affecting him.

It had to be.

"Keep... going... little... man...!"

He wholeheartedly obliged, matching his movements to Francisca's as she began to rock her hips against his face. She leaned back and moaned throatily, squeezing her thighs harder as her gasps for breath grew quicker.

If he could just give her what she wanted, just this once, then he could focus on getting out of here...!

"H- Heh... your Italian is shit, but damn if you don't have a good tongue on you...!"

Everything in the background faded away as Bennett fell into a trance. The pressure around his head, the slight pain in his neck... it all melted away into the background of intoxicating tastes and drunken scents. Without blinking an eye, he'd perfectly match and alternate the rhythm of his licks according to every little movement Francisca made. He'd occasionally nip with his teeth to keep her guessing, or would focus on her clit to amp up her gasps, but he never once let up. Even time lost its meaning; he no longer knew if he had been at it for fifteen minutes or an hour.

For his survival. And if she felt good in the process, then that was just a bonus.

Wait.

Why was he even worried about that...?

"F- Fuck... Almost... there...!" Francisca suddenly cried, reaching behind her head in order to cling to her own hair.

That was his cue. Though his mouth was beginning to ache somewhat, Bennett began to attack the Oni's clitoris without mercy, slathering a mixture of Francisca's juices and his own saliva all over his face and her crotch in order to bring her to climax.

A climax that she reached just moments later, in a rather explosive manner.

As a flood of feminine ejaculate poured onto Bennett's face, Francisca arched her back and released an almighty scream. It was loud enough to almost burst his eardrums, and as she came, her thighs clamped tighter around his head, until his vision went red and all he could hear was a high-pitched squeal. She remained that way for a few moments until the Oni's grip loosened and she eased herself off of the priest's face, her legs twitching and shuddering. He just lay there, gasping down lungfuls of cool air as the remains of Francisca's orgasm dried on his face.

The Oni herself sat upright against a nearby barrel, pacing her breathing as her legs shook. She laughed and pointed at Bennett.

"You... are somethin' else, little man. I think I'm gonna enjoy keepin' you around," she said with a flushed grin.

Feeling as though a tonne weight had been lifted off his neck, Bennett winced and looked around, blanching at the sight of the two holes smashed into the floor either side of his head where the demon's fists had punched through.

"Hoo, still shiverin'... Damn, I'll admit it; I enjoyed that," Francisca remarked, reaching for her discarded coat.

As she pulled out another cigar and lit it with a snap of her fingers, Bennett felt a strange mix of anger, frustration and annoyance well up in the pit of his stomach. Easing himself into an upright position, he glared at the demon as she took a carefree puff.

"I can't say I did," he spat.

He felt a pang of guilt in his gut.

Was it not a sin to lie?

Frowning at his words, the Oni got to her feet and grabbed his collar, effortlessly lifting him into the air once more.

"Hey, I was just plannin' on poppin' your skull like a ripe grape. It was your bright idea to start lickin'," she purred in a halfway threatening tone.

Despite his legs dangling beneath him, Bennett bared his teeth.

"Fuck you."

"Bahaha~! You're not there yet, little man! But who knows? Keep surprisin' me, and I might just concede!"

"What are you talking about?! Fucking bi- MMBLF?!"

He was unceremoniously cut off as she suddenly pressed her lips against his, prying them apart with her powerful tongue as she probed the insides of his mouth. Between the two of them, her rough kiss tasted like sex, spiced wine and acrid smoke, a flavour sensation that caused Bennett's eyes to water. He had no more fight left to give, not today. He just melted into her mouth, allowing her to have her way with him until she was satisfied, whereupon she dumped the priest to the floor, his chain rattling behind him.

"I'll see you tomorrow, little man. In the meantime; maybe think about callin' me Mistress, yeah?" she chided, winking her good eye as she smiled devilishly.

Her cigar glowing in the dark, Francisca bundled up her clothes beneath her arm and marched out of the wine cellar, leaving Bennett alone in the dying candlelight.

He could do naught but flop onto his back, completely exhausted. Covered in the drying secretions, sweat, wine and stinking of smoke and spices, he could only stare at the shadowy ceiling and ponder his fate.

Bennett swallowed hard. He could still taste her honeypot on his lips.

"Whatever it takes..." he gasped aloud.

The priest's eyes narrowed, determined.

"Nothing more. Nothing less."