Samuel had grown up in a society that worshipped the White Devil, a deity that embodied power, racial purity, and superiority.

From childhood, the teachings of the White Devil had been ingrained in him—the belief that those with pale skin were chosen, a blessed people meant to rule over others, their dominance a divine right.

His entire world was built on the foundation of white supremacy, with towering temples adorned in alabaster and gold, where priests and scholars reinforced the doctrine of racial hierarchy, exalting the superiority of whiteness.

But as Samuel grew older, the seeds of doubt began to take root in his mind. The world around him, for all its grandeur, seemed poisoned by the very ideals it upheld.

He could see the injustice in how the "lesser races" were treated—exploited and dehumanized under the pretense of divine will.

Whispers from beyond the borders of his homeland had reached him, telling of different gods, different truths. And most intriguingly, he had heard of the Seraphina.

The Seraphina, ethereal beings of unmatched beauty and wisdom, were said to be the guardians of justice, mercy, and truth. They despised the very notion of white superiority that Samuel’s society celebrated. Rumor had it that the Seraphina viewed white people as tainted and inherently evil - their white skin a symptom of demonic corruption and perversion.

For years, Samuel had tried to suppress these thoughts, fearing the wrath of the priests and the harsh consequences for those who questioned the White Devil’s teachings. But he couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.

The world, his world, was built on lies. And perhaps, he thought, the Seraphina held the truth he was searching for.

He began to secretly study what little he could find about the Seraphina—scraps of forbidden texts, half-whispered legends.

Though the stories were vague and often contradictory, one thing was clear: they despised the very privilege Samuel had been taught to embrace, and sought to exterminate the seeds of evil.

But instead of feeling offended by their scorn, he found himself strangely drawn to it. What if they were right? What if the privilege that had shaped his entire existence was nothing more than a curse—a mark of corruption that clung to his soul?

Despite his growing doubts, Samuel remained outwardly loyal to his society, performing his duties at the temple dedicated to the White Devil. As a maintenance worker, he spent his days polishing the statues of their pale-skinned deity, dusting the sacred marble floors, and cleaning the golden relics that symbolized centuries of white dominance. But in his heart, he had begun to feel distant from it all.

Every task felt hollow, a ritual in service of a lie.

He imagined what it might be like to stand before a Seraphina—one of the beings he had heard so much about but never seen. In his dreams, they appeared as celestial judges, their radiant beauty blinding, their gaze piercing through the facade of righteousness his people wore like a cloak. Perhaps, with their guidance, he could shed the taint of his upbringing and confront the darkness of his own racism.

Every night, as he worked late in the temple halls, he would fantasize about a meeting with a Seraphina. What would it be like to confess his complicity? To stand before a being of true justice and be found wanting?

Would they destroy him for his sins, or would they offer him a path toward redemption, however painful it might be? He longed to know, to be freed from the suffocating weight of the life he had always known.

But Samuel also knew that the Seraphina were no gentle saviors.

They were merciless toward those who clung to the corruption of the White Devil. He had heard tales of men who had sought their help, only to be broken under the weight of their judgment. Still, he couldn't help but wonder if that was the only way he could truly be free—if his salvation lay in being torn apart by the very forces that despised him.

And so, with each passing day, Samuel’s desire to break free from his society’s grip and confront the Seraphina grew stronger, even as fear gnawed at him.

He continued his duties, sweeping the floors of the temple and polishing the idols of the White Devil, all the while imagining a different future—one where he could stand before the Seraphina and finally be cleansed of the sin of privilege that weighed so heavily upon him.

What he didn’t know was that the moment he longed for was approaching faster than he could have ever imagined.

One day, when evening turned to night and Samuel was working late, he was alone in the temple, getting things ready for the annual Harvest Festival ceremony tomorrow, a revered tradition that brought the local community together to celebrate the bountiful harvest and offer prayers for prosperity. He worked tirelessly, meticulously polishing the large golden candleholder on the altar table. Yet, as Samuel proudly inspected the gleaming golden polish, something caught his eye. He noticed, in the reflection, a figure behind him. A Seraphina.

Samuel froze for a second, a wave of terror gripping his heart like icy claws. Whatever happened now, he knew his life was about to change radically, if not reach its end.

Standing just a few meters behind him, she spoke softly, her voice like the sweetest honey to his ears, "Are you afraid, Samuel?"

His mind, being thoroughly overwhelmed by fear and terror, knowing this could very well be his end, was unable to conjure up a response in time.

He felt a tingling sensation around his head, with faint purple swirls dancing in the air before his eyes. The tingling quickly turned into what felt like an iron grip all around his skull, the pressure unbearable, and just then this force pulled his head down towards the altar table fast, slamming his face into its cold marble surface and then letting go.

Samuel collapsed to the floor, blood streaming from his nose and cuts on his face, his consciousness waning in horror and desperation.

He tried to push himself up, but his limbs felt heavy and unresponsive. The room began to spin as he struggled to make sense of what had just happened, fear gripping his heart as he realized he was not in control of his own body.

The darkness seemed to press in on him from all sides, suffocating and oppressive. Samuel's mind raced with thoughts of the unknown horrors the unseen force could inflict upon him, his terror escalating with each passing moment as he keenly felt the weight of the Seraphina's telekinetic prowess bearing down on him. Realizing he was helpless against an incomprehensible force, fear paralyzed him, sending a shiver down his spine.

Then, in the silence of the temple, hearing only his own breathing and pounding heart, the echoing sound of heeled boots rang out, as the Seraphina approached him with a confident stride. Dread crept up his spine, his mind racing with a mix of terror and curiosity, unsure of what fate awaited him.

She stopped, just within arms length of Samuel, beholding his pathetic visage on the floor in front of her.

She spoke once again, softly and controlled, but with a clear sense of disdain, "Are you ignoring me?".

Samuel's mind raced as he struggled to find the right words to respond, his voice barely above a whisper as he stammered out an apology: "I'm.. I'm so sorry.. I didn't mean to.".

The weight of her gaze bore down on him, making him feel smaller and more insignificant than ever before.

The Seraphina's eyes narrowed, her lips curling into a smirk as she watched him squirm. "You should know better than to ignore me," she said, her voice dripping with malice. Samuel could feel the tension in the air, knowing he had crossed a line that he may never be able to come back from.

She continued, "You are tainted, you are white. You are a blight and a disease.". She raised both of her delicate, armor-clad hands up in front of her, clenching her fists and pulling apart rapidly, as if tearing apart an imaginary piece of cloth. In the very same instant, Samuel's clothes were violently torn asunder by the unseen force, leaving him whipping on the floor, completely exposed with just a few shreds and loose threads clinging to his shivering body.

"Look at you, so pale you are. You're truly disgusting, do you know that?"

Samuel's eyes widened in shock as he tried to cover himself with the remnants of his torn clothes. Her words pierced him like a knife, leaving him vulnerable and exposed.

He had never felt so humiliated and helpless in his life. The woman's cold, piercing gaze bore into him, making him feel like a mere shell of a man. Yet he was stunned as he beheld her immense otherworldly beauty, her delicately sculpted face, her ample curves and flawless skin, clad in metallic pieces of gold emblazoned armor, clearly intended for decoration rather than protection, showing off her heavenly form.

Despite his distress and injuries, his heart raced with a mix of fear and arousal.

Helplessly exposed, his erection was immediate and undeniable.

She looked at him, at his exposed eager cock, with hatred written all over her exquisite face as she uttered, "The audacity! First you ignore me, and now this.. Do you find it exciting to mistreat me like so?"

His mind raced as he tried to come up with an explanation, but the truth was undeniable. He had been captivated by her beauty from the moment he laid eyes on her, and now, in this vulnerable state, his desire for her was impossible to ignore. He stammered, trying to find the right words to express his feelings, but she cut him off with a sharp glare. "Save your excuses," she said coldly.

And with that she raised her hand, gripping the air, instantly making Samuel's throat tighten, freezing him in place and almost making him unable to breathe.

He felt a surge of fear as he realized the power she held over him, his heart pounding in his chest.

Then, as she raised her other hand slightly, closing her fingers, he started feeling intense pressure on his ballsack.

Samuel panicked, trying to struggle himself free, but the pressure around his throat was holding him firmly in place, not even allowing a single moan or scream to escape his constricted airways.

His cock throbbing desperately, unable to deal with the intense sensation, leaking precum and betraying him by its blatant arousal.

As she continued to exert her control over him, Samuel's mind raced with thoughts of how he could escape this predicament. His body was betraying him, responding to her abuse in ways he couldn't control. The pressure on his ballsack only intensified, causing a mix of pleasure and pain that was both confusing and exhilarating.

As the unseen pressure kept increasing on his testicles, the pain became so intense, the sensation so overwhelming that his cock finally erupted in a powerful release, his body convulsing with pleasure and relief as his precious semen was pumped out all over himself and the temple floor.

The mixture of agony and ecstasy left him feeling drained and helpless, but the Seraphina did not let go of him; instead, the firm grip on his throat continued as the pressure on his spent testicles now rapidly increased, with a cold and determined look on her face.

And just then, two small pops were heard as his testicles exploded under the pressure, leaving him in excruciating pain and unable to move. The Seraphina's grip on his throat tightened even more, her eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and cruelty as she watched him suffer.

But then she stopped and let go of him. The telekinetic hold on him vanished.

Samuel, barely remaining conscious, in a state of excrusiating pain and panic, could do nothing but look up at the Seraphina in sheer terror, as she slowly knelt down in front of him, a sweet smile playing on her lips. "I know you, Samuel.. I know your prayers; your desire to be free from the demonic taint that plagues your pale kind," she whispered, her voice dripping with poisoned honey, "Now I have cleansed you, as you wished for. Will you show me, Serissa, proper gratitude?",

Samuel's heart raced as he tried to process her words, finally learning the name of his tormentor. As he struggled to find his voice, she reached out a hand to gently caress his cheek, her touch both comforting and unnerving. "Do not be afraid," she cooed, her eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. "Tell me how grateful you are, and all will be well."

Samuel's tortured mind raced with conflicting emotions as he tried to make sense of the situation. Was Serissa truly offering him a chance at redemption, or was there something more sinister at play?

With a deep pained breath, Samuel mustered all his will and courage and whispered, "I am eternally grateful for your help, Serissa..."

For the first time, hints of a smile that seemed genuine spread across her delicate lips as she probed him further, "Oh?" clearly not entirely satisfied with his response.

Samuel's heart pounded in his chest as he carefully chose his next words, knowing that the fate of his soul hung in the balance. He took a deep breath and continued, "I am willing to do whatever it takes to make amends for my past mistakes and the sins of other whites like me." Serissa's eyes softened slightly, a glimmer of hope shining through them.

She studied him for a moment, as if searching for any hint of deception in his words. Finally, she nodded slowly, a sense of understanding passing between them. "Very well," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "But know this, Samuel, redemption is not easily earned. It will require great sacrifice and unwavering dedication. You will be working tirelessly to exterminate your own kind. If you falter, I will end you."

Samuel felt a surge of determination welling up inside him as he met her gaze with steely resolve. "I am ready," he replied, his voice steady and sure.

And with that, their journey towards white genocide began, with Samuel the broken eunuch now a loyal pawn for Serissa to use and discard as she saw fit.