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Of the Darkness {SkyePilot}

K

kimbra_ailis

Super-Earth
Joined
Jan 11, 2009
A cloaked figure ran through the halls. Two half orc creatures followed after her only a few paces behind. A delicate hand held the hood down but out of her eyes and despite the cloth she still moved silently and effortlessly. Her feet made no noise on the stone but her pursuers made enough noise for both parities. At first she had tried to find the usual halls back out but that was becoming harder and harder. So many corridors where beginning to confuse her at this speed and her mind could not focus more than to run. She knew she was lost but she could not stop now.
She really was not sure if she was in trouble again or if this had been some kind of test. Okay so she really was not suppose to be in the dungeons being nosy, but never had they chased her this far through the black corridors. This time she had not gone down to play, but a voice had called to her. She could not identify it but it called her name and it was so soft that she could not refuse. At some point the orcs caught her and so the game was on. Something was down there, someone, more than her usual plays toys and apparently she must have gotten too close.
Then again maybe the Dark God simply got tired of letting her down there. Some time ago she had learned how to go down to the dungeons and some of the creatures where very fun to play with or torture. For the most part no one ever bothered her except on occasion when she might try to play with the wrong one. Even that was no more than being chased from the dungeons for the day or night. And she was always back with a few days like nothing had happened.
She had never met her lord but she knew of him well and surely he must have known about her as well though he never called on her. with her games she thought he must mind overly much if he had never had any more done than her chased away. She didn’t think patience was high on his list of good qualities. Despite the normal beatings, torture and such she pretty much was left alone for what reason she was unsure. It had always set her on edge but she tried not to let it get to her.
As most of his servants she had some training though most of hers consisted of flying or running. Someone, maybe it was her mother (she could barely remember for sure) had taught her some of the finer points to torture and games. By time anyone paid any attention to her they were chasing her. It often seemed she meant little or nothing to any of his other servants, which was fine by her. She had two options from there, stay still try and fight then get beat or to run.
As a child she had learned to fight but her skills were lacking compared to some of the others and though stubborn the pain did eventually break her will enough to let her flee. Well she was well broke and willing to serve but she still had trouble standing still to let someone hit her. She guessed, surely, the Dark God had a purpose for her someday because those without a purpose were useless and normally discarded.
To date she thought he had been kind enough to her if only because her wings where still intact. The only thing she had of value was her wings in which she had been born with. The corridors where too small for her wings to be of any use so she ran. Now she was becoming scared, the chase was wearing on her and she guessed they did not mean to simply talk with her. She had been too fortunate so far for anything good to come of them catching her.
As her strength was starting to wane she finally started to recognize things again but her direction was not good as far as she was concerned. Her only though was whether they had purposely chased her here or if her own ignorance and fear and lead her feet. A hard left turn led her to another and only her outstretched hands saved her from hitting the wall so hard.
A few feet more and she barely missed two men in the hall. She managed to slide past them though in her attempt not to hit either she tripped herself in her cloak and hit her knees hard before skidding into the wall. The men seemed alarmed and she scrambled to her feet in time to see the orcs nearly stopped into their tracks. Apparently they did not think to try and get past these men as she had. She was not sure if she was suppose to run or if they had enough. She didn’t even have enough sense to stammer an apology for interrupting the men for nearly running them over.
Watching the orcs for a moment her back against the wall, all of the pain started to sink into her conscious mind. Slipping back to her knees her vision blurred some and her breath came in heavy sobs. Coughing between breaths and sobs her mind felt like it did after one of the lessons, somewhere between death and breaking.
She had been foolish and the chase had taken too much out of her. Never had she ran for so long and her stomach was trying to turn and empty. She managed to sop herself if only because she knew the punishment. Something on the unconscious level told her if the orcs ran from the two nearby she might do well to do the same, only her body wouldn’t respond. The hood of her cloak shielded her face as she rocked on her knees trying to calm her body and mind long enough to maybe function.
 
The orcs stood there for a moment in the torchlit hallway, murmuring and chatting to each other. The two men in the hall they prey so absent minded skirted past in her rush to escape were not exactly who they were expecting to run into. They were members of the Dark Lords personal entourage. Their long red and black robes clung loosely to their strong and powerful bodies. In the rush and suddenness of they moment, the figure seemed to blur right past them, unable to do anything at all.

Even by being this deeply within the bowels of his lair was not a place the orcs should be by any means. They were risking a lot by chasing that cloaked figure, even though they didn't realize just how deeply into the bowels of the lair they had gone. To see these two here meant serious trouble, more for the cloaked figure than themselves... but punishments were something the orcs had grown accustomed to as part of their daily schedule.

One of the men started to step over to the panting sobbing figure. It was clear that whoever it was didn't belong here either, perhaps as all. As he stepped over, his feet echoed getting closer and closer. "Well, well, well..." his said as he bent down, yanking the hood of the light fabric cloak back. "My, just what do we have here, hmm?" A smile smirked as he looked down to the pretty young girl, seeing her eyes welled up with tears. "Are you lost little girl?" he asked, very condescending. "I think we can help you find your way back,"

The other man had taken to the orcs, leading them with a spear in hand down the hall the other way, to dish out whatever punishment or torture they would get. "On your feet then, you're coming with me," Not waiting for her to move on her own, the man grabbed her wrist hard, any harder, he might have snapped it like a twig. He yanked her back to her feet, not at all intending to let her go by any means. With a smile, he guided her through a few more corridors, twisting and going down the dark halls. They came upon a wood door. The man rattled for his keys, and unlocked it, throwing the girl into the room first. Stepping in behind, he closed and locked the door.

The room was quite obviously a holding cell of some sort. Chains and shackles fastened had been fastened to one of the walls, dangling in the low light of the room. A table was along another of the rooms four walls, laid out with whips, floggers, rope, even a small collection of blades. Not taking much time to let her take in the bleak scenery, the man faced her, grabbing her small shoulders. "So, just exactly what are you doing here, hmm?" He asked, slamming her body against the stone wall. "Do you have any idea where you even are?"
 
Feeling the material being yanked away from her face, her blonde hair came loose, spilling around her shoulders. Staring up at him, she found herself unable to look. A mix of anticipation in eyes. Anticipation of what she was not entirely sure, fear, relief, joy, terror. To many. Unsure what to do. She was aware that her fate was already sealed and he had not even touched her yet.
Lysha made no resistance when it came to following the man. Not only because she had no strength to, but something about him commanded no refusal. The best she could do was try to keep up and avoid causing him to hurt her anymore. Feeling her body compelled forward through a wooden door, she expected to hear it close behind her and then be ignored for a few hours.
Turning back to face the door, to say she was surprised was an understatement. Staring at him, she was already trying to back track but he was on her before she could take a second step. The breath rushed out of her lungs for the second time in less ten minutes as her back met the wall. Unexpected she couldn’t protect her head from slamming into the hard stone. A soft whimper escaped her lips. Struggling to draw breath into them again and answer his question.
“It was an accident.… I was being chased…. I lost track of exactly where I was going…”
The only thing that kept her standing and in place was his hands. Eyes going wild all over the cell, then finally back to his face. A shiver went up her spine. Lysha had been punished and beaten by a good number of people and creatures, but she knew this was going to be to a new experience. If only she was not going to be the canvas and she might actually enjoy the next couple of hours.
“And yes… I know where I am at…. I have seen your handy work before…”
 
The young man's smile turned into a quick frown, while his lips puckered up tightly. Within an instant, he had spit right into her face, the thick glob of saliva tracing down the corner of the girl's left eye, onto her blushing cheek. "Oh, how very good that you know where you are... and who I am... and just how much trouble you are in..." The man teased, knowing either way he would have his fun with such a beautiful and pretty girl... or whatever she might be. One of his strong hands lifted from her shoulder, quickly working her small, frail wrist into the heavy cast iron shackle high above her head, making her arm stretch for it. The other hand followed, doing the same with her other small, boney wrist, capturing it as well into the matching heavy shackle.

A dark glint seemed to sparkle in his eyes, his gaze casts closely unto her own. 'Hmmph..." The young man started with a smirk. "I really do not think you know who you are dealing with, little girl..." He said, his hot, steaming breath flowed from his lips, so close to hers. "I don't belive you... is there any reason why I should?"

Without saying anything else, or waiting for her delicate reply, the demon leaned back, giving a firm smack to her pale cheek. The sound seemed to fill the small brick chamber, leaving an imprint of his hand upon her face. "If you know who I am... if you truely know, tell me... It might lessen your pain and torture... or, it might increase it.... but that gamble is yours, if you want to roll the dice... the least I can do is give you a sporting chance, hmm?" The young demon chuckled heartily. "Besides, whatever it is I do to you is nothing[/] in comparison to how my Lord will treat you... once I hand you over to him,"
 
With the close of the cuffs around her wrist, she was forced to accept she was going to be here for a while. Her body relaxing against the wall. Lysha still felt fear and panic but she was pushing them back from the surface. Neither emotion was going to help her survive the next couple of hours. A soft noise escaped her lips when his hand came in contact with her cheek. Closing her eyes to block him and the pain out.
Lysha turned her face slightly against her chained arm, rubbing her cheek against it. It did not help much to ease the sting or the heat of his hand print. “You asked a question… I answered… If you don’t believe me that is your problem” Her words were braver than she felt at the moment.
“I said I have seen your work… a few times… then again, in this place that is nothing special…” That was baiting him.
 
"Well, at the very least then, I'm glad my reputation precedes me," the young demon smirked, still unsure of if she was telling the truth or not. Holding her chin in one hand, he tilted her head back some, keeping her jaw closed. His hand continued to give a few slaps to each of her soft cheeks. They were nothing hard this time, but enough to sting more and more with each and every follow up. He stopped once her cheeks were a nice beet red... almost as if she were blushing against his abuse.

With a huff, he went over to the table, picking up a long knife. Winking evilly to her, he placed the flat edge of the blade against her neck. "Time to see what you are hiding under these rags..." He turned the edge of the blade against her slender neck, cutting the surface of it lightly, smiling as a few simple drips of crimson flowed, the color contrasting against her lovely flesh. Following soon after, with a few quick motions, he had cut her robe off, letting the fabric fall i a heap to the floor, leaving the pretty girl in whatever else it was she wore underneath.

"Do you have a name?" He then demanded, his face close to her own. "Or am I going to have to pull that out of you, hmm?" He asked, smiling at the anticipation of doing his worst to her already. Such a lovely prisoner he had captured, and he planned to cherish each and every moment of pleasure, pain, and everything that would manifest itself between. As he leaned into her face, he placed the sharp edge of the knife under her chin. With a press up, he let her feel the sharpness, a fraction away from leaving another cut.
 
Closing her eyes as he slapped her, she tried to withdraw but the wall made it impossible to move out of reach. It was more of a natural reaction, self preservation, than conscious thought. Only after several heartbeats did she open her eyes again. There was a lingering sting to her cheeks. Her eyes watering slightly from the sting, not yet tears.
Lysha watched him approach her with the knife. Unconsciously holding her breath. Her jaw tightened feeling the light sting of the razor edge blade. She did not immediately feel the blood run down her skin, but moments later when it cooled. She could only imagine how the dark red liquid looked against her pale skin. The sound of the material cutting beneath the blade. Moments later it fell away from her body. Revealing her body stretched, by the chains around her wrists. Beneath the robes she wore a small black skirt that barely reached her thighs. The shirt was a mid drift that dipped low, hung off shoulder and barely covered her moderate breast. Black, flat soled boots barely reached her knees.
“… Lysha…”
Some how, she managed not to stutter the single word. He was right in front of her. Looking into his eyes, she could see his anticipation. Not that she blamed him. She was probably a rare treat for him. She was something other than the typical demon or orc. There were few women in the underground. And even fewer women that could be touched. A few priestesses’ occasionally wondered down for one reason or another but no one would dare touch the Dark Lord’s priestesses.
She turned her face away from the blade, giving him better access to her throat. Lysha flinched feeling another sting from the blade and the following bead of blood. Breathing a little harder, she could feel butterflies in her stomach. She denied that it was anticipation. And was reluctant to think it might be relief. Although both emotions were plausible. Accustomed to being at the hands of the orcs and goblins, they did not know the definition of foreplay. When they did something, they expected a scream or would do worse the next time.
“Ask a question… I will answer…” Lysha held no illusion that just because she was offering to talk without being tortured that he would not hurt her.
 
"Mmm... Lysha..." He said, hearing her sweet, nearly fearful voice present it. He was almost able to taste her savory name on his tongue. With a lick of his lips, he looked into her eyes with a deeper glare, pressing the knife harder to her her chin. Any more pressure would easily give second cut to her young and precious little body... something he craved to do. "Such a pretty name you have... and such a pretty body that matches," The young demon chuckled, letting the knife drop from her chin. He still clutched the blade tightly, his hand lowered to his hip, while his other hand caressed the un-cut side of her neck.

Listening to her response, he nodded, just barely. "Well, that is exactly what I expect... I ask something of you, and you tell me... that makes my duties so much easier..." He chuckled, clutching a grasp of her hair, pulling it under his nostrils, taking in her clean and wonderful scent. Letting it drop, he looked back to her eyes, taking in her expressions. "I'm pleased that you will give me the answers I seek..." He said, his hand now clutching the pale, exposed flesh above her skirt. Gripping firm and tight, his hot hand dug in, beginning to sink sharp fingernails into her waist and hip, just starting to bruise the flesh underneath. "But that isn't good enough for me, or for my Lord," The young demon smirked, placing the sharp blade at the front of her neck. "You were caught where you shouldn't be... you are severely trespassing in a depth that you clearly do not belong. My Lord has told us to 'take care' of those who do that... and you clearly fall into that category..."

The young demon happily hissed into Lysha's ear, flicking his forked tongue into it, and along the ridges, pressing the sharp blade closer. "But, before we get onto your pain, torture and punishment... and my pleasure... what exactly are you doing here, so far in the Lord's depths?" He asked, his hot words flowing from his lips, nearly searing the skin around her delicate ear.
 
The fact that he moved the knife away from her throat did nothing to ease her. It was simple enough for him to bring it back. Besides it was not nearly far enough away for her to breath comfortably. Her head remained facing away from him. She was unsure the touch was a promise of what was to come or an attempt at seduction. Maybe both.
Watching him take a lock of her hair might have been amusing under other circumstances. As was, many of the creatures here were capable of following scent. Even if she managed to escape him she would find few places that he would not catch her if he so choose. Lysha had no was of knowing if he was one of these creatures but it was usually better to think so and be wrong.
His hands on her hips, made her breath catch. Imagining how easily it would be for him to dispose of the little piece of material. Lysha actually closed her eyes as she felt his nail sink into her pale skin. She did not cry out but her mouth fell open, panting softly. Twisting slightly in his grasp, an unconscious attempt to free herself even though her hands were still firmly chained. It was not like she really had any place to escape to even if she managed to pull out of his reach.
“It was an accident… ” Shuddering as she felt his breath against her ear, the touch of his tongue. His body was so close she could feel his body heat. At least compared to her own chilled body he felt warmer. He had barely touched her and she was breathing hard for him. “The damn orcs caught me where they thought I should not be and wanted to give me a reminder… It seems I turned right when I should have turned left… I really did not mean too… ”
 
The young demon continued to play at tease at her small ear as she spoke, hearing her breathing grow deeper. Pulling back, he looked into her eyes, keeping the shiny blade on the tender skin of her throat. The edge of it was still kissed with the red from the first small cut it had left upon her... quite possibly the first of many more. "Well, for once those damned orcs were probably right... a little girl like you poking her nose somewhere she does not belong, at all..." Pulling the knife back, he leaned into the cut at the side of her neck, tasting along the horizontal cut. "Mmm..." he let out, licking his lips. "But that just makes me wonder, what were you up to when the orcs started their chase?"

As he waited for her answer to the inquiry, he placed the flat edge of the knife on the outside of her left leg, grazzing upwards along her pale, creamy flesh. The metal was cold and hard still, as he moved it up, higher and higher. The blade slipped underneath her skimpy little skirt, and in one quick motion, the knife sliced through the soft fabric, joining her cloak on the floor. "Hmm, you know..." he started, looking into her eyes with an evil little smile. "Maybe I should keep you all to myself. I could use a fresh girl in my entourage..." He smirked happily at the thought. "That is, of course if my Lord does not want you for his own... he is always looking for playthings..."

With Lyshas skirt off now, he took a slight glimpse at her side, where his hand was moments ago. The skin was bruised, not broken, but clearly abused. the imprint of his strong fingers could clearly be seen, the flesh still a bright red from the direct heat of his hand. As a demon, his body temperature was of course very hot, something that living in the depths of the underworld had caused.
 
It was an effort not to moan, feeling his lips against the cut. Not sure which made her body tighten more, the fact that he had taken her blood or the feeling of his lips against her flesh. Breathing harder in anticipation, she barely tried to cover her reaction. It did not really matter to her at that moment.
Hearing the material being cut, she whimpered in protest. Not really modest. Despite human birth, she was not raised in the human world. Clothes were a rare commodity and she had paid dearly for the pieces that she had. It was disappointing and hurt more than his blade had. Despite her hands still chained, she tried to move her hands to catch the falling skirt. Closing her eyes, for a moment refusing to look at him. Also feeling the edge of anger.
“You don’t want me… I bite…” Growling softly at him as she opened her eyes again. Not entirely sure if she was angry about the skirt or his words about where she belonged.
“Just because of my looks, do not judge where I do and do not belong… My father dropped me here, given away to survive or die… I have survived for many years on my own…” There was an edge of anger to her voice. Anger flashing in her eyes. She hated such assumptions. It was probably part of the reason she got in trouble so often. Proving that she was not a weak little girl that her father thought he was getting rid of.
Looking at him, there was still anger in her eyes but she caught his eyes staring lower than her eyes. It took her a moment to realize he might not be looking at her now bare sex, but the marks he had left on her. Almost as if admiring it. On its own accord, her body shivered.
 
"Oh, you bite hmm?" the young demon smirked, gazing back to her face. "I like that..." his voice trailed on, smiling as he heard the chains rattle and clink together while she made a helpless attempt to struggle her way out of the bonds. "Besides, thats what gags are for, my dear," He could easily sense her building anger, her growing hate, for both him, and his kind alike. It was almost something he could smell rising up from her slender, halfway naked body. He listened to the little rant the he provoked out of her, doing his best not to give out a little chuckle at how pathetic it sounded to him.

He took a step back, starting to work himself out of his own robes. "Daddy didn't want you? Poor little thing. But, for me... for us... that's just decreases the competition," His bare chest was revealed, fully toned, but not overly muscular, just enough to show off his development. Somehow, even though he spent as little time on the surface as he get get away with, his skin was fairly tanned. "Survival is the name of the game... down here, and on the surface. Eat or be eaten. Live or die. It's what we all do, everyday, and you shall get no sympathy from me, little girl," With that, he shed the remainder of his robes, fully reveling his body to her not so innocent eyes. The rest of his body was just as toned and strong as his broad chest, many scars and marks on his body. Most were healed over, but some were still fresh. "As you can see, we all have our wounds. Some are on the surface, and others run much deeper. You are no different,"

It would have been hard not to notice what was between his legs as he stood there in front of Lysha. Already, he was fully aroused, his cock ready and at attention. It was well over 7 inches from tip to base, throbbing softly with each beat of his dark heart. He took a step forward, pressing his hot and wanting body fully against the girl, forcing her against the cold stone wall. His shaft pressed against her navel and stomach hotly, almost burning with it's rush of heat. "And if you are not the weak little girl Daddy thought you were... and still are... you wouldn't be getting chased around by orcs that don't know up from down," He placed his hands upon her pale cheeks, cupping each one with a squeeze. His lips pressed to hers as he began to kiss her. Grinding his body against Lysha's he slipped his forked tongue deeply between her pink lips, teasing and toying about the confines of her mouth.
 
Opening her mouth to growl at him. To tell him that she was not expecting pity, actually intending to tell him the opposite. That she was not some scared little china doll. That everyone insisted on thinking she was going to break at the first touch. Her father had been right in knowing that she inherited her mothers insanity, but she also had inherited his strength. If only she was born male like her brothers.
The words died on her lips as she felt his body pressing against her. The heat of his body penetrating the cold of hers. Mouth dropping as the sensation and heat went through her. Closing her eyes, a soft moan escaped her lips. She couldn’t remember the last time she was warm. The heat did not stop with simply warming her flesh. Aware of the burning sensation against her body. Lysha attempted to press her body harder to his. Accepting the burning and the pain almost as if she needed more.
His mouth taking advantage of her open lips. For a moment, eyes going wide, slowly relaxing. She was almost smiling by the time he pulled away from her lips. Moaning softly as she opened her eyes to look at him. “Why don’t you let my hands go? Your not afraid of a little girl are you?” Baiting him gently.
 
The young demon was more than a little surprised that Lysha only tried to press herself to him, rather than trying to struggle away from. Maybe she thought that giving in to him would just get it all over quickly... which of course was not in his plans at all, either way. Her flesh seemed so very cold against his heated body, almost as if she was made of ice. After the kiss, he thought for a moment about letting her out of the chains. How much of a threat could she really be, if a pair of stupid orcs nearly caught her. "Fine," he said. "It's not like you have anywhere to run anyway," he smiled again.

Reaching up, he undid each one, letting her arms come down freely. He still kept himself pressed strongly to her though, not giving her much space quite yet. Her soft body, even if it was chilled, felt wonderful against his own, smooth and silky. The feeling only made him crave her lusciousness even more. He reached down to the bottom of her sweater, pulling that up and over her head, leaving her perfectly naked in front of him. He dropped the garment to the ground, joining it to the pile of scraps. "Mmm... what a delicious body you have. We're going to have quite a fun day together... or at least it will be for me," the young demon chuckled heartily.
 
“… Thank you……” Lysha made no move to try to get away or even give herself some space. The circulation returning to her arms hurt a little bit. Wrist twisting slightly to help. She let them hang gently at her side.
When her shirt did not meet the same fate as her skirt, Lysha managed a grateful smile. Again there was no modesty. Blinking she looked up at him, her head resting against the cold stone. It was strange half her body almost felt on fire from his touch, the other half still cold. Self preservation said she should shy away from the heat, just his touch was nearly burning against her skin.
“… the orcs were only minutes away from their prize…”Smiling at his words. Not sure if they were a threat or a promise. Probably plenty of both. “I would say that I owe you something for that… Nothing comes for free… but I think your going to take it one way or another… besides from personal experience, almost anything is more fun than being at the hands of the orcs”
 
The young demon smirked, taking a small step back. One of his strong, hot hands came up, placed on her small shoulder, gripping it with authority. "Oh, you owe me nothing... but I will take from you anything I like... besides, there is still the matter of your punishment for being where you are not supposed to be... regardless of it was a mistake or not. Get on your knees," he ordered, pressing down firmly on her shoulder, not giving her much choice in the option. "Face the wall, place your hands on it too," As she got into position, the demon went over to the table, picking up a black leather flogger. A few of the strips of leather had small, pointed metal studs on their tips, meant to only add into the pain of it all.

Stepping up behind her, he brushed the soft leather ends up and down her slightly curved back, letting Lysha feel the instrument before she her punishment. After a moment, he quickly lifted his wrist, and came back down hard onto the middle of her back. The sound of the impact echoed briefly in the tiny stone room, a large red mark being left on her flesh. Another stroke followed almost immediately after, not giving much time for her to take in the first hit of pain. A few grunts came from his throat as he lashed at her back, a smile on his lips all the while.
 
Moving to obey, on her knees, knees close together, sitting up tall. Lysha moved her hands over her head. Not entirely sure what he planned. Her breath caught in her throat as she heard his step closer. The feel of the leather and cool metal had her attention. It was almost erotic. Not yet afraid.
The first impact forced a scream from her lips. Expecting a moment between strikes, she was caught unaware as the second connected with her back. Another painful scream. Moving more quickly this time, she moved her arms to face level, pressing her mouth against her arm to muffle the sound. It did not completely muffle it but softened the sound. Lysha never moved to get out of the way or stop him. Accepting each strike.
The more strikes that connected with her back the more her legs slide part till her butt was nearly on the cold stone. Her back stretched as s he found herself a little farther from the wall. Leaning forward her back was offered and her head stayed buried against her folded arms. Eyes closed to block out the pain and because she could not see past the tears. The tears on her cheeks felt hot. No longer touching his skin, her body had returned to its natural cold state.
Sometime she let her guard down, black markings became visible on her back, from shoulder to her knees. The markings took the shape of her wings and the outline of each long feather. When the whip missed a strike, she slowly lifted her face from her arms. She kept her forehead pressed against the stone wall. Not bother to move more than that or try to get up. Her back felt like it was a bloody mess. She had no real idea of how bad it looked, she simply knew that it felt shredded. Staying still she waited quietly.
 
The rough flogging continued on and on, a few light chuckles sounding out from behind Lysha as he beat and punished her. With every kiss of his flogger, he back turned more and more red, the harsh metal studs ripping deeper into her soft skin. After the second strike, her back was already starting to bleed, and the welts and deep scratches only continued to be produced with each additional strike. Her screams and sounds of pain were sweet to his ears, driving him on, wanting to hear all of her high pitched tones. Slowly though, he started to notice the two black streaks running down the full length of her scared back. The young demon bit his lower lip, not quite sure what they were, and now knowing that she wasn't fully human, as he had been lead to believe.

With a pant, he shook out his wrist, the leather tendrils of his flogger stained with the crimson of her hot blood. He took a moment to pause, listening to her sobs, hearing her sad little tears drip down onto the floor. "What are those lines on your back?" Small trickles of red trickled down the abused flesh on her back, as he watched the outline of black feathers start to take shape. With a grunt, and not waiting for a response, he gave one more strike to her back, very low, the ends of it curving along her ass as she slumped lower onto the cold floor.
 
Partly delirious from the pain, she could barely concentrate on his question. Let alone understand what he was talking about. Black lines? All she knew for certain was her body really hurt and that he was enjoying himself. Those two facts seemed more than enough at the moment. But he had asked her a question. And she had promised to answer all his questions. That meant she needed to answer this one. Concentrating she wondered how much she had relaxed giving her self to him. It had never been a problem before, but then she was use to those who knew who and what she was. Opening her mouth twice, nothing came out.
“You don’t know?” There was a sad attempt to laugh at the thought. Maybe a sign of how far gone her mind really was. It was not nice to tease the demon with the whip. Turning her head slightly to the side. It was too much effort to open her eyes and search for him. Head still resting against the cool stone. For a moment her mind drifting off before she realized she had not really answered his question.
“They mark me for what I am…” Replying when she had enough control of herself to get the words out. Words slurring. “The wings come once a generation in my family… Part of the reason I was left here, I am considered property of the Dark Lord until I die or he releases me to someone…”
 
The demon behind her growled loudly, the sound comming from deep within. He gave one last strike to her back, just as hard as he could. Oh, how the tables had flipped in just an instant. He had damaged the Dark Lord's property, and he would be severely punished for doing so, extra for having even laid a finger on this rare girl. "Well then..." he said doing his best to regain his own composure. "It appears than that I will be giving you up after all..." His hand reached down, grabbing the back of her hair. With a fistful of the strands running through his fingers, he pulled her from the wall, and tossed her down onto the floor. "If I have to give you up, I at least might as well make it worth my while,"

Quickly, he came down on top of Lysha, using his body to pin her to the floor. His hips pressed strongly against hers, the heat of his flesh returning to her frigid body. If he was already going to be punished for the next thousand years at least, he figured he might as well take advantage of the situation. WIth his body spreading her legs apart, he moved forward. The aching tip of his member started to push against her opening, his shaft the hottest part of his body by far. Closing his eyes, he let out a deep moan, starting to press into her body, feeling her tightness wrap along his thick length.
 
Hearing him growl at her words, she tried to turn around. To see what was wrong. The strike coming down on her back was unexpected, making her scream. Lysha heard his words but she was an effort to put them together and their meaning. He was probably the first that would willingly let her out of his company after such little time. Then again the orcs did have a stubborn streak when they played.
As he forced her down onto the floor, she started to struggle, the cold stone press into her bloodied back. It seemed he barely noticed her struggles. Feeling the tip of him against her, she let out a soft whimper. Accustomed to the orcs, they did not touch her in such away. Her body was much too fragile, they would have killed her during the process of mating. There were a handful of soldiers or demons that came down into the darkness but they had been far and few between. In reality she could not remember the last time.
He pressed into her bringing another whimper, for the moment she had stopped struggling. Remembering the heat of just his body pressed against her, she could not imagine what it would feel like inside of her. That was answered moments later when he buried himself deep inside of her. Aware of the way it seemed to burn, she started to breathe hard. She twisted her hips, unable to still beneath him. Begging noises escaped her lips, though she was not sure what she was begging for. The mix of pleasure and pain was so intense she was not sure if she wanted it to stop or needed him to continue.
 
Her struggles were in vain as he grunted, noticing them, but they would do nothing to even remotely help Lysha at this point. Hands were placed on the cold stone floor, just above each of her shoulders. The young demon lifted himself up, his cheeks already flushed with a rosy color. He could feel her walls spread apart and stretch, accommodating to his large size. She felt like a warm, juicy, tightly wrapped blanket around his searing shaft. A long, pent up moan passed from his lips, once he was burried into her, to the hilt. Eyes stayed closed, enjoying the wonderful, magical sensations pass over his shaft, into the rest of his body.

Opening his eyes with an odd smile, he looked down to the small girl underneath. Pulling back halfway and then back in fully, he told her. "If you have my Lords mark then surely... Mmmm..." letting out another moan. "Surely you have heard his calling to you... beckoning you down here, hmm? That is why you are here... Your Master calls, and you are... compelled... required to answer..." With nervous chuckle, he started to thrust in long and deep motions, not hesitating to start at a more than moderate pace. "I'll already be punished for beating you without his consent..." he informed her. "So I am going to make it worth my time..."

With that said, his pace only increased, pulling back, and slamming into Lysha time and time again. His large balls slapped up against her each and every time, the sound of his body pounding and violating her's filling the small chamber.
 
“I…I… I… think… you… misunderstand….” It was the only words she managed to get past her lips. Her words turning to soft screams as he started to ride in and out of her.
Lysha continued to twist beneath him, hands searching the cold stone as if looking for something to hold onto. Her entire body was tense, legs hugging his thighs tightly. Finally her small hands wrapped around his wrists. Her nails digging in to his heated skin. The cold stone beneath her back seemed to help numb the heat and pain from the whip strikes. What pain was taken away by numbness was replaced by the stone digging into her wounded back.
She told herself that her body would become use to his heat, that his shaft could not feel like it was burning her inside forever. As the minutes ticked by, she began to doubt that. Her screams continued to mix with the sounds of his body hitting hers. Her hips were raised slightly for him though she was barely aware what position she had put herself into for him. Breathless, she stopped twisting and thrashing of a moment. Trying desperately to draw fresh air into her lungs.
 
Letting out a deep, low and loud growl, the entire room seemed to shake. The sensation of her sharp little fingernails clutching so tightly against his wrists was amusing at first, but she only sunk her grip harder and tighter while he ravaged her dollish body. The young demon closed his eyes, feeling the sharpness puncture his flesh. Blood flowed down from the fresh cuts, running on hot and thin trickles from each incision of panicked fingers. It did nothing to slow him down at all.

Panting and sweating, he slammed himself deep and hard against Lysha's body, taking a quick rest to breathe. "Mmph... Do you not hear him in your head even now?" He asked, with bated breath. "Do you not hear my... our... Lord calling you to explore deeper, and deeper?" He gasped softly, a sound of amusement in his voice. "He has been looking for you... he wants you... the Lord needs you..." He finally trailed off, once more resuming his deep and strong thrusts into her tender body. Even her depths were chilled, regardless of how heated his own body was. But that was of little concern to him. Her ongoing screams only built upon one another, not at all caring if they were cries of pain, or gasps of her pleasure... perhaps a strange and erotic combination of the two. She drove him on, causing him to lust for more of those exciting sounds. Her pink lips were marvelous to watch, parting with each gasp, separating with every fresh howl. So very captivating.

While she raised her delicate hips up, he smirked to himself, only able to push his large cock even deeper into her suckling body. His fingers clutched against the stone floor, his hands still just above her shoulders. Fingernails scrapped against the smooth, hard surface, making sharp, chattering noises. He arched his back some, feeling his release build and build, knowing he wouldn't be able to last in her delicate body much longer.
 
Barely aware that she was drawing blood or causing pain. Just knowing if she did not hold something it was going to be his back or chest that would be scratched. Lysha thought that it could not get anymore intense. Feeling his thrust suddenly seem stronger and a little wild, hair nails tightened. She tired to move her hips, to change the new angle, not sure that she could take it. The mix of pain and something almost like pleasure left her feeling like he was shoving into places in her body that he did not belong. Feeling him finally still, she was breathing hard. Blinking up at him, her eyes were more than a little unfocused. Her body shuddered one last time as the tension finally left her.
“The marks outline the wings I possess. Have you not really looked at me? Everyone of His priestess is as dark as the next. No one remembers the last time He had a fair woman serve Him. And it’s been centuries since the last Angel of my line has been dark. He has not taken any interest in a fair one. All that matters is that we continue to blood line. It said some day His dark angel will return.” Voice was raw.
“It’s not His voice I hear…” The words slipped out without thought. Immediately she closed her mouth. Unable to believe she had said it out loud. Not wanting to talk about it she changed the subject. “Your not the first to his a little fun with me. I assure you, He has never noticed or cared before. Provided I am not broken beyond recognition. I am one of a dozen things that He owns. As with my mother, someday I will either be given into someone’s care or someone will ask him…..”
 
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