Shackles of Hate. Chapter 3: First Blood

By: SinfulWolf

Seltha crouched by a dead shrub on the hill just to the west of the Elven encampment looking out into what had once been fertile land full of lush grash, sparkling lakes and clear skies. Now, under Yuldasha’s reign nothing more than a dead land, the sky hidden behind a veil of dusk and swirling demonic energies that even the brilliance of the sun struggled to pierce.

Letting out a long sigh she relaxed her hold on the longbow in her hand, for there was no sight of demons or of the enslaved soldiers that had been assaulting her homeland to the north. Still, she dared not let her vigilance slip, lest this scouting party be discovered, and killed before they could complete their mission.

On the morrow, they would infiltrate the village surrounding Thorlgruz, and find the demoness Aeltha, and kill her. Seltha could not deny that she was nervous, for they were entering the heart of the enemy’s territory, and Aeltha was one of Yuldasha’s most dangerous lieutenants; a sorceress whose experiments had only led to further sorrow for the Coalition.

A loud crash from behind her made Seltha turn to face into the camp, her heart pounding within her breast as she searched for the sound of the commotion. She only found one of her companions cursing quietly as he picked up the sack of cooking supplies her had knocked over, rubbing at his shin from the pain that doubtlessly flowed from bruised flesh.

The lookout couldn’t help but smirk at the poor boy’s misfortune, before her eyes noticed something on the opposite hill, or rather the lack of something. Rising to her feet Seltha narrowed her eyes, straining to find her fellow lookout, but could not see them. Once more fear began to take hold, and she was about to call out a warning when dark, cold metal clamped over her mouth.

“You could scream, I would love to hear the terror in your voice before you died, but I think this will go better for me if you are quiet,” a dangerous and sensual voice hissed in her ear, the woman’s breath hot on the Elf’s ear.

Seltha felt the sharp point of a dagger sliding up under her armoured skirt, grazing against her thigh and inching closer to her womanhood. Trembling in the arms of her unknown attacker, she clamped her eyes shut when she noticed the leathery wings closing in around her.

“But I can still feel it. The beating of your cowardly heart beneath those gorgeous breasts of yours,” the assailant whispered, her hot tongue sliding over her ear, before sliding down to her neck.

“I will kill your friends tonight. Most of them anyway, some will be savoured in a much more personal manner. Take heart though, you are the lucky one, you will not get to see it,” the woman cooed, the tip of her dagger gently cutting through the fabric of Seltha’s panties, teasing her petals with the cold edge of demonically tainted steel.   

Seltha wanted to sob, but only a muffled and choked cry escaped into the gauntleted hand of her attacker, heard by no one save the very woman who clutched her tight. Then came the intense flare of pain in her neck, as fangs bit down hard into her flesh. Hot blood spilled from the wound, and the demon behind her groaned quietly as she drank deep of the Elf’s life.

Everything slowly faded away into nothing, as pain began to bleed away and Seltha was left only with hints of pleasure that wormed into her body despite her own looming demise.

Tossing the bled out corpse to the ground, and licking her bloodied lips, Lillium lifted her dagger before her face. The black steel glinted with juices from the Elf’s cunt, and the succubus ran her tongue over the blade to taste the exquisite flavour, before sheathing the short blade in the belt that hung loosely from her hips.

Glancing behind herself, Lillium watched as a handful of demons emerged from the sand. Only human sized, but their naked forms were corded tightly with muscle, their talons curved to make for better digging. Pinched faces with empty white eyes looked up at the succubus atop the hill, in her armour of black steel. The corset top hugged her curves, holding her breasts firmly in place. Small spikes, carved from Elvish bones, jutted up from the plunging neck line, and dug gently into the pale flesh of her breasts. A pair of simple pauldrons were bolted into place to protect her shoulders, small spikes curling out from their edges, gleaming menacingly in the dulled light of the Tortured Sea.

Looking down at her soldiers, Lillium spread her wings wide, the leathery limbs emerging from the open back of her armoured corset. Her eyes danced amongst them, and felt some of their eyes sliding down to the pointed end of her top, the snowy and hard muscle of her midriff exposed to the air, before the metal plates of her pants, shaped perfectly to contour to her curves, began. Knee high boots held firm to her calves, the bottom of the heel cut out to let her natural bone protrude out and dig into the sand.

“Elf flesh awaits,” Lillium purred, licking her lips, and pulling a long sword, slightly curved at its tip, and serrated near its guard from its sheath.

The demons all hissed quietly, and began to scamper up the hill, and pour downwards into the camp. Lillium followed after them, feeling a droplet of blood fall from her chin to land in her cleavage from her first meal of the night.

The creatures were soundless as they broke into the camp, creeping into tents to rip asunder the Elves that slept comfortably within, unaware of the death that stalked amongst them. Until a scream ripped through the camp.

A woman tore out of one of the tents, full breasts exposed and swaying, glistening with saliva and ran out towards the fire. Lillium calmly approached as the Elf reached into one of the piled rucksacks, and pulled a sword free. The warrior stood, defiant, but did not raise her weapon in time before Lillium’s sword sang through the air and bit through flesh and blood.

Blood sprayed up from the stump that had once been the Elf’s neck, as her head toppled to the ground. Lillium smiled at the still standing corpse, before viciously kicking it into the flames, sending a shower of sparks shooting upwards into the air. The smell of burning flesh filled the camp, and Lillium breathed it in deeply.

The carnage was short lived, and Lillium was disappointed that she did not get to carve her mark into the bodies of more Elves. Looking about at the strewn limbs and mangled bodies, she decided she could live with what the digger demons had done.

Strolling through the ruins of the camp towards the largest tent, were the commander of this little excursion doubtlessly slept, she could hear the sounds of tearing flesh and snapping bone from a few of the shelters around her. From a few others she  heard the sound of wet slapping flesh, and the grunts of demons overpowering the wet sobs of Elves, men and women alike. Lillium might have to take some time to enjoy those sights before they were all carted off to the cages of Thorlgruz.

Brushing aside the long flap of the commanders tent, Lillium strolled within, hips swaying as always. She ignored the woman being ravaged in the far corner, and even ignored the naked man held on his knees, two spears from his own supplies held at his throat.

He stared up at Lillium, fear plain in his eyes, as the succubus made her way to a small back pack leaning against one of the tent poles. Without a word she flipped the pack open and reached within, soon pulling out a clear bottle filled with a deep red liquid.

“Elves. At least you make good wine,” Lillium said, digging a metal covered talon into the bottle’s cork and popping it out. She brought it to her dark violet lips and drank deeply, before calmly moving over to the woman bent onto her hands and knees in the corner.

“Don’t you agree my dear?” the demoness growled, and grasped the woman’s golden blonde hair in a gauntleted hand and wrenched back, pulling her upwards, letting Lillium get a good look at her breasts, the pert pink nipples standing out from the fair flesh. The demon fucking her from behind did not stop, his cock continuing to piston in and out of her ass, its claws digging into her hips.

Lillium smiled, holding the woman up by her hair, and tilted the bottle over her, spilling wine into her mouth and over her breasts. The elf sputtered and coughed, before Lillium shoved her roughly back down to the ground.

“Enjoy her, but do not spoil her overly much. We’ll take her back to the cages,” Lillium commanded the rutting demon, who only hissed in reply.

“Good boy,” the succubus purred, and tipped the wine bottle towards its mouth. The demon gulped down the liquid until the bottle was drained, and Lillium tossed the bottle into the corner, forgetting its existence.

Now she finally stopped before the commander, who had not spoken a word. Thin beads of scarlet ran down from the tips of the spears pressing against his neck.

“Amongst my old clan, the fate I have for you would have been considered worse than death, but you’re an Elf, and what I’m going to do to you will likely leave you sobbing in joy,” Lillium hissed with utter contempt.

“What are you going to do?” the commander finally said, staring upwards in absolute fear.

Lillium smiled, revealing the fangs hiding behind her violet painted lips. Kneeling before the man she ran a metal covered talon between the spears poking his neck, and upwards until it rested on his chin. Staring into his eyes, she gently commanded the two demons to pull their spears away, then gently patted his cheek.

“I’m letting you go,” she said, almost sweetly, and flicked her tongue across his lips.

She got to her feet, and the commander looked up at her with confusion in his eyes. He looked back to the woman in the back corner of the tent, demonic cum streaming down her legs as the digger continued to fuck her without concern for his audience. His sinewy back arched as his hips thrust forward, balls slapping loudly against the Elf woman’s thighs.

The woman stared back at the commander, tears making her mascara run in black lines down her cheeks, a pleading look in her eyes.

“But you must do something for me first. Don’t worry, it’s simple. I want to make sure a simple Elf like you could do it. Deliver a message, to your superiors. Tell them Lillium is coming for them. And she will have their heads,” the succubus snarled, and promptly pivoted on her heel, and strode calmly away from the man.

With one last look of guilt back to the woman being ravaged in the back corner, the commander rose to his feet, and with head hung low, followed after the succubus, leaving her to her fate. Her screams followed after him, long after he had left the camp and stumbled out into the wastes.

Standing on a dune, Lillium watched him go, idly licking fresh blood from her talons.


Kira groaned and opened her eyes, the chirp of birds muffled by wooden walls. Looking around she found herself in a strange hut, on a bed with thick furs for blankets. She must be somewhere near the glade, perhaps in that old woman’s home.

Sitting up, she groaned, her muscles sore after yesterday’s activities, and she was still naked, revealing the new tail sprouting from just above her ass. She reached down, and gently stroked it, feeling the fur beneath her fingertips, the pull on her flesh.

So the old woman had been right; Kira had become wolfkin, one of those meant to defend the clan in its darkest days, sacrificing their very humanity to defend it.

For a moment she felt sad, knowing Lillium should have held this title. She sat atop the bed, wishing things could have been different, wishing her sister were still around and not rotting in a demonic prison somewhere. Closing her eyes, a single tear rolling down her cheek, Kira could not believe that she was finding herself hoping Lillium was dead, and unable to suffer under her captor’s torments.

There was a low creak, and Kira looked up to see the hut’s door opening, a large muscular man waking through, clad in furs with a bow strapped around his barrel chest. A hunter, Kira surmised.

“Oh, you’re awake,” the man said with a small smile. Kira frowned, grabbing the blankets and pulling them up to obscure her nudity.

“That I am. Who are you, and why am I in your home?” she demanded, and the hunter blushed, rubbing his head and shuffling on his feet.

“Some old woman found me, pointed me towards you, said you needed some help. So I scooped you up, and brought you back here. Your stuff’s all in the chest there,” the man said.

“Mind leaving while I dress then?” Kira pushed, and the man’s blush deepened as he stepped outside, closing the door behind him.

Kira sighed, and dropped the blanket once more, moving towards the indicated chest and quickly swinging it open. Inside was not her usual clothing, and she shook her head, knowing that old woman would have been behind this as well.

Within the chest was a cuirass of leather covered in a layer of fur. A little low cut for Kira’s tastes, but somehow it looked… right. With a sigh, Kira picked it up, taking note of the skirt that fell from the cuirass’s waist that would descend to her knees. Taking a few moments she managed to get the garment on, feeling it snug against her curves, but loose around her waist and hips, letting her move easily.

Looking deeper in the chest, Kira found an old scabbard holding an ancient looking sword, and a pair of flat heeled boots with thick leather and fur wrapped around the calves.

“All out I suppose,” Kira muttered, her new tail wagging slightly within her skirt as she pulled on the boots, and pulled the sword from its scabbard.

The woman hadn’t known what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t this; a glimmering blade of hard, sharp steel that very nearly reflected her own form back at her. Kira was astounded by its elegant beauty, the straight edges that held a sharpness after an untold time of waiting for its next wielder. Only now, holding it before her, did she recall the tale of the Wolfkin’s blade: Wurgaolt.

No one knows who forged it, who handed it to the Cozlak clan, or even why. Same with the tales of the Wolfkin itself, save that the half human, half beast had saved the clan many times in generations long past.

Kira drew in a long breath, and closed her eyes. She would gain vengeance upon the hordes that had taken her home, her sister, and now forced her to sacrifice her humanity.

Turning, she moved towards the door, ready to find her people, and lead them into a future.


The slave’s hot wet mouth was heavenly, her lips pressed firmly around the long thick cock, sliding up and down its length, soft moans muffled by the meat within her. Letting out a groan of approval, Aeltha let her hand settle on the Elven woman’s head, claws digging into her scalp as she pushed the Elf down. The head of her cock pushed back into her throat, and she gagged only slightly, moans stifled by the thick meat.

Her back pressing against the small throne carved out of bones and rock in what had once been the great hall of the cathedral before the demons had twisted and defaced it for their own amusements, Aeltha enjoyed the attentions of her slave. The slow caress of her wet tongue and firm pressure of painted lips sent shivers of lust up the demon’s spine.

The flutter of wings from above distracted Aeltha from the lustful slurps between her legs, and she frowned, eyes sliding upwards ever as her hand continue to guide the slave up and down her cock.

A small imp drifted downwards from the shadows, the short and gaunt demon landing before the throne, bowing. The act made the three foot creature appear even smaller, and Aeltha shook her head.

“What do you want?” she demanded with a grunt as the slave’s tongue slowly ran over the slit at the end of her dick.

“A report mistress. Lillium returns shortly, with two cages of slaves in tow,” the creature said in its raspy, almost nasally voice.

“Then report to the jailors, and have them prepare for the new captives,” Aeltha said, flicking her free hand dismissively.

The imp bowed once more, and with a last glance at the gorgeous Elf hungrily sucking away, he leapt up into the air and vanished into the darkness. Aeltha watched him depart, before leaning back and letting her mind slip back into the pleasure once more. A hungry moan left her lips as the slave’s fingers ran along the demon’s thighs, the Elf eager to pleasure her mistress.

More slaves were arriving, more subjects for her experiments. Lillium’s corruption was a success, but she had been one of many. The results simply were not what she needed, so she would move on. Magic was something to play with, to toy and shape with. The Elves of the Coalition with all their laws and traditions would never understand, could never achieve the mastery that Aeltha held in the palms of her hand. Everything they deemed holy and sacred would be their downfall, and without the great houses to protect them, the human kingdoms would be scattered before Yuldasha’s host like leaves on the wind.

Throwing her head back and letting out a great moan of pleasure, Aeltha’s seed erupted in the slave’s mouth. The hot, sticky cum shot down her throat, filled her mouth, dripping from her lips, splashing on her breasts, but still the Elf obediently attempted to drink as much as she could, filling her stomach with the demonic spunk.

Pulling the slave’s mouth and looked down at her, Aeltha smiled at the sight of her. The dark veins that spread out from her eyes, the irises darkened to a pitch black as corruptive magic coursed through her, tainting her. As good a whore as she was, the former magistrate had been a failure.

“Mistress, how may I pleasure you?” she purred softly, rubbing her own tits in a display of servitude.

Lillium would be returning shortly, but until then Aeltha would have to wait. For her test subjects would be following with her champion. The demoness smiled, and pulled the Elf back down on her cum slick cock, and slid back into the hot moist haven of her mouth. There was no resistance, the slave’s mind no longer her own, she merely wrapped her lips around the offered meat, and began to hungrily suck.

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