A Necessary Evil [Prince x Insatiable]

[Dark Prince]

"I beg your pardon, my Lord Commander, but a messenger from the pass just rode in."

Brennan Eadwig, Lord Commander and High Paladin of the Order of the Light, didn't acknowledge the interruption at first, instead continuing to silently kneel before the altar in his private chapel. His longsword was gripped point down and his forehead rested on the pommel in supplication, lips moving soundlessly as he finished reciting the Litany. Prayers were a brief solace for the battle weary general, his only respite from the many worries, doubts and fears that plagued him otherwise. He still prayed three times a day, a model of faith, and his men would never dare interrupt him unless the matter was truly urgent.

Brennan's eyes opened at last, revealing light blue, almost gray, orbs that flicked to the nervous soldier standing at the door to his chapel. The man was young, a boy with a sword, but Brennan felt all his soldiers were like that these days, far too young to die. When had he begun to think such a thought? Recently he supposed, for Brennan was approaching forty and beginning to feel almost too old for war himself, although the tall, lanky and muscled body that rose from the floor was still a match for any of his much younger troops. The Lord Commander wore his full battle armor, the suit functional, plain and made of well nicked steel, with a thick white surcoat and matching cape draped over. A simple yellow star was set in the white, the symbol of Light, and was the only decoration he and his men ever wore. Aside from sleep, Brennan was always armored and carrying his sword, the dress a visible symbol that he was always vigilant in the fight against the Dark Lord.

The Paladin's eyes looked troubled as he sheathed his sword and picked up his helm, his brow wrinkling and a frown appearing. His once blonde hair had darkened to a light brown over the years, with a few strands of gray, and he wore it pulled back neatly and tied into a small ponytail. Most who met him would call his face hard, with angular lines, chiseled cheeks and a strong jaw that made him look carved from stone. Only his eyes seemed alive in that otherwise stoic face, and their piercing, intense gaze could make a man flinch. But the few that he counted as friends had seen his rare smile and knew the rumors of his good looks, particularly in his youth, were not exaggerated despite the severe and humorless mask he wore these days.

"May you always walk in the light, my son, take me to him," the Paladin said as he walked out of the room. The pair descended the stairway from Brennan's chambers, heading towards the main hall, and with ever step the calm from Brennan's earlier prayers faded and was replaced by gnawing worry. The war against the Dark Lord had gone on for longer than Brennan's lifetime, and this war was only the latest skirmish in an eternal struggle. While the alliance of Kingdoms, led by the Order of the Light, had made great inroads against the enemy, the last couple years had been frustrating with only small defeats and no progress. Brennan couldn't help but feel that they were at a pivotal point in the war, with the Dark Lord gaining in strength every day and potentially massing for a secret assault. His private fear was that the tide might swing and do so under his watch. To fail the Order, and Light itself, was a thought that tormented his sleep. He would not let it happen.

The army at the pass, from where this messenger rode, was Brennan's greatest source of anxiety. It was his largest gathering of troops and they defended a critical route from the Dark Lord's mountain strongholds. But, that army was also was meant to be an offensive force, although it hadn't moved in a year. He'd gathered it to try to make one major push to end this war forever, may Light be willing. His enemy was still weak, the Dark Lord rebuilding his physical form in the world, and if they could find and capture the talismans that provided his power and destroy them, the threat of Darkness would be ended for generations to come. If they could find them, however, which was proving to be impossible.

And now his army sat, corrupting itself from idleness, rotting from within like fruit left out in the sun, bloating until it threatened to split from it's own foulness.

"My Lord Commander," said an exhausted and mud splattered soldier who stood unsteadily in the main hall. Brennan quickly moved closer and stopped the tired man from kneeling by gripping his shoulder, nodding at him to speak.

"I rode ahead of the main troop with news that we bring a captive back. My Lord, we caught her, with the help of the Southern mages... the demon bitch," the soldier said, face glowing with joy at sharing the news, although he blushed at the end from the crude name he used. Brennan knew the name, of course, and that evil woman's many other names, like Night Witch and Dream Taker, and even the ones that soldiers didn't dare whisper before him, like Cum Stealer. Her true name was Marzanna, or Mara, although his soldiers never said it out of fear. She had been the primary reason that his largest army had been rotting in vice for the last couple years. A half-demon enchantress, a sworn enemy of the Light, and deeply steeped in Darkness, Mara had been wreaking havoc inside the camp at the pass. She came to his men in their dreams at night, either leaving them so corrupted by morning that they abandoned their vows or, in the case of his Captains and leaders, slitting their throats. He'd had to order that all his officers have guards inside their tents to stem the deaths.

"She... she is chained as the mages have instructed, but still has powers it seems. Two of the guards last night fought each other out of desire for her, and one... he killed his brother soldier to have her! We found him having carnal relations with the demon bitch through the bars of the cage we are transporting her in," the messenger continued, looking uncomfortable. Then he added with a blush, "And all of us had dreams last night... not strong ones, but troubling and sinful."

"Walk in the light, son, you have done well, confess your sins tonight," replied Brennan, squeezing the man's shoulder hard and giving him a rare smile. Turning to his assembled officers, he began to bark commands. "Prepare the top of the South Tower for her, I want her held far away from where the men sleep. Rotating guards on her door, no more than four hour shifts once a week per man. Only I shall have the key. The men transporting her will need to be sent for meditation and confession, alert the Priests..."

Brennan felt a surge of excitement like he hadn't experienced in years. Aside from eliminating a thorn in his side, Mara was one of the Dark Lord's trusted Captains. She would certainly know the locations of the talismans and have insight into his secret plans, if Brennan could get her to talk that is. She would be tough to break and that thought made his stomach churn suddenly. The idea of this sexual, depraved creature in his hands was a little unsettling, it stirred a decidedly dark thrill that he didn't expect to feel, a shameful, sinful anticipation. He'd have to confess the emotion of course, and would conquer it with the help of the Light. For the benefit of his men, though, he knew he should handle her interrogation himself. The Light was strong with him, stronger than any of his soldiers, so she surely could not tempt him, could she?

 

[insatiable]

Before she became the Demon of Lust, the Hell Whore, the Sinful Succubus, she was just a village girl, known as Mara. Marzanna “Mara” Fontane was born of a human mother, Morgan, an enchantress whom was impassioned on shielding the child from the outside world. Their residing village was fairly secular, but there would always be those who would turn their noses at how an aging woman, who had taken no vows, could birth and raise a child on her own.

For her adolescent years, Mara had no aversion to the secrecy that was her life. The duo lived modestly, but comfortably, and Mara had beaming pride in her mother's renowned powers. In fact, the darkness that cascaded her very existence strangely made the girl feel... safe.

It had been over a decade since Mara had come of age-- a decade since she left behind her home, her family, and the only life she had ever known. All, but the darkness, had left her after she was delivered anew by her Dark Lord. It was as Mara preferred. Because in the darkness, no one had cared to question her humanity.

It wasn't until a night of blinding pain and hebetic confusion when her mother would finally reveal to Mara the truth of her existence; that Mara wasn't quite human at all. Not fully, at least. Morgan had dared with the devil and willfully lain with an incubus to produce the strange halfling Mara. The source of Mara's pain was all the girl had needed to make her mother's tale believable. After all, the two adjacent lumps atop of her head, the source of her excruciating pain, had begun to sprout into small, curling horns.

Morgan grew worrisome that the great magics and sorcery she was known and adored for would become evidence of dark powers and witchcraft and Mara's health began to deteriorate. Morgan was a curer of many things, but nothing she produced with her herbs and medicines were enough to cure her own daughter. The woman grew tired, miserable, and ultimately defeated, but she had not felt the absolute worst about it all until she had returned home one evening to find darling Mara in bed with several men from the village. She could never forget their eager hands fondling Mara's young, lithe body and never could she forget the shameless remarks they made to her. But worst of all, Mara's sickly, pale complexion was returning to a healthy glow while she enjoyed every moment of the crude exchange.

Now chained and caged under the Order of Light, Mara felt an unwanted nostalgia from her days locked away in her village home. There was nothing she could do to dissuade her memories and now her mother's final words to her from flooding her thoughts once more:

“I became the devil's whore, and you are my punishment. My punishment is knowing my daughter will be a whore for many. I must repent, but I hope that one day, the gods will allow me to bring you into the light,” she told Mara, unapologetic after her repenting revelation.

Morgan had already decided, and made arrangements, to sell Mara to a brothel as a secretive, black-market attraction. Although willing, Mara tried to feel resent each time someone threw coin just to fuck the supple succubus, but she could not. She felt delight during each moment of her holes being filled and their seed being spilled upon, and into, her. Over a years span, her powers grew and concocted with her knowledge of sorcery. She had become able to intrude in the dreams of those sleeping, taking on any form from their memories. It had began as an innocent act that enabled her to lure more and more men to fuck her, but then the Dark Lord had eventually found her, and promised her all she had ever wanted without being a slave to mankind.

Mara's power had finally been matched and resulted in the half-demon imprisoned by the very humans she had grown to resent. The fact that the human mages were not only strong enough to resist her powers, but intelligent enough to capture the elusive demoness wounded Mara.

She pondered on the dreams she invaded the previous night at the camp, hopeful that some of her victims would abandon the Light and come to the aid of her and her Dark Lord.

The troops and the caravan that transported the caged demoness had finally approached the barracks and were greeted by resounding jeers and insults targeted at the infamous Mara. Mara hadn't fought the altercation, or had even spoken a word to anyone since she was found with both guards the previous night. With her strength waning and powers weakening, Mara grew reserved. Human sustenance had never fulfilled her needs and such was evident by her thin, but womanly frame. She fed on lust to survive. Only her own release, or a man's into her, would ever be enough to sustain her life. With her hands bound together tightly since her capture, it had become something impossible to achieve.

The caravan had stopped completely, and the guards outside discussed how they would deliver her safely to the tower. Mara rattled the new chains at her wrists in an attempt to get the attention of a stray guard who had been recently watching over her. Their eyes met, then ruby lips curved knowingly as his gaze briefly danced along her exposed body, before adverting away. At the time of her capture, Mara had been fully nude whilst she prepared to mount the mage that outsmarted her. For modesty sake, the guards had clothed her in a simple, thin robe, The guard that had bent her over and hungrily ravished her from outside the cage had resulted in a long tear at the side fabric, starting at her waist to show a slender leg and taunt buttock. The front side had suffered a large rip atop of her chest, exposing the plush tops of her fairly sized breasts.

“Did they train you to not make eye contact with me? That won't save you,” she warned him in a teasing, affectionate tone. The guard remained quiet, as he had been trained not to speak with her as well.

Annoyed, she continued, “Release my bonds and allow me to heal myself! I have become ill, and it would be a shame if I were to die right here after all of your efforts, would it not?” she asked. Mara hadn't expected an answer, but she at least needed the guards to take notice to her worsening condition. Her once blush complexion was already beginning to pale in the light. Her almond shaped eyes, which once gave her the impressionable look of an Eastern beauty, had began to sink and her lids began to darken. The long strands of raven hair that framed her comely face began to cling to the cold sweat. It was a misery that she hadn't felt since the very first time it had happened to her.

Before Mara could further protest, the iron door rattled and drew her attention to four heavily armed guards entering the cage. None spoke as they gathered her chains and finally escort her to the top of the South Tower. The chains around her ankles were long and loose, and bound to the hooks on the floor of her new prison. The mages who captured Mara had warned the troops of her conjuring magics, so the guards decidedly latched the chains that bonded her wrist together onto the ceiling and hoisted her arms from above. Humiliated, Mara spat at the guards after they had left the room and cursed in her learned demonic tongue.

The woman appeared so small and frail against the large, dark walls, it was almost a wonder how she had ever become so infamously feared. But bound, and with no victims in the vicinity, Mara was as helpless as any other human. Even her attempt to speak into the mind of the guard outside the door was repelled by a recent prayer by priest. Over time, she could perhaps pierce into their thoughts and manipulate their memories, but her waning health gave her no hope that she would have the opportunity.

 

[Dark Prince]

"She is dangerous, Lord Commander, I would kill her now," said the Captain that had led the troops escorting the demoness. He was exhausted, but had a haunted look from more than just two days of hard travel. "All of us feel filthy, with sinful, dark thoughts invading our minds even during the day. We stink of her depravity and the Light shines weak on our souls."

"I need to question her first," replied Brennan softly. No one dared argue against him, amongst his staff, but the Captain had displayed rare courage to stand and issue his warning. There was a muttering in his council room as the other officers and priests digested the words.

"She won't talk, she is so far in the Dark that we can't reach her," Joram said. Joram was the senior priest in this fortress, and Brennan's personal confessor. He had in private given Brennan similar advice as the Captain. The woman's presence in the castle alone set the elderly priest's hair on edge and he looked very unhappy.

"The Light has given us a gift. We are given this demon bitch for a reason, and the Light will give me the strength I need to get her to talk," replied Brennan firmly. He wasn't use to discord, his men were trained to be obedient and knew he was stubborn with an iron will. Perhaps the bitch's mere presence was already sowing trouble in their ranks? "What I must do, to break her, is a sin. Our vows are strict in that we must not harm women, unless a last resort of self defense, but I decree she is no woman, but a demoness. So my sin is permitted. I want tools brought up, from the blacksmith, the farrier and the stables. Pincers, whips, clamps, leather cords, rope, a hot brazier with coals, and a flogger from the barracks. She will talk. I swear, the Light to guide me, that the evil Darksworn demoness will tell me what we need to know to defeat our enemy. I will bear this sin for the Light, and confess it freely to Joram every night. Good night."

The list of implements, clearly for torture, brought a round of gasps and muttered comments. But, Brennan rose and walked out to end any further arguments against his decision, hearing Joram follow him.

"Old friend," Joram said softly, eyes glittering in the dark of the hallway leading to the South tower. "I fear for your soul, do not let the Darkness invade you. You have had... weakness.... before. Confess everything to me, every little emotion. Do not let Darkness gain a foothold. It is not worth the price."

Brennan scowled in the dark at Joram's reference. That incident was fifteen years ago, when he was a young fool. Surely his friend knew that he was a different person now? A man who walked always in the Light?

"Victory over the Dark Lord is worth any price," he replied and turned away from Joram coldly.

--------------

Brennan stood outside the door to Mara's chambers, a solitary room perched high at the top of a tower. There was only one door to the chambers and the two soldiers that stood outside were disciplined, studiously avoiding the Lord Commander's gaze. The key that Brennan held felt heavy, ominous, and with a grit of his teeth, he placed it in the lock and entered the room.

The implements that Brennan had requested had been placed on wooden tables, giving the room a decidedly sinister appearance. With the sun long down, the only light came from the torches in the wall sconces, which sputtered and smoked while casting long shadows across the undecorated, severe stone room. It was a grim chamber, dark and bleak, and suited for sinful work. Brennan steeled himself as he shut the door and strode into the room.

On the far wall, across from the door, Mara was chained. Brennan almost didn't see her at first, so slight was her frame and half hidden in the shadows. He walked towards her, hand going by reflex to the handle of his sword, until he stood a couple paces away, inspecting her curiously.

A small wave of relief surged through him. Surely this half-conscious, skinny, and apparently weak girl wasn't the horrible depraved, terror that had scared his men and thrown an entire army into turmoil? Her face was hidden as her head slumped forward, the black hair greasy and unkempt from her rough treatment. And the light shift she wore, dirty, torn and wrinkled, revealed a slight frame that seemed to be as thin as the pale arms that were forced above her and chained into a ceiling ring. The girl slumped against that chain, hanging from the ceiling with her knees bent, swaying slightly. It looked very uncomfortable.

Brennan's holy vow to protect the weaker sex seemed to flare in his mind and for a second he wondered if this could all be a misunderstanding, some mistaken identity with the mages giving them a camp follower instead of a demon? But no, his men wouldn't lie. This pitiful creature was Mara and Brennan grinned as he studied her. She couldn't tempt him, chained and helpless like this. She didn't look attractive at all, let alone like someone that could make him sin in a carnal fashion. So weak and small, he'd likely break her within a day without even resorting to sinful torture. And that thought made him happy, his ambition swelling as he imagined being the Lord Commander that finally defeated the Dark Lord after fifty years of war. Why had he been nervous, his men scared? She couldn't hurt him, or corrupt him, the Light shone too strong on the Lord Commander for her cheap tricks, if she had any.

"Marzanna," he said sternly, wiping the smile off his face. He'd start slow with her, see if she responded to reason and an offer of kindness. There was a bucket of water, a ladle, and a bowl of gruel on the table nearby and she looked like she needed some sustenance. "Wake up, girl. I am Lord Commander Brennan. Would you like some water, or something to eat?"

 

[insatiable]

Mara came awake at the call of her name. Her reddened eyelids instinctively fluttered open, and her blurred gazed remained focused on the dusty floor below.

“Brennan...,” was all the demoness could manage before her sultry call devolved into a breathless, weak coughing fit. In an effort to dispel the pitiful display, Mara struggled to stand on her own feet, but it had been of no use. What had been just a few days had felt like months of agony for the suffering, starving succubus. Her knees eventually buckled and she returned to hanging almost lifelessly from her chains.

Mara, who's being rarely needed rest or sleep, now struggled to remained conscious in her weakened state. Her “dreams”, once filled with the sexual debauchery of those who dared to sleep in her vicinity, were now eerily blank. The Darkness had already become her, and she reveled every sinful moment in it, but this was different. It was lonesome. It was empty. And Mara felt a terrible anxiety that this new darkness would cripple her until she was eventually, nothing. Was this the Light? It was thought of her own mother, so weak-willed and bending, made Mara feel pity for those who had done penance for their repressed, carnal desires. She knew who she was, and she could not live without lust.

“Brennan,” she resumed, her expression still shielded by her messy, dark strands, “How could they send you, Brennan, whose soul is so shamefully wrapped in his own sins?” There was a hint of amusement, and secrecy, in Mara's voice.

In one quick motion, Mara jerked her head backwards. Her raven hair flipped behind dainty shoulders, finally revealing to Brennan the face that had haunted his men at night. Pale yellow eyes replicated the beaming moon from the tower window and raked over his form in a manner that would make almost anyone feel violated.. The nervous habit of gently chewing her lips in times of distress, had given them a delicately rosy hue. But, the most noticeable was Mara's high cheekbones that had soon become flushed with color due to her unyielding smile. Even in the face of her restraints, and the intimidating row of torture tools, it was all the demoness could do to not give her captor any sense of fear from her.

“Lord Commander Brennan,” Mara repeated in a mocking manner, “Out of all the men I have I have corrupted, do you know who has the most depraved images within their cores?” She looked to him with the same curious smile, “It's those who are known to be the most righteous-- soldiers, fathers, ...priests. The more man resists this carnal nature of his, the more vicious and villainous he becomes as it festers within him. You are of no exception, Brennan.” She halted her words, and thought to herself, and I am going to enjoy making you realize just that.

“Lord Commander Brennan, I hope you do not seek to blame me for the slaughter of your solider at night's past. They both were weak, and I adored that.” Mara, insensitive about the occurrence, chuckled and gave a content sigh as the memory flooded her mind. Her new found confidence had somewhat returned her strength, and allowed the demoness back onto her own feet.

“I told them both they could have me in what ever manner they pleased. I was so deprived that I was willing to be used like a whore. I looked forward to them finding my prison chambers in the night and making me wail to my content.” Mara's hips had began to squirm uncomfortably, her ample chest expanding and contracting with each of her excited pants of breath. The craving and desire had become almost unbearable and she wasn't helping herself by getting herself worked up.

“But that fool ruined it. 'Killed his own 'brother' just because he couldn't bear the thought of not being inside of me for a few moments. Is this what the Light does to it's men?”

“They only wished to serve the Light. Unless they had done so that night, I'd most likely die before the sun rose. Then, all your efforts would have been for naught. But, here I am. And now, I am fading again.” Mara had went from daring, to needy. Her full lips pouted and her brows furrowed in a beggared arch. It wasn't hard to prove her condition, as her drained physical appearance had displayed most of it for her. But her sweat-glistened skin and disheveled hair had only enhanced the succubus' seductiveness. “Touch me, Brennan,” she said, almost commanding him. Her thighs spread in invitation and she shuddered in anticipation “Take this sin from me, or I won't live to confess anything to you tomorrow.”

 

[Dark Prince]

Brennan kept his face impassive as the captured demoness stirred. She looked so weak, pathetically so, and he had to resist the urge to reach out and help as she struggled to stand and failed. Slumped against the chains like this, arms stretched above her, she looked completely helpless and Brennan had to fight to remind himself that this was no ordinary woman. She was a servant of the Dark. An evil demoness hiding in the form of a woman. He must have no mercy.

Her first words steeled him, the venom and malice in them was unmistakeable and any lingering sympathy fled his mind.

Then Mara face's turned up to regard him and he saw her for the first time. Brennan's eyes widened and he swallowed drily, though he kept his jaw set and did not flinch from her smoldering gaze. Those eyes, unnatural pale yellow orbs, seemed to glow like flickering torches themselves as they reflected the light in the dim room. They drew his own eyes into their depths in a mesmerizing, seductive fashion, seeming to hint at sins, depravities and carnal lusts. He felt the skin of his face heat as she looked him over, her brazen inspection making him feel naked despite the full armor and thick surcoat he wore. And now that he could see her, her couldn't deny the appeal of her features despite the evil smile she gave him. With pale white skin contrasted with full red lips and flushed cheeks, she didn't have a pure, maidenly beauty, but rather oozed a raw, sensual and very sexual desire. Pretty yes, but in a way that only led a man to sinful and carnal thoughts. Even in her pathetic state, he could see how that face could haunt a man's darkest dreams.

It was terrifying to Brennan, yet, at the same time almost thrilling to behold. Like he was playing with fire that could consume him in a second.

"The Light is my armor and my shield. Your poisonous tongue cannot breach that defense," replied Brennan stiffly. His eyes hardened and he fought back the urge to slap her, anything to shut her up. No, that wouldn't be right to do at this moment. Let him try the honorable path first. "All men have sins and weakness, only those that stand fully in the Light need not fear the Dark."

Her next words sent a surge of anger through the stern Paladin. The death of the guard and corruption of his brother soldier was just her most recent sin, one of hundreds of murders she had likely committed in her lifetime. She would pay, Brennan swore silently, once he had gotten what he needed from her.

"That man's death was by your hand. As well as countless others of my soldiers. I cannot attempt to even reckon your evil, for the true magnitude of your sins is known only within your own dark soul. Yet, even in the darkest of creatures, there is some Light. Even such a Darksworn, foul, and evil demoness as yourself can have redemption if you truly seek the Light. I will show you the path, if you desire life over death," replied Brennan in a measured pace. He knew she was unused to kindness and had lived so long in the shadow that she might not even comprehend what he offered, but he had plenty of time to convince her.

When she asked him to touch her, Brennan scowled, assuming some trick as his mind began to spin. What was she talking about? What did corrupting his men have to do with her dying? What did she mean by fading? Then her sultry gaze hit him full force and all he could think about was the inviting way she parted her legs. Even hidden under her torn shift, the sexual motion was unmistakeable and his mind was drawn to that sinful, taboo part of woman's body that she was clearly offering to him with that gesture. She wanted him to do something filthy to her. Something carnal and lustful. She was trying to seduce him. The shudder in her body caused a reciprocal shudder in Brennan's frame. It was a tortured reaction to the shameful realization that his body was betraying him, the desire he felt for Mara undeniably carnal now. His mind, so pure and free of temptation in a normal day, was feeling strange, repressed urges that made his cock stir. The idea of seeing Mara naked had filled his head and Brennan struggled to clear it.

Light protect him, he would not fall victim to her tricks!

"Shut your poisonous mouth, bitch!" Brennan snarled as anger filled him, overwhelming the lust that had been growing. With no warning, he gave the pouty faced demoness an open handed slap across one of her flushed cheeks. The strength of the blow was enough to turn her face and send black strands of hair fanning out like a twirling dress. He immediately exhaled in quiet relief at being freed from her seductive gaze and then his jaw fell as he realized in horror exactly what he had just done. She looked so helpless again, head slumped sideways and hair in disarray, and Brennan frantically had to remind himself that she was a foul creature of the dark, not a woman. Turning, he went to the table and poured a flagon of water. He suddenly craved a glass of wine himself suddenly, still shaken by his violent act. After another quick breath to steel himself, he spun back to face her again with his jaw set. "When you lie to me, or try to deceive me, you will be punished. I am not afraid to hurt you to get the truth. The Light forgives sins done for the greater good. Now here, drink some water, you just need food and water to recover your strength."

As Brennan offered her the cup, placing it below her red lips, he had another shudder. She had driven him to rage and forced him to hit her, which was deplorable, but even worse was the realization he had now had that he had enjoyed striking her. The sense of power, control, and importantly, joy at getting her to finally shut up, had been more fulfilling than his shame at striking a woman. He wasn't supposed to like interrogating her, it was a sinful, terrible task. Yet now, as he studied her, the idea of breaking this prideful, evil bitch to his will was making him tremble with anticipation. She was so haughty, so evil, and so disdainful of him. How sweet would it be to have her respect him? To get her to obey him willingly? And, of course, to force her to not try to seduce him again. That was most important, as he did not wish those carnal lusts to tempt him again. He was strong, but those desires were insidious. Perhaps he should be more forceful with her? His anger gave him strength and let him resist her temptations, a form of armor against her charms. Yes, the stick might be the best approach, as the carrot was proving too dangerous for his own carnal urges to handle.

"Drink up, Mara, you just need to get your strength back."

 

[insatiable]

Mara clenched her eyes shut and winced at the strong, angry hand that whipped across her delicate face. For a moment, she remained helplessly frozen in the aftermath with her face turned and her battered, raven wing of hair shielding her true expression. Behind it all, Mara hid a delightful smile. The ache at her cheek was throbbing, painful, and even humiliating... but it was still better than feeling the nothing that she felt whilst she rotted away in the prison of the Light.

Only after she had heard his footsteps retreat did Mara's pale eyes and return to focus on her captor. Her enchantress upbringing, coupled with her inherit demonic powers, had given the demoness an incredible sense of perception. She could nearly taste the dark secrets and desires that plagued the core of certain humans, and it made targeting her next victim an effortless task and allowed her passage into manipulating their dreams and invading their memories. Brennan was no different. She could sense the regret and shame from him after his violent reveal, and the anger he had for both her and himself for allowing the deed to occur. But, it had only stirred her appetite more and now she craved to sink her teeth into him and taste all of the resent budding within. Mara even wondered if she could make him fear her pretty face, as she had done to so many of his soldiers.

Mara gazed down at the offering before those full ruby lips wrapped at the cup's edge and allowed herself a few sips. “I have not lied, nor have I deceived you, Lord Commander,” her voice had become clearer and more alluring after the drink. “I am no possessor, but an enchantress. If you strike me, it is because, just alike your murderous solider, you truly desire it. Is that it, Brennan? Do you enjoy hurting a defenseless woman?” She now interrogated him.

Her eyes had met his again, but the moonlit orbs had looked more strangely vibrant than before.
Once again, her lips coupled at the cup and she closed her eyes, tilting her head back and drinking with her lips suggestively parted. Her mouth had overflowed, resulting in a stream of water that seeped from the corner of her mouth, and raced down her slender neck, past her deep collarbone, and into the threadbare cloth that began to cling to the cold beads of sweat upon her chest. Mara couldn't help but to release an anxious moan at the refreshing sensation, for her body was burning and boiling uncomfortably with desire.

“There were a time where I would happily eat your gruel, drink from your waters. I once lived as a human, Brennan. I was born from one.” Mara pondered the guilt he would feel about her claim of humanity, and she could almost feel sorry for his weakness. “This anger you feel... the lust, the desire that you choose to hide,” she closed her eyes, groaning softly as her body shuddered in dark fantasy, “I feel this tenfold, at all moments, wake and rest. No amount of Light, or water, will cleanse me of these feelings. I was delivered into this, and yet, you seek to punish me for it?”

“Nothing else will sustain me or return my strength. I've been in the face of death only once before, and I had only recovered once I had accepted myself as the slut I was made to be.” Shameless, she proudly grinned, “I've opened my legs and my mouth and begged to be filled and fed with cum. I know no pleasure greater than my sinful cunt being ravaged by cocks. I've come to love the regret and shame I once felt as a human, because I cannot live without it.”

Mara's hips squirmed anxiously while she reveled in the thought of her own fantasy. After being forced into solitude with not one to solider to prey on, the demoness had become on edge with her own carnal desire. The immoral propensity she sensed within Brennan made her smooth, bare pussy throb and trickle with excitement. Ever since she had graduated from the brothel and into the Darkness, Mara hadn't needed to beg for sex anymore. With the help of her Dark Lord, she had began to take what she wanted. Would she need to beg Brennan to use her body this time? Would she plead with him to touch her pussy until she screamed in ecstasy?

Then she remembered the weakness within him; the faltering shame he felt for striking her and the unnerving pity in his eyes each time he surveyed his frail form. Mara, prideful, had of course detested it, but perhaps she could make him feel sorry for the human within her?

“I will not satisfy any of your questions, not unless you ensure I will survive throughout my stay here.” Mara had decided. “If you won't allow me to drink the cum from you, nor will you empty it within me, then you must purge me with your own hand.” Sensually, she motioned her supple body toward his. Her legs parted once more and caused the damp cloth that hung between her legs to cling between her thighs, faintly outlining her lush, wet petals.

“Push your fingers into me, prod and play with my pussy until your hands are covered with my essence. I need to drink it... please, my Lord Commander.” A pink tongue ran across her lips in a desperate taste. Her eyes, half-lidded, showed a despairing plea but were still hinted with venomous spite as she added, whispering, “With a shrouded soul like your own, I know you've explored a woman before.”

 

[Dark Prince]

Brennan fought to keep his face impassive again and his eyes unflinching on this she-devil's evil yellow orbs. Just giving her water was proving to be a difficult task as she somehow managed to transform even that banal act into a sensuous tease. It was those lips that did it, full and red, brushing against the edge of the flagon and parting so invitingly as she let the shimmering liquid slide past them. She seemed to suckle at the cup like it was something else she wanted between her lips. Or was that just Brennan's own repressed, sinful thoughts making him imagine his cock resting at that tempting opening?

"I would never hurt a woman, but you are a light cursed demoness. Trust me, I feel no concern about sin in my actions tonight," replied Brennan icily. Mara drank again, this time even more provocatively, arching her head back and letting Brennan pour the water between those half-open lips, showing him the dark red mystery of the inside of her mouth, her pink tongue rolling temptingly just past her teeth. The water overflowed that inviting hole before Brennan realized he should stop pouring. Like a shameless hussy playing with a man's spilt seed, Mara let it leak out the corners of her mouth, trailing down her chin and throat as Brennan's eyes followed the trickle by reflex. It headed down her chest and disappeared into the cleavage the girl's thin and coarse shift poorly hid, with the pious Paladin's suddenly dirty mind following it further in his imagination. Her lewd moan made him snap his eyes up and he frowned, letting anger fill him again to quell the desire she had begun to flame anew in his loins. He pulled the cup away and thought about slapping her again, but forced his body to calm.

Her next words softened the hatred Brennan had begun to fortify in his head as she reminded him that she was part-human and once an innocent girl. Her story was shocking in the vulgarity she used, describing with such lust the slutty, carnal and sinful depravities she had embraced as she had turned to the Dark. Brennan listed with growing, prurient excitement as she hinted at the acts she had performed and now claimed she needed to live. The filthy desires she had were beyond even his most shameful, secret dreams of what a woman could willingly enjoy. When she mentioned how she needed to be filled and fed cum, his cock twitched beneath his armor at the image in his head of his cock giving her the hot seed that she craved. And then she was begging him to touch her. Claiming she needed it to live. The language she used was just too vivid for Brennan to ignore, each vulgar word sending hot flashes of lust through his repressed mind and making his body respond. Touching her most wicked spot was starting to consume him, the idea of her hot, intimate flesh in his hands. To feel a woman again was so tempting, especially when she called her sacred spot a cunt. The word alone sent a shiver of need through his tortured body. It was too much, he was losing control again and even if he could ignore her artfully writhing body, her dirty words were more than enough to stoke the building fire of lust in his groin.

Brennan took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second to purge his mind, and then shook his head sternly, gathering all his strength to speak in a measured tone.

"Too long in the dark and a person is blinded by the smallest amount of light. There is Light left in everyone, you just need to embrace the tiny spark you have. Accept the Light into your dark soul and you will have your salvation, even freeing yourself from this.... curse," Brennan said at last. The next part was more difficult and his heart raced and cock stirred again as he spoke, his tone getting angrier and hotter until he was half yelling at the end. "I have sinned, none of us can be in the Light at all moments, we only strive for it. Yes, I have had carnal pleasures before I took my vows. And, to my shame, even after I took the vows I sinned again. But I have confessed all and walk in the Light today. I do not deny your demonic charms arouse me, your perversions so exotic they twist my pure mind, but to hide the effect would make me ashamed of them and give you power. I am strong enough to resist you."

Was his last sentence a show of his strength to impress her, or designed to buttress his own faltering courage? Brennan didn't know, but knew his face was likely flushed with passion now as he tried to let anger displace the lust she was inciting with her writhing body. The two hot emotions were warring, so close to each other in their effect on his body, and the Paladin suddenly feared that his anger might stoke his lust further instead of displace it. He reminded himself to use his hatred and let that dark emotion burn brighter. She was evil. A killer of his men. A darksworn and foul creature of nightmare. This evil bitch thought she could break him, when she was the one tied up and at his mercy? She was helpless, a demon in the guise of a woman playing on his sympathy and repressed sexual desires. He would show her that he was a man to be feared, a hard man that could not be corrupted. A man she would dare not trifle with.

"You want to fucking cum? You want to live, bitch? I'll give you pleasure with some pain for the evil you have done!" Brennan suddenly yelled at her, eyes raging with fury. He flung the flagon aside to clink loudly on the stone floor and seized her by her throat with one of his powerful hands. Choking her, he lifted her from her knees and held her so she was forced onto her toes before the much bigger man. Another slap across her cheek followed, this time with his gripping hand on her throat holding her face in place to take the full force of his blow. "I don't care about hurting you. You are not a woman. I'll feed you your own foul juices, your own cunt's vile evil poison, I'll make you live until you give me what I want. Every bit of information about your Dark Lord that your twisted mind possesses. I'll have you begging me to let you cum and wishing you had even more information to give me."

Brennan fumbled with her shift, trying to get his hand under the ragged garment, but wound up grabbing it by its short hem and yanking it savagely in frustration, tearing the slit on one side halfway up her flank, and exposing more of her pale, tempting flesh. He slid his hand between her thighs with an angry roar and let out a hissing exhale of surprise as he found her mound shaved bare, like some mockery of an innocent young girl. It seemed this slut had no shame and he forced himself to make that anger him, instead of arouse him further. His hand finally found a grip on her slippery sex, cupping her full lips firmly and feeling that tender, juicy flesh squish in his palm as he began to rub her. Damn, she was already wet, dripping with desire onto his calloused and scarred fingers. Her evil cunt felt unnaturally warm in his hand, burning him like he was holding hot coals. Pushing her backwards using the hand on her throat, he slammed her into the stone wall with a loud jingle of the chains around her wrists and ankles. Pinned like that, his hand barely loose enough around her throat to let her get ragged gasps of air, he started to rub her hard and fast, her juices spraying with his violent, assault on her slit.

"Is this what you want, you dirty evil slut?" Brennan growled, inches away from her face. His fingers were drenched and he began to plunge two of them deep into her hole with every stroke. Her passage was even hotter than her folds and he wriggled his thick digits in her roughly, stretching the tight walls and almost shaking her entire body with the aggressive motion. Blood was pounding in his head and all he could hear was his own panting breaths, the jingle of her chains, and the loud slurping and smacking noises coming from between her legs from his violent fingering. He pulled his dripping hand up and smeared her juices over her face, coating her forehead, cheeks and lips with the clear liquid before finally shoving fingers into her mouth to suck clean. "You want your own cunt juice, then eat it."

Brennan was flushed now with anger, his face almost red. His hand went back to Mara's pussy, rubbing and finger fucking her now harder than before as the grip on her throat pulsed tighter at times. He was going to get her to cum as fast and roughly as possible and give her as little joy as he could. Let feeding her, if that was what this was, be as uncomfortable and painful as possible. This close to her beguiling face, those yellow eyes inches away, he had to fight to keep his anger burning. The smell of her slit was everywhere now as her skin glistened with her evil fluids. A heavy, musky odor that Brennan hadn't smelled in years was filling his nose. It reeked of evil, desire, sin, sex, and of course, womanhood. Dimly, he was aware of how aroused he was as his hand pumped against Mara's slit. His cock was uncomfortably hard, straining underneath his metal armor as it pointed straight down one of his legs. Fuck, this was going to be difficult.

"I'll make you cum... make you fucking live... make you talk you bitch... I own you."

 

[insatiable]

The powerful hand at Mara's throat had seized any impertinent response to his angry outburst, and left the succubus gasping and choking on her own poisonous words, “You want me to live. You, make me cum,” she barely managed her subtle demand against the increasing pressure. But the retort was immediately punished by another angry hand across her reddened cheek. With her hands bound and chained, her insidious instigation had become her only weaponry, and Brennan seemed resolute to rid her of that as well. Mara's alabaster-white face was now flushed with anger, furious at the pathetically weak display he had remorselessly transformed her into. The irony of the vulnerable men she had mounted whilst her own dangerous hands crushed the life from their own necks had cut into Mara like a cruel knife that demanded regret and penitence for her actions. Instead, she craved the chance to punish Brennan for afflicting her with the sliver of empathy.

In a boast of fearlessness, Mara's cold stare remained locked onto his, but her odd eyes were soon overshadowed in the anger of his own. It was clear to her that she was overpowered by the commander, but the succubus still had some sense of contentedness hidden deep within her half-lidded orbs. As much as he dehumanized and threatened her livelihood, he needed her alive, and that neediness had become her solace. Even in the face of his fury, she could hardly conceal her triumphant smile as he spitefully promised to feed her from her own, hot cunt. But when he had finally met his hand against the exposed, juicy flesh, Mara froze. Her dimming eyes widened in shock.

The wave of pleasure rushed from her chest. throbbed deep into her flowing sex and into his cupped hand, and the sensation seemingly washed away the resentment Mara had for this cruel captor of hers. The anger, the spite, the atrocious images of revenge she had concocted especially for Brennan... they were all gone, and replaced with the overwhelming hunger for more of his touch. That confident demeanor that the demoness once boasted melted into worry. What was this feeling that now consumed her? Was it desperation? Fear? No... she wanted this. She was so eager for the mild mannered commander, who had started off treating her with kindness, to reveal himself as the perverted brute that she believed all men truly were. But the past fruitless nights in their prison had left Mara's neglected cunt sensitive to the smallest touch. And her body could hardly contain itself once the hand began to aggressively assault the dripping, lush lips.

Her back arched away from the stone cold wall, and gasping moans struggled to emit from her clenched throat and gape mouth. Shapely hips squirmed like they were fighting against his hand's violent prodding, though Mara's sultry were lips were repeatedly mouthing for “more”. Her tight walls accepted his fingers each time they entered her and would clench tightly each time they withdrew as if she never want them to leave her pulsing wetness.

Although her gaze was leveled with his own and close enough to taste his excited panting breath, Mara was lost in her own pleasure and unable to focus on anything that wasn't the ecstasy between her slick thighs, or the delight of aromas that filled the room Sex, sin... she could even taste his blood in the air as it rushed to his head, as it circulated and throbbed through his hand at her throat, and especially as it rushed down and stiffened his cock. Mara was euphoric with just the thought of him piercing his cock inside of her, pumping her full with his length until he released every repressed drop of cum into her. Eager was she to soak in his semen, and to taste the secrets he held and hid for the sake of his “vows”. He was so resistant to her temptations, and it had only made her crave him more.

Mara sensed his hand raised before her, hot and drenched with her demonic scent. Her tongue was out, and her mouth gaped wider like an obedient pet desperate to be fed, but instead was insulted at his choice to paint her face with her fluids before allowing her to taste. Her warm, hot mouth sucked hungrily on his fingers, lapping her skilled tongue between them and coating her entire mouth in the heat of her cunt. Yes...

It's effect was almost instantaneous, and Mara's haunting eyes returned to focus. The sweet, satisfying taste had stricken the succubus with inspiration and Mara began to evocatively drag her red lips back and forth along the length of his fingers. Her head wildly tilted side to side, slurping and smacking loudly on his digits before she gave a deep swallow that pulsed against his palm at her throat and trapped his fingers between her tongue and top of her mouth. Yellow eyes watched him as she pulled away, slowly and provocatively, that slutty mouth creating a lewd suction noise once his fingers were finally free of their wet prison. Her lips creased to their forgotten, bold grin,

“If only you would have fed me from your cock instead. Then we both could have enjoyed it,”

Mara knew it was in her best interest to stay quiet, and she even felt herself brace in preparation for another sharp whip across her face. It hadn't mattered. She enjoyed his rage. For it was not she that he was afraid of, but rather the anger and lust that coiled around his tainted soul and shamed him before the Light. And as he dared further with her dangerous game, it would only draw it out and ultimately consume him. Mara had learned that quickly after she had crossed over. In the Dark, could one rid themselves of the guilt of what the world deemed “sins”. After all, sins were just desires that deserved to be satisfied, so said the dogma of her Dark Lord. She could almost pity Brennan. Why were some humans so devoted to a creed that hated them so, that forced them into misery disguised as piety? That stripped them of what made them human?

Her slender, bare feet trembled in their uncomfortable arch, and her lungs were desperate in their attempt to collect air from her gasping breaths, “Brennan... how does it feel to be tempted by a creature such as myself? You say I am no woman, but your cock rises and hungers to be baptized anew in my hot cum. Have you no shame in that--?”

She found her words, again, choked and frozen in her throat by his grasp, then replaced with sharp, excited gasps from her now stiff lips as his hand continued it's assault. Her head, heavy with blood, began to fall backward from his grasp, and her eyes rolled back, hidden beneath her frantically fluttering eyelids. And then, finally, the pleasure she had craved, the release that she hungered for so badly, now rocked her body like a feeble sail on an angry sea. Waves of bliss rushed down her exposed body, twisting her core with a sensual grip that caused her to cry out in her demonic tongue. Her arms pulled towards her restraints, making her collarbones flex and stretch like wings that wanted to fly free.

And then, Mara's vision had gone blank. The blood that coursed through her head muffled his words, leaving her in a post orgasmic stasis. Her pulsating pussy began to ooze cum with wax-like heat, and it ran in clear rivers down her inner thighs, dripping into small pools onto the ground. His hand was covered with her sweet drink. Her senses returned and she looked to him expectantly, her eyes glassy with fever and hungry for her own orgasm.

“Now, feed me. And I'll talk.”

 

[Dark Prince]

Brennan felt like he was in some haze of dark lust, with his boiling anger the only light keeping him from falling into blackness completely. Her filthy tongue continued to tempt him, planting images in his head that swirled in hot flashes before his eyes. His cock in Mara's mouth instead of his fingers, her sucking it dry, cheeks hollowing and filling with the effort. Or his cock impaled in a far tighter hole, that hot cunt where his fingers were again buried as he glared at her glistening, cum covered face. Her evil musk was everywhere, filling his nostrils and making his loins burn with desire. Every word she made, expression on her face, and writhe of her body seemed to just make him hotter. How his cock longed to be freed and the sudden, strong desire seized him to wield that flesh sword and stab it into her again and again. The bitch deserved it.

"You foul evil slut, you think you can tempt me?" Brennan snarled back at her, embracing his anger again with a forceful effort. Feeding with her her own juices seemed to give the demoness color and energy again, her attempts to tempt Brennan were getting stronger as life and energy returned to her weakened body. "You know I'd like to shove my cock in your filthy mouth and stop you from speaking. That I'd want to fill you with my seed. I'll not bother denying that... all men fall victim to your corruption in their head. But I'm strong and will not give you the pleasure of my cock. Never will I put it in a darkspawn slut like yourself."

Shoving her against the wall and fingering her hard and rough to an orgasm seemed a strange punishment, but the act let Brennan vent his rage and frustration. It was a brutal finger fucking, one that would have left a normal human woman screaming in pain as well as pleasure. This harlot took it easily, almost seeming to find Brennan's rough touch arousing, like something she truly enjoyed. Her orgasm certainly seemed unlike any woman's response that Brennan had witnessed in his limited history. He watched with unrestrained fascination as she stiffened under his hands, her head rolling back and eyes lidding shut as her breathing turned to ragged, strangled gasps from pleasure alone. The demoness' body twitched and shuddered, her tight passage quivering and gripping his plunging fingers in spasms of pleasure, as she arched and violently and seemed to explode upon his hand. It was hot to watch, so decadent and sinful was the pleasure she seemed to experience that it only fired the repressed hunger in Brennan's head. He'd never cum like that, been rocked to a mind shattering, helpless orgasm, and he couldn't deny that her massive, body quaking cum made him envious, if only because of the relief that it seemed to offer from his own heated emotions.

"You have your cum, now clean up your filthy mess," growled Brennan. She'd soiled even the floor with her abundant evil juices and a puddle gathered in his palm as still more oozed out of her cunt. It was disgusting, or should be, but as he lifted his hand to shove it in her open and eager mouth, he was tempted to lick it himself. With a groan at the impure thought, he jammed his fingers between her lips, forcing two, three and then all four of his big digits into her mouth as he let her suck his hand clean of her evil arousal. Brennan's hand went back and scooped up more fluids from her still dripping slit, feeding it back to her as roughly as the first time. She wanted it, was hungry for it, and Brennan felt a mix of disgust and uncontrollable lust building at her open depravity. His voice was hoarse and thick with emotion as he barked at her again, "Eat your cunt juice, bitch."

Feeding Mara her own drippings became a mindlessly simple, but almost magnetically compelling act for the devout warrior. Yes, he was going to force this dirty slut to be clean, to make her eat the evidence of what his hand had caused. His fingers scooped her clear, musky arousal from her thighs, teased it from her still hot mound, even scraped it from the floor, and he fed it to her roughly, forcing her to lick every nasty drop from his fingers. Finally, when he couldn't easily find anymore, he slapped her face again as it glistened with a sheen of her own cum, as if to punish her for making him do this depraved act. His fingers tightened around her throat as he panted in front of her, his own face red with anger and lust.

"Now tell me, Mara, which fortress is the Dark Lord hiding in?" Brennan growled, shaking her lightly with the hand around her neck. He used his other hand to tug on her shift, ripping the slit more until it split on one side of her completely. It hung from her shoulders, but was now open in the front and revealed her naked body freely. Her breasts hung temptingly below his head and he allowed himself one glance downward at them, eyes tracking her swinging mounds and feeling his desire building again. He caught one of those soft globes, squeezing it hard, before letting it go and giving it a vicious slap that set it to jiggling. "Tell me where, or I'll have to give you pain, not the evil pleasure you so desperately seem to crave to live."