Bloody Consummation

Note: all characters in the following story are, while completely fictional, of the legal age of consent. Also, I know, that last line is over-the-top corny, but it felt obligatory.

*

There was celebration in the free city of Siracoza. It was five years to the day since it, in league with several other, now free, cities, had succeeded from the empire of Rus. Their master and champion, still using her former title of Countess for the time being, had chosen the anniversary of that great triumph to hold her wedding ceremony.

While she ruled with an iron fist, as the expression goes, Countess Illyana Rasputin could be generous. After all, for a mage who had been an active combatant in the great war over eighty years past, such ephemera as wealth meant little enough. Power was her real concern. Wealth was only one means of gaining it. This partnership would be another.

The day was treated as an unofficial holiday. Workers were excused from their labors, gathering with their families in the central park, which the Countess had ordered transformed into a festival grounds. Exotic foods had been brought in from other cities and even as far as the Kingdom of Lesanne to the West and the elvish Ilyev Empire to the East. There was much drinking and revelry.

As regarded their new Count, (or King or President or what-have-you, if the Countess should decide to amend Siracoza's current classification as 'free city' and take a new title), the people generally approved. The word was that he was a noble himself and hailed from one of the principalities to the Northwest. Ellegarde or Czernoval. Those who hadn't seen him arrive weeks earlier knew someone who knew someone who had.

Riding at the head of an entourage on a monstrous black mare, the Countess' suitor, Kellish Ny, had cut an impressive figure. Having disdained unnecessary regalia, he had worn an exquisitely crafted matching set of pauldrons, bracers and breastplate and fine, but simple black clothing. Perhaps more memorable than the armor were his demeanor and bearing. Long black hair framed a face set in a cold, impassive cast. He had not waved or nodded, but only briefly scanned those citizens he had passed, as if they were part of the scenery. His pale blue eyes were later described as everything from piercing to haunting.

Popular sentiment held that it would take such a man to survive courting the Countess. Beautiful as she was, there wasn't a man in Siracoza grown past the foolish bravado of his teens who would willingly trade places with Kellish.

The actual wedding ceremony was born witness to by a relatively small audience. In accordance with Illyana's wishes, it was carried out not in any temple or church, but in the cities one sprawling cemetery. This surprised no-one much.

The traditional words were intoned with all solemnity by a man called Bishop. Once a priest, Bishop had many years before fled his native lands to escape persecution and likely execution on charges of practicing magic. (Since the great war, magic was frowned upon, if not outlawed, by most governments, not to mention religious sects) In his travels, Bishop chanced to meet Illyana's highest adviser, who saw great potential in him. He had since quickly risen to a position amongst her high council.

Also in attendance were the rest of Countess Rasputin's so called 'Copper Council.' The moniker came from the unique copper masks worn by the six members. All wore some variation of a black robe. This aspect was more by choice, partly in imitation of the first member and partly in keeping with feeding their perceived mystique.

The first among them was one called Niger Lupus. Tall and lean beneath his robes, it was common knowledge that he had been trained as an assassin once upon a time. His mask was shaped to resemble the face of a wolf, but this was not the true origin of his assumed name. Lupus, a shapeshifter, had been given into the hands of Illyana's father when both she and Lupus were young. They had been like brother and sister. While Illyana had studied magic, Lupus had been trained as a killer. In those days his favorite form, aside from his usual human one, was that of a black wolf.

Chronologically, Bishop was the second to don a copper mask. His was a shallow convex wedge with a few horizontal slits down either plane. He took his place with Lupus as a high adviser shortly after the great war in which Illyana lost her father. He continued to study magic, as well as playing adviser. Speaking and reading several dead languages, he also oversaw research at Illyana's request, especially into secrets of a magic or occult nature.

Third, and not much later, came an ancient crone from the far East who had only ever been known as 'Grandmother Craw.' She was also invoked by the more familiar 'Granny Craw', by parents warning their children to behave. Shortest of the Copper Council and hunchbacked, the hood of her robe drooped down past the point on her mask behind which her eyes must rest. For this reason it was assumed that she was physically blind, and saw only by means of her dark sorcery. What was visible of her false face was a crude representation of a wicked rictus full of huge triangular teeth, like an abstract expression of madness. It was rumored that she was older than Illyana herself.

Lucianna Korvinus, (another assumed name), came many years after Grandmother Craw. Once he had heard rumors of a young elf girl with a natural affinity for magic who was living on the fringe of the city, it took no time for Lupus to find her and bring her into the fold. While she did not have the cold-hearted immorality of the others, her magical ability grew by leaps under the tutelage of Bishop and Illyana herself. In her free time, Lucianna was once something of an amateur bird watcher. Hence her assumed name, as well as the distinct, exaggerated beak sloping out from her mask.

The fifth and sixth members were both inducted during the year Siracoza won free of Rus. Nex, a young half elf, had been sold into slavery as a child. After freeing herself at the age of twelve through deceit and murder she was determined never again to find herself at the mercy of another. Employing a great deal of relentless tenaciy she managed to secure training from a retired duelist.

Later, during the fighting between the Sepratists and Rus, Nex was refused entry into the military. Instead she gathered a ragtag band of refugees and began a campaign of guerrilla warfare against the Rus. With an uncanny instinct for tactics and strategy, her actions soon earned her unit a certain notoriety. After the war, when priorities permitted, Lupus arranged to have the young warrioress brought to Illyana's palatial stronghold. Grandmother Craw in particular, finding Nex's mercilessness and violent tendencies amusing, wholeheartedly endorsed her addition to the Council.

The Sixth and most recently joined member was also a combatant during the revolution of the free cities. A young human woman named Pearl. She was from the next now-free city to the east of Siracoza. As a moderately skilled mage specializing in defensive and healing spells, she spent time with a unit at the front lines. Caught in a tight spot by a larger enemy force, the unit was decimated. Generally good-natured and a bit on the sensitive side, Pearl was traumatized by the rampant carnage. Something in her mind snapped.

Utilizing her spells creatively, in ways never intended, the psychotic, crazed young mage wrought terror greater than anything the soldiers themselves had done. Thus it was that Pearl escaped with her life. Found days later in a catatonic state, Pearl was taken to a field hospital nearer to Siracoza. After the war, as with Nex, Pearl was brought before Illyana and the Council on Lupus' orders. Efforts by Illyana and Grandmother Craw saw Pearl's sanity restored, but her morals and personality forever warped.

As the sun began to sink, blazing a brilliant red across the treetops, the wedding procession wound through the town. The long tail of soldiers and functionaries followed as far as the base of the switchbacking road cut into the face of the cliff at the Northern edge of the valley. Only the new couple and the Copper Council, along with a few family servants, continued up to the summit, from which the towers of the ruling family's keep overlooked the valley.

Once inside the keep, the Council dispersed, each member off to see to some piece of business. Illyana and Kellish made their way to the base of the East tower where they took their time climbing to the third floor. A chamber there had been prepared for the occasion.

The two stopped before the open door of the chamber. They looked at each other. Illyana shrugged.

"Very well."

Illyana reached up and clasped her hands behind his neck, allowing him to bend and lift her in his arms. She gave him a teasing smirk as he carried her into the room. Apparently this was some sort of time honored tradition where he came from.

Kellish surveyed the room curiously as he set his bride back on her feet just inside the door. He absently closed the door behind him, pale eyes still wandering over the incongruent trappings.

On the other side of some fifteen feet of open stone floor, against the far wall, was a magnificent bed. It had to be eight feet wide and ten feet from head to foot. The blankets were of thick mink fur. The many pillows were sheathed in silk. All the bedclothes were dyed a vibrant red.

On the center of the open floor between them and the bed was an array of chalk markings. A dozen or more groups of archaic occult symbols spaced in a rough circle. At the center of this circle was a single sigil, drawn larger than the others.

To the left of this curious witchery was a low table. Upon the table were layed out various ritual items. Knives, tiny urns holding various herbs and chemicals, a thick stub of chalk, two plain silver goblets and a small book. Antiquities all, by the look of them.

To the right of the door against the near wall stood another, longer table. This one was set with food and drink fit for a wedding. Bowls of sliced apples and peaches and figs. Plates of cured pork, sweet sausage, and roasted quail. Fresh rolls, a jar of goats cheese and another of pickled eggs. Carafes of water, wine, kefir and dark coffee. Even a large bronze bowl of the thick, dark liquer, supposedly spiced with deer or elk blood among other things, which was favored in parts of the Ilyev Empire.

There was also a door in the right wall. Kellish had not had any cause to visit any of these rooms previously, and so had no idea if the door might open on a pantry or coat room of some sort or perhaps another chamber entirely.

"You recall when I asked you what you would do for real power?" Illyana asked when she thought she had given him time enough to study the room.

"Yes." he replied bluntly, stepping toward the circle of chalk marks to examine them more closely.

"I can give you power. Eternal youth. Physical prowess beyond anything human."

"Is that what all this is about?" he gestured vaguely at the circle of markings, then the things on the table.

"Yes. There will be a price, naturally." she smiled.

Kellish stood and moved to stand before her, close. He did not smile, but there was a shadow of amusement in his expression.

"Will that be before or after we properly consummate our union, Lady Rasputin?"

"Before. Patience, Lord Ny." she looked thoughtful for a moment. "Perhaps a demonstration before you decide."

For the wedding Kellish had worn simple, if finely tailored white linen clothes and the same armor he had worn the day he arrived in Siracoza. Before he could comment, Illyana seized his breast plate at either arm hole. Shifting her legs and torquing her body, she threw Kellish bodily against the door.

He was leaning against the door, staring in disbelief, when Illyana stepped up to him. She tossed her hair, smiling her evil smile. Something in her body language shifted. Her arms blurred suddenly. There was a staccato drumming on Kellish's breastplate that ceased almost as soon as it began.

Illyana stepped back, crossing her arms under her breast and looking pleased with herself.

Kellish gave her a wary, perturbed glare before looking down at his armor. Disbelieving his eyes, he ran a hand over the line of overlapping dents running down the center of what had been the convex face of his beautifully engraved steel breastplate.

"You couldn't have demonstrated on something else?" he growled.

"We'll make you another," she replied dismissively, "not that you'll need it."

He somehow managed to look both impressed and annoyed.

"Does that saber have a point?" Illyana asked, nodding to indicate the ceremonial blade Kellish wore. As she spoke she began worming out of the midnight black frills and folds of her gown.

Kellish watched Illyana undress with some interest. Neither love nor lust were the main motivations for their partnership, and Kellish was not one to be easily swayed by a pretty face...or body. Still... suffice to say, if he were that type... he definitely would have been swayed.

Returning his mind to the business at hand, whatever that was, he drew the saber.

"Not a very sharp edge, but it has a point."

"Good." Illyana stood before him, stark naked, hands on hips. She showed no sign of modesty or embarrassment.

Again she moved with blinding speed. Kellish felt a tug at his hand and the next moment Illyana held the Saber, gripping the blade halfway up in her bare hand. Kellish glanced at his empty hand and back again.

Seeing she had his attention, Illyana set the saber point against the flesh of her midsection just above her right hip. Taking the handle in both hands, the muscles on her arms cording, she tensed, driving the blade into herself.

Feeling the pain and pressure pierce her back, she relaxed. She turned, with a slight limp, so that Kellish could see the three inches of blade standing out from her lower back.

"This... is not sorcery?" Kellish asked, skeptical.

"Results of the ritual. Permanent. And there's more."

She tensed again and pulled the bloodied saber clear of her body in one mighty jerk. A gout of gleaming crimson spattered across the floor. Despite what should have been a crushingly painful wound, Illyana was smiling again.

Leaning back and rolling her hips forward to better display the entry wound, she ran a thumb down over it, wiping the blood away. Revealed was a patch of pale, supple flesh. Unmarred by cut or scar. Turning about to suggestively wiggle her shapely ass, she likewise wiped the blood away from the exit wound. Or where the exit wound had been.

Illyana turned back to face Kellish. Waiting for him to comment, she licked the blood from her hand; for all the world like a dark nymph from some fairy tale, savoring fresh honey.

A faint, hungry smile formed on his face. He gave little thought to her apparent literal taste for blood. Rumors suggested she had many eccentricities more bizarre and sadistic.

"Alright," he nodded, "Are you going to tell me the price?"

"Oh, but Kel, where's the fun if I tell you now?" Her fingers obscured her mouth when she replied.

"Well, 'Ill'," he replied sarcastically, "I suppose if it amuses you, we should leave it as a surprise."

"Excellent."

Kellish's eyes followed her every lithe movement as she moved to the table of antiquities. From it she took a goblet and a bone handled knife. She gestured for him to join her.

"Off with your clothes." her tone was businesslike, putting Kellish in mind of a master giving instructions to an apprentice.

Shrugging off a faint reluctance, he did as he was told. When he finally stood naked, having assumed that was what she meant, he looked to her for further orders.

As they had yet to spend any time together intimately, Illyana took the opportunity to look him over. He was strong, but lean as opposed to bulky. Well proportioned and long bodied, with broad shoulders. Well endowed too, she noted, arching an eyebrow.

Deciding she had dallied enough, Illyana gestured him closer. She handed him the goblet, then squatted before him. Without comment or warning she gently but firmly grasped his cock in her left hand. He didn't flinch, but she noticed the muscles in his legs tense and heard him draw a surprised breath.

"You will need to be marked here, so you need trimming. You wouldn't want me to cut this," she gave his member a squeeze, " by accident. Especially if you knew what I had planned for later."

Kellish glanced down at her, answering her brief smile with an intentionally blank look.

While he did an admirable job of keeping up his disinterested demeanor while Illyana trimmed away the pubic hair above his genitals, his body soon betrayed it's own interest. His cock grew, swelling and stiffening in Illyana's hand.

"Here." Illyana handed Kellish the knife when she was satisfied with her work. She brushed loose hairs away, then released his manhood, which sprung up to slap against his lower stomach. Lingering there with his balls at eye level, smelling him, she sympathized with his condition. Like most mages, Illyana had learned to eschew urges which might weaken her focus or concentration. On the other hand, the transformation she had undergone upon completing the ritual of blood had strengthened her senses. And sex drive.

She was getting a nose-full of pheromones and her body wanted to do something about it. It had been a long time since she had experienced such strong urges in relation to sex. She was both surprised and a bit pleased with how much effort it actually took to temporarily subdue them.

Before standing and moving back from Kellish she pressed her lips firmly to the underside of his cock, just below the head.

"Soon." she whispered.

The ritual went well. According to Illyana, at any rate. Kellish agreed that it could have been worse, but he hesitated to contemplate what might have been the result had it gone awry.

Just finishing the preparations had put his resolve to the test. After having him strip naked and trimming away patches of his body hair, Illyana had nonchalantly bid him open his left wrist with one of her ceremonial knives. He had eyed her suspiciously, but again done as she said. While he filled one of the silver goblets from his vein, Illyana prepared a sort of poultice from her herbs and powders and a strip of satin torn from her gowns.

After tying on the poultice, which had stemmed the bleeding almost immediately, Illyana set about painting archaic rune-marks on Kellish's body. With his blood for paint and one of her white fingertips for brush, she carefully marked him at forehead, heart, liver, kidneys and groin. When she had finished the with the markings, Illyana took a handful of another powder, this one a lavender color and glinting as if with crushed crystal or mica. Some of this she blew on each marking.

"Mind your knees and elbows. This will help the runes stick, but it would not do for you to smear one of them before completing the ritual." she had warned him.

Positioning Kellish at the center of the ring of runes on the floor, Illyana stooped to draw a circle around that ring, also in his blood. Returning the goblet and knife to the table, she then took up the book. She opened it where a strip of red silk lay between the pages.

Kellish stood patiently by while Illyana recited cryptic incantations. Several minutes of repetitive, guttural speech later, she paused.

"Now the summoning. You're in the circle. You're making the bargain this time. Repeat after me as best you can. Regardless of what happens, you mustn't break the circle." she spoke quietly.

Kellish nodded.

Illyana hesitated.

"You should be on your knees. Trust me. It might help."