In the dark of midnight, in a forest between the rashes of civilization, a young fox came to an abandoned shrine just off a lonely path. The shrine was no more than a square shack to leave offerings in, forgotten by the brush surrounding it. Seeking shelter, he passed through the gate, tearing away the spell tag on the doors and finds himself in a chamber much larger than the simple shack outside.
	The room was massive the walls covered in glyphs and runes colored and iridescent green. The ceiling was a twisted fused stone mosaic, imitating the swirl of a whirlpool that spun into the sky instead of the sea. Light shone down from the center of that cobbled mess into a circle carved into the floor. At the circles inner edges, iron pegs were slammed into the floor. Chains led from each of the pegs with a holy number of spell tags dangling from them, all inscribed with the power of sealing.
	Contained in all this by her neck with a collar was a vixen. The vixen looked every bit as young as the fox, nude in her sacred bindings. Her eyes shut were shut with her face staring up into the light as if in prayer. Her hands tucked deeply, greedily between her legs as she crouched low to the floor, fingers rubbing and churning the flesh inside. A puddle crept out from under her, slow and thick like honey but clear and colorless like water. Not a drop dared to spread beyond the line of another circle that had been imbedded just around her feet.
	The young Todd stared at all this, stunned and disbelieving. Stunned until the vixen snapped out of her ‘prayer’ and simply looked at him with blue eyes that glowed like distant lanterns in the depths of a mine. The fox stepped back from those eyes with a start, arms crossing over his chest from a sudden chill and ears folding against his head from uncertainty.
	The vixen hunched over herself, whining. A hurt look played over her face, ears mirroring his as he stepped back. “Please don’t leave,” she pleaded, her voice a silken buttery purr that oozed with need, a need that went far beyond primal lust, “It’s so cold here. I’ve been lonely, so very lonely.” Her hands pulled stiffly from between her legs, tracing water-gel from her nethers on slender fingers. Her wet hands squelched between her breasts, breathing heavily, making their heavy curves bounce as the air filled with the scent of her exposed sex.
	It was a lure.
	She was luring the boy with everything she had that wasn’t bound by her damned chains. He was her toy the moment she said ‘please’. Dazed, he shambled over until he was only a few feet from her and knelt to look deeply inter eyes.
	“Do you have a name,” she asked in hushed voice.
	“Yes,” he droned loudly.
	“What is it?”
	“Kanbei Ozaru”
	Her eyes flashed and she tilted her head back, a chilled cry escaping her lips as though she’d been stabbed- or touched in precisely the right way, the chains around her rattled angrily from the gesture. 
“Kanbei… Ozaru… Cut my rope for me?” 
The cavernous room quaked gently as she spoke his name and instead of waking dreamily to where she gestured, her tail, it seemed that he was pulled the rope- the same force causing him to draw out a field knife with a deftness that would cause even the wielder of the weapon to be fearful. Kanbei hesitated when his blade touched the rope, he felt the faint call of warning at the back of his mind.
Like all the other eight chains, the rope was bound to an anchor at the inner edge of the circle that surrounded the vixen, binding her by the tail instead of by the neck. She looked back to him, her eyes glowing fiercely as she rasped, “Cut it!” And the rope was cut, its tags burst into white flame. Then the demon girl stood, pulling the chains that bound her, making them rust with every breath she took until the links fell impotent and useless at her feet. Only the collar remained without a loop to hold her with new chains. She pulled uselessly at the iron, finding it as real and unbreakable as the knife in Kanbei’s hand. “This could be a problem…”
	“What did I do wrong?” moaned Kanbei.
	The demon turned to him and smiled warmly, a hand covering the letters that suddenly burned to life on the steel.
“Nothing sweetie,” she cooed, “You’ve done nothing wrong. Mommy’s gonna reward you for being such a good boy tonight.”
She swept over to him then, seeing through his flesh and into his soul. She could see his doubt, his despair, loneliness and longing festering in his spirit. It filled her with hunger. She’d feed on it all until there was nothing but joy, love and confidence. And rapture, especially rapture. The end of her tail was suddenly ablaze with white fire, he fur glowed white and pure like her eyes and she took him. She tore away his clothes and took him. 
She took him slowly and carefully.
Kanbei shook with another chill as her hands glanced across the bare fur of his chest, his breath hung in his throat at the rub and grind of her body against his. His world shattered with the feel of her damp silken passage taking him in. His body arched with a jolt, muscles tense, the mind a racing void with everything spinning like a tornado. For him, it was centuries before realizing his hands grasped at hips too soft to be real. His eyes were on everything about her, the flow of her long silvery hair, her smile as she looked down on him, the jump and bounce of her breasts as she drove him deeply into her.
Within moments her softly bouncing thrusts became wild and thrashing. She started crying out his name, her right hand clawing his chest while her left tenderly squeezed her breast, twisting and pulling at the nipple at her rhythm for him. She twisted and coiled like a snake in every thrust, squeezing him, pulling him deeper until he’d been snared completely in her silken vice. He arched into her, groaning with pleasure, oblivious to the nails buried in to his ribs and trailing blood, feeling thick, heavy webbing being pulled from the fabric of his being. She arched as desperately as he arched into her, digging him in, taking the heat of his climax, the spill of life from his release, even his fatigue was drained from him should he want her again and howling the delight of it all into the very walls of the chamber. Her delight had been in feeding- the heavy weight Kanbei felt, she felt too and took it from him the way she had taken everything else. Although he was perfectly capable, the rush of everything he felt, everything he knew he was able to do cowed him just as easily as any fatigue. For the moment, he enjoyed her devilish smile, the gentle hand at his cheek, and the comfortably cool embrace of her body against his.

At dawn that morning, Kanbei left the shrine and its hidden inner tomb holding the she-demon at his side. Clutched loosely over her cloud-white fur was an autumn colored robe she’d conjured, her waist-length mane pooled under it with a waterfalls ease at her back. She looked back at the shrine with a scowl, still clinging to his side and hiding the burning light of her collar against him.
“What should I call you,” asked Kanbei absently.
“Should my name matter? We have each other,” she whispered as if shamed, still scowling at the shrine.
“Yes, but I’ve only just met you and we-“
“Eru. Just call me Eru.”
Eru began to rub the iron collar around her neck nuzzling into Kanbei’s side, her True Name burning with light on the steel as she worked her magic in the blaze of the rising sun. even as the letters light faded, her name could’ve been seen by anyone who knew to look: 
Erutpar Ardor.