Shackles of Hate. Chapter 19: Ink on Silk

By: SinfulWolf

The harsh rattle of metal links pierced into the silence. Whatever dreams might have plagued her mind were scattered, dried leaves on the wind, as consciousness began to return to her. Viviane felt pain in her wrists, cold metal pressing upwards into the joint of her thumb, but nothing beneath her feet. Just that ache in her wrists, cold air upon her skin.

Opening her eyes slowly, she glanced down. Her feet were but inches from the stone floor, but it might as well have been miles. The chill she felt, seeping into her bones, was explained by the lack of even a single stitch of clothing. The only spot of skin concealed was her wrists, trapped in manacles. The only light was from a pair of torches that flickered in their sconces on each wall. There were no windows, only a single thick wooden door. Blood and cum stained the stones of floor and wall around her, telling their own small tales that kept Viviane’s mind reeling.

Then came the soft sensual purr from behind her, the click of those sharp heels on the stone. A shiver crawled up Viviane’s spine, making the chains holding her off the floor rattle again. Lillium came closer, the points of her claws pressing into the soft skin of her rear, and dragging along her flesh to her hip.

“Knight of Oan. Forsaken and entrapped. You are not the first faithful to enter here,” Lillium’s purr was achingly sensual. A dark sound that slithered into Viviane’s ear. She tried to pull away from that soft touch, but there was  nowhere to go. She simply swayed in the chains, as the succubus let her claws her upwards, along her firm belly to the swell of her breasts.

Then Lillium squeezed harshly, fingers splayed out, claws digging into skin to draw small rubies of blood.

“Nor the first to fall. Have no doubts of what is coming knight. That title will be forgotten soon enough. All that will matter is that you, are my whore.”

“NO!” Viviane’s shout went ignored though, the succubus moving in front of her now, letting the trapped knight gaze upon her. Upon the snow white skin, perfectly smooth, stretching over the hardness of a warrior’s muscles.

Lillium smiled, released Viviane’s breast and gently patted her cheek. The glimmering points of her fangs showed, promising more pain.

“That defiance will soon be gone. I’m just curious if it will be fear, or lust, that breaks it first,” Lillium said, turning then, her skirts flowing around her legs, the long slits up the sides showing the toned legs beneath.

Tearing her eyes away from those swaying hips, Viviane felt shame crawling beneath her skin; that she had watched this monster’s walk with anything close to envy.

The door opened then, and Lillium beckoned in the elf concubine. Viviane glanced over, watching the elf sway in, pushing a cart before her, a large cloth draped over it. When the concubine stopped, the cart just a few paces in front of the dangling knight, she looked up at Vivian. A sadistic grin curled her black lips slowly, her fingers toying with the edge of the blanket. Lillium slowly ran her fingers up Yannifer’s front, teasing at skin and leather in intervals.

“My dear Yannifer does have a glorious set of skills that she’s been perfecting whore. But no worries, she’ll not be practicing them on you. As of yet anyway,” Lillium said, flicking her gaze to Viviane, daring her to contradict the new title.

For her part, Viviane clenched her fists, but it only sent more pain through her thumb and wrists. She grit her teeth and stole herself against the pain, refusing to make a sound, but her show was for naught. Lillium laughed regardless, and the sound sent tingles down the knight’s spine.

“Good slut. It’s a start. You can feel the cracks starting already. Can’t you?” Lillium purred, gesturing to Yannifer who yanked the blanket from the cart, revealing a display or sexual toys, and torture tools. A shiver of cold fear ran through Viviane’s veins as she looked down at the display.

“I’m not going to tell you anything. I am a knight of Oan,” Viviane cried out as Lillium’s clawed fingers danced across the display of toy and tools.

The succubus softly shook her head, tongue clicking behind her teeth.

“Two lies my dear whore. I don’t take well to my subjects lying to me. Don’t worry though. I’m not going to question you,” Lillium said, her eyes narrowed as she looked at Viviane. Fear gripped the knight’s stomach.

“But you must be punished whore. You are not a knight of Oan,” she said, her fingers curling around a thick butt plug, exquisitely carved from wood and lacquered. The tip dragged across the metal tray it rested upon as Lillium picked it up and moved towards her captive. Hips swaying, breasts moving with each clicking step in the confines of her corsetted top. It was an enchanting sight, and Viviane was trying so hard, so very hard, not to take comfort, or pleasure, from the sight. But it was a faltering battle in her mind.

“And you will tell me everything I ask of you should I merely request it.”

The succubus pressed the plug to Viviane’s inner thigh, the wood perfectly smooth on her skin, before it started to drag in a slow arc over her hip as Lillium moved around the hanging knight. There was no doubt to Viviane where the plug was going, and she closed her eyes as Lillium left her vision, trying to prepare herself for what was to come. She bit her lip as she felt the toy trailing over the top of one cheek, and clenched her eyes even tighter as she felt it pushing down her cleft to her rear entrance.

Lillium though did not allow her any further preparations. The succubus made a soft groan that sent an unwanted shiver up Viviane’s spine before the toy was slowly eased inside. Each inch that entered pushing the knight open wider and wider, pain flaring through her as Lillium’s tongue slithered over a shoulder blade. Deeper and deeper the toy went as Viviane stifled her cries of pain by biting her lip harder, not wanting to give Lillium the satisfaction. She only hurt herself more, pain flaring in her lower lip as the plug slid deeper and deeper.

Finally, it was done. Fitted inside, pushing her open, and holding her there. She knew better than to argue, but when Lillium began to twist the toy, Viviane almost cried out. Her fingers curling in on themselves until her nails were pressing into her palms.

Then Lillium was moving again, leaving the plug where it was. Buried deep inside her captive. She dragged her claws over the knight’s lower back, harsh enough that it very nearly drew blood. Standing once more before her, Lillium’s fingers dipped lower, between Viviane’s thighs, and began to gently tease at her cunt, gliding along the lips of her entrance.

“You’re very wet whore,” Lillium stated, withdrawing her fingers, and showing Viviane her glistening digits, strings of juices connected them as the succubus spread her fingers wide. Slowly, she brought one to her lips, sliding it into her mouth and let her eyes flutter as she sucked it clean, moaning softly as it emerged clean of her lust.

“Would you like a taste?” Lillium asked, and Viviane shook her head. The succubus just flashed a fang filled grin and pushed her fingers upwards towards Viviane’s lips. The knight twisted her head away, clamping her mouth shut.

Until the vampiric seductress grasped her hair, and forced Viviane’s gaze downwards. Straight down into the shadows of Lillium’s inviting cleavage. The succubus continued to grin, running one finger over Viviane’s lips, smearing her juices across them, making them glisten in the flickering torch light. Until Lillium pulled harder, pain flaring across Viviane’s scalp, and making her wince and gasp in pain.

The fingers slid inside, between her lips, across her tongue, making her taste her own tart flavour. Smearing across her tongue. She thought about biting down, but the sensation of claws in her mouth made her consider otherwise.

As Lillium withdrew her fingers, Viviane spat, trying to clear out the taste. Worse, she, kind of liked it. As her spittle spattered across Lillium’s cheek, the succubus wiped it away and licked it clean with a smirk.

“Such actions do not disgust me whore. It is, however, a sign of defiance against your mistress. And that I cannot allow,” and the succubus held out her hand towards Yannifer, who unravelled the whip she wore around her waist and draped over her hips, coiling it in her hand before holding it out for her mistress.

Lillium gently took it, running her fingers over the supple leather, feeling it upon her own skin, eyes closed as she savoured such feeling. Tongue flicking over her lips, she glanced to Yannifer.

“This might be a favourite of mine. Soon, it will be yours too,” Lillium purred, starting to move again, letting the whip uncoil until it tapped against the floor and the succubus vanished from sight once again, the last sight of her being the tips of her wings pulling out of view, and the whip sliding across the floor like a tail.

Clenching her eyes shut once more, Viviane braced herself for what was to come. Her muscles tightening along her back as she awaited the harsh kiss of leather.

It didn’t come, and it only made the knight more nervous. Slowly she opened her eyes, bringing Yannifer into view, the Elven concubine standing there, hands crossed beneath her breasts, watching. But not even a sound from Lillium.

The slick wet touch of a tongue came then, trailing along Viviane’s spine to the base of her neck. Lillium’s lips pressed softly to her flesh, kissing her like a lover. And despite the protests of her mind, she enjoyed it. She let the soft groan inside her spill out as Lillium began to kiss and tease at Viviane’s neck, fangs slipping from behind those lush lips to tease at flesh.

“Tell me what you are,” Lillium purred into Viviane’s ear, nipping softly at the lobe, pulling gently, demanding the attention of her senses.

“I am Lady Viviane, Knight o-” she started but was interrupted by the crack of the whip, the leather lashing across her back.

“Lies again my whore,” the succubus hissed, and the whip struck again, making Viviane scream out, shaking in her chains, swaying above the ground as the whip made another red mark along her lower back and the flesh of her rear. A third time it lashed out, guided by Lillium’s hand expertly. Viviane could feel something hot and wet trickling over her skin from where the whip had kissed her.

“Again. What are you.”

Viviane hesitated this time, the pain in her wrists only growing as her back throbbed in agony. She closed her eyes, trying to find a centre, but the plug in her rear was a constant reminder of her vulnerability. Of her failure. Of Oan’s abandonment of her

A quick succession of strikes from the whip had her screaming. She wanted the lips and tongue back. Wanted an end to this. But there was only one way to do so. And that would be to betray everything she’d stood for.

But could she fake it? Pretend? Just to stop the punishment.

Tears rolling down her cheeks she looked over her shoulder, twisting in the air to see the woman behind her. Grinning with those moist lips curled. Glistening fangs protruding from behind those tempting lips. An image of lust. Of corruption. And for all the strength she had thought she had, Viviane was tempted. She had never faced such strong temptations before.

The whip lashed out again, its leather kiss bringing another flash of pain followed by the warm, almost soothing, trickle of blood down her back. Viviane screamed out, unable to bring herself now to call for her God.

Moving forward again, Lillium raked her claws down over Viviane’s back, her ass, and she grasped the plug shoved up inside her.

“When your mistress asks a question whore, you would do well to respond. What, are, you?” the succubus said, somewhere between a purr and a growl. She began to twist the plug, and Viviane couldn’t help but gasp, caught between pain and pleasure. She was surprised that her body enjoyed this strange sensation. It was sinful, but it felt… so good.

Slowly, the plug started to draw outwards, and Viviane felt herself relaxing as it drew further back. Until of course it was shoved firmly back inside. She let out that screaming moan of pain and pleasure again, her back arching, trying to get away when there was no escape.

“I’m a whore. Oan forgive me, I’m a whore mistress,” Viviane cried out, hoping for an end to it all.

“Oan will never forgive you. But you have no need of his forgiveness whore. You have me, and you have Morkate,” the words came from Lillium’s mouth before her lips pressed softly to Viviane’s shoulder, tongue gently easing at the broken skin she had caused. Viviane found herself relaxing again, bidden into the temptress’s graces.

A hand began to wrap around Viviane’s belly, claws gentle, teasing, working downwards, shifting towards her cunt.

“Forsake Oan. Turn from him my whore,” Lillium purred, stopping just above the dangling, self-admitted whore’s clit.

“I can’t… I can’t do it mistress,” Viviane said, forcing the last word out, hating it less this time.

“A pity. And you were doing so very, very well.”

Lillium pulled away again, smacking her palm against her whore’s ass, and letting the whip slap against the floor once more, letting Viviane hear it, letting her know her education was about to continue.

 

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The candle on the desk glowed gently, providing the light for Aela to read. Her lips moved silently as she pored over what was written in the grimoire, penned by the sorceress Aeltha. So much information, so much knowledge. And now it was to be Aela’s, to be used in service of Morkate, and her harbinger, who was now on her second day of playing with the woman who had once been a knight.

Carefully, hunched over her desk, took in the words, each note Aeltha had written down, each diagram she had drawn onto the pages. Translating it was tedious, but very rewarding with each secret unveiled. Bringing the Harbinger back from the brink of death had been but the first.

Succubi it seemed were wholly of Aeltha’s creation. Her first project to rival her mentor’s breeding of the helots. Shaped through corruption and lust and moulded into the perfect creature of beauty, lust, and temptation. Mostly humans were taken for such experiments, only the occasional elf.

There was a note on shaping only the willing. Twisting their own desires to suit Kazdruk needs. It made this new species much more loyal than fear and oppression had with others. Corrupted and then sent out to operate on their own.

There of course had been failures. Flesh had twisted into grotesque abominations, pained creatures either dead or kept in the dungeons of the spire howling in unending torment. If they had working tongues that was, or hadn’t taken their own lives. All of them stepping stones on the path to learning the marriage between human and elven anatomy, and Kazdruk corruption.

The first true success had been Ryeesh. Sultry, ambitious, and according to Aeltha’s notes, now working out to the continent in the west. But there was another, noted here. A bridge between this success and the twisted creatures that had come before.

Niseht. Shadowy, opened flesh, metal bolted to her in brutal mimicry of what was to come.

Aela frowned as she read the notes about this spy, who was as much shadow as flesh and blood. Unreported and unknown even to Yuldasha. A servant to Aeltha alone. The priestess pondered the implications of this. There was no notes of where this Niseht was, or if she was even alive. It was possible though, that the machination was working in Volgras, keeping tabs on the Harbinger. Reporting all to Aeltha.

Lillium and all those in Volgras had already acted openly against Kazdruk influence once. If Aeltha caught wind of much more, it could crumble what the Harbinger was trying to build before the foundations were even complete.

Leaning back in her seat, Aela reached for the carafe of wine, only to find it empty. She reached for the small bell on her desk and rang it. Within moments, a young woman, naked save her sandals and the black loincloth hanging from her waist, entered the room. Her skin still healing from the fresh tattoos swirling over her body, marking her forever as a servant of Morkate.

She bowed before the priestess, saying not a word, and for a moment Aela looked upon her young beauty. The fullness of her breasts, her slim waist.

“Wine acolyte,” she said, handing the carafe to the woman, who wordless took it, and turned away. She did not scamper, or scurry, as a young nervous acolyte of Oan might. No she walked with confidence, her hips swaying, while still knowing her place in this world.

For the moment anyway.

As the door closed, closing the wonderful view of the young woman, Aela turned back to her studies. She would have to ponder Niseht later. It was in a few pages she finally found something incredibly exciting; Aeltha’s discovery of vampires. The discovery of the last remaining of her kind.

The Empress Nera of Goldulin.

It was her blood that had helped give birth to the Harbinger. It seemed Aeltha believed vampirism to be the perfect method of bringing together Kazdruk corruption and human flesh. She had notes on Nera, the old religion of Morkate. Lillium was the most successful of her succubus experiments. But the sorceress feared she might have been too successful. Leaving Lillium the only one of her kind.

Aela grinned as she started reading into the procedure that gave birth to who was now the Baroness of Volgrass.

She would not be the only one forever.

 

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Leaning against the sturdy trunk of a tree, Kira stared into the night. She was not looking at anything in particular. Not the campfires that dotted their little camp amongst the trees of this great forest. Not the guards who performed their patrols in search of any Kazdruk, becoming stealthier and sneakier with their movements each night. Not even at Thaden who sat beside her, spooning a thin stew into his mouth.

Eventually Thaden broke the silence, setting his empty bowl on the ground before speaking.

“You need to eat.”

Finally Kira turned her head to regard him, taking in his scent as much as the rugged features of his face. She let out a low sigh.

“I’ll hunt when I’m hungry.”

“You have to eat something now. You may not be hungry, but you’ve barely touched anything since Volgras.”

Kira didn’t have any answer for him. Nothing that would make sense to even her mind. So she simply shrugged, unable to push away that image of her sister. Comparing what she remembered of Lillium before Atzgol, and what she had seen in the keep of their former home. The words that had come free from her lips.

And worse, the temptation she had felt from her.

“There are others that need it more than I do,” she said, pushing herself back into the conversation she had started to let slide. Her sister was almost like a toxin; she could see the fanatic loyalty her concubines held for her. That even the slaves held. Volgras had become a surreal town of carnality, and it beckoned to her. Her animal side almost salivating at the idea.

In her moments alone since the flight from Volgras, her hand had slipped down between her legs to find herself slick and wanting. And it was always her sister that flittered through her mind.

“Bullshit.” Thaden’s voice pulled her back to the present, letting those other thoughts turn to dust and fog.

“These people look to you for hope, and guidance. And after what happened at Volgras they need you to stay strong. Otherwise it will have been for nothing. And I hate having done things for nothing,” Thaden continued, and Kira leaned over, resting her head upon his shoulder.

After just a moment of hesitation, he reached up, starting to stroke her hair. Too many had died in that attack. The knights were gone, and word from her scouts told her the elves were ready to march into Driftafay once more. Kira was having some difficulty finding pity for them.

But it was all leading to one inevitable end. A Kazdruk victory.

She pondered something Lillium had said back in Volgras. About humanity surviving in the darkness. Could her sister be plotting some kind of strike against the invaders from within? Or was Kira just letting foolish hope enter her mind once again?

Reaching up to rub at her eyes she let Thaden’s scent calm her, the sensation of his fingers drifting gently through her hair.

“We need more information. Those helots in Volgras were not acting normally. They were organized, efficient. Tomorrow we need to start scouting again, and raiding. Hopefully we can stall them long enough for everyone else to stop fighting amongst each other and stand united against the Kazdruk.”

“There you are. I missed you,” Thaden said with a slight laugh in his tone, scratching behind Kira’s ear. She smiled gently and turned her head, kissing his neck softly, letting her tongue slide over his skin.

When she rose to her feet, she gave Thaden a nod.

“I’m going for a hunt, see you in a few hours,” she said, leaning down to kiss his forehead, and he gave her a playful smirk, as he leaned back against the tree, watching her vanish into the darkness.

The wolfkin had full intentions of getting herself a meal, of chasing down some prey. She knew to win, she would have to embrace the animal that pumped in her blood. When she slipped into the darkness of night alone however, she paused. Hiding herself in a thicket, the smell of deer telling her of recent passage, Kira shifted her pants down.

Laying on her back, legs spreading, she reached down to her slick cunt, feeling the heat on her fingertips before they started to push inside her. She bit down on a stick to stiffle the moans she knew she was going to cause herself as her hand began to pump into her. Her hips bucking back against the thrusting digits, making them slick with her own arousal. Her thumb canting up to find her clit and rub it firmly.

The juices of her lust started to run, over her skin, along the curve of her rear. Her tail flicked back and forth as her hips thrust upwards, the fur dampening as she continued in her lust.

There in the woods, alone, Kira masturbated. And thought of Lillium.

 

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Flaring pain pulled a scream from Viviane’s lungs. The clamps on her nipples being pulled by the chain grasped firmly in Lillium’s fist. The succubus grinning as she watched the former knight’s face twist in agony. Nipples swollen, flesh of her breasts red and puffy from the abuses she’d suffered so far, her cheeks slick with fallen tears, Viviane struggled to cling to her faith. To that shield that had protected her for so many years.

But it was getting harder.

“That’s it whore. Let it out. Scream, tell me your agony,” Lillium purred, sending unwanted shivers of want down Viviane’s spine, the words punctuated by the succubus pulling hard on that thin chain again. The teeth of the clamps digging harshly into the sensitive tips of her breasts. She screamed again, the sound echoing in the chamber.

Then Lillium released the chain, letting it gently land on Viviane’s belly. Cool, almost comforting in a perverse way. Certainly more than the painful heat from her wrists, where the manacles continued to rub her raw.

Panting, eyes half-lidded, exhausted, Viviane felt hope slipping through her grasp, spilling away into the void. Swaying slightly in her bindings, making the chains rattle slightly, she clung to consciousness, her nipples throbbing.

A single step forward, and the leather encasing Lillium’s breasts was rubbing gently over her stomach and the chain draped over it. One wing curled around the captor, and Lillium’s claws began  a slow gently ascension along Viviane’s thighs. Her eyes fluttered, unable to force herself not to enjoy this soft treatment.

Despite the sin of it.

It was the only relief she had from the agony. The clamps, the whips, the plugs, or even the claws when something that truly displeased the corrupted warrior spilled into the cell. Her home now. She was always left guessing whether pain or pleasure would come next, and sometimes they mingled into each other.

Worn down, tired, the once proud knight could have trouble distinguishing the two, her world narrowed down into a singular focus; the whims of Lillium. She did not speak, knowing the title mistress would have to slip past her lips lest she invite more ire upon her flesh. And the more she said it, the more she called Lillium mistress, the more true it sounded.

The last time she said it, Viviane had believed it.

Fingers started to ease their way into the captive’s cunt, slick and eager for what the succubus could offer. Viviane’s body was falling to temptation despite her mind’s desperate and seemingly futile struggle against it.

The fingers stopped with claws pressed tight against the barrier of flesh. The physical manifestation of Viviane’s maidenhood.

“No, mistress, please,” Viviane begged, the title seeming real. True. Lillium was her mistress. There was no other way to describe the succubus.

“I would have preferred you given this to me willingly whore. But, I shall delight in taking it nonetheless,” Lillium purred, her red eyes flicking up to stare into her whore’s own, as the fingers plunged all the way inside.

A flash of pain as her hymen was ripped open, claws making short and easy work of the fleshy wall. Viviane screamed as she was violated, that last piece of her chastity the succubus had not yet taken was gone. Blood trickled over Lillium’s fingers, to her hand as she gently pulled.

Chains rattled slightly as Viviane came closer, her naked breasts pushed to Lillium’s face. The succubus let her tongue slowly roll over that skin, tasting the blood, the sweat on them. Her teeth teasing at the nipples and clamps that held them as she started to rub her fingers.

The pain was dissipating, and once more Viviane found pleasure. Pleasure from her own violation. She moaned then, unable to stop the sound.

“You are mine whore. It matters not what you wish to give me. If I want it, I will take it,” Lillium growled as she started to work Viviane towards her first orgasm.

“Yes mistress. It is as you say,” Viviane moaned, desperate now to get off,

“Forsake Oan, and embrace Morkate as your true  Goddess,” Lillium snarled, her fingers working faster and faster, Viviane’s juices streaming over the succubus’s digits.

“I…” Hesitation. Could she forsake Oan? He had left her here to rot. To succumb to the ministrations of a creature that spat in his face with the very act of breathing. Could she not lie? But, Mistress would know. She saw through it before. And the marks on her back still bled if she twisted the wrong way.

“I can not forsake my God mistress,” the captive finally said, her voice a mewl. Lillium pulled her fingers free from the whore’s cunt, and made a show of licking the digits clean. It sent shivers up her spine, and she watched with pathetic need. Nearly enslaved by her own needs that she had not known she had. Lusts that the succubus had brought into light.

Reaching over to her side, Lillium took up a bigger plug than last time and smiled.

“I do so love your education,” she said as she came up behind the captive, and thrust the plug in without hesitation, twisting it inside her whore who screamed again, swaying on the chains, violated again. And some part of her, slowly coming unburied, loved every moment of it.

“Yannifer,” Lillium called, and the fallen elf smiled her sadistic smile as she moved to the cart and picked up a short slender knife.

“Remind the whore of where she is, and who continues to leave her here in my care,” the succubus purred, turning then to leave, Viviane watching her swaying ass the entire time.

But when the door closed behind Lillium, the whore was left with Yannifer. And she begged to whoever might be listening that Lillium return to save her from the elf’s cruelties, just before she screamed out as knife pressed to the skin of her thigh.

 

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“Quiet,” Sarya whispered, clamping a hand over Isolde’s mouth.

The centurion looked around in the dark, not even the embers of a firepit to light the night. She was still mostly dressed, and Isolde, while chilled, had stripped away her top in hopes of tempting the woman she wished to claim her would show an interest in her body.

It had not yet worked, despite the looks, despite the gentle gropes when they lay together at night. Sarya seemed single minded in this quest she had taken on for herself, and not knowing who she could trust except her whore, would not give any way for anyone to find them.

Isolde chewed on her lip knowing the truth of that last part. The whore would betray her soon enough, but it had to be done. Otherwise Sarya would die, and would never see her true potential. Never feel the simmering embrace of Morkate.

“What is it?” Isolde asked after a moment of silence. Not even the insects were out, just the wind.

“Something is out there,” Sarya said, leaning down to whisper this into Isolde’s ear, just before something snapped out in the woods. They were pressed together, Sarya’s breasts unimpeded by her armour, crushing firmly against Isolde’s.

“Probably just an animal,” the whore said, savouring the sensation for however long it lasted.

“Perhaps. But not all animals are peaceful either.”

Slowly, Sarya pushed off Isolde and reached over to pull her sword free. Moving carefully towards the tree line, Isolde watched the centurion move with sure purpose, the naked blade glinting in the moonlight.

It was just before Sarya vanished from view that a horrible screech tore out from the woods. The centurion shot straight up, sword before her as Isolde’s eyes went wide; she had never heard anything like that scream before in her life, and it sent chills down into her bone.

For a moment Sarya stood her ground, waiting for an attack that didn’t come. Eventually though, she pushed forward, into the thickets that surrounded their tiny camp. Alone now Isolde felt fear creeping up into her mind. She scrambled forward, slipping twice before finding her feet to follow Sarya into the darkness.

In the forest itself she looked around desperately, having to hold herself from calling out for Sarya, not knowing what was out there. The sound of something tearing filled her ears, but she couldn’t see the source. It was the only sound save the snapping branches she caused. Was it Sarya? Had she been found and slain?

Heart pounding like an anvil in her chest she continued to creep forward, trying to see with the few slivers of light that the moon provided through the trees.

A hand grasped hers, and yanked her down, another clamping over her mouth and cutting off her scream before it escape into the night. Isolde found herself staring into Sarya’s eyes, the centurion’s expression stern, a finger to her lips before she gestured in the direction that Isolde had been stumbling.

Curious and terrified all at once, Isolde leaned forward to see what Sarya had.

A deer stood above another one. The one on the ground dead, its guts and blood glinting much like the steel of Sarya’s spatha had. The still living one was shifting its muzzle through the massive hole torn into the side of the carcass, occasional ripping its head away, bringing hunks of meat away from the body. Strings of flesh stretching until they snapped apart.

Isolde stared, not sure what to make of what she was seeing. The deer snorted and looked towards them, its eyes glowing like two embers.

“This is not Kazdruk corruption. This is something else. Lillium is behind it,” Sarya said, and Isolde felt a shiver of pleasure despite herself. So, this was the touch of Morkate, twisting the world to her image.

“Come, there is little else for us to see here,” Sarya said and started walking away.

Isolde stayed for a moment, watching in something between reverence and revulsion, before picking herself up and following after Sarya. The deer merely bent its head back down into its meal.

 

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Time had lost its meaning. Her world had become a swirling mosaic of pain and pleasure, the sensations starting to bleed into one. Breathing heavily, breasts rising and falling, droplets of sweat and blood rolling along her skin to drip softly on the stone floor beneath her swaying feet, the voice of the succubus slipped its way into Viviane’s mind.

Demanding attention.

“I am a whore,” she said through lips aching to feel Lillium’s again, to feel the soft caress of her tongue. The answer pleased the succubus; the whip didn’t come.

Day and night didn’t matter anymore, only the dark when Lillium was gone, and the light when she was hear. She lifted her head, weak, thirsty, in agony, aroused beyond her once prudish imagination. But these last visits, Lillium had broadened that imagination. Showed her a full world full of pleasure, and despite herself, Viviane was aching for more. Before she was left to the whims of Yannifer for displeasing her mistress.

“That’s right, good girl,” Lillium purred, her claws slowly dragging over Viviane’s rear, drawing forth a moan from her lips despite the pain. Lillium laughed gently, the whore before her twisted in her chains to get closer, instead of away from her.

“Very good girl. You’ve been learning well. It might be time soon to take you down from there… but not quite yet. Soon though.”

“Yes, mistress,” came the reply, with just a heartbeat of hesitation before the final word slipped free into the room. Lillium curled her lips and shook her head, as she stood behind the whore, reaching upwards to encircle her arms around the woman. And grasp her breasts tightly, fingers digging in, claws sinking into flesh, earning another moan of delirious hunger.

“Good. Good,” Lillium purred, grasping the woman’s nipples, and twisting harshly, earning a scream straddling pain and pleasure. Viviane’s mind split between the two forever more. Lillium slowly licked her lips, standing close enough that Viviane could feel the bottom of the succubus’s tongue along her shoulder blades.

“Do you seek forgiveness whore?” Lillium purred, and lashed her tongue along the whore’s spine, feeling her shudder. Her body had utterly given up hiding the lusts bubbling up through her soul, though her mind had resisted. For a time.

“I am unforgiveable,” Viviane groaned, and was rewarded by the plug buried in her ass again being twisted.

“I am forsaken. And so… I…” she stammered, knowing what her new mistress wanted to hear. Wanted to hear her sinful confession that would damn her forever. Viviane’s mouth opened and closed a few times as the words she had been told to say readied themselves on her tongue to be spit out into the world.

“Go on. Say it whore. Say your new truth,” Lillium purred, grasping Viviane’s nipples again and pulling on them, hard enough to actually pull her full form dangling from the chains. Viviane screamed out in agony, throwing her head back as her juices gushed down her thighs. Her wrists, rubbed raw, pulling harder against her manacles.

“I forsake Oan! He is a weak God, though I am just a whore mistress.” The words tumbled free, and Viviane had meant every one of them.

Lillium grinned wickedly, releasing Viviane’s nipples, letting her sway back and forth on the chains. She moved before her whore, bloody and bruised, and ran a single claw from her lips, along her neck to her navel in a slow teasing journey.

“Good girl. I think you’re ready to come down finally.” Lillium purred, spreading her fingers wide and running them upwards, along Viviane’s hands. The whore groaned, grateful to be let down, that she might serve. She had given up everything else, and bore the scars from knife and whip from her foolish resistance.

A knock at the heavy door before it opened though had Lillium pausing before she reached the manacles. The succubus looked back as one of her concubines entered and bowed. Mia. Lillium dragged her claws back down Viviane’s body until they were settled at the whore’s hips.

“Mistress. It’s, Aeltha. In the mirror.” Mia said, not raising her eyes as she spoke.

Clicking her tongue a moment, the succubus looked up at her new whore, broken and desperate.

“Yannifer. It seems I’m needed. Do keep my new whore reminded of the words she spoke,” the succubus said, starting to walk towards the door and Mia. Viviane couldn’t pull her eyes away from her hips, the way they swayed, the swirl of her skirts.

The elven concubine pulled her whip free and grinned.

“With pleasure mistress,” she said, readying her favourite tool. Then the door closed, taking Lillium and Mia into the clutches of the castle once more, leaving Viviane alone with Yannifer.

Viviane bit her lip then, anticipating eagerly what was to come.

 

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With the little thieves Jelthra and Kamri to soon be taken care of, Aeltha turned back to her personal studies. Neicul’s beastly temperament was certainly a success. Now, she only needed to find how to control him. It certainly wasn’t that his will was made of iron now. No, it was simply that it was guided by instinct and rage. To kill, to fuck. There was little left of the old Neicul remaining, though Aeltha might be able to change that back.

If she wished it of course.

It would be interesting to twist him around her finger. It would be an easy process to domesticate him, much like the humans did with their pets. Reward good behaviour, punish the bad. But having him domesticated simply would not do. She wanted him feral. Vicious.

And when it worked, she’d give Yuldasha a regiment of savage and feral Kazdruk to be unleashed in the lands of the Northern Coalition. To run amok and ruin them behind their front lines. All of the efficiency of a Kazdruk soldier to destroy the enemy, and none of the ambition that would hamper command.

Only fitting Neicul be the first, since he had failed to get the Elves she wanted, to experiment with elven succubi.

She took up her quill to begin penning down her notes of the day, looking into one of her scrying orbs to watch Neicul in his chains. Still struggling to free himself. They had been reinforced after yesterday’s escape, as much as it had been important to watch him pursue the elf. It was not conducive to let the subject run amok of his own will. Especially when what little will was left was not the most controllable. Yet.

Then came a particular scent. Cold metal and old blood, wafting gently through the room. Her brows furrowing, Aeltha turned, and saw Niseht emerging from the shadows. The spy glanced once towards the scrying orb that peered upon Neicul, but said nothing. Instead she moved to sit on Aeltha’s desk, gently crossing one leg over the other.

“Karthelza is dead. Sacrificed by the priestess Aela to bring Lillium back from death.” the spy whispered quietly as if afraid that even in here she would be overhead. Aeltha though frowned as she took in the news. First it meant that Lillium’s people were willing to cross proper Kazdruk to fulfill their duties to their mistress; a lack of fear in their proper overlords. Secondly, it meant one of them had gone to Thorlgruz. Into her personal chambers.

Gaze turning towards the scying orb that showed Neicul, straining against his chains, veins bulging from his forehead as spittle flew from his mouth opened in unheard roar, Aeltha began to wish she was away from the spire again.

Left alone to work, to study, to advance her experiments. Instead she was here. In the heart of the vicious and violent world of Kazdruk politics. A world she made a point to excel in, lest she end up like Kamri and Jelthra.

“Does anyone else know of this?” Aeltha asked.

“No mistress. Lillium and her ilk have been careful to cover their tracks.”

“Good. My pet is starting to pull too hard on her leash and that may be expected; but it will not do to let it be known my dog escaped a bit her soldiers,” Aeltha said, nearly a whisper as she moved through these chambers that had been given her. Towards the corner where a large oval object was hidden beneath a sheet.

With a swift pull she revealed the mirror beneath. Lillium had one nearly identical in Volgras.

“Niseht, check in on Luzella and her uppity litter mate, and what they’ve done with the new toys they should have obtained by now.”

The metal and flesh succubus bowed and started to vanish from sight before pausing once again, her head tilted. Aeltha looked at her, eyes narrowed, waiting for the question she knew was coming.

“Mistress. Why involve the two warriors in this? Would it not be easier for you to deal with it yourself, or involve Yuldasha?”

Aeltha smiled at that, bearing her pointed teeth as she turned to the mirror, drawing a simple symbol across the glass to make it faintly glow green.

“Because if they succeed, they get what they want. In a way, they will owe me for it. If they fail, then it is simply more fodder for the debate I will have with our master for the need of feral Kazdruk.”

Niseht nodded once, and was gone just before the greenish clouds that had filled the mirror dissipated, revealing the young concubine that Lillium had taken. The one she’d tested Aeltha’s vampiric serum upon. It seemed to have worked wonderfully, though Lillium’s report on the matter had been frustratingly vague, and so Aeltha could not study for many effects.

“Get me your mistress.”

 

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Bowing before the mirror, showing her mistress respect, Lillium sat shortly after and kept a plain face at the look of annoyance that crossed Aeltha’s face. A dangerous game, but she had set her pieces on the board willingly.

“Mistress, how might I serve?” Lillium asked of the sorceress, seated in the spire so far from Volgras, her image slightly hazy in the swirl of green magic that made the mirror glow.

For a moment the two simply watched each other, telling each other far too much with the growing gulf of silence. And both knew it.

“You continue to do well for yourself, my champion,” Aeltha finally said, though there was no look of pride in the sorceress’s face as there might have been. Once.

“I simply fulfill my purpose.”

“And yet lands around your territory continue to be plagued with resistance, the Kazdruk invasion still slowed despite you being buried like a tick. Caravans and platoons overrun, able sorceresses left dead in the road.”

“I do what I can with but a handful of savage helots under me. I have no true Kazdruk warriors. Nor any of the more unique servants that you once provided me. Allure only works so far,” Lillium was sure to put a bit of purr into her tone as she spoke then, feeling Aeltha’s eyes upon her through the magic mirror. But there was no lust there, and that worried the succubus.

“Perhaps. Or perhaps you have merely bitten off more than you can swallow. If your forces are as dismal as you say, why attempt to take Driftafay?”

“Not to take the city, but to help drive the Coalition apart. They have only resisted so long because of the alliance between the human clans and the Elven houses.”

At that Aeltha smiled. The succubus was clever, and her activities may well work greatly with the seeds she and Yuldasha planted in Queen Aria. Sailing home as she spoke.

“The time has come for you to meet your master my pet. To come to the spire and kneel before Yuldasha.”

Lillium looked at Aeltha, to try and seek the game she was starting to enter into. But she couldn’t; the rules were changing from what she thought she knew.

“Your escort will arrive tomorrow. Be ready to depart my pet.”

With those final words, the clouds floated across the mirror again, and dissipated, leaving Lillium to stare at her own reflection. Unsure of the mirror’s full power, she did not let her frown crease her brows until after she had stood and left the room. Two of her concubines were waiting outside, looks of concern and curiosity on their faces.

“Mia, Rania. You will tell Aela and Lorth that they will dine with me this evening. We have much to discuss,” the succubus said, not bothering to fully explain the situation. But the two concubines bowed without questioning. Loyal, perfectly so. As Lillium herself was supposed to be.

Quickly walking through her castle, back down into the dungeons, Lillium embraced the lust that had been rousing within her. With a new whore waiting to be taken down, and used. Viviane wanted it now. She was dripping for it. And now was the moment to break her.

When Lillium entered Viviane’s cell, the last notes of a beautiful scream were tearing from her lips as Yannifer pulled the whip across the ground, ready to lash out again. The once proud, chaste, and noble knight looked up as the succubus entered, and a look of lust, and relief, crossed her features. That very look made Lillium grin as she moved up to table, running her fingers over one last device; a thick metal collar and a chain.

Making a show of running her tongue over her lips, Lillium lifted the collar and moved up to Viviane, closing the cold metal around her neck. The succubus had her still clothed breasts pushed tightly against Viviane’s.

“I will serve mistress. Please, just let me down. Let me, prove myself,” the woman muttered, rather eagerly. So Lillium flicked her tongue over the woman’s dry lips, feeling her shudder through her garments.

“Yannifer,” the succubus purred, her eyes flicking over to the concubine who bowed, wrapping the whip once more around her waist as she moved behind her mistress.

Reaching upwards, running her claws up Viviane’s arms, dragging the new chain with her. Letting the new whore feel that cold metal gliding over her flesh along with the sharp points of the claws. All while Yannifer slowly began to peel off Lillium’s tight garments.

Gasping, Viviane’s eyes fluttered, feeling naked flesh against her own. A lustful sin that she felt herself craving. Needing. Even as Lillium’s hands found the mannacles.

“Wrap your legs around me whore. Or else you’ll fall,” Lillium purred.

“Yes mistress,” Viviane said, feeling a surge of pleasure as the word slipped through her lips. Her legs wrapping around Lillium, feeling the succubus’s powerful thighs, the tightness of her ass. The succubus grinned, before lowering her head. Her lips, her tongue, ran over the whore’s breast, leaving slick warm trails. Fangs teased along either side of her nipple, making Viviane moan hungrily.

When the first manacle came free, Viviane let her arm drop, curling around Lillium’s back, feeling the sensual sensation of her leathery wing, fingers gliding down to the base where demonic flesh met something once human. And it made Lillium groan softly, her fingers pausing in their work on the second manacle.

Blinking, the fallen knight felt a surge of joy at hearing that sound, even muffled as it was by her breast. Lillium and Yannifer had made her role in life very clear. Her entire purpose, was to serve the whims of her mistress, and her new goddess would deliver rewards. Mistress would not abandon her as her old god once had.

One the second manacle came free, Viviane lazily let her fingers trail across the woman’s back, her wings, trying to earn another such groan from her mistress. Lillium lowered the whore to the ground, and smiled down at her.

Clad in only the armour covering her shoulders and forearms, Lillium slid her foot between Viviane’s legs, the sharp bone heel scraping across the stone. With a slight twist of her foot and body that flaunted her form, letting Viviane gaze upon perfect beauty, Lillium pressed her heel to her whore’s thigh.

They parted for her mistress, revealing the glistening folds of her cunt. Eager for pleasure, though her mouth watered to pleasure her mistress more.

The succubus’s foot moved again, toes and heel gliding up Viviane’s chest until the sharp point was pushing against a breast and pushing her back to rest of her elbows. With Lillium grasping the chain of her collar she could not go back any further.

The succubus laughed, descending, letting her legs entwine with the whore’s.

“You’re all mine whore,” she purred as she pushed her own slick cunt tightly to Viviane’s, running her hands along the chain to take away any slack that might offer the whore relief. But Viviane no longer wanted relief.

Broken, twisted, she knew what her mistress wanted, and started to move her hips, watching Lillium’s perfect lips curl into a smile.

“Of course mistress. I’m all yours,” she said, letting herself say the words, making them all the more true, as Lillium groaned, her own hips moving. Mistress and whore ground against her other, feeling the wet heat of the other between their thighs. Feeling the pressure on their clits, on their folds. Viviane’s mouth dropped open, watching her mistress, her perfection.

A twisted form of love that would have once horrified her was growing in the whore’s heart. And she embraced it as her juices dripped down onto the cold stone floor her ass rubbed against. Her body was aflame with pleasure she could no longer with without. All while she stared at the demoness who gave it to her.

By breaking her.

Lillium breaks Viviane. Art by Lucien

Lillium laughed, suddenly pulling herself away, and pulling back on the chain, forcing Viviane forward and to the ground, her tits crushing against the floor and smearing across her own juices and Lillium’s.

“Finish me off whore,” Lillium purred, laying there with her legs open, inviting. And almost drooling, Viviane started to crawl forward until her mistress’s sweet musk filled her senses. Her nose gliding over her folds before her pressed her lips to the woman’s cunt, letting her tongue slip out. Tasting her, moaning at the flavour as her fingers slid down. Down between the floor and her body. Teasing at her own pussy, feeling the pleasure as she teased herself, easing the digits inside as her tongue slid inside.

“Not yet whore. Not until you’ve learned how to pleasure your mistress properly. You’re going to need many lessons,” Lillium growled, pulling again on the chain, forcing Viviane tighter into her twat.  Nearly suffocating her. But Viviane pulled her hands away, trying to concentrate on her tongue. To pleasure her mistress.

It was all that mattered.

2 comments

  1. Nice to see you are back. I hope it will stay like that :)

    On the chapter: It might be me, but the beginning is imho a little rushed. I’m not sure how much Lilliums powers as a succubus make people around her aroused, but I felt Viviane was strugling with her emotions too fast. Also the acceptance of her whore title. Had I written it, I would have probably drawn it out over two chapters. Defiant in the first one but starting to break in the second (basically the same as this one, just more foreplay so to speak)

    Then the jumps. It was nice to have them, so the readers mind could fill in what probably happened. Yet, I for one would have liked a few more glimpses on the torture.

    But of course these are no dealbreakers. I enjoyed the chapter and I’am excited for more. Overall it had the quality I had come to expect from you. Keep it up :)

    I’am curious about what happens to Sarya. Will she escape the trap her whore has planed for her? Will she break if they get her? (If she breaks you have to be careful to ditinguish that from Viviane) Or might something unexpected happen? These questions keep one attached to it.

    I don’t know if you can/want to answer this, for sake of the plot: Morkate. Is she a real god? Or just an Icon, with no real entity behind it? Or is she maybe a being like Yuldasha or the Kazdruk matriarch?

    1. Thank ye. It’s a busy summer, but I’ll try and get some more content up.

      That’s a fair criticism. I had meant for the jumps to be a way to indicate passing time for Viviane. Alas it seems it doesn’t come across this way to the reader. That’s something I’ll have to work on myself, to make sure certain things don’t feel so rushed. To make the breaking as interesting as the break itself.

      As for Sarya and Morkate, I’ll never tell… at least, not here in the comments anyway.

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