A damsel in darkness. (Sixth x MissMae)

The dungeon they dragged her to was unremarkable, as far as dungeons went. The roughly hewn stone that crafted the walls, floor and ceiling was cold and lifeless, the iron bars that fronted the cell were rough and corroded by time. The only furnishings were old shackles that hung from the far wall, and a wooden bucket intended for the captive's leavings.

A sickly green, skeletal imp vacillated from foot to foot, wringing his hands gleefully as he looked upon the newest charge. His master would like this one, oh yes. They would be rewarded for their accomplishment, the master would be pleased. The second had gone to fetch their master from his chambers to view the girl they had brought for him. "Go," Xyranthus had commanded the bat-eared minions, seated at his writing desk. "And do not fail me, else your hides will adorn my walls while you are still within them."

The imp suppressed a squeak of fear at the sound of his masters' heavy, cloven footfalls announcing his impending arrival. In his own residence, Xyranthus rarely bothered to adopt his more humane form. The beast spared not a single glance for the minion that had brought him the glorious prize, despite the predatory way his lips pulled back across his teeth at the sight of her.

He was pleased.

"Well," came the single word, and the sound was velvetty, dangerous, and otherworldly all at once. "Aren't you a delicate thing~"

The dungeon was dim, dank, and smelt of odors so foul she dared not to think about what made them. Mae's formerly elegant clothes had been reduced to little more than scraps following the events of her capture, long scratches and some bruises marking her usually porcelain skin. Her blue eyes watched the imp's every move, half-lidded with pain and exhaustion, but still ever so fierce. She wasn't about to go down without a fight, no matter what she was going to be faced with.

Her attention was drawn by the loud clacking of cloven feet, echoing through the dungeon, drawing ever closer to where she was imprisoned. The monster that came into view was beyond anything she could have imagined, her heart clenching in her chest as he eyed her up and down. His voice was like poison to her ears, making her skin crawl in disgust and she didn't grace him with a reply.

Strong fingers closed about an iron bar, shedding flakes of rust. They went unnoticed by Xyranthus as they flittered to the stone floor, whose eyes remained trained intently on the crumpled woman. They roved appreciatively over what was visible of her form, his long tail making ominous swooshing sounds as it swung idly back and forth in the darkness.

“Hmmmm…” He rumbled. “It is most unladylike to ignore such a… compliment…” The word slithered from his lips, and he relinquished his grip on the iron bar. He stalked slowly towards the gate, allowing his clawed digits to casually strike each bar as he passed them. Most of the women he had been brought by his minions had cried uncontrollably, pleading and begging for their freedom. Desperation was pleasing, but it quickly grew tiresome if there was naught else. No fight, no fire. Vessels such as those were unworthy of his seed; despite how aesthetically pleasing they were to his cock. But this one… This one seemed different somehow; he could taste it in the air already.

“I shall be most displeased if you will not offer me the sweet sound of your voice…” Both hands clutched the iron of the gate and rattled it suddenly, filling the chamber with the harsh sound of clanging metal in an attempt to make the girl shriek. The green imp pressed himself into the corner, trying to be invisible.

“Though I suppose it does offer me the opportunity to make you…” The threat was punctuated by the agonising sound of the key turning in the lock.

Mae continued to watch him wearily, not daring to take her eyes off of him for even so much as a minute. He eyed her up and down in the darkness of her cell, clearly finding some sort of pleasure in what he saw. Well, if it was her voice that he wanted, then it would be the last thing she would let him have. The sound of his claws on the bars echoed throughout the dungeon, ringing one after another as he continued down the line. While his sudden grabbing of the bars made her body start, she remained perfectly silent, glaring him down through the darkness.

His poisonous voice resonated with the sound of the key turning in the lock, the door to her cell creaking open. His intimidation techniques did nothing but steel her resolve, bracing herself as he approached her. Finally, when he was close enough, she spit harshly at him, saliva hitting him directly on the face.

Xyranthus stood imperiously over her crumpled form, dominating much of the cell. He was not enormous in stature, perhaps measuring a few inches taller than the average human man; but he commanded an impressive presence. His spindly, leathery wings, held quite close to his back, twitched almost of their own accord when she spat at him. The demon grinned malevolently, making no movement to wipe his face clean of the saliva.

This one was spirited. He could feel his arousal mounting already.
“Temper temper.” he cooed, stepping around her inert form. He was completely oblivious to the return of his second until the two imps began chattering in their irritatingly nasal voice. Xyranthus had been about to reach out and stroke a claw along the princess’ porcelain skin when his reverie was interrupted by them.

“Be gone!” he boomed suddenly, wings flaring to fill the cramped space. He crouched over the woman almost protectively, glaring at his minions. “She satisfies me.” With that his attention was returned to the woman, and he grasped her roughly by the shoulders and thrust her onto her back. What remained of her garments was torn from her frame, and the creature looked upon her naked form approvingly.

“I am in more than half a mind to claim you now.” He muttered, perhaps more to himself than her. One hand left her shoulder to find her breast, kneading the flesh roughly. “But if you agree to behave… I might be inclined to bring you to my quarters first, where you will find comfort at your back instead of stone. It matters none to me whether I take my pleasure from you here or there…”

His smile was wicked as he wiped his face clean, Mae still watching him with cold eyes. She didn't dare look away, even as he circled around her, and the anger in her gaze was as fiery as ever. Her body startled when he lashed out at his minions, his leathery wings suddenly taking up most of the space in her small cell, his large form hovering over her, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his skin. The imps dashed away immediately, their nasally voices disappearing as they ran from the dungeon.

And so she was alone with him, grabbed and thrown roughly onto her back, the dank stone floor pressing into her skin as he ripped the remains of her clothes from her body. He looked her over, seeming to like what he saw as another devilish grin crossed his face. Though his words were muttered, she could hear him all the same, and the statement made her stomach churn in disgust. He groped her breast roughly, squeezing and kneading the sensitive flesh with his clawed hand. She had sworn to herself that she wouldn't allow him the pleasure of hearing her voice, but with the situation as it was, she knew exactly what she needed to say, "I would rather die." She hissed, spitting at him once more.

Dark laughter erupted from deep in his chest in response to her defiance; a guttural, otherworldly sound. "So spirited... It will almost be a shame to break you." Ignorant to the spittle that flecked his face, his hand continued to rove appreciatively over her tiny form. Xyranthus grunted as he pressed his thumb roughly between her legs, seeking the softness of her cleft even if she tried to keep her legs closed against his advance. He could - and would - use his strength against her if and when she attempted to deny him his will, but her disobedience was far too arousing. In days to come, bruises would bloom across the porcelain of her thighs, and Xyranthus would admire his handiwork.

He relinquished his hold on her now, turning his attention to himself. His clawed fingers worked at the fasteners on his pants until his length sprang free. Even in the dark dankness of the dungeon, the dark flesh glistened. She was excused from the sight of his full twelve inches, and as Xyranthus wrapped a hand around the base of his cock, his wings twitched in time with the throb of his member. The demon kept his prize safely coveted beneath him despite there being nary another soul around who would dare try and claim her from him.

His wicked finger collected a large dribble of precum, and he leered as he offered the digit to her. "Suck," he ordered.

Mae jerked away from his every touch, making her disdain for him crystal clear. But no matter how hard she tried to keep her legs closed, his strength was too much for her. He was rough as he groped her untouched slit, pressing down harder than any normal man could ever do. Still, she would rather die than let this man have his way. She watched him carefully as he let go of her in favor of shedding himself of his pants, barely even taking the time to blink. Though it was dark inside the dungeon, she could just barely make out his long, glistening length as it was freed from the pants.

She noticed his wings were twitching to a slow, steady beat as he hovered over her, eyeing her down like a piece of meat with a wicked kind of desire in his beastly eyes. He was just like an animal, desperate to claim her and prove himself to be the alpha. Her eyes trailed his hand as he used it to wipe up a glob of the precum already dripping from his cock, offering it to her as though it was some kind of treat. To what must have been his surprise, she opened her mouth, taking the long finger into her mouth and she tried not to flinch at the unfamiliar taste. She sucked once, just like he asked, before biting down hard on the finger, not letting up until she could taste the copper taste of blood.

Indeed, the demon lord was surprised at her acquiescence as she took his finger into her mouth. It was warm and yielding and Xyranthus took the liberty of probing deeper into the orifice, fouling her tongue with his seed. He grinned almost triumphantly, and if his ego had been less inflated he might have realised that said triumph had been obtained far too easily. Focussed entirely on more carnal thoughts, he was rudely interrupted when Mae’s teeth clenched down hard on the digit. Xyranthus’ wings retracted suddenly and he loosed a howl of pain – for even immortal demon-lords could bleed and feel pain – especially when their attention is focussed elsewhere.

Xyranthus snatched hold of her jaw with his remaining fingers, using it as leverage to pull her face closer to him as he leaned in towards her, furious. His foul breath poured over her. “You wretch,” he seethed, sullying her lip and chin with his dark blood as he tugged his finger free. His ire was an almost tangible thing; pouring off him in waves as he roughly dragged her toward him with no regard for the cobblestone beneath her.

His original purpose renewed, the demon hunkered down as he clutched hold of the girl, manipulating her legs apart with one hand while his other gripped the base of his cock firmly, waiting for the opportunity to push the length of it between her legs. “I will break you,” he promised. “There will come a day not far from now that you will beg for me to fill you with my cock, with my seed. You will lust for me while heavy with whelp, and I will only sate you when I deem to do so.”

She got a sick kind of joy in hearing him howl, in seeing the pain on his face. The joy didn't last long, however, as yanked his bloody finger free, spreading the dark substance onto her face as he did. Before he had seemed to find her resistance fun, a challenge of sorts. Now, however, there was nothing but anger, rolling off of him in waves as he crouched above her, breathing heavily onto her before yanking her forward harshly on the damp cobblestone floor.

He was strong enough to force her legs apart with ease no matter how she tried to resist, and he wasted no time in lining himself up with her virginal slit. His words made her sicker than his touches had, promises of breaking her, of filling her with seed until she was with child. The thought of carrying this monster's child disgusted her to no end. "I will kill myself before I have your child." She hissed back, venom lacing her every word.

Her defiance did not amuse him this time.

His left hand held her fast by the underside of her thigh; thumb pressing roughly into the hollow between her thigh and groin. He didn't need the wicked claws to cause her serious pain, his strength would serve him well enough.

Xyranthus knelt on one knee, eyes gleaming. He could smell her despair, her disgust as he guided his length towards her. She was going to stretch for him, and it would not be quick. It would not be painless.

There would be blood for blood.

He parted her delicate lips with his bulbous head, stroking himself as he trailed it back and forth through her slit. If she had only behaved then this might have been more pleasant for her. He could be generous when he wished to be; he had offered her the choice of silks or stone at her back, had he not? Had the little wretch obeyed, he might have even seen to offering her a touch of her own pleasure before he took his own. Alas.

His nostrils, almost bovine in appearance, quivered in anticipation as his cock rubbed over the bony prominence of her entrance and throbbed. Another great glob of pre-cum oozed out of his slit, and he grunted as he anointed himself with it against her flesh. She could struggle, scream, and spit upon him all she liked and it would do her no good.

"You will be begging for my cock before you are begging for your death." He growled, and his tail lashed against the iron bars. "For you will be bound to me. Nights will come when you cannot sleep for the height of your arousal. You will thirst, but no amount of water will slake it. You will hunger, and the food will be but ash in your mouth." The thick, black length pulsated malevolently, spilling another globule of pre-cum directly inside her. A promise of what was to come. His leathery lips pulled back across his teeth. His words turned serpentine. "You will desire me above all else. Above life, above death." He pushed the bulbous head of his cock into her, saddling himself with her pussy. Already he had taken her womanhood, feeling it tear as she stretched and strained to accommodate him. Once inside, Xyranthus began to rut her with abandon, his wings unfurling once more as he forced his way closer to the neck of her womb with the intention of spilling his thick seed deep within her.

He was too strong for her to fight, that much was painfully obvious. His clawed hand on her thigh was holding her so tight it would undoubtedly leave bruises, and judging by the glint in his eyes, he intended to leave many more. Mae took a sharp inhale as the thick tip of his cock pushed itself between her lips, clenching her teeth so as to not give him the satisfaction of hearing her scream. He stayed there for a moment, moving up and down her slit, taunting her with what was inevitably going to come.

Mae's body convulsed as he forced the tip of his dark manhood into her tight, virginal cunt, feeling the thick glob of precum leak from it. Her body was in no way ready, his cock tearing her sensitive walls apart but no matter how it hurt she would never give him the pleasure of her voice. She bit down on her lip until it was bleeding as he pushed inch after inch of himself inside of her, feeling her virginity being ripped from her. All too soon, he began to thrust himself into her at a fast pace, each one reaching deeper and deeper inside of her. Her insides were screaming, her body thrashing on the dungeon floor and he fucked her mercilessly, but she refused to make a sound.

Her defiance was delicious. He could feel how strongly she was resisting him, even though she was unable to escape his grasp. Her flesh reluctantly yielded to him as he drove further and further towards the core of her very being; and a primal growl ripped from deep in his chest. With his need to simply take her satisfied, the gluttonous creature was already anticipating the day when she would mewl and beg for his attention.

"Yessss," he hissed, manipulating himself against her groin as more of his length was thrust inside her. He wished to be hilted inside her, and soon he would have it. His balls tightened expectantly, though he was not yet ready to release inside her. "You will be rotund with whelp", he promised, envisioning the sight of her distended belly as his spawn grew within. "You shall be the queen of my harem, and you will have a hand in picking those who will serve me..." Xyranthus grunted as his cock throbbed hard, hungrily seeking the neck of her womb. "And it will be your right to deny their mewling, pleading voices, and keep such pleasures to yourself..." His cloven foot clacked on the stone as he shifted his position, rutting himself harder into her. His hand was now free to leave the base of his cock, and he reached forward to smear his musky fluids across her cheek as he caressed it.

"You will be queen."

She wasn't sure which made her more sick, his words or the feeling of him so deep inside of her. She felt like she was being torn in two as he sat fully sheathed inside her, leering down at her. The life he was proposing to her sounded worse than death, a life of bearing his sickening spawn and spending the rest of eternity being nothing but his toy. Disgust was evident on her face when he smeared his essence across her face, caressing her cheek with a clawed hand. It was a terrible feeling, being so thoroughly violated by such a wicked creature and knowing that that was what was left of her fate.

She could smell the muskiness of his essence from where it was now spread across her skin, burning her where it sat. This was the scent of a fully realized demon, ready to claim what he thought was his. This scent would soon fill her completely, pumped deep into her womb on a regular basis, however often he deemed fit. He would leave her covered in it, until it was the only thing she would be able to smell. The thought of being nothing more than his breeding bitch was nauseating, and she hissed, "I would rather die."