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Ascension to the Heavens|Descent into Hell(Corsair and Xana)

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"Oh!" Astrid replied enthusiastucally. "I met him in Landisford, when mom and dad were there for the Tribute of Landiz - two years ago." She smiked wistfully at the memory. "I was presented at court, and danced with all the nobkemen. And mist if them were so old," Helga smiled indulgently, and Verruer snorted. "But he's only a year or two older, and he's so handsome, and we've been writing since then. And last year..." Her eyes sparkled. "He came here! He braved the miuntain, just to ask me to marry him!"

"It was impressive, yes," Verrier agreed, straping steel plate on iver the chain barding of his steed. "Ellistar has fire in him." He grinned, showing all his teeth. "He even managed not to whimper ir faint when he met me."

"Why woukd he?" Astrid asked, puzzled. "You didn't kill him immediately, so he was safe enough."

Helga sighed. "That's your father talking, dear. You'll need to work on that, at court."

"Why?" Astrid checked the straps of her saddle. "They understand, don't tgey? In Landis, I mean. Tge strong hold power, and the weak are prey."

Verrier chuckked. "She'll make a giid queen, don't you think?"

"You are not helping, my lord," Helga replied with a sigh.

"I disagree." Verrier swung himself up into his saddle. "Let us ride."


Yawning and stretching, Mykel lurched into the common room. "Morning, all," he grunted, rubbing his eyes. "Sleep well?"

"Oh, we slept just fine," Anja laughed, handing him a mug of strong tea. "Hiw about you and Eva?"

"Like babies," Mykel grunted.

Anja grinned at that. "One of you woje up.every three hiurs, demanding attention?"

"Yeah, something like that." Maybe it had been the twins. Maybe it had been something else. But he'd woken about midnight with her mouth around his dick, pumping his load into hef mouth as she fingered herself to orgasm. She'd smired at him and snuggled up, drifting to sleep. He'd repaid her in kind as dawn peeped through the windows, stroking her clit until she'd woken with an orgasm, then fucking her hard as she tried to work out where she was. The memory made his cick stir and twitch, and he tried to distract himself by talking to his sister. "You're dressed up nice," he observed. "Early, though. We're not meeting the priestess until evening, unless the timeline's been advanced."

"She's just... anticipating," Svalis murmured. "Can't blame her, really. Zamira's fine." He regarded Liky with a seriius eye. "Just don't get dustracted, right?"


"Landis is the wealthiest of the ten kingdoms that remain in my domain, having put the lands and populace of Gulder to use," Verrier explained as the horses clopped diwn the switchbacked road.

"Gulder?" Helga askee. "I don't recognize..."

"It was ruled from Arthas," Verrier explained. "Until I destroyed the city and ended its royal line, a little more than..." he cinsidered. "Fifteen hundreds of years ago?"

"Why?" asked Astrid.

"King Perlas can tell you in detail, if you visit the ruins of Arthas," the Dragon chuckled. "If he is lucid. He is still there, burning endlessly and never consumed for the crime of sending a dragonslayer against me." An inhuman grin. "Your father. Ellestar's grandfather has taken that warning to hesrt, as havecall the kings of Landid before him."

Beneath the horses' hooves, the land began to spark. Tiny electric bolts arched upwards, dancing over them. "We are on the ley line," Verruer announced, rising in his saddle. "Ride along it until even." With that he threw his arms wide and leot, stretching and changing and unfurling. Hurricane winds blasted the riders and their mounts as grest wings boomed, and the bulk of the Dragon blotted out the sun as he rose into the sky.

"Come, Clara!" Verrier laughed, exulting in the sensation of wind poyring over his scales, of freedom fron te tyrrany of gravity and the claustrophobia if the stunted shape he'd worn. "Follow me, and see our domain as it shoukd be seen!"
 
Lily blushed a little, as Svalis comment, wishing she weren’t so easy to read. But, it got her what she wanted last night, hadn’t it? At least, the safer alternative to what she really wanted. “Actually, I thought I might make my way through town, and speak with more of the common folk. It is one thing to hear Furtan’s priestess explain this… religion? Cult? Whichever, to us. It is quite another thing to hear an explanation from the standard believer. Find out from the least of them what this all means. Zamira and the entire ceremony last night was a carefully cultivated image Furtan wanted to project. I want to peel back the layers, and see what lies beneath.”

Eva joined the group, relaxed and glowing, if not particularly well rested. She flashed Mykel a brief smile before sitting beside Anja to help herself to breakfast. Fucking all night had left her famished, even if food wasn’t all she craved. No, he need to focus on the mission. Wasn’t she the one who had told him that much last night? As they basked in the afterglow of passion?

“Canvassing the town does sound like a good idea, and we can cover a lot more ground if we move in pairs.”



Clara hesitated, even as Verrier’s wings darkened the sky. But if anyone in the entire world understood, it was Aunt Helga and Astrid, right? They lived at the mountain, Fairtheora, under the dragon. They knew she was the lady of the mountain which meant she was also…which meant she could turn into a dragon. So, Closing her eyes, she pushed herself from her horse, into the air. Letting her form change to combat gravity as arms stretched into wings and batted against the gusts from Verrier’s own wings. It was a small blessing she couldn’t see their expression as she lost her body to the dragon, like tossing herself into the overwhelming immensity of the ocean.

Beside Verrier, Clara could say two things for certain. Her dragon form had indeed gotten larger, but she was still smaller than him. The difference wasn’t as jarring as it had been when she first showed him her dragon form, but she was still only three-fourths of his size.

Nevertheless, she kept up with him without much trouble. And he was right, traversing the realm in this form was glorious. The rivers and the forests and plains rolling beneath her Spreading out as far as she could see, and she could see much, from up here. She let out a laugh of astonishment, which sounded alien in her current form. “It is a spectacular view,” She admitted, swooping underneath him.
 
Verrier's wings spread, catching a thermal and rising silently into the sky. Air flowed over his mailed form in currents, subtle changes in pressure and direction and temperature making him awarecif his surriundings in a million tiny ways. He could feel Clara's metamorphosis and approach, and in response he beat his wings to gain speed. She responded in kind, her lacy wings filling with air as she kept pace, sunlight dancing and sparkling across her pearlescent scales.

"It is a spectacular view," Clara laughed in astonishment.

"It is," Verrier agreed, angling his wings. He descended until his crimson belly scales just scraped along the diamond ridge of her spine, then beat his wings once and rise once more. "I claimed this land long before the first humans set foot in it, marking all within a day's flight if the mountain as mine. And in all that time, I have never tired of it." He caught another thermal, rising nearly a thousand feet in a lazy spiral. "There, in the mountains, are glacial lakes and frigid streams that join into the Sarn and flow all the way to the sea. The forests are thick and wild, and harbor stranger things than the dire wolf your wife took. And the plains are rich and fertile..."

His voice trailed off as he peered downwards. Then he folded his wings into a dive, pucking up speed as he streaked towards a herd of wild cattle far below. The first warning they had of his approach was his talons as he caught one of them in each foot like an owl would seize a mouse. His wings beat as they scattered, gaining altitude once more. The two animals he carried aloft screamed in bovine terror until he swallowed them whole on the wing, one after another.

"We will make no more than two hundred miles today," he observed as he drifted beneath Clara. "Landisford is but a day's flight, but even with the key lines, even my horses will requre three to four days to make the journey."


"Pairs are a good idea, yes," Rynne agreed, tearing a roll in half and buttering it. "Why don't I go with Lily?"

"That might not work well," Mykel countered. "You're the most skeptical of us about..."

"No, that's what makes it perfect," Svalis pointed out. "She'll be an obvious counter to Lily's obvious desire to want to believe them." He sipped his tea, then caught Lily's eye. "Not that I'm calling you credulous. But it's clear you really want them to be what they say they are. While Rynne..."

"Is paranoid?" Anja murmured.

"I prefer cautious, thank you very much," Rynne corrected.

"Then, uhm... me and Eva. And Mykel and Anja," Svalis suggested.

"Sounds reasonable," Mykel agreed. "Shall we begin?"

"Gods, no!" Anja declared. "Breakfast first. We're not animals!"
 
Flying with Verrier was just another of those surreal experiences. Hard to believe she was doing in her own body. Well, a version of her body, a version that still felt strange and foreign and unfamiliar. Less so, as Verrier brushed against her, scales on scales different that skin on skin. Different, and yet similar. It evoked the same electricity in her, the same hunger and desire.

Maybe he was right. Maybe this was what she was meant to be. Strength given shape, power given form. So Clara followed his lead, listening to his words, and wanting truly to spend days exploring the land. His kingdom. Their…their kingdom. Their movement an intricate dance on the wind, Clara truly taking the moment to bask in the glory of this form. Even so much as to mimic his dive, enjoying the thrill of the fall, of the speeds reached as they raced towards the ground.

And at the end of it, with Clara laughing in exhilaration, beginning the recognize the voice as her own, she watched him pick up the cattle. Watched him devour them in a single gulp, the desperate screams that ended abruptly. It was primal and feral and animalistic, and in that moment, it was too much for Clara, turning her stomach.

“Maintaining this form is strenuous, for me,” she lied, turning a wing to rejoin the horses. “I’ll ride the rest of today. Maybe try again tomorrow.”



“I mean, I understand why you believe this could be genuine,” Rynne confessed, as they walked the cobblestone street. She pulled a chuck form a loaf of freshly baked bread and popped in her mouth before continuing, “I mean, it’s pretty much the reason why you’re here. But most demons aren’t like your father.”

“That’s not the only reason to believe in this, Rynne,” Lily argued, watching the bustle of the marketplace with hazel eyes. Humans and demons alike negotiated prices and trades while children chased each other through the crowds. “There hasn’t been a major demon attack in five years. Just little instances here and there of demons desperate to feed. And it seems like Furtan has solved that issue here. Humans willingly allow the demons to feed on them in small amounts, and the community celebrates unprecedented prosperity. I know it’s strange, but demons do need to feed, and it all seems to work here.”

We don’t know how well it’s worked here yet,” Rynne challenged, dodging a little boy that dashed in fronted of her and twisting as a half demon girl followed behind. “We need to find someone to interview.” They cleared the market-place and walked down a small street with smaller houses. Not as much commotion down this street, save a woman with a babe in a sling around her chest sweeping her stoop.

“Can I help you ladies?” The woman asked, leaning the broom up against the side of the house. She wasn’t much older than the Paladins, but the heavy bags under her eyes made her seem older. She was on the pretty side of plain, not remarkable, but nice to look at.

“Just getting a feel for Reeve’s Bluff,” Lily called, approaching the woman to introduce herself. “Lady Lilianna Kellikanos, and this is Lady Rynne Leonheart, and we are Paladins of Afodisia.”

“Paladins?” the woman laughed, “Didn’t know the world still had a need of those.”
Lily looked over at Rynne who kept a tight, controlled expression on her face.

“Perhaps the Goddess has some need of us that’s not yet revealed. Since it seems the demons have been behaving, here at least?”

“Yeah, I mean I hardly pay them any mind, now-a-days. They’re just like anyone else trying to make their way in the world,” she explained. There was fussing from the babe in her sling, and she adjusted the child to check on it. Shocking red skin was the most immediate detail about the baby that the paladins took note. They met each other’s eyes in understanding. A half demon.

“Well, you certainly don’t seem to have any problem with them,” Lily acknowledged with a nervous laugh, “Are you married or…?”

“Hmm?” The woman asked, confused for a moment. Lily motioned towards the child and the woman just laughed, “Oh no. Just enjoyed those little celebrations a little much, I must confess. I am not even entirely who the father is. It doesn’t matter so much; this child is mine. And Lord Furtan takes care of me, well, us. A nice allowance that lets me take care of myself and Azalea, and he even offered me some work, once she’d older.”

“Lord Furtan takes care of you? But he’s not the…” Rynne asked, trying to make sense of it.

“No, he’s not. But I’m not the only one. Lord Furtan takes care of his people, everyone in Reeve’s Bluff.” She explained, rocking the child. Then with a whiff, she made a face, and smile apologetically at the Paladins, “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

“Of course. It was valuable, speaking with you.” Lily called as the woman took the child back inside. “So, what do you make of that?”

Rynne considered for a moment. “This just seems weirder and weirder, the more we find out. And…There are an awful lot of half demon children here.”

Lily nodded, “Well yeah. I mean, after what we saw of their celebration, is it really so surprising? And if Lord Furtan has the means to help all those who want that, it must not be so bad.”

“I mean, yeah, that is generous of him. But still, it is a lot of half demons.” Rynne pointed out, literally pointing to a knot of them playing tag in the alleys.

“And?” Lily asked, suddenly offended, “Is that a bad thing?”

“No, I didn’t say that,” Rynne defended, realizing her mistake too late.

“You didn’t have to.”
 
"Oh, wow," Astrid breathed. "Look at it!"

The great city of Landisford sat on both banks of the Sarn, great rings of walls of marble and granite defending the city and the mighty bridges that spanned the river. Entire communities grew outside the walls, nestling against them like piglets suckling their mother. At the heart of the city, on the eastern bank, sat the grand fortress Caer Landis, ancestral home of the kings and the seat of their power. Traffic - on foot, or mounted, or upon carts drawn by oxen and horses - streamed through the gates, and barges and boats filled the river.

"I still can't believe there can be so many people in all the world," she continued, staring in wide-eyed fascination.

"You were here just last year," Helga laughed. "And it hasn't grown all that much since then."

"It's still so huge," Astrid insisted, breathless.

"Landisford is one of the largest cities of my domains, and it is the wealthiest," Verrier declared. He had resumed human form and sat upon his steed, looking amused. "The House of Hilden took power after the Qlippoth Incursion, some five centuries ago, taking advantage of the power vacuum to expand the borders and enrich the kingdom - and themselves, in the process."

"But... don't the Camdens rule Landis?" Astrid questioned.

"They took power roughly a century ago," Verrier explained, watching the city with his unhuman eyes. "The last Hilden king died with a daughter and a bastard disputing the throne, and so Evalyen Hilden married Kol Kon Seljic to gain his support and the might of the Vir Seljic nomads. He smashed the opposition, strangled Queen Evalyen, and took the throne for himself."

Astrid pursed her lips. "I assume she'd offered to make him a Prince-Consort rather than King?"

"Correct." Verrier watched her carefully.

"Makes sense," she replied.

"Astrid!" Helga snapped, horrified. "That is..."

"A discussion for another time, as is the history lesson. Look." He pointed out an approaching troop of armored knights. "We have company."

"Who are you?" demanded the leader of the troop as they drew closer. "State your business!"



"There are an awful lot of half-demon kids around here," Anna remarked, looking around. "Had you noticed?"

"It's hard to miss," Mykel replied dryly.

They sat on the edge of a fountain in the city square, where they'd paused for a snack. Around them merchants and vendors hawked their wares. Pearls and spices from al-Nithiel. Fresh fish. Cotton imported from Landis, and linen from Afodia, and silks from far Nashon. Children scurried and shrieked as they dodged around be between the adults, some bearing horns or claws or tails.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Anja mumbled around a mouthful of almonds, sounding utterly non-apologetic. "Does it bother you?"

Myself shrugged. "No, not really. It bothers Lily more, I think. Our dad was an angel when she was conceived, but there's really very little difference between a half-demon and a half-angel. I think it frightens her, you know? The extra things we're capable of, and the temptation that comes with it? I mean, I've caught her checking her forehead more than once."

"Her... forehead?" Anja sounded lost.

Grinning, Mykel held his fingers to his forehead. "Horns," he mimed.

"Wow. I never thought about it like that." She ate another mouthful of almonds. "But it doesn't bother you?"

Mykel shrugged. "I'm a Paladin. There's plenty of ways for me to fuck myself anyway, if I abuse my gifts. My heritage is just more of both." He ate a bite of his pastry. "Does it bother you?"

"Nope," Anja replied, brushing her hands off. "Now, you ready to go bug more people?"
 
“Lady Clara Olgasdottir, Paladin of Afodisia,” She called towards the guard, reigning in Beauty. The guards gave each other strange looks, unable to figure out what a paladin would be doing here before Clara explained, “I am cousin to Astrid Helgasdottir, Prince Ellistair’s betrothed.” She motioned with her head back towards Astrid. The guards were taken aback, giving the girl a second and even third look, unbelieving.

“Apologies, my lady. We expected you by carriage. Not like…this,” The leader said, bowing low. “Allow me to escort you right to the castle. I take it this is your mother and father?”

Clara bit her lips to avoid laughing, while Astrid shook her head. “My mother, yes, Helga, but that is not my father. That is Lord Verrier.”

“Lord…Verrier?” The man whispered, face blanching as the words dawned on him. “My lord, I…”

“An escort to the castle would suffice,” Clara declared, eying Verrier, “We are expected, after all.”


Eva laughed as a little boy hid behind her while another child tried to tag him around her. The two kids jutted right and then left before sprinting after each other, tail flittering out behind the boy. Try as he might, Svalis couldn’t hide an equally amused look. Still, he cleared his throat to get back to business.

“Lots of kids around here, playing and pretty carefree,” he noted, and Eva nodded, watching the game playing out before them. “Quite a few of them are half demons, as well.”

“They are pretty cute, when they’re this age,” she remarked, focusing on one little boy with dark hair and a forked tongue. For a moment, she wondered if her kids would look like that, if she had them with Mykel. A thought that made her blush as she pushed it away. No way she wanted kids. Not yet, at least. Not for a while. Not with Mykel. Not necessarily with Mykel. Not not with him either, though. Ugh, why was all this so confusing? Why did he have to be so hot, and half demon and making her think of him now?

Wait… “I just thought of something,” Eva started, piecing things together as she moved away from thoughts of her best friend and occasional fuck buddy, “All the priestess or representatives or whatever they were, were really attractive, weren’t they? Like, stupidly hot, right? I mean those blondes, the twins? Like Edana made flesh. And Zamira? Damn. If she would have come up to me, I probably would have kissed her too.”

Svalis shifted a bit, perhaps distracting himself from thoughts from that evening. Either the orgy or the events afterwards. “Yes, clearly all the participants were well chosen for their good looks and lack of inhibitions. Is there a point to this other than disappointing myself with what might have been?”

“I assure you, I have a point. Whatever Furtan said about seeking redemption or salvation for their demonic ways, isn’t it strange that he was trying to recruit some many humans into this…movement? He claims this is for demons, to repent, yet all the potential recruits I saw last night were humans. Why does he needs so many humans to join? Pulling out all the stops to entice as many humans as possible. The question is why? Why does he need so many humans to participate in this cult?”

“Blood? The demons feed off willing humans, so they don’t go mad with bloodlust and kill people?” Svalis suggested.

“Perhaps…but then why all the half demon children? There is something else going here. There just has to be.”
 
Verrier's inhuman eyes glittered with amusement and predatory interest as he examined the men before him. "Not like this?" he questioned, voice a gentle purr. "And how, then, did you expect one of the Drakul to travel?" His heels thudded once against his horse's flanks, and the knight's steeds shied in sudden fear as the beast approached them. "On dragonback, perhaps? Riding me as if I were a steed?"

The knight blanched as he saw the dragon's slitted, crimsin eyes. "My... my lord..! No! I... I only meant that... that we expected... Lady Astrid to... to..."

Suddenly, Verrier laughed. It was a wild sound, that laughter, deep and merry and subtly unhuman, and the knights shied back further as they tried to decipher the meaning. "Come, do your duty," he chuckled. "Escort us to the keep. Let us not keep Astrid from her chosen mate."


"I still don't like it," Rynne declared, frowning as she leaned against the wall. "None of this makes sense - or maybe it makes too much sense."

Mykel considered clothing options. What did one wear to meet the priestess of a potentially heretical cult? It wasn't something that had come up in the etiquette lessons he'd endured. "All the half-demons, you mean?"

"That's..." Rynne considered her words carefully, aware that she might be treading thin ice on this topic with Lily and Mykel. "That's not quite what I mean. I think they're just a symptom of the issue. It's like Eva pointed out."

"Yeah," Eva said, nodding. "Why so many. Or, no, that's not quite it. Why is Lord Furtan encouraging them? I mean, how many pregnancies result from our ceremonies, typically?"

Mykel settled on a shirt of purple silk from al-Nithiel. "Quite a few?"

Eva laughed at that. "Yeah, true. But not as many as could. Certainly not as many as happen at this cult's ceremonies. Are they making fertility out to be a proof of the love of the goddess?"

"Or is Furtan trying to breed an army?" Runner asked darkly. "He subsidizes the mothers, pays for their care and their children out of his coffers."

Mykel buckled his sword belt back on, relaxing slightly at the comfortable weight. One bit of etiquette he'd absorbed, after all, was that etiquette was in service to common sense. "It's possible," he allowed. "Or there could be a perfectly valid reason we haven't figured out yet. Either way, the sooner we find out the sooner we can act. Right?"

Svalis nodded. "Right. The cult might still be legitimate, even if - worst case - Furcas is planning something. But be careful. Both of you."


"Ellistair!"

Verrier watched, bemused as Astrid vaulted from her saddle and dashed towards the city gates to fling herself into the arms of a tall, fair-haired nan that grunted with impact and then swung her around in an embrace. "Astrid!" he laughed, kissing her. "I just received word that you'd arrived!" He kissed her again. "You should have sent word!" Another kiss. "And you have guests - I recognize your mother, but..."

"Oh, yes," Astrid laughed, a little breathless. "My cousin, the Lady Paladin Clara Olgasdottor. And..." she hesitated. "And Verrier, Lord of Fairtheora and the Twelve Kingdoms, also called the Godslayer."
 
Clara looked on warmly as Ellistair and Astrid embraced, the love between them as bright and clear as the sun shining above. Oh, to be young and in love and have a world of possibilities sprawling out before you. It all looked so different from this side.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Prince Ellistair,” Clara greeting, while the boy stifled a look of terror at the Verrier’s human form. He turned his gaze upon her next, nodding in acknowledgement.

“The pleasure is mine, Lady Paladin. Lord Verrier,” He said, just barely tripping over the dragon’s name. “I take it you are here for the wedding?”

“I’ve never been to a royal wedding,” Clara explained, taking in the sights of the city, “I imagine it is quite the spectacle.”

“Well, I do hope to live up to your expectations, my lady. The most eventful ceremony that you have ever attended.” He declared, guiding them along the main road in procession.

“I pray it’s not the most eventful,” Clara laughed, despite the memory carrying no humor. “But I am sure it will be lovely.”


Lily adjusted the silver pauldron on her right shoulder, finding it difficult to tighten the band with one arm. Taking note of her trouble, Anja helped her, her fingers warm on Lily’s bare skin. She tried not to shudder, tried not to remember last night. Neither the orgy, or the things she did with Anja afterwards. Tried to get her head on straight, to focus on the task at hand. She was supposed to get to the bottom of the cult, and find out what was really at stake. What game Furtan was really playing.

“What’s the point of decorative armor, again?” Anja asked, as Lily finished strapping on the bracer, “I mean, it’s not going to protect you, in a real fight.”

“It’s about the illusion of strength,” Lily explained, attaching her blade to her belt, “It’d be rude to attend in armor, but this gives off a similar meaning. These sorts of meetings are all about projecting power. Besides, if I got into a real fight tonight, I’d likely lose, armor or no. The demons in this town out number us at least twenty to one, and more than half of them are stronger than the peon’s any of us have fought.” She had been looking in the mirror, from different angles, examining the white cotton dress she had worn with the ornamental pauldron and bracer. “How do I look?”

“Hot. If you make it back tonight, I want to fuck you in this.” Anja teased, hands on Lily’s hips. “We can use the blind fold again…”
 
Verrier watched Ellistar and Astrid chat excitedly as they rode side by side, holding hands and waving at the gathering crowd. No formal declaration of her identity had been made, but the people of the city knew their Prince was marrying in a few days, and it didn't take great deductive reasoning to work out who she must be. Cheers and shouts of acclaim greeted them, and flowers hawked by enterprising individuals quicker on the uptake were hurled, and it was clear from Astrid's expression that she was both embarrassed and eating it up.

Verrier and Clara and Helga received a share of cheers and floral assaults as well. Most likely, nobody knew who they were. But they were in the train of the happy couple, so they were lauded as well.

"I may have to reconsider my appraisal of Ellistar," the Dragon murmured, catching a flower and eying it curiously. "He may be a fop, but he found enough spine not to grovel when he realized who I was." He sniffed the flower experimentally. "I could smell the fear on him, but that's only to be expected. Perhaps he'll make a better mate for her than I expected."

"You must have seen something in him, Lord Verrier," Helga observed. "You permitted the wedding."

Verrier shrugged. "I've never interfered in the relations of the Drakul. They are free to act as they wish, as long as they don't annoy me." Plucking a petal from the flower, he chewed it thoughtfully. "And besides, he found the courage to beard me in my lair, as it were. With Astrid, of course. But he asked my permission."

"And you clearly gave it," Helga said with a smile.

"If he'd given me cause to deny it," came the Dragon's reply, "he wouldn't have left my lair." Staring at the flower, he rolled it in his fingers as if trying to decide what to do with it. Then, with a grin and a murmured word, he breathed on it. As he watched, it twisted and shifted as it transformed into silver. Turning to Clara, he held it out to her. "For you. Plant it, and it will grow."


"So, what do you think sis?" Mykel asked, spinning in a little circle as he came down the stairs. He wore a purple shirt, and studded leather bracers, and leather trousers with a matching vest. His sword hung on one hip, and a long-bladed dagger on the other.

"Oh, she's not the right one to ask about that," Anja laughed, elbowing Eva. "It's not really a fair question to ask your own sister, is it? But I'd fuck you, so it'll probably have the right effect on your priestess."

"She's not my priestess," Mykel pointed out.

"No, but she's the priestess you're gonna have," Anja laughed again. "Least, if her behavior last night was any indication."

"Besides," Mykel continued, "I'm pretty sure you offered to fuck my sister already."

Anja shrugged. "So? I've got stamina and determination. Once I wear your sister out, I'll come and wake you up." She winked. "Assuming Eva lets you sleep, that is."
 
Taking the silvered flower, Clara wove it into her hair, just behind her right ear. Despite the metallic sheen, it was still soft, as it had been before Verrier’s magic affected it. “What do you think, does it suit me?”

“Just lovely,” Helga replied, riding on her right side.

“So, Ellistair’s father is the king?” Clara asked, figuring she should get her facts straight before arriving at the castle. Astrid had explained it all once, but the girl was so excited, and so focused on Ellistair, Clara had missed half of it.

“His grandfather, King Giles Camden. Reynart is the crowned prince. Ellistair is second in line to the throne, behind his father, followed by his older sister Aevell and then younger sister Hilda,” Helga explained, having heard it enough from her daughter to have a strong grasp of it.

“Wait, he has an older sister? Why is he ahead of her?” Clara asked, confused by courtly politics.

“It’s the way of it, here in Landis. They seem to prefer male kings,” Helga answered with a shrug, “They have a system more or less works for them, to avoid civil war over the throne. Occasionally.”

Clara frowned at the explanation. What was wrong with women rulers? Aunt Ingrud had been a fine Mayor of Monsford during her tenure, and only quit to retire. Rielle had ushered in a period of unprecedented peace and prosperity as Lady Commander of the Order of Afodisia, overseeing major reclaiming and expansion of human territory into the Vale of Scathan and the former demonlands. Did Astrid really want to live in a place where women were second to men?

With a sigh, she shook her head. It would do her no good to fret over such things. Astrid was a smart, strong willed girl. Perhaps her fire would change things around her. With a hopeful smile on her lips, Clara entered the castle.


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Lord Furtan’s Manor stood on the water front, towering over the rest of the town in glorious splendor. Sunset cast shadows that made it seem larger and more imposing than it really was, even as people milled about, human, demon and half-bloods alike. Awaiting the siblings in a scant lilac gown, Zamira looked a vision.

“Welcome,” she greeted warmly, arms open to embrace Lily. There was a moment of hesitation before Lily returned the embrace, still remembering the feel of her lips on hers last night, and the soft touch of her fingers on bare skin. When they parted, Zamira turned towards Mykel to repeat the greeting, pressing her soft body against his firm physique. “Come in, we will talk over dinner. I hope you two are hungry?”

Biting her lip before she could give an honest answer, Lily nodded, following the priestess into the dining room. Before them was a feast, a delectable aroma of appetizing foods. A roasted boar, marbled with muscle and fat, cooked until the meat fell off the bone. Sweet potatoes and corn, seasoned with region spices. It was indeed mouth-watering, nearly as much as the striking Zamira.

The priestess sat at the head of the table, and Lily sat between her and her brother, deciding that keeping close to her brother was her best bet to check her libido in check. Because Zamira had already proved far too alluring, and Lily needed to focus. “Lord Furtan told me who you two were, and I have to say, I am quite honored to meet you.” Zamira mentioned, pouring wine for everyone at the table.

“What did he tell you?” Lily asked, serving herself a portion of boar.

“That you were the children of Lady Paladin Aurianna, and Matthias the Redeemed. Your mother is seen as something of a saint to us, an example to follow in our undertaking.”

“My mother? A saint?” Lily asked. Great, as if it weren’t enough pressure to live up to her legend.

“Your mother was the first to believe it were possible for a demon to be redeemed. It was her patience and love that guided your father back to the favor of the gods, was it not?” Zamira asked, taking a long drink from her glass of wine.
 
Verrier listened to Astrid and Clara, nodding slightly. "As a rule, as long as the Tribute is paid on schedule I don't interfere with the internal affairs of my domains," he said, raising his voice a little and looking at Ellistair. "But I've never quite understood the male primogeniture in Landis." He smiled a little, showing his teeth. "Or any rule of inheritance, for that matter, that doesn't involve the strongest and most capable becoming the new ruler."

"It's tradition," Ellistair said, voice just a little nervous. "And, for the past century at least, it's prevented a civil war." He forced a smile. "Which would run the risk of disrupting the Tribute."

The Dragon laughed at the response, a sound of genuine mirth this time. "Oh, well said. Well said indeed." He rode in silence after that, smiling a little and watching the gathered people with interest. Time and again, his attention returned to Clara and her own reactions to the events surrounding them. As Astrid and Ellistair chatted happily and the accompanying knights watched the crowd for potential threats, he steered his horse so that he could ride beside her. "These are yours as well, Clara," he murmured. "What do you think of them?"


Mykel ate a bite of sweet potato, finding it flavored with a delightfully mixture of molasses and peppers. "Saint Aurianna," he chuckled. "I'll have to tell mom that one."

"And now you're mocking us," Zamira pouted playfully, striking a pose that made him want to taste her protruding lower lip as a preface to tasting the rest of her. "She is living proof that our faith can and will be rewarded. That redemption is possible for all, no matter their crimes."

He grinned back, sipping the wine. "Not mockery," he corrected. "Just imagining how our mother would take the news. Particularly since she said it was because she outstubborned him and dragged him back from hell."

Zamira's laughter was like the ringing of silver bells. "Oh, oh my. Perhaps we'll add that to our canon, then." Her voice rose to a singing chant. "Oh blessed lady of redemption, silver-armed savior. Teach us the way of stubbornness, and guide us to drag those deserving into the light of our Goddess..." More laughter. "It has a ring to it, doesn't it?"

"Oh, you have no idea," Matthias agreed. "Mom would probably find it funny, even though she'd be too embarrassed to admit it."

Zamira leaned forward slightly, resting her hand on Lily's thigh as she did. Her fingers lightly squeezed the supple flesh beneath the white gown. "And what does your father say?"

Mykel shrugged. "Oh, this and that. I don't think he fully understands what happened, even now." He cut off a bite of pork and savored it, then cocked his head slightly. "What about you? What called you to the service of Afodisia, and in this capacity?"


A royal reception awaited the band of travelers within the walls of Caer Landis. Squires to see to the horses - albeit with some trepidation when they saw the fangs of the steeds of Radharc Realta. Musicians to play a fanfare to announce their arrival, and court dignitaries to welcome them with the respect they deserved. A powerfully-built aged man, wearing a circlet of white gold set with a black opal, embraced Ellistair before kneeling before Verrier. "My lord."

"You may stand, King Giles," Verrier replied. "I require no obeisance. Merely obedience."

"As you say, lord," the king replied, standing with a grunt. "May I present my my wife, Queen Velka?" He gestured towards a lean, white-haired woman who curtsied slightly. "And my daughters, Aevell and Hilda?" Both women curtsied in turn. Aevell was elegantly dressed in a gown of black and gold, and did not appear thrilled to see her brother or his bride. Hilda, however, seemed delighted to see her future sister-in-law. "I apologize for the absence of my son Reynart," he continued. "We had not anticipated your arrival for another week, and he is overseeing the King's Justice in Lake Travers."

"There is no need for apologies," Verrier assured him. "I travel swiftly, and I understand the need to ensure order in one's domains. Let the Crown Prince return when he has seen to his duties."
 
“Lady Paladin Clara Olgasdottir,” She introduced, hesitating. Was she supposed to curtsy? Not if she were Verrier’s equal. Which she’d have to assert to justify not curtsying, “Lady of Fairtheora, and Slayer of Torment and Lust.”

“Lady Paladin?” Hilda perked up, smiling at her, “Are there many Lady Paladins?”

Clara couldn’t help but laugh fondly at the question, “Oh, at least half of us. Though some days it feels as if we are the majority. Our commander is a Lady as well.”

Hilda smiled fondly at the king, as if a point had been made in her favor, before turning her attention back to Clara. It was now the Queen who spoke, “Did you say you were the Slayer of Lust and Torment?”

“I did.”

“Now that can’t possibly be right. That was over twenty years ago,” Velka reasoned, taking note of Clara’s clearly youthful appearance. Instead of feeling embarrassed, which was her usually reaction when it was noted she was far younger than she appeared, she smiled.

“If you will recall, Queen Velka, I did also introduce myself as Lady of Fairtheora.”

The queen glanced at Verrier, before looking back at Clara and nodding in understanding, “I see. Well, we are quite honored to have you here as well. I do hope you will regale us with tales of your victories. I know Princess Hilda would enjoying hearing of them.”

“I shall then. Perhaps over dinner?”

“That would be lovely.”



The wine went down smooth, even if Lily did fear she might choke as Zamira’s hand squeezed her thigh. So high up, so close. She wanted to asked her to removed, but saying something would call attention to it. She wanted to asked her to go higher, and that thought had her even hotter between her thighs.

“Lord Furtan took me in as an orphan,” Zamira explained, running a finger on her free hand over the rim of her glass. “My mother had perished from illness and I had no one else in the world. I was hardly more than twelve at the time. Lord Furtan took me in, when he had no reason to.

“Wait, Lord Furtan adopted you?” Lily asked, trying to ignore the pleasant warmth of Zamira’s hand. She had been picking at her food, hardly able to concentrate on her meal.

“Mmhmm. Raised me as his own child, and told me the story of your father. Matthias the Redeemed. Furtan explained that Matthias told him he too could find redemption, if he were sincere. If he could prove to humans that he was sincere. And I was part of that. Providing for me, bringing me up, a virtual stranger.

All he has ever asked in return was for me to spread the word of his teaching, to bring more humans here, to Reeve’s Bluff, so he may atone for his past crimes and sins. I hope to one day repay all the kindness Lord Furtan has shown me, by guiding him and other demons with sincerity in their hearts back to heaven.”

Her hand squeezed a little harder now, watching as Lily gripped her fork tightly in response. “It seems Lord Furtan is even more generous than I had heard.”

“Zamira is far too kind. If I were really as generous as she claims, surely I’d have found redemption by now?” Furtan called, as he entered the dining room. “But I do hope you are enjoying my hospitality. Tell me, what did you two think of the baptismal?”
 
"Lord Furtan," Mykel said, rising. It certainly wouldn't hurt to show respect to the ruler of the city, until they decided they had to kill him. If they decided that.

"No, no," Furtan said, gesturing with a scabbed, blackened hand. "No need to stand on ceremony - you are my guests."

Nodding, Mykel took his seat once more. "Thank you. As to the baptismal, well, may I be honest?"

Furtan took a seat as well, pouring himself a glass of wine as he did. "By all means. I insist, in fact."

Mykel looked at his sister, who was clearly enjoying her conversation with and her proximity to Zamira. "Reactions to it were, well, they were mixed."

"Do go on," Furtan urged, leaning forward slightly.

"Well, it had the form of one of the Celebrations of the Church of Afodisia," Mykel said slowly, organizing his thoughts. How honest could he be, here? Even assuming Furtan was sincere, he was still a demon - and demons weren't known for accepting challenges gracefully. "Some of our band believe it to be a sincere act of worship, and that the church should embrace your worshippers. Others..."

"Others say it is a blasphemous demonic mockery, I assume?" Furtan laughed, draining his goblet. "I would expect no less. I am, after all, a demon. But tell me, Mykel son of Matthias the Redeemed and of Aurianna the Redeemer, what do you think?"

"I think," Mykel responded, "that the worship of the Goddess may take many forms. And that, while it is my sincere hope that you and your followers are sincere in your desire for redemption, only a fool would claim to know your heart after a few hours of observation."



"I hope the rooms are to your liking, Lady Clara," Marion said, just slightly nervous. She was a pretty, petite young women with long black hair, wearing a midnight blue linen dress. The other three ladies in waiting that had been assigned to her waited anxiously.

Based on Clara's claim of the title 'Lady of Fairtheora', a claim that had gone undisputed by the Dragon, King Giles had made the decision to treat her as a visiting queen. Since she had brought no servants of her own, he had assigned four to her. And her chambers were two large rooms in the east wing of the castle - a sitting room where guests could be received, and a bedroom. The furniture in both was of richly carved oak, and elegant tapestries covered the walls.

"I saw no luggage," Marion continued, "so I have taken the liberty of summoning the royal tailor, so that a gown can be made for you for dinner. And servants are fetching a tub for you, and heating water, so you may bathe."
 
Demon orgy, Lily, Zamira and dozens of demons.
  • Index
    • Clara was speechless as she was entered the room. She must have impressed them, though she imagined it was her connection to Verrier more than her valorous deeds that earned her a queen’s apartment.

    “It is very nice,” Clara admitted, laughing in disbelief. Did they realize that she slept on the ground on the way here? Oh, but a hot bath sounded absolutely delightful, and she certainly wasn’t one to refuse. It’d be an insult anyways, wouldn’t it? “I will bathe, yes, but I must insist you don’t fuss over me. Please, relax. The hovering is making me self-conscious.”

    “It is nothing more than you deserve, as the Lady of Fairtheora,” Marion contested, managing a smile.

    “I am not accustomed to be waiting on. Please, sit, relax in the sitting room. I will call upon you if I need anything.”


    Furtan laughed, a boom sound that seemed to fill the dining hall, “Yes, a very diplomatic answer, indeed. Well, I am glad you have not written me off yet, as I had hoped to prove my sincerity to you. Perhaps we could speak in private, and I am can your questions and concerns. And if not me, then perhaps a few priestesses?” Furtan invited, standing now.

    Zamira smiled a Lily, offering one last tight squeeze of her thigh. Higher this time, so very close. Leaning in towards the her, Lily could smell her perfume, exotic jasmines and vanilla. “There is something I want to show you.”


    “You climbed into the dragon’s brain?” Hilda asked, excitedly. Astrid too looked up at the cousin she hardly knew in awe, as she recounted her defeat of Yarost’cherev. The rest of the table looked on, while eating as well. It was an exciting tale.

    “It’s eye socket. It gross though, slick with pus and rot, and it smelled even worse. And the dread dragon tried his damnedest to dislodge me. But I clung to his socket bones, driving my sword into the soft flesh against and again until finally, he fell. And I had to leap from his eye then, or else be smushed by a thousand tons of dead dragon.”

    “I think it’s incredibly that you’ve killed so many demons,” Hilda just shook her head, hardly able to contain her excitement from hearing the tale, “And even a dragon? You’re amazing!”

    Clara glanced over at Verrier, squeezing his hand with a look on her face. A look with which she intended to convey, ‘Don’t eat the girl, I rather like her.’ “Of course, my role was so small. Lord Verrier was most impressive, coming to the aid of his people.”


    Lily knew she probably shouldn’t be alone with Zamira, but she wasn’t quite sure how to say no to her. She was eroticism personified, exemplified by the sway of her hips as she lead Lily through the manor. She was certainly sincere in her beliefs, Lily knew. Could tell, thanks to her Paladin gifts. Whether the demons were was an entirely different story, but perhaps she could get more honesty from Zamira in private. Wherever she was leading Lily.

    As it turned out, their destination was a bedroom, nicely furnished with a large bed and a couch. Was this Zamira’s room? Had she invited Lily here to finish what had started between them last night?

    “You are so beautiful,” Zamira whispered, running silken soft fingers over Lily’s face and down her neck. “Like the Goddess made flesh.”

    Lily bit her lip as Zamira teased her, still remembering her dreams about the other night. Still remembered the fantasies that consumed her mind, the desires that drove her wild. Remembered how prominently Zamira featured in those fantasies. “You flatter me.”

    “No flattery. Honesty. If I wasn’t serving the Goddess this evening, I’d really enjoy tasting you.” Zamira breathed, pressing her soft body against Lily’s.

    “Serving…?” Lily asked, wanting the priestess so badly. Fingers twitching as she tried not to grab her, to touch her, to run fingers through her dark hair.

    “Would you like to watch? Or do you want to participate this time?” Zamira offered, stripping out of her dress. Lily was too distracted by the sight to prod further. Luckily, Zamira’s meaning was becoming apparent, as several demons entered the room with them. All of their crimson eyes falling on her, even though Zamira was already nude.

    “Who’s she?” One with grey skin and horns curling from his forehead asked, coming up behind the priestess.

    “Curious,” Zamira offered, sagging into the demon’s arms as he began to caress her. Another was before her, cradling her face in his hands to bring her into a kiss. Lily could hear Zamira moan and sigh over the meeting of mouths and tongue, building into a sharp whine and a lingering whimper before the demon pulled away. A thin stream of blood drooled down her chin, just threatening to spill onto her skin before another demon pulled her into another kiss, lapping at the trail of blood. The one behind, gripping hips to keep her still, brought his mouth down to her shoulders, kissing there as well. Biting likely as well, from the brief stiffening Zamira did, before sighing again. Another took her wrist, tracing veins with lips before sinking fangs into the muscle just beneath her thumb. Three demons feed on her, simultaneously, and Zamira could only gasp, and beg for more.

    The heat building between Lily’s thighs was becoming nearly unbearable as she watched Zamira’s reaction. Clearly, she loved it, offering more of herself to each of the demons present. Did it really feel so good? Zamira was laid out on a bed, legs spread wide for Lily’s viewing pleasure. Already the paladin could see Zamira’s glistening lust, blossoming lips just begging for use. But then a demon was blocking her view, kneeling between Zamira’s thighs to lick her dripping sex. One of the demon’s offered his cock by her face, smudging her cheeks with his precum. It was an awkward angle, but Zamira licked at it, gasping from the attention being paid to her cunt.

    Fuck, Lily knew she was wet as hell now, sucking and biting at her lips to avoid drooling over the cock that Teased Zamira. The demon licking the priesteess’ pussy turned toward her, offering a splendid view of her moist slit, dripping with blood from the bites on her lips. “Would you like to taste her?” He suggested, lips wet with blood.

    Without thinking, Lily nodded, slipping out of the decorative pauldron and bracer. Crawling over Zamira, who wore a dazed, serene expression on her face. Lily kissed her, tasting the lingering blood on her tongue, and a hunger burned in her, a hunger she never understood until that moment. She could feel fangs extend from her own teeth, growing razor sharp in her mouth. Throbbing, aching to pierce tender flesh and gorge herself on blood. Without even realizing it, her tongue was on Zamira’s nipple, toying with the blood hardened nub, calling to her fangs. Lily groaned as her teeth sunk into Zamira’s skin, the sensation of sweltering blood filling her mouth nearly driving her to orgasm.

    Beneath her, Zamira gasped and writhed under Lily, arching her back to offer more breast to the ravenous paladin. Between her legs, a demon stroked his cock, trailing it along soaking, blood drenched lips. Lily pulled off her breast, just in time to catch the expression of ecstasy on Zamira’s face as the demon penetrated her. Driving his length into her tight channel in a single hard push. Zamira looked as if she might cum, overwhelmed by the attention.

    Zamira’s blood was still wet on Lily’s lips as a demon pulled her face to his, kissing her with a serpentine tongue. I’m kissing a demon, she thought, shuddering. Finding the act arousing in its illicitness. His fingers, claws with dull nails, trailed down neck and shoulder, reaching her perky breasts. She gasped, pulling away from the kiss, suddenly hesitating.

    “Should I stop? He asked, teasing the nipple with the threat of claws, through the thin cotton of her dress. The slight sting felt incredible, better than she would have imagined, and she wanted more. She wanted all of it, and it terrified her.

    “It’s okay, Lily,” Zamira assured her, moving against the demon fucking her, moaning softly. Her fawn skin was blushing rose from pleasure, an erotic sight so lovely Lily couldn’t will herself to look away, “The Goddess celebrates our passion, and encourages it.”

    “I–“ she started, not sure if she was going to argue or agree, complain or consent. The words were stolen as the demon behind her, the demon fucking Zamira, grabbed her hips, groping them with rough hands. Bunching up her dress to squeeze her ass, overwhelming her apprehension. Beneath her, Zamira moaned, eyes wild and unfocused as her desire built.

    “Bite her again,” the demon behind her suggested to Lily, fingers drawing closer to her slit, “make her cum.” Pushing her ass into the air, Lily leaned into Zamira, tracing her throat with moist lips, letting them scent of Zamira’s blood fill her head. Instinct took over, fangs aching until they pierced the vein. Zamira and Lily moaned together, the priestess going rigid under her ecstasy. Lily found herself greedy, mouthfuls of hot blood gushing down her throat. It was an effort to pull away, an effort to stop, something primal awakening within her. But she had, somehow, Zamira pulled her into a kiss, sucking her own blood off Lily’s tongue.

    Demons surrounded the two women, stroking their erect cocks in eager anticipation. Was Zamira really going to fuck them all? All by herself? It shouldn’t have been a surprise, given what she had seen at the baptism, but it still seemed strange and surreal. And yet, she knew she was getting hot at the sight of all these cocks, at the thought of taking all these demons. Zamira getting fucked beneath was driving her wild, making her almost jealous, but she didn’t dare give voice to those desires.
     
  • Index
    • The demon behind Zamira, a squat broad thing with the head of a bull, threw his head back and gasped as he came. His hips bucked and Zamira writhed in ecstacy as thick seed the color of tar leaked from her spread slit. More spilled out as the demon withdrew, a final spurt if cum landing on her back. Another demon, resembling a flayed man with broad mouth full of jagged teeth, took his place. Zamira's fingers dug into the mattress as his raw-muscled meat pushed into her.

    The demon behind Lily could have passed fir human, except for the purple black scales that covered his body, and the blunt talons on the fingers that explored her dripping sex. "Tasted good, didn't she?" he hissed, his serpentine tongue trailing over her ear. Two blunt taloned fingers pushed into her slit as another demon - a leather-skinned thing with bone spurs - filled Zamira's mouth with his cock. She moaned inarticulately, gripping the demon's hips and making her throat bulge as she swallowed him.

    "You serve the goddess as well, don't you?" the scaled demon said, fingers slipping from Lily's sex. He pushed her forward, using Zamira's writhing bidy to position Lily's ass in the air. "Half demon, half human, and a Paladin. Proof that we may enter the glories of Afodesia." His cock was thick as it pushed into her, thick and covered with fine scales that lightly scraped against the soft flesh of her walls. Blunt talons dug into her skin as he gripped her hips, fucking her with deep, powerful strokes.


    "My lackwit of a brother was an imbicile, slaving himself to demons for fear of Heaven." Verrier chuckled darkly. "And he favored brute strength over cunning, which is why he lost his eyes to Verdan Forest-Lord, who used them to watch over the world."

    "Who?" Aevill frowned. Ellistair's older sister wore a gown of black velvet and red silk, with a deep neckline and a plunging necklass if rubies that rested on her breasts. She'd spent the evening trying unsuccessfully to firt with Verrier, but now she sounded genuinely interested. "I've studied the names if the Gods, but I don't recognize..."

    "Nor would you," Verrier replied, cutting into his roast. "He was the most recent of my kills. I slew him shortly after the Qlippoth Plague that threatened my domain." His lips drew back, revealing - just for an instant - a mouth full of razor fangs. The king and queen flinched at the sight, and Aevill strojed a finger down her throat and stared. Ellistair and Astrid, lost in each ither's company, didn't notice.

    Hilda leaned forward. "How," she asked, eagerly, "do you kill a god?"

    "I broke his spine, then ate his heart while he screamed," Verrier answered, swallowing a strip of the roast whole. "I imagine you'd need a different strategy."


    Mykel settled into an overstuffed chair, shocked despite himself by how normal the study looked. If it wasn't for the scabarous presence of Furtan, it could be any comfortable room in any wealthy manor. Comfirtable chairs, bookcases, a crackling fire, and a demon.

    And two blondes, the same two that he'd seen at the Celebration yesterday. They entered, one carrying a platter with four goblets and the other a jug of wine. Both wore the same filmy, revealing gown that Zamira had worn. Furtan was served first, then Mykel. Then they poured themselves a glass each and sat on the floor, one to either side of the Paladin's chair.

    "Melinda, Cassandra," Fyrtan said with a nod. "Thank you." He sipped his wine, then fixed Mykel with a burning stare. "You have questions..?" He prompted.

    "Yes," Mykel said, sipping his own wine. "The half-demon children. What..." He stopped, eying the goblet. There was a taste to it, a familiar tadte.

    Cassandra caught his questioning look, and smiled demurely. "Our blood, lord. We mingled it with the wine." Melinda nodded agreement. "Dies it please you?"

    "Yes..." Mykel managed, trying to ignore the sudden ache between his legs. "Uhm... the children. You... encourage them. Why is that?"
     
    Lily’s whole body arched, as the demon pushed into her, as her wet cunt swallowed his length, and they gasped in unison. It was strange, the scales rubbing smooth muscles, a peculiar bit of friction that was incredibly hot. “You like it, don’t you?”

    Blunt talons dug into her hips as he pulled her back onto him, eliciting a rough grunt from her, before she could even answer. “Yuh…yes,” she groaned, surprising herself with the answer. He was a demon, and yet, it felt good. Really good, the rhythmic pounding of their hips disrupting her ability to think clearly. Disrupting her ability to analyze this.

    Was it really so strange though? It wasn’t like she was being raped. It wasn’t as if this wasn’t exactly what she had wanted, just last night. It was sex, and sex often felt good, and this felt amazing. A fact she didn’t hide, as her moans grew louder, and more erotic. She met the eyes of the demon fucking Zamira’s throat, felt his gaze drifting over her body. His smile was hungry, and full of needles.

    Behind her, he reached for an arm and without protest, she gave it to him, and then the other. Letting him use the leverage to fuck even harder and deeper, and putting her body on display for the demons watching. Were there more in the room now, or had there always been six?

    “Grant us a path to the heaven within you,” the demon fucking her groaned, pulling her up until her back was against his chest. One claw groped at her breast, pulling down her dress to expose her, the other flat against her tight stomach, drifting lower. Drifting toward the point where their bodies met, finding her pulsing clit along the way. “Let us taste of hope and redemption.”

    “Yes,” she murmured, quivering along his rigid cock. Quivering that rose into a sharp cry as fangs punctured her throat. Rising further, as ecstasy flooded her like her blood flooded his mouth. Her eyes were blurry as pleasure overcame her, leaning into the demon inside wishing for a terrifying moment that he wouldn’t stop. But he did, leaving a trickling line of ruby to slid down her creamy skin. A thin line rolling over her exposed breast and dropping onto the mattress beneath her. It was only a couple more strokes before he pulled her hips tight to his, pouring his cum into her slick sex, until it dripped form her lips and down their thighs.

    Beside her, Zamira licked clean the cock that had been in her throat, the cock that had pumped its seed in her mouth. Eyes glazed with euphoria, she grinned over at lily, and crawled towards her. “I still want to taste you.” Still recovering from her orgasm, Lily could only nodded vigorously. There was a kiss that tasted of demon seed, as breasts flatten into breasts and cum soaked thigh straddled cum soaked thighs. Then Zamira pushed Lily onto her back, giggling as Lily gasped from the impact.

    Zamira climbed over Lily’s spread body, knees on either side of her head. Cum drenched slit hovering over Lily’s own drooling lips. Before she could taste, a slick tongue delved into her own cunt, lapping the seed her own demon lover had left inside her. Still sensitive from her climax she cried out, bucking her hips towards and away from Zamira. Tried to get back at the sultry priest, spreading her lips apart with thumbs and exploring her well fucked sex with an eager tongue. Teasing the scars that had been left by the numerous demons who had fed on her here. How good did that feel, she wondered.

    Another cock brushed up against her face as she savor’s Zamira’s musk. A long, slender cock, belong to a tall, slender fiend who was much like a stretched out human. She licked it as it drove into Zamira’s cunt, watching with hungry eyes as he stroked into her depths before pulling out, and pushed into her ass. Leaving Lily with another taste to discover with Zamira, and leaving her to groan into the priestess as another unseen cock pushed into her.


    Clara wore a stoic expression as Aevell flirted with Verrier. Hiding her anger and jealousy at the young woman’s audacious attempts at flirtation, and hiding her pride at the way Verrier refused to acknowledge the advances. She had no claim, after all. She wasn’t Verrier’s, or so she claimed, and likewise, he wasn’t hers either. Though she suspected that even if they were sleeping together, she’d have little claim over him.

    A new face entered the dining room, a young man a few years older than Ellistair, with dark hair with ice blue eyes. He walked behind Aevell and placed a hand on her bare shoulder, bending to kiss her on the cheek. “Apologies love.”

    “Allow me to introduce my Lord husband, Nevyn Bane,” She explained, standing and taking her husband’s hands in her own. With a sweeping motion she introduced the rest of the newcomers to him. “Astrid, Ellistair’s bride to be, Helga, her mother. Lord Verrier, of Fairtheora, and Clara, Astrid’s cousin.”

    “Lady Clara, isn’t? Slayer of Torment and Lust?” He asked, locking eyes with her, as if he had recognized her. She just smiled, and nodded, appreciating being recognized for her victories, instead of being on Verrier’s arm.

    “That is correct. It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Bane.”

    “If Astrid is anything like you, then Ellistair has chosen his bride very wisely,” He decided, lifting a glass of wine, “Let us have a toast, to the happy, young couple!”


    “What is it the Goddess teaches us about being fruitful? That children are the utmost blessing of love and that each child enriches our community,” Furtan announced, leaning back into his chair. “It’s not my intention, but it is a by-product of our rituals, like your own celebrations, I suspect. Since the pregnancies occur in service to me, I feel obligated to support the mothers, as much as I can.” As he spoke, Cassandra rose, coming up behind Mykel.

    “You’re so tense, Lord Mykel. Relax. There are no enemies here.” Cassandra insisted, working delicate fingers into the firm muscles of his shoulders and back. Her full breasts pressed onto his shoulders as she kneaded harder into tight muscles.

    “After Lord Furtan told us who you were, we were quite eager to meet you,” Melinda explained, untying his boots. Soft hand massaged his feet, and worked up into his taut calves. “The child born of the hope that demons could indeed be redeemed. There is so much we could learn from you.” She looked up with wide blue eyes, hands up on his knees as she kneeled between his legs.

    “Apologies, Mykel. I know you came for answers, not to speak on your parents. Shall I ask the ladies to leave, so we can continue?” Furtan offered, drinking another mouthful of fortified wine before smiling darkly, “Or shall I leave you be, to spread your message to my priestesses?”
     
    "To the young happy couple," Verrier said, rising and lifting his own glass. "Let them have strength, that they may defeat their enemies. And may they have wisdom, that they may choose their enemies wisely." Although he looked at Astrid and Ellistair, his gaze was directed at Nevyn and his smile was predatory as he drained his cup.

    Nevyn rose next, refilling his goblet. "May they prosper in the lands of the Dragon of Fearfire," he announced, lifting his own glass, "and ever honor the compact." Dragon and nobleman stared at each other for a long moment, and then everyone raised their goblets and drank the toast. After another moment's hesitation, Nevyn took his seat. Following him, Verrier sat.

    "My King and Queen, Prince and Princess, Lords and Ladies," a herald called from the door. "I present Hrothgar Awierigende, Seneschal of Radharc Rhealta, father to Princess Astrid and Lord Husband of Helga Awierigende!"

    "Dad!" Astrid called, waving excitedly. Meanwhile, her mother laughed amusedly. "Helga Swanhildottor" she grumbled. "Awierigende, indeed. As if I'm his property, just because he's my husband."

    "Be welcome, Lord Hrothgar," King Giles declared. "I fear we have already eaten, as we did not expect you until the morrow. But join us, and food will be brought shortly."

    "I'm no lord," Hrothgar grumbled, kissing Helga and then accepting a hug from his daughter. Servants brought a chair and he sat, pouring himself a cup of wine. "And of course I'm here today. Wedding's tomorrow, right? I wasn't going to miss it."


    Damn, but Cassandra and Melinda were making it difficult to concentrate on the conversation to hand. With the taste of their blood on his lips - even diluted by the wine - and their bodies pressed against him, it was easy to imagine tasting more if it. Easy to imagine them shuddering beneath him as he fucked them. Instead, he concentrated on Furtan, who was a sight to cool lust. "That makes sense," he agreed. "So, how did you derive the tenents of your faith." He tried to ignore the raging hard-on that was the result of Melinda massaging his thighs and Cassandra's hands on his shoulders and neck. "I was under the impression that..."

    "That I had served a different god, before the Fall?" Furtan grimaced as Mykel nodded. "It's true. I served Verdan, but rebelled long ago. Before the Godslayer murdered him. But it was..." The demon paused as a door opened.

    "My lord," a servant called. "Forgive my interruption, but a messenger has arrived."

    Nodding, the demon rose. "Please excuse me. Cassandra, Melinda, please see to our guest until I return."



    Zamira writhed atop Lily, moaning in orgasm even as her tongue traced the Paladin's slit and the unseen cock that filled her. The demon fucking Zamira's ass grunted and gasped, and his thick seed flowed down the Priestess' cleft to drip onto Lily's face. Then the unseen cock pulsed within her, stretching her walls as it pumped cum deep into her cunt.

    Hands dragged Zamira off the Paladin, and a skick skinned toad-like demon impaled the priestess on a thick cock. Lily had a quick glimpse of the priestess' back arching, offering her breasts to the toad-thing's prehensile tongue, before she was rolled onto her side. "There is more than one gate to redemption," growled a tusked thing as it pawed at her breasts, leaving shallow bleeding scratches on her skin. Two cocks pushed into her, one filling her cum-lubed slit and the other stretching her ass, and the demon rolled. Lily suddenly lay draped over the demon's chest, half-najed body displayed to the room as the demon drove himself up into her.

    Another demon, a four-armed thing with the fur of a panther and the head if a vulture, knelt between her spread legs. One hand stroked her hip as it rose and fell under the first demon's lust. Two more cupped her bloody breasts, smearing her skin with crimson stains. The last stroked his cock, sliding it over lips stretched by the ither demon's meat. The demon beneath her tore at her shoulder with his tusks, lapping the blood that dripped from the wound. As he did, the vulture-headed demon pushed into her sex, his cock joining the one that filled her cunt already.
     
    Lily moaned, cum from one demon still hot inside her as the next pushed into her. Could she say no, now? Did she want to say no? The answers to both of those questioned disturbed her as she was rolled over, positioned atop one demon as another drove into her ass. Fuck, two cocks, fucking her at once was hot and a touch too much, but she just moaned, her body taking them both as they moved in her.

    Even claws raking against her breasts wasn’t turning her off, just leading her to hiss, rolling her hips along the demon beneath her. Meeting his movements, and the movement of the one behind, stretching her ass, feeling them both move in asynchronous motion. “Fuck,” she gasped, as they both managed to fill her at once, the once beneath lingering a moment there other pulled out.

    Another set of hands was on her, a room full of demons all trying to touch her, grope her, feel her and make her feel them. It was overwhelming, erotic and frightening, knowing it was so easy to lose herself to lust. Already feeling herself get lost, consumed, devoured by the desires of dozens of demons. Dozens, were there always dozens? Were they always so monstrous and large?

    Tusks, not fangs, pierced her shoulder, blood pouring form the wound into his mouth as he tasted her. Blood gushing hot down her breasts and back, both of the demons inside her gorging themselves. She just whimpered Letting them drink, letting them fuck, letting her body get rocked between them. Whimpering, and then screaming, as another forced himself inside.

    Too much. It should have been too much. It was too much, but still, the pain made her wetter, tore between begging them to stop and begging for more. Two cocks in her cunt rubbing in an alternate pattern, insane friction that was face more intense than two sets of fingers had been. White hot pain as they thrust together, pain that had her head spinning and her body going rigid. It didn’t last long, two more coordinated strokes before they came together, flooding her slit with more seed, followed close behind by the one fucking her ass, pulling out to shoot his load on her back.

    The sight of the paladin, covered in blood and cum, seemed to drive the demons present wild. All Lily wanted was a moment to rest, to breath, to think. Acorss the room, she saw Zamira, slumped over a chair, glassy eyed and limp as a quadrupedal demon pumped into her. “Zamira…?” She croaked, voice raw.

    “Don’t worry about her. Worry about yourself,” another demon boomed from behind her. She half turned, a massive, mountain of a red skinned fiend behind her. She wasn’t a small woman, but this thing was nearly twice her size, colossal in every measurement. Lifting her by her thighs, he pulled her off the tusked demon she had been riding.

    “Wait–Wait!” She cried, as he leaned her back against his chest and lined her up with his meat. Her pleas went unheeded as he drove up into her, fighting the resistance of her body to fit himself inside her. Cheers and hoots erupted from the gathered demons as they watched from a very good angle, her cum soaked cunt stretched to its limits around him. He held her still, talons puncturing her thighs from keeping her spread open. Blood seeping from the wounds and mixed with the cum that four demons had left in her. Lily shuddered, increasingly distraught at the way pain and pleasure seemed intermingled. Arching her body as he throbbed within her, his girth making the sensation intense. “I…can’t…” she murmured, wondering why the knowledge she had gotten in over her head was still so arousing.

    “You can,” He mocked her, moving her slowly along his length, demanding more space within her. “We are all quite familiar with the thresholds of paladin cunts.” Still holding her up by her thighs, one hand moved closer to her cunt, one long finger managing to reach her clit. One sharp talon taunting with terror as it teased her. “Beg to cum. Beg to get used. Beg to get fucked on my demon cock.”

    She didn’t beg with words, but her body twitched, clenching as he played with her clit. Her head lolled back into his shoulder, unable to figure out why even this felt good, as much as it hurt. Felt good because it hurt. The cheers of the demons, filling the room, more than she could count, grew into a crescendo as she screamed out her orgasm, still convulsing as even more demon semen lashed into her body.


    “Is that okay, Lord Mykel? If we see to you?” Melinda teases, fingers digging into the firm muscles of his thighs.

    “You’ve already seen all of us,” Cassandra reminded, as her lips tickled his ear and her hands drifted down his arms. “Is it our turn to see you?” She didn’t wait for an answer, as she began working his loose shirt up and off, in tandem with Melinda unbuckling his belt. Sighing longingly as she traced his built chest and shoulders.

    Melinda even more forward, tugging his pants down and off with enthusiasm seeking that which she had been denied last night. Letting out a low whistle as her eyes caught on this his cock. “Very nice. Shall I see to this? I imagine an erection would interfere with your conversation with Lord Furtan.” Whether he agreed or argued, she licked at the head, a slow teasing of wet tongue. Tracing mushroom ridge of the head while stroking his length. Looking up at him with wide eyes and a coquette smirk, she opened wide to take him, swallow him, savor him. Moan at the taste of his meat.

    “Damn,” Cassandra murmured, nibbling on his ear, taking this opportunity to run hands all over his physique, “Does it feel as good as it looks? Because it looks damn hot. Making me so wet, watching her suck you off. Imagining that I too might get a chance to suck that cock.”


    Clara had to admit, the royal tailor was quite talented. She had worn some nice things over the years, and the dress she wore on her wedding day would forever hold a special place in her heart, the gown sewn for Astrid’s wedding was another thing entirely. Grey and gold with sheer lace serving as sleeves, it was fitted perfect to her firm, athletic figure, capturing both femininity and strength. She was certainly keeping this one.

    Astrid's dress was quite simply a work of art. Snow white with gold beads sewn into an elaborate pattern along the bust, and collared cape trimmed in more gold. Quite clearly a dress fit for a queen, or a future queen. An elegant golden tiara completed the look, delicately crafted and adorned with a single large opal. Of course, there were a dozen maids to fuss over her appearance, hardly giving Clara or Helga a chance to add their input.

    “Is this what you imagined for her? A royal wedding?” Clara asked, feeling sympathetic nerves and anticipation for the girl.

    “Hardly. I am almost surprised anyone asked for her hand, given how headstrong and fiery she is.” Helga joked, taking a quiet moment to relax while everything else was being taken care of.

    “It’s not that surprising. After all, you married, didn’t you?” Clara teased. Helga laughed and sighed.

    “I do worry about her some. Worry how she will fit in here. It is going to be an adjustment, for certain.”

    “Oh, no doubt. But certainly, she won’t be the only one adjusting. Under Verrier’s guidance, I won’t be surprised to come back her in ten years, and find the court reformed in her image.”
     
    "My turn," said another voice as the massive demon's cock slid from her slit. A cock pressed against her, then stopped as a hand slapped her ass. "Well, fuck. She isn't responding."

    "Not like the last Paladin you fucked, hey?" laughed another voice.

    "Not at all. Bleed the other one. I want her to feel this." Zamira's unconscious form was dragged over in front of her, and a talon tore her wrist open. The bloody wound was forced to Lily's mouth, and blood trickled down her throat. As it did a thick length of cock pushed into her cum-lubricated cunt, a cock that was strangely cool inside her heat. Hands no warmer than room temperature gripped her hips, holding her firmly as he fucked himself deep into her. "You like it, don't you? Spreading for demons, on an altar sanctified to the goddess?" He slammed into her again. "I thought you would, as soon as I saw you. Soon as I knew who you were. I'm just giving you what you said you always wanted."

    Before Lily could look around, Zamira's arm was pulled away. She had a moment to see the scaled demon spread her thighs and begin fucking her unconscioius figure, before the skeletal figure that had fucked her before loomed in front of her again. His bone white cock pressed against her lips and, when she hesitated, his talons twisted painfully in her hair as he forced his length into her mouth and down her throat. Soon enough the two demons fucking her were moving in unison, spearing her on their lengths as the used her for their own pleasure. The thrusts came harder and faster until, with grunts and gasps, more cum flooded her throat and her already full womb. At the last the skeletal demon pulled out, painting her face with the last spurts of his infernal seed.

    "Have fun boys," the demon behind her laughed as he pulled out. "She has enough holes to take you all at once."


    "You don't need to..." was the last coherent thing Mykel managed to say before Melinda swallowed him whole. He gasped, hips bucking as her silky tongue played over his length and her throat gripped his head for a moment. Then she began moving, slowly sucking the whole length of his meat up and down, savoring him. His hips bucked again, hands digging into the arms of the chair with enough force to make the wood within creak.

    “Damn,” Cassandra murmured, nibbling on his ear, taking this opportunity to run hands all over his physique, “Does it feel as good as it looks? Because it looks damn hot. Making me so wet, watching her suck you off. Imagining that I too might get a chance to suck that cock.”

    "Better," Mykel grunted. "It... feels... better..." He gasped as Melinda deep-throated him then, then twisted a little and grabbed Cassandra and pulled her close. Her mouth tasted of the blood he'd drunk in the wine, and he moaned into her lips as Melinda sucked him slowly and then fast. The kiss became rough, biting at her lips and the skin of her throat, leaving little drips of blood as his fangs slowly emerged.

    "Yes!" Cassandra begged, pressing her soft body against his. "Oh, please, yes! Taste me! Feed on me!" She shrieked in pleasure as his fangs tore into her throat, and moaned in orgasmic release as he sucked greedily. The taste of her hot blood tore through him, and blood dripped from his mouth to splatter on her nearly bare breasts as he orgasmed as well. Melissa's mouth clamped around his dick as he shot his seed into her, swallowing noisily as she drank him down while he drank Cassandra.


    "Giving the bride away?" Haldebar huffed, adjusting the silver bracers that he'd been given with his new clothes. "Giving the bride away? As if Astrid doesn't have enough sense to make the decision on her own?"

    Leaning against the wall, Verrier chuckled. He'd allowed the royal tailor to craft a suit for him as well, seeing no harm in indulging the small requests of the King of Landis. "Times change, I suppose. Especially when such short lifespans are involved. What were the wedding customs like in your age, Haldebar?"

    "Simple enough, where I came from," his Senechal said, buckling his sword on. "If the girl was from your own clan, you went and asked the chief for permission. If he refused, you decided whether the girl was worth running away with and risking banishment. And if she was from another clan, you went on a raid and captured her." He shrugged. "Never paid much attention to what the city-folk did, though." He hesitated. "How do you keep all of it straight, lord?"

    Verrier laughed again. "I don't bother trying. When I take an interest at all, I let them explain it to me. And then I decide whether or not I'll abide by the customs of the day."
     
    They were using her. The demons were using her, and Lily loved it. She was more than this, more than plaything for hell, but there were no protests from her lips. Just sighs and moans that agreed with every filthy epithet the spewed at her.

    “Do you know how many demons have been in you?” one unseen demon mocked, thrusting into her swollen folds. A few thrusts later he pulled out, and walked around to the front of her, gathering her hair in a fist to control her head. Smearing her lips with a cock coated in the spunk of every demon that had already had her. When she gasped from the next to push into her, he took advantage, shoving half his length in a single go. “Can you taste them? All the demons that fucked your tight paladin pussy?”

    Everything about this was wrong. Wrong and yet alluring. Everything they did horrified her, and aroused her. Agony and ecstasy, as her body welcomed and struggled to take yet another cock, yet another load yet more abuse. Hands wrapped around her throat, causing her to clench against the cock pounding her. A hard smack across the face resulted in yet another orgasm, painful after having had so many. She wanted it to end, the shame, the maddening bliss, the insatiable lust. But she knew, even as her vision went dark, it never would.


    Melinda sighed as Mykel’s cum flowed and flooded her throat, savoring it’s salty flavor as she drank it down. Letting the muscles of her throat massage him as she swallowed every drop, licking the last pearly drops from the tip. Watching with envious eyes as he fed on Cassandra, his cock already growing firm again.

    With his taste still on her tongue, she came up behind Cassandra, pulling her away from Mykel’s mouth to kiss her. Her hands untied her dress, cupping a breast that was more than a handful for her, and offering the throbbing tit to him.

    “Fuck, you taste so good,” Cassandra moaned, the sticky string of his semen bridging their lips. “Do I taste as good to you?” She shifted her body a little, so she was on his lap now, brushing moist lips against his thighs as her supple hands stroked his meat. “Drink, until you get hard again, so I can ride this delicious cock. So I can cum on you. Would you like that, Lord Mykel? If I came on your glorious cock? May I? May I please ride your cock and cum on you, until you flood me with your seed?”



    Clara sat between Verrier and Aunt Helga in the front row, the only guests of Astrid’s. The rest of the cathedral was packed with royalty, far too numerous for Clara to keep heads or tails of. Astrid’s father was walking her down the aisle, a custom that had Clara confused still. If it symbolized Astrid moving from her parent’s home to her husband’s, why weren’t both of her parent’s present? Why wasn’t Ellistair’s father also there, to give him away to Astrid? Why did it feel as if she were being passed from one man to another? Clearly Clara was overthinking all of this. Things were strange in Landis, but no one else complained about them.

    So instead she leaned against Verrier, encouraging him to wrap his arm around her shoulders. The romance of the ceremony had her feeling affectionate, and there was no denying how handsome Verrier looked, in his new suit. And Astrid was positively glowing as she recited the vows after the official, and giddy as she was given the chance to seal their union with a kiss. Basking in the love of the ceremony, it was easy to feel her own walls slipping and melting away. All the resentment she carried fading away. Everyone stood to cheer on the newly married couple, but Clara took Verrier’s hand.

    “I haven’t seen much of the Ten Kingdoms, mostly just Sarnia. Maybe, after the wedding, when we leave here…you’ll show me around the rest of your domain?” Clara asked, the hint of acceptance in her voice. And a new-found hope for her own future in her eyes, “Our domain?”
     
    "Hey," asked one of the demons, watching as Lily went limp. "Is she dead? Did we kill the Paladin?"

    The hog-headed demon grunted, then gasped as he emptied his cum into her throat. "Naw," he laughed, watching it drool from her slack red lips to stain the couch. "I can still feel her breathing on my dick."

    The scaled demon's hips jerked as his seed gushed into her cunt. "Pity, that. I like them awake. At least she lasted longer than Zamira."

    The leather-skinned demon laughed as he took his place. "I don't fucking care," he cackled, rolling her into her back. Cum gushed from her slit as he drove himself into her depths and started pounding. "Cambion slut was begging for it, and I'm gonna give it to her. Gonna have me some more of this Paladin whore's pussy."

    Cool hands like carved marble opened her mouth, and a cool white cock shoved into her mouth and throat as her head rolled back. Both belonged to ahuman-looking demon with white skin and red eyes and shoulder-length hair the color and texture of spider silk. "Fuck," he grunted. "She's even better than her mother."

    The demons that weren't busy with Zamira gathered round, stroking theur cocks and readying themselves for their turns.


    Mykel's fangs sank into the soft flesh of Cassandra's breast, filling his mouth with blood. She moaned, gripping his head and pulling him tight, driving his teeth deeper. Melinda:s fingers massaged the breast, fircing more blood into his mouth. He pulled away, crimson dripping from his lips, his cock engorged by the taste. "You taste fucking good," he growled.

    Her blood smeared his chest as he shifted her, impaling her on his meat. Slick and ready, she slid down his length without resistance, uttering a cry if shocked pleasure as she did. A second cry followed as his fangs tire into her throat. "Fuck the cum out of me," he demanded, rocking his hips up into her as he lapped at the wound in her throat. "Show me just how much you want my seed."


    "Our domain..." Verrier purred, exercising enormous control. Inwardly he bristled. My domain! his thoughts raged, and he struggled to keep from baring fangs. It was what he'd wanted, but dragins didn't share. Not easily, and not well.

    It was why he alone of the Primordial Dragons escaped the War.

    "Yes, our domain," he repeated, squeezing her hand. "We will do that, yes."

    The king was saying something now, and Helga was sniffling and staring at her daughter, and even Haldebar's centuries-old mask cracked a little. Verrier cocked an eyebrow, trying to fathom it all. Pride, he coukd understand. She had learned well, become ruthless and cunning and wise for one so young. Astrid would make a find ruler for Landis, one day. And perhaps she would make a fine cinsort of Ellistar. But... sorrow?

    Insanity.

    "Our territory is vast, Clara. From north to south woukd take two full days in the wing, three from east to west. Later, we could visit in other shapes. Human, or even animal." He grinned a mirthless grin. "I do that, on occasion. When I wish to be unseen."
     
    Was she imagining the tensing in his body as he repeated her assertion? Our domain. Had she said something wrong? That was what he had said, just a few days before. But he squeezed her hand reassuringly, and approved. And then it was her turn to hold her tongue. Because human was her form, not a mask she wore. Dragon was a form she could take, but she was still convinced it wasn’t who she was. Instead she smiled, and walked hand in hand with him towards the courtyard.

    Of course, no expenses were spared with the reception, with seven courses and wine flowing freely. Clara and Verrier found themselves seated on the dais, off to the right of Astrid’s parents. An appropriate show of reverence, without sinking into obsequiousness. They were honored guests of the bride, after all.

    Dulcimer and harp played in harmony on the edge of her sense as guests wished the new couple well and otherwise paid their respects. Presenting their gifts to the bride and groom. Clara half worried it would never end, but Astrid and Ellistair were too giddy to notice much. Stealing looks and kisses between guests, hardly able to keep their hands off each other.

    “Shall we sneak off while no one is paying attention to us?” Clara teased, brushing her body against Verrier’s as she whispered in his ear.

    To continue following the wedding.

    “Seems Lily was more popular than Zamira,” Furtan mused, inspecting the naked body of the unconscious paladin.

    “It’s not so surprising, is it?” the demon in human form asked, “I had her several times, though I doubt she’ll remember any past the first. When’s the last time any of them had themselves a Paladin? Couple decades?”

    “Thereabout, yes,” Furtan agreed, scrutinizing the injuries she received.

    “And how about you? Will you partake of her?” he asked, wondering if he could get it up yet again.

    “Oh, eventually, I’m sure. When she’s awake. When she’s given herself over to our cause, needing to prove her devotion. Offering herself to me, to serve my pleasure.” Furtan remarked, letting golden energy flow from his fingers through her body, closing her wounds and restoring her body.

    Turning towards Zamira, his hands caressed her bare legs. Pulling them apart and around his waist. He thrust into her cum soaked sex, pulling her hips to meet his. “Sometimes I fantasize that she comes to while I am inside her. Recognizes me, as I flood her with my seed. She thinks herself my adopted daughter. What would she do if she realized she is merely my most profitable whore? She won’t even be that for much longer.” Furtan Laughed as he drove into her one last time, filling an already full womb one last time.

    With a clap, two half-dressed men entered, eyes trailing over Lily briefly. “Have them bathed and put to bed.” He instructed, and the servants nodded, getting to work.



    Melinda watched with envious eyes as Cassandra rode that cock, siting back in the chair Furtan had taken at first. Spreading herself wide, fingering herself in time with Cassandra’s movement. Next with would be her blood, powering his cock. Her cunt, squeezing and enveloping him. Her body against his taut form. She gasped as the images filled her head, informed by the vision playing out before her.

    “You are most generous,” Cassandra moaned, hips hungrily gorging herself on him. Swallowing his entire length each time, fucking herself hard on her. Hard, and fast, friction driving her wild. Thighs tight around him as she writhed. She kissed him, as hard and deep as her body around his, moaning at the taste of her blood on his tongue.

    “Lord…Lord Mykel…Please…please let me cum…Please let me cum on this thick cock” She begged, even though he never asked.” Let me…Let me have all…of …you…” She cried against his lips, praise evident in her tone. “Please…Oh Goddess, please…” Fluttering her eyes and thighs as her body clenched him, refusing to let go.
     
    "Man, this new one's hot," said the attendant on the back of the stretcher, staring at Lily's nude figure as they carried her through the mansion. The priestess had already been delivered to the attendants, and now they were on their secind trip.

    "So's Zamira," the other said. "But, yeah. She's hot."

    "You thinking what I'm thinking?" asked the first.

    The other looked up and down the hall. "Yeah. They'll be busy with Zamira for a bit, yet." With another quick glance, the two turned the stretcher and changed direction. Soon they were in an old storeroom, wherethey gripped Lily's arms and legs and draped her across a large crate. The man who'd been at the back of the stretcher fumbled with his belt, dropping his pants. Gripping his cock, he forced it into Lily's cum-slick cunt.

    "Fuck, she's tight," he groaned, gripping her hips. He grunted as he pounded his meat into her unresisting body, gasping as he approached his climax.

    "C'mon," the other man urged, watching hungrily as his fist pumped his dick. "Hurry up! We ain't got all day!"

    "Almost... almost... fuck!" His back arched as he climaxed, his seed joining that of the demons.

    As soon as he finished the second rapist took his place, his cock driving into her slit with a sound of animal pleasure. "Fuck yeah," he laughed, slamming his hips into hers as he used her. "Fucking... highborn... cunt! Not so... not so high... and... mighty... AAH!" Having jerked off as he'd watched the first rape, he didn't last long. With a gasp he emptied his cum into her, then pulled out and shot the last few drops of his seed across her belly.

    "Get cleaned off," his partner told him, tossing him a rag. "They'll be waiting."


    "Cum on that dick," Mykel growled, gripping Cassandra's hips and pumping her up and down. "Cum on that thick, hard dick!" Goddess, but he was close. Her heat clenching his hard meat and her blood - on his lips and still dripping down her chest - were painfully erotic. Gasping, he ran his tongue over her bare breasts, tasting the scarlet life that painted them. She cried out, her cunt pulsing around him as she climaxed. A moment later he followed her, his cum coating her slick walls as he emptied himself into her.

    Gasping, he ran his tongue over the wounds on her throat. They closed over, leaving only small white scars behind. Grinning he continued to caress her flesh with his tongue, cleaning away the last of the blood. Then he settled back in the chair, cupping Cassandra's breast playfully. "I'll need a little time to recover," he grinned at Melinda. "Unless you can think of a way to... inspire me?"



    Clara pressed up against him, her lips close to his ear. "Shall we sneak off while no one is paying attention to us?" she breathed playfully.

    "It seems a good time, yes," Verrier murmured. "And, no doubt, my absence would calm the nerves of the guests." All evening he'd been aware of furtive glances, quick dread-filled looks as he was pointed out by one guest to another. It was satisfying to see, at first, but quickly grew irksome.

    His chair scraped as he rose, and several long strides carried him from the hall. Outside the evening air was cool and scented with the life of the city, and the stars burned like a million eyes in the darkness. He breathed deeply, indulging the fantasy of releasing the cramped shape he wore. Of stretching his wings and taking to the sky.

    Aware of Clara's presence - the air that stirred as she moved and the warmth and musk that wind carried - he restrained himself. "Where would you go?" he asked. "Tonight, I mean."
     
    Clara shrugged, leaning on the railing, “Like I said, I’ve never been past Sarnia, before this week. I wouldn’t even know where to start.” She surveyed the surrounding city, in awe as to how big it was. The temple was large, of course, but it was a fort, practical as much as it was aesthetic. Landisford wove its wealth in every aspect of its construction, a glory to behold. “I think I just needed the fresh air. It is difficult to be a spectacle, isn’t it?”

    Sometimes it was easy to forget this wasn’t his true form. When he looked at her and smiled, a gaze that seemed to pierce her very being. Sometimes it was obvious, a grotesque, ill-fitting mask that revealed how little he thought of humanity. Now, he seemed uncomfortable, and she knew it went beyond the reception, and the pointing and staring. He wasn’t human, even if he occasionally wore it well.

    “Do dragons dance?” She asked, blue eyes twinkling under the light of the moon. She didn’t wait for the answer, stead Climbed up onto the railing to jump up. Lifting off, as arms changed into wings and her body extended. She had to wait until she had made some altitude before she transformed completely. She hovered above the castle for a few flaps, inviting Verrier to join her.



    “Inspire you, hmm?” Melinda repeated, leering with hungry eyes. She considered this for a moment, before her eyes lit up. Retrieving a small knife that was used to cut fruit or cheese, she opened her palm, letting her fist fill with blood, until her hand was stained scarlet. Then, making sure Mykel was watching, she made space on Furtan’s desk, and propped herself up. Legs spread wide, as wide she as could, revealing her taut wet cunt to his gaze.

    The bloody hand traveled down her body, leaving stark crimson fingerprints in its wake. A map for him to follow, as it were. Leading to the apex of her thigh, blossoming before his eyes. Her blood mixed with her dew as she spread herself for him. “Would you like a taste, my lord?”
     
    Mykel stared, equally transfixed and horrified as Melinda slashed open her palm and smeared her black of over her body. The unhuman part of his heritage craved the taste, fangs extending as he watched. Blood was an offering of life, representing all that a mortal could sacrifice. But the human part of his heritage rebelled at the act.

    Was it hypocrisy? Perhaps. But the knife wound was far larger than the small tears his fangs made, and it bled more freely. And he hadn't missed the way she'd winced in pain as she'd smeared her blood across her body.

    "No," he heard himself say as he crossed the gap and took Melinda's hand. "Love is the gift of the goddess," he murmured, tracing the bloody gash with his thumb. Golden light trailed in its wake, closing the slash and healing it without a scar. "Love, and pleasure. Not pain."

    He stared into the woman's eyes, seeing confusion and rejection and hurt, and he sighed. "I'm... sorry," he whispered, unsure what he was apologizing for. Then he glanced at Cassandra, who looked on with bafflement as well. "Perhaps... perhaps you would walk with me? Tell me more if your rites of worship?" A brief hesitation. "Once we dress?"



    "Do dragons dance?" Clara asked as they mounted stairs and emerged into the cool air of the evening. From the top of the tower, the city sprawled out like a map. Like something he could reach out and grasp.

    "Upon occasion," Verrier replied, staring out into the night. "Why!"

    Clara's only response was to climb onto the crenellations and hurl herself into the air, taking flight on golden wings. She smiled down at him as she rose, a smile of challenge and invitation as she rose into the sky. Her body writhed and changed, taking on the shape she favored when wearing the skin of a dragon.

    Verrier laughed and followed, leaping impossibly high as his shape rippled and stretched. Arms became great wings as they caught the air, and wind blasted the courtyard as he rose in leisurely fashion. The glossy black scales on his back glittered in the moonlight, and the blood-red plates that armored his thrust and belly reflected the torchlight below.

    Voices babbled up towards then, cries of fear and alarm. He could pick out Astrid's voice among them as the wedding party stared upwards, the lone laughter in a sea of terror. And then the city fell away beneath him as he climbed into the night sky.

    "Choose a direction, Clara!" he laughed.
     
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