By: SinfulWolf

Crouching on the top of a house, Kira watched as a procession of guards jogged down the street, past her position. If they looked up, they’d be able to see her easily, silhouetted by moonlight as she was, but Kira had learned quickly that people seldom looked upwards, when so many other obvious hiding places were on the street. She listened to them once they were out of view, the rattling of their armour and pounding of boots upon the finely paved streets letting her know exactly where they were.

Once she deemed them far enough away, the wolfkin rose to her feet and ran along the rooftop, leaping for the next one. When the chase had begun earlier that day, each jump had been desperate, unsure. She found that she was getting rather skilled at it now. The boots she had stolen from a lone guard she’d managed to surprise gave some comfort to her feet, blistered from tearing across the city for the afternoon and the evening. The sword hanging from her hip gave comfort to her mind, knowing she’d be able to defend herself.

She still wasn’t sure how long it’d been since she’d been put in the cell. Had Thaden already left the inn? Or would he still be there? It was her only hope now, but first Kira had to find a way out of the city. She had been thinking about it most of the day. The gates were not an option, and the walls were too high without a rope she didn’t have. The sewers though, they might be an option, but only if they led out from the city, and she wasn’t sure they did. There was so many lurking doubts, but she had to find something and quick.

With animal instincts guiding her footfalls, Kira managed to be quiet with each leap, each step. No one below heard her dash, even when she jumped over alleys and scrambled across homes and shops. The city was dark, even if moonlight lit the rooftops. Candles and lanterns had been blown out as people went to bed, seeking solace from the encroaching Kazdruk in their sleep.

Once, what seemed like ages ago now, Kira had envied all these people, living in this gorgeous city. Now she pitied them, knowing that what they did was merely shoving their head in the sand, and ignoring what came for them. She had seen what came of that when she saw the battlefield where she lost her sister.

The wolfkin came to a stop as she thought of Lillium, letting her mind drift back to that tribunal she’d had before the council, before the fall that had her losing the first stolen sword, and grasping at rock and trees sprouting from the cliffside. Despite the cuts and gashes on her arms and legs, Kira had landed safely in a small patch of someone’s garden before taking off. Lillium, a traitor.

Kira did not want to believe it, but it was that very name that had damned her to execution, rather than the salvation she had expected. She didn’t know what to think of the mater, and so pushed it to the back of her mind. She would have to discover the truth on her own, and if she had to, put a sword through Lillium’s chest herself.

So she started to run again, leaping over another house, when the sounds of a struggle reached her ear. She turned, and leaned over the edge of the building she was upon, and spied a man shoving a woman against a wall, a dagger to her throat. The bottom half of his face was concealed behind a dark mask while he roughly fondled her breasts through the fabric of her dress. She whimpered, even as the blade ran downwards, cutting the dress open, revealing a deeper plunge of cleavage until her full breasts fell out into the moonlight completely.

Kira thought of intervening, but the memory of no one helping her at all, in this whole city, had that thought vanishing like a wisp of smoke. So she merely watched as pink nipples emerged to her eyes, the woman’s eyes wide with fear, while the knife continued its descent. The dress fell from the woman’s shoulders, and the masked man let out a small sound of triumph, and Kira saw his hand flick deftly to the side, and a purse fell from the woman’s hip.

The man easily caught it, and even from her perch, Kira could hear the chink of coin landing in the palm of the man’s hand. He leaned forward, letting his tongue roll over the woman’s breast, before pulling back from the woman. He left her in the alley, leaning half naked against the wall as he vanished from her sight into the shadows.

At least, that’s what the victim would have assumed, but Kira’s other senses were as sharp as her eyes anymore. She could smell his sweat, hear his feet shuffling, and grinned as she followed him. She was careful tracking his progress, even as the woman’s scream behind her told her that the woman had just called for help. Best to stay away from there now that the guards would be returning. Kira didn’t feel like pushing her luck wearing rags, and wielding a stolen sword. She didn’t even know how well trained these guards were.

Stopping at the edge of a roof, the Wolfkin leaned out into empty air, grasping the tiles firmly as she looked down. The thief she’d been trailing was kneeling on the side of a street, his head flicking in either direction quickly before he lifted a sewer grate, and Kira silently cursed. If he got into the sewers, she’d lose all advantages.

The man’s arm was straining as he lifted the heavy iron grate, his focus on his task, until a flicker of movement above him broke all concentration. The thief leapt backwards, the sewer cover dropped back into place with a loud crash, and he stumbled, not expecting the woman that landed before him. As his hand went for the small knife, a sword was whipped out, the point aiming at his chest, and the man cursed himself. Then he saw who it was before him.

“You! You’re the demon they’re all looking for,” he accused, and Kira gently shook her head, and took a step closer.

“I am Wolfkin. You should know the tales of your own people before licking Elven boots,” she shot back, and put the point of her blade just under her chin.

“So you’ll kill me then?”

“No. You, are going to help me get out of this city.”

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Mia stared upwards at the succubus that had dominated her life, after destroying everything that had once made it dear. Lillium’s striking eyes stared back, a look of amusement dancing upon her red lips. They glistened gently in the low light, and Mia blushed, knowing it was from the concubine Yannifer. She had seen the sadistic elf with her face between the succubus’s thighs, tongue plunging into her. The images rose a heat between her own legs, and her blush grew, even as her eyes slipped lower to Lillium’s cunt, exposed as she lounged.

Lillium said nothing as she sat upon her throne, a single claw tapping upon the eye socket of her armrest. The sound pierced into Mia’s mind, but nothing happened, Lillium’s expression was unreadable, her thoughts unknown, and Mia’s thoughts wandered. The past few days have been a confusing ride that tested her faith with each passing moment.

Lillium let her wander the ground of the castle and village, and at first Mia had thought to escape. But the Helot guards that trailed her every move made that impossible. The nun knew that should she flee, she would not be sleeping in the comfortable chambers with the two concubines of the baroness. Mia had only known Rania the past few years, since the young woman had travelled to Innisgar for business. She had always been a quiet, kind, and respected woman, but not anymore. Whatever Lillium had done to her, the creature that wore Rania’s skin was a lustful bastion of sin and depravity. A temptress that drew Mia ever closer to damnation, and each night Mia had to stave the temptations that goaded her to the bed Yannifer and Rania shared noisily, if they were not tending to the needs of their mistress.

That’s why Mia had wandered, to get away from that path that grew more and more difficult to deny. But the people’s faith had been tested in ways Mia could only guess at. Turned to slaves, they worked for the Baroness, Volgras village teeming with life once more, though the old inn had been converted into a whorehouse, the blacksmith now produced weapons for the Helot soldiers, and dark worship happened within the old chapel that Mia refused to step foot into. She tried to talk with the people, these chained slaves that wore collars and worked until the sun set, secretly preaching the word of Oan.

At first, people found comfort in it, but as days dragged past, they listened less, and eventually began to openly scorn the young nun. Oan was dead to them, they claimed he turned their backs on him, and most had forsaken religion altogether, while more still began to worship the darkness, the path of the Kazdruk. Tattoos began to appear on flesh, and metal collars vanished to be replaced by more comfortable leather ones in place merely as a sign of their place in the world. The whores accepted their place, began to revel in it, dressing in tight leather pieces that didn’t hide their forms, but accentuated it instead. Mia even ran into her former sisters, Ana and Helena, and had been chocked at what she saw.

Nothing remained of their habits, save the head dress they seemed to wear out of mockery. Tattoos curled over their lower back, and their lips were painted bright red. Their clothes were simple loincloths, that exposed all when they walked, and heeled shoes that protected their feet. Though Mia also noted the thin bands of silk around their necks; a sign of ownership. They walked hand in hand, their lips much too close as they spoke to be chaste. When Mia approached them, there merely turned their noses upwards and turned their backs to her.

“Your mind wanders Mia,” the sultry voice of Lillium pulled her viciously back to the present, in the room she kneeled upon, naked save her own head dress. Looking up at the glistening cunt of the demonic temptress, Mia felt her mouth water. She put a single hand forward, but Lillium’s expression did not change, she did not say anything else.

Still, Mia felt the compulsion, and put another hand forward, put a knee forward, crawled those scant few inches closer. Closer to damnation. She thought again of the people in the village, her sisters, how they all turned from Oan, and looked… happy. A sickly knot began to unwind itself in Mia’s gut, as she pondered: ‘what if they’re right?’

A few more inches, closer and closer, she could smell Lillium’s skin she was so close, a mixture of blood, sex, and sweat, but also something else that actually pulled the nun closer; earth, the lavender that still grew in the gardens behind the castle, and more. If Mia was honest with herself, smelling Lillium was like being in the forest after a fresh kill. She was like a representation of the darkest aspects of freedom, despite her collars, her authority. Mia licked her lips and moved closer until she felt her shoulders slide along the inside of Lillium’s thighs.

A shiver of promised delights ran from the base of her neck all the way to her spine, and when the succubus’s thighs parted, Mia felt a tinge of disappointment that she no longer felt the smooth skin against her own. Her lips were now just inches from Lillium’s womanhood, and her heart was pounding. The smell of sex overpowered all else she was so close to her own damnation.

All she had to do was extend her tongue, that was it, and she’d be welcomed as Lillium’s third concubine, and be forever barred from Oan’s paradise. But… in this moment, Mia’s mind broke through the lust, through the lies, through the deceit and saw truth. Oan didn’t care for her, he had let her village fall, be taken, despite every word of gospel that said he would protect his children. She had seen suffering all her life, and not even all at the hands of the Kazdruk. Poverty, famine, disease, crime, and the nobles. Mia felt a tight anger burning in her heart, and grabbed a hold of it. She looked up at Lillium, who let the corners of her mouth curl upwards ever so slightly.

She reached downward, and ran the sharp points of her claws over Mia’s cheek, and the nun let the lust, all of the desires she’d been holding back her whole life, rush back into her heart at that moment, mingling with the anger, and the hatred. She felt a connection with Lillium, understood everything in that moment of perfect clarity that no God had seen fit to bless her with. No, it was the succubus above her that had finally given her that which she sought her whole life.

“Mistress,” Mia whispered, as if afraid anything louder would shatter the moment, would push back the darkness that she felt swirling ever deeper into her soul. She tasted the word as it slipped from her lips, let it curl outwards, showing the succubus the open doors to her heart, and the warmth she felt within as shadows wrapped her like a blanket. Lillium’s smile grew, it was cruel, vile, and corrupt. The shivers it sent down Mia’s spine were very different than the shudders from even the day before, for she saw the beauty, the passion, and the comfort that smile offered her.

For it, Mia plunged herself between the thighs of her mistress, and thrust her tongue deep within her, and tasted freedom in the sweet nectar of damnation.

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The sun bore down upon the thick woolen sheet draped over the back of the cart, and hidden beneath sacks of salt, wax, wicks, and various tools, Kira felt sweat rolling over her body, wrapped in her own white shroud. The roads through the city were thankfully smooth as the horse drawn cart made its way to the gates, and the Wolfkin could hear the buzz of people bustling through the streets and markets that she remembered from when she first entered. Even without seeing it, the very sounds of the teeming people were almost overwhelming for Kira.

Shadows passed over the cloth, and the cart came to a slow stop. When the sound of metal armour shifting, Kira knew a guard was stepping forward, and they were finally at the gates. This was the moment of truth, and where the wild plan would come through gloriously, or crumble and Kira would find herself either drenched in the blood of those she strove to protect, or once again clapped in shackles and facing execution.

With heart pounding in her chest, she heard the guard asking questions, and Shadow responded. As the thief’s words slipped from his lips, a story about delivering goods out to the farmsteads that surrounded Driftafay, Kira thought about making the plan in the darkness before dawn. When he had introduced himself as merely ‘Shadow’ Kira had rolled her eyes, but when he stood his ground, serious that that was his name, she had snorted and very nearly laughed in his face.

A softer feminine voice began to speak, and Kira knew that Ana was playing her part as merchant’s wife to give some extra credibility. Hopefully the guard did not frequent the brothel she worked from, or if he did that his eyes were focused much lower than her face. Though of course, Kira had seen Ana’s dress before she climbed into the cart, and there was more breast open to the eyes than covered. Another element to their plan.

After a few minutes, the guard shouted something, but beneath all the sacks, Kira couldn’t make it out, and her heart leapt. Then the cart was moving again, and she heard the sound of the gates opening slowly. A long breath of relief flooded out from Kira’s lungs, and she almost felt like laughing, but managed to keep herself quiet. The further out from the city they got, the more the road bumped and the cart rattled. A dull ache grew in Kira’s back, and she began to grow sullen trapped like a mummy in the cart.

Finally, it stopped. A pair of feet hit the ground, and the canvas was pulled back, and Kira sat up, peeling the wrap from her face. Just before her was the forest, and to her side the inn where Thaden hopefully still was. Glancing over her shoulder at the walls of Driftafay, she felt a bit of her hope slip away, and remembered the dark truths that she had learned within. She had to find Lillium, had to prove that she’d heard only vile lies.

Clambering out of the cart Kira nodded to Shadow and Ana both. “Thank you,” she said quietly, and got a nod in return from thief and whore, before Shadow leapt back onto the front of the cart and snapped the reins.

“I think we’ll meet again,” Shadow said, tapping two fingers to his forehead in a salute, as the horse began its way back towards the city.

For a moment she watched him go, not sure why she had a strange feeling about them in her gut. They were leaving, she was outside the city; there was no more they could do to her.

Clad in travelling breeches, knee high riding boots, and a wide brimmed she’d taken from Shadow, as well as a green and red corset that Ana had brought for her from the brothel, her tail and ears were hidden from view, though her cleavage certainly wasn’t. Still, the corset was better than the prison rags she had been wearing… or the leathers she had before.

As she slipped into the bar, she earned the gazes of the patrons regardless, but at least this time there wasn’t hostility in their eyes, just lust. Lust she could handle. Her eyes scanned the room, and even beneath her hat, her ears perked, listening to snatches of various conversations. There were more than enough comments about her breasts, and a few chatting about a caravan robbery from a few days ago, and one or two snippets about her own escape from Evermar palace.  

As she made her way slowly to the bar, it started to sink in that she really didn’t have a clue what she was doing. Entirely out of her element, stranded outside a hostile city, and not sure where to turn, Kira let out a long sigh and sat herself at the bar. She was about to order something when she felt the lightest touch on her arm, and a familiar scent reach her nose.

“I’m guessing things didn’t go overly well, guessing by the fact that you’re wearing a whore’s corset,” Thaden said as he sat himself down beside her, and despite herself Kira laughed. It was a strained humourless sound, and Thaden didn’t smile. Before she could respond though, the bandit continued.

“I heard the rumours. Was about to get out of here myself. Come on, we’ll figure it out on the road,” he said, slipping a few coins onto the bar top for the innkeep before rising from his stool and moving swiftly towards the door. Kira followed, and knew that her faith in everything had been shattered.

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The plush leather boots, with dark metal plates skillfully sewn over the top of the foot and the shin, hit the stone floor with a dull thump. Armour made its distinctive rattle as Lorth climbed the stairs of Castle Volgras. The Helot captain did not know why Lillium had summoned him, and a growing knot of concern tightened in his gut. Had she recounted giving him the rank of captain, toying with him as all Kazdruk do? Did she intend to whip him for some unforeseen slight against her? He flexed his hands nervously, wishing he were instead back in the home he had made for himself in the village, laying naked between his two slaves who had grown loyal to him since Innisgar had fallen. Or on the battlefield, sword in hand, awash in the blood of his enemies.

When the concubine of his mistress appeared at his door however, her fangs gleaming with her grin that held no answers, Lorth could not refuse. So here he was, ready to face again the spite of a Kazdruk noble, and felt nervousness turn to bitterness. He pushed open the doorway to the throne room, and blinked at the sight before him.

Lillium was leaning back in her throne, bottomless, one hand upon the nun who would be her third concubine, as Mia hungrily ate out the succubus. Lorth blinked, and stepped forward, and was further surprised when Lillium smiled.

“Captain, welcome,” the succubus purred, her voice as silky smooth and seductive as ever, and with that touch of cold steel that hinted to the warrior that was a nightmare to her enemies. Lorth bowed his head, fist over his heart.

“Mistress, you summoned me?” he said, his heels pressed together smartly.

“I did. To reward your services to Volgras. I’ve read your reports, and seen the work first hand. Most impressive,” Lillium said, moans punctuating her speech as Mia’s tongue continued to delve into her cunt. Lorth stared, starting to feel his own lust arise in his loins, his bitterness and nervousness melting away, leaving only the Helot warrior.

“So step forward Lorth, take what I offer, and know that me and you will go far,” Lillium purred, the last scarcely a whisper that had the Helot cocking his head to the side, even as his works worked at the straps keeping his armour in place, baring more of his nearly gray skin.

Lillium’s eyes raked over his form, the hard chiselled muscle, the scars of war and whip marking his flesh, the cock rising between his legs, long and thick as it hardened. Lillium’s tongue slid out over her lips as she watched the Helot step forward, his eyes flicking upwards to the succubus as his hands grasped Mia’s hips, as if suspecting some trick.

“Those that serve me well Lorth, will not know betrayal by my hand,” the succubus purred, her claws pressing gently against the fallen nun’s head dress, pulling Mia tighter into her slick cunt, while she stared into the demonic visage of her captain.

Lorth let out a growling roar that rumbled in his throat, a sound of strength, and Mia groaned. The nun’s muffled voice rose higher, a full moan spilling against the nether lips wrapped around her tongue, as Lorth plunged inside her. Lorth let his hips hammer forward, balls slapping against Mia’s thighs, as he plunged into her, his sharp teeth gritted together as he rutted the last nun of Innisgar.

He savoured the smooth feel of her skin beneath his calloused hands, running them over her hips, up to her sides. He grasped her roughly, and pulled her back with each thrust he made inside her, earning another muffled moan of lustful delight. His pale yellow eyes ran over her naked form, his grunts getting louder, heavier, until his gaze left her body and found the pale skin of his Mistress, pale and creamy and hiding the hard muscle beneath. Daring, he let his eyes trail further upwards and found her gaze.

He looked away for a moment, ashen hair flipping around his head, thinking he’d crossed a line, but all that reached his ears was the sensuous moan pouring from Lillium’s lips. Lorth looked up again, never ceasing the forward press of his hips, sending his cock plunging into the hot depths of Mia’s cunt, and found Lillium’s eyes once more.

They stared at each other, two warriors lost in carnal delight. Lillium broke eye contact this time, when she threw her head back, letting out a long moan of pleasure, as Mia’s tongue brought her to orgasm. Lorth watched, enthralled at the dangerous beauty before him, and for a flash saw her as she was in Innisgar, clad in armour, sword in hand, and smeared with the blood of her enemies.  Lorth let out a loud animalistic grunt, his fingers digging hard into Mia’s side, and flooded her with his hot sticky cum.

For a moment he simply kept himself within her, feeling his cum and her juices slide out around his prick, dripping to the stones beneath his feet. Lillium brought her eyes back down, and grinned at Lorth, and the Helot parted his jaws, showing the full length of his incisors. It was his equivalent of a smile.

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Kneeling in the shadows of the brothel’s basement, Ana looked towards the stairs through partially open door. No one was about as the sun began its descent. Soon the brothel would be teeming with men with far too much coin, and far too little charm, and Ana would be upon her back once again.

In this moment though, she stripped herself of clothing for other reasons. Closing the door softly, her naked skin was lit only by a pair of soft candles, flicking on either side of a small shrine. No one could discover this place, the brothel would be shut down by the church, who scarcely let them practice to begin with.

Upon her knees, Ana slid two fingers inside herself, unable to stop the soft moan that slipped free, before drawing a rune between her breasts with her own juices. She kneeled, and kissed the small block of obsidian and righted herself again.

“Niseth, I pray you hear my voice. I do not seek aid, or revenge. I offer information, about the Wolfkin,” the whore whispered quietly.

From the shadows behind her felt talons running along her back, a serpentine tongue flicking against her neck. Ana should have been terrified, but she had long ago learned that the church had no place for a woman with nowhere to turn. Niseth had only ears and comfort for her.

“Tell me everything.”

Lorth receives his reward, and Mia succumbs to her mistress

By: SinfulWolf

The purple flame flickering in a sconce of iron bathed the room in light. Blood and cum, some of it fresh, stained the stone floors of this room, high within Yuldasha’s spire. Soft sobs flowed like sweet music from a corner, shadows flickering and partially obscuring a mutilated and ravaged young boy, with cum sliding down his thighs, from Aeltha’s more recent enjoying of him.

“Javan… whore. Little louder please?” Aeltha asked from her perch before her desk, pouring over ancient manuscripts for the upcoming invasion. It had been long since she performed such spells, and she needed to be perfect.

At the sorceress’s request, Javan’s sobs came louder, and Aeltha smiled. Eventually she leaned back, only to savour the boy’s sorrow. He had failed his queen, his people, and now he belonged to her. A plaything, a future experiment. Aeltha closed her eyes, feeling her cock swell as thoughts of what to do with the boy swirled in her mind. What changes could she make to his form? There was no anger or hatred in him, she could not so fully corrupt him as she did Lillium, or Rhyeesh.

Perhaps the concoction she had made for Lillium’s new pet would be of use… but that would be less savory. Flaying his flesh, and making a monster of him could have its uses as well.

Folding one arm beneath her bust, and letting her others gently stroke her chin as she thought, letting the ceaseless sobs spur her imagination, she was caught by surprise when someone whispered her name.

“Mistress,” came the steely caress of shadows, and even Javan’s sobs were cut off abruptly as Aeltha looked up from her day dreams. A small smirk curled her lips as she set eyes upon her spy, the same one not even Yuldasha knew of. Niseth, one of her first experiments in this world. A former prostitute of the proud kingdom that had occupied the Dead Sea, she had already been well versed in the art of knowledge taking.

Not surprisingly, when the Kazdruk came, the prostitutes who had not been treated well under the old laws, willingly gave themselves to their demonic invaders. Niseth was no exception, but Aeltha had decided this particularly bright whore had better uses than merely spreading her legs for food, shelter and good treatment by their new masters.

The woman that had been was no more, her old name discarded when knife pressed to flesh, and agony drove away any memory of humanity. Now she stood before her mistress, her skin an ashen gray colour, her eyes red as embers. Wings of dull black metal, screwed into her spine with thick bolts, her own flesh stretched and curled over the base, her nerves surgically attached to the pulleys and levers to make them work, were pulled tightly against her back. She wore a low cut corset, that was pierced into the skin of her flanks, the leather black and gleaming, matching the strips of leather that flowed from her hips. With her movements, flashes of leg and rear could be seen by the observant… if they even managed to see the shadowy spy to begin with. A pair of soft soled boots, with a thick and tall heel completed her ensemble.

“My dear Niseth. Tell me what your eyes have seen,” Aeltha purred, running her fingers through the long black and gray hair of her agent, before running down her bare arms, all the way to her talon tipped fingers. For her part Niseth shivered at the touch, before turning to look at the man strapped to the wall in the corner, serpentine tongue flickering across her lips, showing the gleaming metal of unnatural fangs.

Of course, now Aeltha could see her creation’s back, where the skin had been peeled away, showing the hints of ribs and wet muscle. The sorceress grinned at the sight.

“I followed Lillium’s progress as ordered, arriving at Innisgar before she did. The whispers I heard showed that they knew not of her yet… but there is something she has not told us,” Niseth said turning to face her mistress again. Javan let out a moan of fear as he saw the partly mechanical beast’s back.

Aeltha frowned, Lillium had been nothing but loyal since her corruption. What would she be hiding? The sorceress moved over to her books, and found one bound in red leather. She leafed through it, past all the notes and diagrams of her experiments of corruption until she found Lillium.

“What makes Lillium so effective, is also what makes her so dangerous to us. Her corruption did not change who she was in her heart… only let it free. She may have used to fool herself, but she was never a good person. This of course means that her loyalty is to herself first,” Aeltha said, and shook her head.

“A true Kazdruk… what is it that she’s hiding?” Aeltha asked.

“Her sister. Named Kira, and a wolfkin. Lillium has not been asking after her. Whispers amongst the captives say that they think she has forgotten, but I do not think she has,” Niseth said.

“No… no she would not have forgotten. She does not want even her own soldiers to know of Kira. This is indeed cause for concern.”

“Yet you will not tell Yuldasha.” It was a statement, not a question, and Aeltha smiled at Niseth’s observation.

“No… no I will not. But Javan here has heard much too much. I can’t let things slip free that are not meant to be heard outside this room,” Aeltha said, as she strutted to a table nestled against the wall at the side of the room. Delicately she picked up a razor sharp knife and held it before Javan’s eyes.

“Hold out your tongue dear, it’s time for the first incision,” the sorceress purred.

Niseth shuddered in demented pleasure, a shiver that ran through her flayed back, and a moan that poured through black painted lips, a Javan let out a blood curdling scream… and the blood flowed.

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Aeltha wiped her hands across her bust, leaving great smears of crimson that had Niseth licking her lips as they stood over the unconscious form of Javan, covered in a thick white sheet, stained with his own blood.

“It still amazes me how much you can know,” Aeltha said to her pet, and Niseth laughed quietly.

“I have many lips eager to whisper into my ear.”

Aeltha nodded, wondering exactly how far spread Niseth’s network spread. She truly had no idea about the woman’s contacts, and knew she never would. Niseth would never divulge the information. The shadows belonged to her above any other spy in the world.

“Find this Kira. Follow her, discover everything you can. If its possible… discover why Lillium has not told us this important fact. Go now, and return when you discover what I desire,” Aeltha growled.

Niseth bowed low, and slipped through the door without a sound. No one would know she was even in the spire. No one aside from Aeltha even truly knew of her existence. She let out a long sigh, wondering what game was afoot now, under her very nose.

She glanced back to her desk where a side project of hers was sitting. A slim black tiara with a ruby set in its centre, and a matching choker, though two small onyx gems framed the ruby centre. A gift for Yuldasha, and Aria. Should the queen ever return to her homeland, she will be an entirely different kind of ruler.

The sorceress grinned as she lifted the tiara, glancing at the small needle points on the inside, black fluid dripping from their points. 

By: SinfulWolf

Driftafay was not far now, Thaden had said as they stopped for what should be their final night upon the road. His two companions had left the day prior, muttering something about finding more profit on other journeys, but Thaden had stayed true to his word. An honest outlaw he had called himself when confronted with it. Kira did not know whether to believe it or not, but she was thankful for his company, and after the few days of travel had come to find his crass behaviour enduring, even pleasant in a way.

So now they sit beneath the trees of the massive forest that would take them nearly to the city, before plains and farmland opened the sky to whoever walked the roads curling through it. Gathered around a fire, their bellies full with a deer Kira had brought down, they simply enjoyed the company of the other.

Thaden played his flute, the soft music curling into the night air, relaxing and cheerful; a stark contrast to the dark days the plagued this world. He leaned against his pack, sitting upon the grass with his eyes closed as his fingers danced with practiced skill along the length of the instrument. Bangs of sandy hair fell over his brow, very nearly reaching his eyes, and Kira watched him with a small smile upon her lips.

The music did not quite drown out the sounds of the forest, she could hear an owl within the trees as it hunted, could hear the chirp and buzz of insects within the undergrowth, and the rush of the wind between the leaves that hung over them like a blanket from the world outside and the horrors within.

The smell of burning wood, so relaxing in this setting, curled with the bitter smoke rising into the air. The moist earth and even the hard bark of trees had their scent, reaching out to Kira’s senses. She leaned further back against her own pack, but kept her eyes on her companion. She could smell him too, his musk, the sweat upon his skin, even the deer upon his breath. It was almost intoxicating, swirling through her blood and surging in her loins.

 Slowly she rose to her feet as Thaden continued his music, and pulled off her boots. She walked like an animal, feet graceful and predatory as she stalked towards the man feeling the grass and earth between her toes and against the soles of her feet. Fingers arched like claws as his scent washed away all else around them. The heat of the fire was upon her back now, warming her skin through the leathers she wore. Standing above him, heart pounding within her chest, she watched the quick and precise movements of his fingers along his flute.

For a moment she simply stood, until his eyes slid open. He looked upwards, flute falling from his lips, and gazed upon the woman before him. Life burned in her eyes with an animalistic fury, and he smiled softly, warmly. He carefully slid his instrument into the leather sleeve he always carried with him, as Kira peeled away her top, exposing her flesh to moon and fire light. Shadows danced across her bronzed skin as she lowered herself until she straddled his lap. The animal skin skirt she wore rising up to her hips with the motion, revealing her thighs.

Leaning in, she ran her nose up his neck to his jawline, earning a soft gasp of desire from the man’s lip, taking in his raw scent. Her fingers slid over his jerkin, carefully undoing the toggles that kept it closed, and kept his body from her hungry gaze. Running his hands over her sides, he felt the power in her muscles, coiled and ready to unleash, as the tips of her breasts graced his now bared chest.

Her lips found his own, and Thaden found himself lost in the touch. His mouth opened, her breasts firm against his body, her tongue pushing between his lips. Hungry and passionate their lips caressed and tongues danced while her fingers slid down his flesh to his pants.

Unlatching the buckle of his belt, Kira pulled the strip of leather from around him, flicking it to the side to land in the grass before undoing the clasps of his trousers. Thaden let out a hungry groan, muffled by their kiss, as he felt Kira’s hand grasp his cock, already hard in her fingers. She guided him, the head of his prick sliding along her thighs to her nether lips, slick with lust.

Their moans mingled as she lowered her hips, feeling him push inside her. He grasped her hair, pulling her tight against him as she began to roll her hips, feeling him slide in and out of her cunt. Her hands explored his skin, the old scars and firm muscle beneath. He grasped her ass firmly, guiding her movements, thrusting up to meet her. Her breasts bounced with each movement, stiff nipples dragging over his chest as they fucked beneath the boughs of the tree.

Sweat and sex filled her nostrils as she rode him, juices streaming down his cock and over his lap, lips far from satiated as the entwined with one another. She could hear his heart pounding, taste his lust on his tongue. It was nearly overwhelming.

Because of it, she did not see the shape that moved within the tree line, watching with red eyes.

><>< 

The inn looked to be a rather ramshackle establishment, and even now not so long from the sun reaching its zenith, there were some rather less than savory characters lounging around outside, one or two openly staring at Kira in her leathers. She ignored them and spoke only to Thaden.

“I’ll wait here for two days. Anything goes wrong, we’ll go back to the forest, figure the rest out from there,” he told her.

“Sure you don’t want to come with?”

“Of course I’m sure. I’m not exactly well liked in the city. Nor do I really want to be,” he said, glancing towards the walls of Driftafay, along the cobblestone road used by traders, merchants and farmers to gain entrance to the city with crops and wares for the market.

“Good luck then,” Kira said simply, with a stiff nod before starting off down the road. Thaden smiled and shouted after her.

“I think I’m supposed to be wishing you that,” he said, the mirth heavy in his voice, before he turned to slip into the inn, and Kira was on her own once more.

For hours she walked along the road, putting one foot in front of the other, while the walls of the city grew larger, and the ground between her and them shrank. A few carts passed her by, fearful riders glancing down at her and her strange form as they went by. What struck her though, were the carts full of people, dirty and disheveled, the occupants clinging at very few belongings.

Refugees, fleeing the onslaught of the Kazdruk hordes sweeping ever further inwards. Whispers and teary eyes told tales of bloodshed and horror. These were only the ones who managed to get away, so many were left behind to became corpses or slaves. It spurned Kira faster, knowing that her people were out there, counting on her.

It was well into the afternoon when Kira finally arrived at the large gates of Driftafay. The heavy oak panels strengthened by thick bands of steel were opened wide to the world, but there seemed to only be movement into the city, and none out of it. A handful of guards, in steel plate and holding long pikes with swords sheathed at their hips, stood watching those that entered their gates from beneath the rims of their open faced helmets.

Not all of them were humans either. Two, including one with a green plume curling down from the crest of his helmet and dangling to his back, were Elves. The plumed guard seemed to watch the others as much as those that streamed in through the gates, and Kira found he made her nervous.

Still, she walked as calmly as she could through the opening in the mighty walls surrounding the city, and embracing all those that lived within. Standing upon the cobblestone street that led through all the multi story buildings, she felt her breath taken away.

All her life she had lived in villages and small towns, and hunted and worked in forests. Never before had she set eyes upon a city proper. Now here she was, and despite the urgency of her mission she couldn’t help but admire what spread out before her. The buzz of people, the streets curling between well built homes and shops, spires of towers shooting up into the skyline. And in the centre of the city, perched atop a hill, was the great palace of Evarmar, where the council of the Coalition sat, where emissaries from all the Human clans and Elven houses met together, to determine what was best for all.

At its corners, almost impossibly tall and thin towers speared into the clouds, while the core, a great dome of stained glass that was said to shimmer with the light of a thousand candles at night, stood glimmering in the sunlight of day. Blue and green danced on its surface, and Kira gazed in wonder at its beauty. She could not see the gardens that surrounded it from this distance, nor the white walls that held up the dome, with exquisitely carved columns and statues marking it as a marvel of Human and Elven craftsmenship.

She put one foot before the other, and started to make her way towards the palace, to see it first hand, to enter and find salvation for her people, when a gruff voice called out. She turned, it was the Elf guard with the plumed helmet, pointing at her, sword in his hand. The humans stared in wonder, but other elves came rushing forward from within a door built into the stone of the wall. A guardroom, or gatehouse of some sort.

Kira felt a breath catch, wondering what had set them off, panic settling in, hand reaching down for the sword at her hip, but she was hesitant to turn blade against her own side. For her hesitation, she had no defense against the club that struck her in the back of the skull. Pain exploded in her head as all vision went black. She felt herself landing hard upon the street, and the gasps of the people around as guards surrounded her.

Another strike, and she was sent into unconsciousness.

><>< 

Two days. That’s how long Thaden said he would wait, but Kira did not know how long she had been unconscious. The sun was up, but with the blood clotted in her hair, it could have been for much longer than a few hours. She still did not know what had brought on the attack, for she had awoken in this cell, bound in chains, and no one had spoken to her, or given her anything since she awoke an hour before.

All she did, was pass the time by staring through the bars at the sun slowly climbing over the dome of the Evarmar Palace, trying not to think of who had stripped her and dressed her in the moth bitten rags that concealed her now. Hanging her head, she tried not to let despair creep in. She needed to get through this, for her people.

A ear stabbing screech sounded behind her, as the rusty iron gate swung open, and heavy metal boots sounded behind her.

“On your feet prisoner,” came the same deep Elven voice from earlier; the guard in the plumed helmet.

With chains rattling upon the stone floor, and between her wrists, Kira stood and turned to face the guard. He glared at her with suspicion and even hatred. Kira slowly came to understand what had happened, and she cursed herself for being so foolish about her own body; the Elves did not have stories of Wolfkin, her ears and tail had brought suspicion of demonic corruption. For now she would simply have to play along until she could prove her innocence, but she could not be patient for long.

“Seems the council wants to see you. Come with me,” the guard said, his sword tapping slightly on the ground, reminding Kira that it was there.

With a long sigh she left the cell and slipped into the hall. Another guard was awaiting her, and she couldn’t help but notice that he was an elf as well. A frown creased her brow, but she continued to walk forward, chains scraping against the floor with each step, the stone cold against her bare feet.

Passing the other cells she saw prisoners staring out at her, some with fear, some with wonder, and some with lust. They sat within their confines, staring out between iron bars, and in their eyes Kira saw damnation. These men and women were imprisoned for corruption by the Kazdruk. Cultists more than likely, but she couldn’t know for sure.

She pushed her gaze forward, not wanting to meet the stares of those truly damned, while she was merely accused.

The walk through the dungeon was dim, the halls lit only by a few torches, whose light struggled to reach the corners. The sound of her chains and the boots of her captors the only sound that reached her ears, until a woman, who had torn away at her rags, smashed herself against the bars. Blood seeped down from a gash on her forehead, smeared over the iron she clutched to. She grinned wickedly, bared breasts pushing out into the hall. Strange words flowed from her lips, words that Kira could not understand.

The lead guard punched her back, sending her toppling back into her cell, sputtering angrily as she lay upon the floor. Kira let out a long sigh, and simply kept walking. The woman was of the enemy she was sure, and felt it hard to find any sympathy for her.

Stepping out of the dungeon and into a small walled compound, she lifted her hands, the sun glaring after the dimness of the dungeon proper. The sounds of the city reached her now, as people went about their lives like nothing was amiss in the world. Kira envied their ignorance of the pain and death that awaited outside their walls. She thought again of her sister, fallen or enslaved in the Kazdruk camps to the south.

Three more guards joined them, carrying short spears close to their armoured forms, and formed a semi-circle behind her. Kira glanced at them, and only one was a human. A shiver slid up her spine, and fear pounded in her heart. Before they left the walls of the compound the manacles around her ankles were unlocked and set aside. The butt of a spear pushed into the small of her back, and she started marching through gates of iron bars and into the streets of Driftafay.

People from all walks of life stared at her as she was marched past in chains. She could smell their fear, unwashed bodies as more refugees streamed into the city and hygiene faltered in the face of such human waves. She hung her head low, seeing even here the pain caused by the Kazdruk invasion. Hopeless eyes watched her being marched past. Merchants, peasants, tradesmen, even a few whores, all stopped to stare. She saw a child with no shoes, the boy dressed in mere rags. He stared at her, reeking of fear, but there was hate in his eyes.

It hit her then. They thought she was corrupted, she thought she was the enemy, the story of the Wolfkin had faded so far into legend. The boy stopped low, and tossed a glob of mud from the side of the street. It struck Kira in the side of the head, matting her hair to her scalp. The thick mud slowly rolled down her head, spattering on her shoulder. She could do nothing by sigh and avoid the glares of those that watched. Angry shouts came from the crowds, and more mud, and moldy food was thrown at her, even a few rocks. They thought her the enemy.

The guards kept everyone away, but did nothing to stop the deluge of things thrown at her. Her head was knocked to the side as a fair sized rock cracked her in the temple. She felt her ears ringing, and a warm wet feeling crawling down to her cheek. Still she said nothing until finally she was being led up the stairs that led to the palace of Evermar. The crowds thinned out, until she was in the beautiful courtyard before the massive doors of the palace, surrounded by well dressed nobles in silk dresses and fine pressed tunics and breeches.

The dirt and grime were gone, replaced by a marble walkway that led to the doors. Two fountains were dug in on either side of the path, surrounded by gardens and hedges that spread out and curled around the entirety of the palace. Vibrant flowers of blue, violet, red, yellow, white, and so many other colours stood proud, as if a beacon of light against the darkness plaguing the world.

Any other occasion, Kira would have been breath taken with its beauty. Today she was much too terrified. She knew she was going to have to plead for her life in but a few moments.

The guards led her towards the large doors, where another two stood in brilliant silver armour, and finely tailored blue capes that flowed down from their shoulders. Perfectly formed halberds were clutched in their hands, and swords whose grips gleamed with a golden finished, sat at their hips in scabbards of fine leather and silver trim. They were both at rigid attention, the guards of Evermar, some of the finest soldiers in the entire Coalition; this Kira knew well.

They stared at Kira through the open eyes of their helmets, though blue silk cloths formed masks over the lower half of their face. One was steady and almost emotionless, the other though clearly showed hatred. They did not move until Kira was forced to a stop before the door. The Elven guard captain moved forward and pulled off his helmet.

“I, Captain Sunstor, bring forth the prisoner for the judgement of the council of ambassadors,” the man said, and now Kira had a name to go behind the blows earlier.

The two guards nodded slowly, in time with one another, and reached inwards, grasping the handles of the large doors, inlaid with golden vines to showcase the wealth of Driftafay, and pulled them open.

Kira was pushed again with the butt of the spear, through a short hallway of marble floor and dark painted walls, dotted with a few more large oak doors, until she stepped out into a large chamber, the roof domed above her, painted around the rim with all the heraldry of the Human clans and Elven houses. The rest was painted brilliant blue, with a spherical chandelier hanging from the centre, glowing with brilliant magic light from within. The floor was even more marble, and seats were curled around the room. Carved from fine wood, and covered in plush cushions of varying colours. In each sat the ambassadors from every single clan and house within the coalition.

These were the voices of Driftafay, the power of the Coalition, and Kira felt her blood running cold as so many looked down upon her. She looked back, seeing the guards who had escorted her in were all on one side of the door, out of the way, save Sunstor, who was beside her, sword in hand. On the other side were another four Evermar guards, and a fifth, dressed as them, but with no helmet. Her brown eyes simply watched Kira, her dark brown hair pulled back into a firm ponytail. Sarya, the captain of the Evermar guard. Kira swallowed, and looked all around. There were a few side doors leading out of the room, but no windows. She was in the belly of the palace.

“State your name for the council,” someone called, and when Kira looked towards the voice, she saw it was the ambassador from the Elven house of Winterstone. He tapped his fingers impatiently, and Kira cleared her throat.

“I am Kira, of Clan Cozlak. I-,” she said, and started to state her case when another spoke.

“She is the sister of Lillium,” the Cozlak ambassador said, and Kira stared at him. The bastard, living here in excess while his very own clan was running for their lives. But that her sister’s name had come up, and she was recognized gave Kira hope. Her sister was a hero.

“The very same who attacked Innisgar and burned it to the ground?” another called out.

“The same,” Wintersone growled and stared down at Kira, who felt her heart seizing and her mind whirling.

Lillium… attacked Innisgar? All the people there, those fleeing for their lives, and Lillium attacked? Reaching up and pinching her nose, Kira tried to wrap her mind around this information. It couldn’t be true, why would Lillium attack her own people?

“Look at her. She is changed, just as her sister has. She is corrupted,” someone shouted, pointing.

Was Lillium Wolfkin as well? Her mind swirled, she felt sick, lost, desperate.

“Captain Sarya. Please, execute this… corrupted sister of a traitor,” the Winterstone ambassador said, and Kira was devastated to see not one spoke out in her defense. Did not one of them know of the Wolfkin?

“The will of the council be done,” Sarya said, pulling her gorgeous sword free of its scabbard, and stepping forward. Kira’s heart pounded within her chest as she saw her doom coming closer. Then suddenly, she was calm. She glared at Sarya, feeling as if a beast within was awakening. She felt an urge, a pull.

“I. Am not. Kazdruk. I am Wolfkin,” she roared in defiance, and lashed out to the side, striking Sunstor’s face with her head. She felt his nose break, felt blood splash through her hair and down her own face. She grasped his sword, wrenching it from his fingers while he recovered from the blow.

“The Kazdruk are coming. You should find more friends, not enemies,” she shouted to the council, pulling at the chains binding her wrists together. Sarya had stopped her advance, and cautiously watched the woman, knowing she was dangerous. Sunstor shook his head and moved to lunge at Kira, but only received a sword through his chest.

Kira felt no sympathy as steel cleaved through flesh, puncturing his chest and ripping into his organs. He gasped, blood pouring from his mouth, and Ambassadors shouted in fear.

“We are allies Captain Sarya, we will see each other again soon,” she said, and took off towards one of the side doors, bashing through with her shoulder, bloodied sword in hand. The Evermar guards were chasing after her now. Their heavy boots pounded upon the fine floors of the side passages of the palace.

Kira was lost, she didn’t know where she was going. Her bare feet were quiet, but her chains rattled each time her body shifted. She shot past servants going about their day, earning a few screams, followed too closely behind when the guards barrelled past each surprised servant.

Then she saw it; glass, with daylight streaming through. She was in a hall now running along the exterior wall of the palace. With freedom in sight, she pushed herself harder, knowing that this was only the first step. She needed to find answers, and if what she heard was true… stop her sister.

“Lillium,” she whispered in pain, and leapt through the window. She felt glass tearing into her rags and flesh, saw it twinkling around her as she flew out into the air, felt the wind rushing over her as she started to descend. And realized as she fell that she was at the back of the palace, where the cliff loomed above Driftafay, and she was falling.

She was free, and the beast within her soul rose its head.

By: SinfulWolf

Unwrapping the long leather whip from around her waist, Yannifer gazed upon the bared flesh before her. The end of the whip landed on the floor with a dry slap as her tongue slowly rolled over her black painted lips, making them glisten softly in the torchlight of the throne room.

As her eyes ran over the power muscles hidden beneath the pale skin of the woman before her, she felt her pulse quicken, a heat rising between her thighs as she gripped the whip tight. Lashing out, the leather cracking against the woman’s back, the Elf slave was rewarded with a moan of pleasure that sent a shiver up her spine.

Long thin cuts streak across Lillium’s back, thin trickles of crimson curled downwards over the soft curve of her ass, dripping to her thighs glistening with her arousal. The powerful muscles beneath her skin did not tense as the whip slid across the floor before rising again and lashing out, earning another moan from the succubus’s dark lips. Her fingers curled around the top of the throne, knees settled upon the black cushions of the seat as Yannifer whipped her. Her eyes were gently closed as she savoured the exquisite pain, her flesh healing shortly after the whip opened it.

Licking her lips, Yannifer lashed out again, her stiff nipples brushing against the leather strap across her chest with each slight movement. Each crack giving her the reward of her mistress’s pleasure, which only made her all the more excited.

The door to the throne room opened, and sergeant Lorth stepped into the room, heavy boots thumping on the floor. His eyes locked onto the naked form of his mistress, kneeling upon the newly carved throne that had replaced the two of the previous rulers of the castle. Blackened wood shipped from the corrupted trees of the Tortured Sea had been carved into the seat of authority, the armrests shaped into eternally grinning skulls, the eyes slanted in menace. The back had been chiselled into wooden replicas of wings folded tightly inwards, topped with yet another skull. The old paintings had been torn down from the walls of the room, leaving behind dark red banners of the Kazdruk in their place, and obsidian statues of beautiful and naked women, bodies forever posed in seductive stances, were set in the corners.

Lillium’s eyes slowly slid open, and her tongue slid over her lips. She turned her gaze towards Lorth, who clacked his heels together and punched a fist to his chest. The succubus made no move to conceal her nudity, though she did raise her hand, two fingers extended, and Yannifer ceased her ministrations, wrapping the whip around her waist once more.

Curling in her seat, and slowly crossing her legs, she sat herself. Breasts rising and falling with each evenly drawn breath, she beckoned the Helot warrior closer. Lorth relaxed slightly as he stepped close to the throne, and stood before the succubus, the chainmail he wore rattling slightly with each movement he made.

“Did you come to ogle, or to make a report sergeant?” Lillium said, her lips curling upwards in a smirk.

“Both. The slave pits in the town square are complete and we await further instructions. Mistress Aeltha has also sent a gift; it appears to be a mirror. The messengers wished to inform you that you are to use it right away,” Lorth said with a gentle shrug.

Lillium pursed her lips as she thought for a moment before glancing towards the door that led up a spiral staircase to the top most tower of the castle, where the king and queen had once slept soundly and sure of their rule.

“Have them bring it to my chambers. As for the slaves, begin tearing down the old shops and homes for barracks. Select the most subservient to begin work on cutting wood and getting the farms up and running again, and to work the brothel. Those resisting can build under the lash… except the two nuns, they are yours to keep,” Lillium said, and Lorth grinned, saluting with fist to chest once again.

“By your will mistress,” he said and turned, starting to walk away, before Lillium called him to a halt. Stopping mid stride and turning, a look of confusion upon his face, deepening as Lillium gestured to Yannifer.

“The rank of sergeant is much too low for one of your talents, captain,” Lillium said, even as Yannifer stepped forward, holding out a black sash of heavy wool to the Helot, who took it gently in hand. For a moment he stared in disbelief, for not one of his kind had ever been given such responsibility and praise before in his lifetime.

“Find a new sergeant, find new recruits, make me proud Lorth,” Lillium said as the man slipped the sash over one shoulder, carefully pressing it across his chest.

With one final salute, he left the room, gently playing with the symbol of leadership that had not been given to a Helot in over five hundred years. He felt proud, that there might be a future for his kin after all. Above all, he knew he would burn the entire world for the woman who had given him the respect he had never seen all his long years.

><>< 

Mia cowered in the corner of the room, silently whispering prayers to herself, but no answers came to her; Oan was ashamed of her, for how she had so quickly abandoned her sisters and pushed her face between the legs of the unholy slut that had stormed their church.

The nun did not even know what had happened to her sisters after that day. They had been dragged away in chains, their hands bound, tatters of their habits scarcely clinging to their bodies, hiding nothing, as they were forced to march with all the other slaves taken that day.

Except Mia.

Mia was taken by the succubus herself, and now here she was in Lillium’s personal chambers, her habit tailored into a mockery of itself. A long slit up to her hips on either side showed her legs, long and lean from all the work she had done in and around the church, and the front had been cut wide and open to show her pert breasts. Her arms covered the cleavage now, even as she tried to whisper her prayers, ashamed of how she had been forced to dress, ashamed of how she had abandoned her sisters and given in to such wanton lewd behaviour only to save herself.

The room was dark, with only a few candles on tall metal sticks in the corner, flickering with an unearthly blue light. Despite the wind that came in through the window that made the flames flutter and flicker, she had not once seen them go out in her entire week in this room. The bed was large, covered in rich sheets of black satin, stained in spots by Lillium’s nightly activities, of which Mia always had to watch if it was not her forced to dive between her legs. She had the choice every night to receive such attentions in return, but always she declined. The nun was ashamed to admit to herself that each time became more difficult as the lust grew thick in the room and threatened to overtake her mind.

A large dresser of polished burned oak stood in the corner, holding the many dresses and garb of the succubus. A stand beside the bed held her armour, which Mia had to clean every day under threat of having her virginity taken against her will. The black metal gleamed, not a spot of blood to be found on it from the battle which now seemed a lifetime ago. A small rack by the foot of the armour would hold Lillium’s blade whenever she settled for the night, and if not for her vows, Mia would have taken it, and plunged it deep into the whore’s heart. But she had heard the tales of what happened in Innisgar, and knew it would not be enough.

Lastly was a tall mirror, slightly rounded top and bottom, the metal holding the glass in place twisted and spiked in a fashion only demons could create. It had been put in here but an hour before, and Mia had shivered as the two demons who delivered it looked upon her with a hunger that was not for whatever food these beasts consumed. They had strode in here, naked and rippling with muscle, large breasts upon their chests and massive cocks swinging between their thighs that had hardened upon seeing the nun whimpering in the corner. They did not touch her when they left, their beastly faces twisted in some fashion of a grin, made more horrible by their lack of lips and cheeks, with razor fangs within.

The last Mia saw of them was their serpentine tails, spikes lining the lengths. She had been glad to see them go, and was curious of the mirror they left in their wake. Its polished surface showed her clearly, and seeing the whorish outfit she had been made to wear, she scrambled once more to her corner, ignoring the hints of green light emerging from the glass.

Then came the clicking of bone pointed heels upon stone, a sound Mia had come to recognize very well these past few days. Lillium entered the room with her unholy grace, clad in a black backless dress, the opening dipping low enough to show the cleft of her ass, and the front parted to scarcely hold her breasts from the view of anyone who set eyes upon her, dipping just past her navel. The skirt hugged her hips, but still she seemed to glide with a sway that would stir the blood. Mia could even feel its affect upon her, and once more found herself struggling to retain her vows. This woman was the embodiment of temptation.

 The succubus warrior set her eyes briefly upon her armour, and the curl of her painted lips caused Mia to let out a sigh of relief.

“Well done sister,” Lillium purred, and while her entire time in the nunnery the word sister had carried a sense of hope and belonging for Mia, this temptress made it sound twisted, erotic, and unholy.

She said nothing else though, and turned to the mirror. Putting her hand carefully upon the surface, Mia couldn’t help but watch in wonder as green light gathered in its centre, obscuring the picture of the gorgeous woman standing before it. They swirled and pulsed, and Mia bit her lip, fearful and entranced all at once.

A hole opened in the centre of the mirror, shimmering blackness that soon faded away to show a red skinned demoness surrounded by candlelight which made her horns shimmer slightly.

“Mistress Aeltha, you wished to speak with me? I suspected you might come in person,” Lillium said to the woman on the other side of the mirror. Mia was enthralled, never before had she seen such magic.

“I am in Yuldasha’s tower at the moment, in the Tortured Sea. My talents are needed here for the moment, while you my champion, spread my will in your campaign. I have heard that you’ve taken Volgras,” Aeltha said in a tone that hovered between harsh and coddling, and while Mia was confused by it, it seemed to relax the succubus that had taken her.

“It is a good staging ground. Defensible, many routes into the interior of the continent,” Lillium replied.

“And so you’ve made yourself mistress of the castle. Once a mere warrior on the losing side, now baroness of the Kazdruk. I knew I had chosen well my dear,” Aeltha said with pride and a wicked smile.

Before Lillium could anything in thanks to her given title, the sorceress continued, brushing aside the opening conversation as if unimportant.

“Now tell me of Innisgar.”

“Fallen, its citizens put to the sword or enslaved. They have all been taken here, to Volgras. A few select for my personal pleasure, and one for your own experiments,” Lillium said, and stepped to the side.

Mia suddenly noticed that this Aeltha was now starring directly at her. For a moment she could only stare back with wide eyes, before finally averting her gaze and trying not to look upon the power she could see even through the magical mirror.

“Excellent. Enjoy your rule for the moment Lillium, I will have new instructions for you within the fortnight,” she said after a few moments of inspecting Mia. The nun had never felt so naked before in her life, never so exposed after those eyes peered into her soul, and found whatever they had been searching for.

“Of course mistress,” Lillium said with the slightest of bows.

As the magic portal closed, and Mia was left once more alone with her captor, she shuddered in fear. The succubus looked over at her, and merely grinned.

><>< 

Dangling from the wall, the manacles clamped around his wrists digging into his flesh, the cold air of the dungeons whisking across his naked flesh, Ian groaned from his sleep wrought on by pure exhaustion. Trickles of blood had run down his forearm and dried, and his arms ached from holding him up for so long. His feet had been chained tightly to the wall, just inches from the ground, preventing him from properly relaxing. A woman, clad in nothing more than a loincloth and a leather collar around her neck, came by twice a day to feed him a bitter tasting gruel.

Ian had recognized her from Innisgar, but he did not know her. She spoke not a word to him as she pushed the spoon into his mouth, and he could not muster the energy to speak to her in turn. She always held pity in her eyes when she came to him, smelling of sex, once even with a spot of cum rolling over her breast and cheek that she seemed not to notice, or if she did, not to care.

As the pain in his limbs pulled him from sleep, he heard the even sound of clicks coming down the hallway outside. He looked wearily upon the doorway, fear clutching at his gut; the woman who fed him was always so quiet in her sandaled feet, this was someone else.

With weary eyes he watched as the door swung open, and Lillium strolled in calmly, shutting the door behind herself. Once more, Ian stared in shock at the former champion, the sexuality that radiated from her form, her movements pure sensuality, the wings tucked firmly against her back, the claws tipping her fingers, and the source of the clicking: the sharp bones that jutted down from her heels.

Her lips were curled upwards in a smirk somewhere between cruel and seductive. As she walked to his side, his eyes followed her, trailing over all that was at once familiar and alien. The sway of her hips, the slight bounce of her breasts within the tight confines of her dress. Despite himself, heated memories of the pair of them in the back of the blacksmith rolled across his mind. The memory of her lips, the taste of her skin, the warmth of her cunt.

The succubus said nothing as she came ever closer, moving with agonizing slowness, letting him relive those memories. He stared in a mixture of arousal and revulsion, his cock hardening and standing straight before him, even as the image in his mind of his lover shifted to that of the demonic creature before him.

Leaning down, Lillium sniffed at his naked body, smelling his skin, her claws running along his sides. She stopped at his ear, he could feel her warm breath upon his flesh, could smell the blood, and cum that had passed her lips recently. When her tongue slithered out, running over his jaw and then his ear, he couldn’t help but shiver, though he knew not what emotion caused it.

“I can sense her on you Ian. Tell me, did you even wait for me to get to the battlefield before you fucked my sister? Did she even know me and you were lovers Ian?” she said, in a tone somewhere between purr and hiss.

The words made his back stiffen, fear once more sliding its fingers across his brain, scraping along his spine. He did not say a word, truly afraid of what this woman he had once trusted with all his soul would do to him.

She snapped her jaws inches from his face, giving him a peak of the glimmering fangs behind the glistening black gates of her lips. He wanted to scream, wanted to kiss her, wanted to grovel and apologize, wanted to stab her in her twisted black heart.

Her fingers ran down his chest, a claw gently sliding over a nipple, making him hiss in fearful anticipation. They pointed tips ran down his stomach, ghosting along his skin, and despite all the pain in his limbs, he could not deny how good the sensation felt. Next she ran a claw along the underside of his cock, stopping at the head, smiling with the points of her fangs showing, pressing gently into her lower lip. Ian felt his cock swell further, rising upwards, followed by the downward slide of that teasing claw.

“You traitorous bitch,” Ian said with a raspy voice, unable to raise the energy to yell and spit in her face.

She grabbed his balls, hard, and he groaned in pain, until she stopped and began to gently caress them.

“I am not the one who fucked the sister of my lover, without knowing her fate. Nor am I the one that stood idly by and let demons destroy the town I called home. Nor was I the one to cowardly to march off to fight. You, Ian, are the true traitor. Humanity is done, whether by the Kazdruk or the Elves. I simply chose the path that would let us live on,” she hissed, each word a stab to his heart.

“Your, sister didn’t know,” Ian said, hanging his head in shame as Lillium toyed with his cock.

“Good boy,” she said, patting his cheek, before getting to her feet. “We’ll have another chat soon enough. Then you will get a choice: enslavement, or death.”

Without another word Lillium left the room and shut the door quietly. Ian sagged his head in shame, listening to her heels click on the stones as the succubus walked away. Each of her words was a barb in his soul, and he wondered, which path would he truly prefer?

><>< 

The Baroness of Volgras smiled as she left the dungeons. Ian had believed her jealousy, and that amused her. She made her way towards the old chambers of the handmaidens, at the foot of the stairs leading to her personal chambers, thinking about what she truly intended to do to Ian. While it was fun to play with him for the moment, eventually she would need to make some kind of final decision.

She pushed the thoughts from her mind as she arrived at her destination. She raised her hand and knocked on the simply oak door. While those that dwelled within were her personal concubines that she could do with what she wished, Lillium preferred that they trusted her. The door opened and Yannifer offered a smile as she stepped out.

“She’s all yours mistress,” the elf purred, stepping away to leave the succubus alone with Rania.

The room was fairly simply, not yet garnished as her own was. A trio of beds, and dressers adorned the walls, with a few small mirrors for the inhabitants to view themselves. Rania sat on the edge of a bed, eyes downcast, fear and sorrow plain in her features. She did not look up as Lillium sat herself beside the woman.

“My husband is gone. Isn’t he?” she asked without shifting her gaze, though neither did she slide away from the succubus pressed against her.

“Yes. He had a quick death. He would not turn,” Lillium said, putting her hand on the woman’s thigh gently, comforting.

“Yet you did,” Rania said accusingly, and Lillium laughed, before dipping her fingers into her own cleavage and pulling out a small vial. The substance within with thick and black, streaked with a vibrant purple; a gift from Aeltha.

“Such sorrow Rania. I could ease your heart. End your suffering,” Lillium said, and held out the vial.

The woman finally looked up and looked at the offering for a moment. She said nothing as she stared, before finally reaching out and taking it. As she held it before her Lillium saw for the first time since she’d come here, some life in her eyes.

“No more pain? Will I become like you?” she asked fearfully.

“No. You will not,” Lillium assured her, and Rania slowly nodded, uncorking the vial. She had nothing left to lose, why not simply end it? She quickly drank it down, the liquid within pouring past her lips and down her throat.

Lillium watched in fascination, for surely Aeltha would want to know what happened next. For a moment, nothing happened, and Rania simply looked confused. Then a gasp slipped from her lips, and her hand went to her belly. Her breathing starting coming faster, her nipples pushing against the fabric of her dress. Lillium licked her lips at the sight, as dark veins spread upwards from under the woman’s dress.

Rania looked at the succubus, her expression unreadable, as the black reached her eyes, and the once vibrant blue turned violet. Her nostrils flared, and her tongue slipped from her mouth and ran over her lips. Soon enough, the veins faded from view, and Rania got to her feet, nearly tearing the dress from her body.

“This almost takes the fun out of it…,” Lillium muttered to herself as shreds of fabric scattered around the room, and the petite young woman stood naked before her, thighs already glistening with juices. Her eyes were ablaze with desire, and she turned to Lillium, and jumped upon the succubus, pining her to the bed.

“You…,” she started, careful with the dress, pulling it free from Lillium’s body, uncovering her pale skin, the dark nipples standing erect. As the dress fell to the floor, Rania dipped her head low, wrapping her lips around the inviting nubs, groaning as her tongue slowly ran over them in turn, her hands exploring the body of the woman who had done this to her.

Lillium did not respond to the self-interrupted question, instead groaning softly as tongue and lips played along her breasts, and fingers trailed downwards, seeking Lillium’s cunt. Rania was hungry, there was no teasing, only a quick thrust of fingers up into the succubus’s slick pussy, making Lillium groan in desire. Juices streamed over Rania’s hand and down her forearm, and she did not stop her thrusts, pushing up inside the succubus while nipping and licking at her tits.

“Good girl,” Lillium groaned, leaning her head back upon the bed as Rania gave in to all her primal desires. She wasn’t sure what that vial had done exactly, she would have to ask Aeltha next time. For the moment, she intended to simply reap the rewards. Her claws ran softly over Rania’s skin, feeling her curves, her flesh so soft beneath her touch. It made the woman groan in pleasure, as she wrapped her legs around one of the succubus’s own, and began to grind her slick cunt into Lillium’s thigh.

With ease, Lillium grasped Rania’s shoulders, and pushed her onto her back, and quickly mounted her. Looking up at the succubus, Rania let out a long moan as Lillium’s tongue slid from beneath her breast, and curved up to her nipple before flicking over the bud, all while pinning her down by her wrists. After she repeated the action on the other side, grinding softly into the woman’s lap, she looked down into Rania’s eyes.

“Welcome to my court, concubine,” the succubus purred hungrily, letting the tip of a wing dip down behind her, and prod at the woman’s entrance. Rania moaned in delight, her legs parting, and Lillium grinned as she thought of her last words to Julius, before peeling back her lips, baring her fangs.

“You’re mine,” she snarled, and lunged down towards Rania’s neck, sinking her fangs into the woman’s flesh, feeling the gush of blood into her mouth and across her tongue, breasts pushing firmly into her concubine’s.

“Yes mistress!” Rania shouted with a moan.

By: SinfulWolf

Walking to the well in the centre of Innisgar, Ian drew up a full bucket of water. Drinking deeply from the wooden vessel, he doused what was left over his head, washing away the sweat and grime in his hair and on his skin. It had been a long morning, and already his arms were sore, and his shirt stuck to his back.

Shaking his head, Ian sat on the edge of the well and rested for just a moment before he had to head back into the hot confines of his blacksmith. Leaning back and basking in this moment of calm, he noticed the gates opening, and a single man in light leather armour come rushing in, clutching at his arm.

Ian immediately sat up as he saw the soldier, one of the scouts of the Innisgar militia, and the blood coursing out from under his fingers, dripping in a trail behind him. Someone shouted for the commander, who came bursting out of his personal quarters without bothering to throw on a shirt, shaving cream still smeared over half his face.

A frown creasing his brow, Ian rose to his feet, and moved closer, trying to hear what the scout was saying that made the commander’s face turn the colour of ash. The commander turned, the conversation over before Ian could eavesdrop, and looked about to say something, when a haunting long call from a horn sounded out from the forests surrounding the town.

Ian felt his blood run cold at the long note, and knew almost instinctively that the sound he was hearing, was that of a demonic war horn.

“To the walls!” the commander shouted out, and immediately there was a flurry of activity.

Sergeants ordered troops about as those off duty threw on armour and picked up weapons as quickly as they could, moving towards the ramparts of the wooden palisade that surrounded Innisgar. Villagers were screaming in abject terror, and some of the soldiers began urging them back into their homes where it would be safest.

“Ian what’s happening?” Rania said, clutching at her dress until her knuckles were white. Ian spun when he heard her voice, not knowing she had been standing there.

“Get to the blacksmith and hide. They’re coming,” he urged her, feeling his heart twinge as he saw the look of terror across her face. She didn’t ask who he meant, or even fight his suggestion. She simply turned and ran as fast as she could across the courtyard towards the blacksmith, slamming the door behind her.

A loud roar sounded from beyond the wall. There must have been at least a hundred of them out there, and archers upon the walls started to loose their arrows out towards the enemy. Ian watched, entranced by the opening salvos of the battle, the calm movements and actions of the soldiers. There was hope after all.

Then the first soldier fell.

There was no scream as he toppled from the rampart, clutching at the arrow burrowed into his neck, blood gushing out from around the shaft as his body smacked hard onto the ground. Ian rushed over to him, kneeling beside him, trying to stifle the flow of crimson. The man died in his arms as a scream of agony sounded above him.

A great crash sounded from the gate, and Ian looked up to see it starting to buckle. They had a ram at the gates, they were going to get through. He trembled upon his knees, until a scream from the north wall grasped his attention.

A gorgeous and terrible woman was upon the walls, large wings spread out behind her in her fine black armour, blood already spattered across her face and cleavage as she dropped the head of her kill to the ground.

Getting numbly to his feet Ian stared at the succubus as demonic soldiers climbed onto the wall beside her. She butchered the soldiers on the wall with quick skilled slashes of her blade, before she looked across the courtyard to where Ian stood. The blacksmith locked gazes with her, and felt his heart drop.

“No, Gods no,” he whimpered, almost in a sob, and even from this distance, he could see Lillium’s evil smirk.

><>< 

The horn called out, and the attack had begun. Lillium knew her soldiers would do their jobs well though she could not see them on the other side of the town. Sergeant Lorth led those soldiers, and he was skilled, competent, and intelligent. He would get the gates down, and provide enough distraction for Lillium and ten other Helots to get in through the side.

As the sounds of battle reached her ears, she burst out from the tree line and rushed towards the wall. One of the guards turned from watching the battle unfold and spotted her as her wings spread out behind her. The young man’s eyes went wide with fear as the succubus jumped up into the air, and beat down with her wings, lifting her upwards, landing atop the wall before the terrified soldier.

A scream of fear came from beside her as she grasped the militia man’s head, and swung her sword in a broad arc, neatly severing skull from shoulders in a spurt of deliciously hot blood that splashed across her skin. A tingle ran through her body as she felt droplets of crimson rolling down between her breasts while the headless corpse fell from the ramparts leaving her holding her grisly trophy by the tuft of hair.

Helots began to clamber up beside her as she looked across Innisgar, seeing the fear choked villagers fleeing into their homes, desperate to get away. Dropping the head to bounce across the platform beneath her feet, she quickly turned and lashed out at the other few soldiers left to defend this part of the wall, cutting them down in sprays of blood. Savouring the kills, she looked towards the western gate, and saw one man standing with bloodied hands. She saw his lips move as she met his eyes, and she smirked. Ian’s time would come soon enough.

As she began to make her way along the ramparts, the blacksmith ran, almost in a stumble towards a low building with a thick chimney pouring smoke into the sky. She would find him later, for now, she had a battle to win.

The front gates smashed open in a shower of splinters, the wooden doors swinging wide open for the Helots to charge through with their swords and shields. Rushing inside they began to hack down upon the defenders, spilling their blood. Lillium jumped down from the walls, landing gracefully on her heeled boots, and strode into the courtyard. A man with a half shaven face, and hastily donned armour shouted orders to soldiers, trying to establish a rally within the centre of the town.

“Come hero, end this,” Lillium yelled out to him, and the militia commander turned to her. There was no fear on his face, only determination. Lillium liked him, a brave man, a soldier to his core; she would give him a quick death.

Behind her, helots lit torches, and began setting flames to the homes of the town, while Lillium and the commander approached one another with drawn swords. He bled from a cut on the side of his head, but he ignored it as he lunged for the succubus once she was close enough. There would be no traded words here, just one warrior against another. It excited the succubus as she deflected the lunge and swung towards the man’s neck.

The man blocked, the ring of steel upon steel sounding out in the centre of the courtyard as town militia clashed with demonic helots around them. Steel plunged into flesh, and blood flowed like rivers while smoke poured into the sky above. Screams sounded shrilly through the town as homes burned, and the people who hid were dragged from their homes, shackles and iron collars slapped upon them.

The battle was not even finished and already the first slaves were being dragged out through the ruined gates, while commander fought commander. Succubus against man as they danced their deadly ballet of clashing steel.

A human archer, limping from a open wound across his thigh, pushed away the dead Helot that had deliver the spear thrust. Pulling an arrow from his quiver, he glanced once at the other approaching demons, with their square shields and notched swords as they marched towards him, blood glinting off their armour under sunlight and crackling fires that spread amongst the town. The archer let his eyes trail away from them to his commander, and the gorgeous woman he fought against. Her terrible beauty sent shiver’s up his spine, and a stirring in his loins. She, was dangerous.

Drawing his bow back, he lined up upon her, waiting for the perfect shot while the rest of her soldiers advanced upon him. He just needed to remove her, and he let his finger release the bowstring.

Lillium felt the arrow hit her in the chest, plunging into her right breast, missing the metal of her corseted cuirass. As the steel point drove through her flesh, the commander smirked, looking about to strike, until he heard the moan slip from his opponent’s black lips.

As she straightened from the impact, her own dark blood trickling from the wound in her chest, the succubus grinned upon the commander, who yelled out in fear and fury as he rushed towards her. He brought his sword down again and again while an ache grew in his wrist and forearm. Lillium didn’t back away as she deflected each strike perfectly, until she slipped away and lopped off his hand at the wrist.

The commander screamed in agony as he clutched at the bleeding stump, trying to stifle the blood flow, the jagged ends of his bones jabbing into his remaining palm. With a single hand, Lillium forced the aging man to his knees, and he looked up at her.

“I’ll give you nothing bitch,” he growled, before spitting at her. The succubus let out a sigh, and looked up. She could not see the man who shot her, presumably he was dead, or he had run. Reaching up to the arrow in her flesh, she grasped the shaft firmly and began to pull. The commander stared, as she moaned hungrily while she pulled the projectile from her breast, tearing through her until she pulled it free. Blood and strings of tissue hung from the tip as she tossed the arrow to the ground, and the hole it left in its wake sealed over, leaving only the blood smeared across her pale skin.

Trailing around behind the man before her, the claws of her gauntlets trailing along his cheek, she stopped behind him.

“No. You wouldn’t, but you have fought well, honourably. So I give you this one gift,” she said, before kneeling down behind him. He felt her hand running down his side, the swell of her breasts against his back, before her tongue softly touched his ear, and her lips grazed against his flesh.

“A quick death for you, and those under your command,” Lillium purred softly, before nipping gently at his ear. She rose to her feet, hand resting on his shoulder as she set the tip of her blade against the back of his neck.

The commander bent his head forward, and whispered a prayer to Oan. When he fell silent, he placed his hands upon his knees, and Lillium plunged her sword downwards.

><>< 

A log fell within the fire, sending up a shower of sparks into the crisp air. The sun was very nearly on the horizon, just about to vanish before the coming of the moon and the revelation of the stars, and so Kira and the band guiding her had stopped for the night.

The four of them sat around the fire, the two archers cooking meat while the man who had spoken to her the day before gently blew into a flute, causing soft music to curl through the clearing where they had set up camp for the night.

Kira idly poked at the fire with a stick, her tail idly flicking behind her, ignoring the gazes of the two archers, before turning to face the flute player.

“Thaden. You seem to be taking the death of your friends rather well,” she said, trying to find some common ground with this man.

The rogue grinned playfully, blowing a few more soft notes before letting the flute drop from his lips. He looked over the wolf like woman beside him, and slid his flute into the small bag that hung from his hip.

“We were never truly friends. Just compatriots who were forced from home for one reason or another, and decided to carve out some semblance of life by stealing and murdering. I have never had much use for the law, and while not everyone deserves what we did, I’m sure some did,” Thaden said with a shrug before leaning back, folding his arms behind his head.

“That man would have killed me if it meant a good profit. As it stood, keeping me around made him more coin. What he would spend it on, I don’t know, but damn if the stuff didn’t look good in chests back at our camp, or tucked into the bosom of a busty whore before she sat on our faces,” he said with a grin, and Kira shook her head.

“Class act,” she muttered.

“No, but it’s fun. And a whore has to make money more than any noble,” Thaden replied with a shrug.

“So your a hero, against the oppression of the nobility,” Kira said dryly, and let out a short snort of laughter, tossing her stick into the fire while her eyes met the two men across the flames from her. They averted their gazes, and looked down into the wooden bowls that they ate from.

“I’m sure to some I am, but mostly I’m just a horny man, whose good with a flute and his cock, and I like money and booze and cunt,” he said, pulling a gold coin from his purse, rolling it across his knuckles.

“Though, I am a good friend to those I count among my friends, and as much as it may grieve my companions, you are dangerously close to becoming my friend. I like you wolf girl. You’re sexy, dangerous, and focused. I must say I appreciate tales of heroic deeds, but I have to warn you against your course of action,” the rogue said, and his tone grew serious.

“You’re not going to dissuade me. I need to get to Driftafay,” she said.

“And find the Elves to get a home for your people under their protection. I know, and truly it is the best for your people… but not for you. You may be beautiful, but the elves will look upon you as a danger to them. Their magic cannot create warriors born of nature, and their temples will look upon you as blasphemy. A joining of nature and the savagery of man. To them, such a union cannot exist. You will save your people, but damn yourself,” Thaden said.

“Then it will be worth everything,” Kira said, ignoring the two men across from her as they finished their meals, and wandered off to their individual tents, leaving Thaden and her alone by the fire.

“I do envy you Kira. I sometimes wish my heart were so noble that I could be such a character that they sing of in songs and hopeless men speak of in their mugs to bring some kind of light to their dreary lives. But I am not… though I could make such a thing of you,” he said, and Kira laughed.

“I can picture it now. The ever beautiful Kira the Wolfkin, leading her people to a bright future despite the end that awaits herself. Noble, kind of heart, and deadly in battle. She would be a beacon of light to those who dread the invading Kazdruk… and you will be,”  Thaden laughed gently, then glanced towards his tent.

“But, we have a long way to go until Driftafay, and I intend to get some sleep before waking up at the ogreish hour needed to make decent time.

Kira watched him walk towards his small tent and duck within, even as she felt an animalistic stirring between her legs. She frowned, forcing her eyes away from Thaden’s tent to glance into the fire. For the first time since leaving Innisgar, she felt fear.

><>< 

Lillium grinned as she licked blood from the claws of her gauntlet, all while leaning against the holy altar of Innisgar’s church. Save her boots and gauntlets, her armour was neatly placed upon the altar, resting in the blood of the high priest of the town, whose body was slumped unceremoniously still clutching his holy book on the other side.

Soft moans slipped from the succubus’s lips, as her free hand pushed the head of one of the Oan nuns to her cunt. The young woman, still a virgin no doubt, timidly ran her tongue over Lillium’s entrance and upwards to her clit, while the succubus ground against her inexperienced mouth.

“Living with no one but women, I thought you’d be much better at this. Perhaps I should just give you to my troops after all,” Lillium growled hungrily, earning a squeal of fear from the nun. The woman’s arms launched up, grasping at the demon’s ass and pressed her face tighter between the succubus’s thighs. Her tongue darted desperately between Lillium’s nether lips, drawing forth hungry moans despite her lack of skill.

“Good girl,” Lillium purred, easing the pressure on the nun’s head, and pulled back the hood of her habit, and began to stroke her dark brown hair, letting the woman’s own fear and desperation keep her tongue and lips working.

The succubus let her fingers trail through the woman’s locks as she looked up around the church. Blood was spattered all across the pews, and corpses were sprawled amongst the pews; those last few who had sought sanctuary in the house of their God. When Lillium had kicked down the doors and her helots went to work, she had walked through the slaughter and butchered the priest before finding the three nuns cowering in the corner.

Now one was between her legs, another pressed against the wall, her habit torn away so only a few shreds hung off one shoulder as a helot ravaged her from behind. Her hands scratched at the wall, breasts rubbing against the stone walls beneath the shattered pane of stained glass as she grunted while a cock plunged into her ass again and again.

The last of the nuns was on her hands and knees, her eyes locked on her sister who had willingly crawled to Lillium to escape the savagery of the helots. Her habit was torn away from the waist, and another of the demonic soldiers fucked her from behind, grunting in pleasure as he slid within her, but she made not a sound, glaring at her sister’s betrayal.

Lillium grinned at the sight, and bit her lip, putting on a show for the angry nun upon all fours.

One of the doors fell from its hinges as sergeant Lorth walked into the church. His eyes swept over the scene quickly as he moved towards Lillium, and the succubus smirked at the sight of glistening juices around his maw.

“Mistress. The slaves are all rounded up and in chains. We are ready to depart on your word,” he reported with a low bow.

“Excellent. And of the two I specified?” she asked quizzically.

“The ones called Ian, and Rania have been separated, and are already being delivered to the dungeons as you commanded mistress,” he reported, and Lillium nodded, before forcing the nun between her legs away from her cunt, and dragged her to her feet.

The succubus hungrily kissed the nun, whose eyes went wide in surprise as the demon’s tongue slithered between her lips, while Lillium groaned at the taste of her own flavour. When she broke the kiss, she slapped the nun’s ass.

“And you my pet, are coming with me,” she purred, her fingers curling tightly in her flesh. The nun’s cheeks burned deep red, and she could not bring herself to look upon her sisters.

“As for the other two… do with them what you will sergeant,” Lillium said, indicating the other two.

Lorth grinned hungrily, punching a fist to his chest.

“Happily mistress.”