Empire of the Black Moon

She shivered with climax after climax, milking his iron hard member for everything it had. With each soul melting release, she felt her grip on reality loosen and voices that were not her own. With each spray of her uncle's tainted seed, the voices grew louder, more sensuous and tempting. She knew them all to be Morgana, and despite this, welcomed the witch into her soul.

How could she not?

Ecstasy had robbed her of resistance, not that she could have resisted. Her fall was only a matter of time and that fact made the young girl all the more aroused. The dark queen's gift burned into her soul, spreading throughout her body like an infestation of spiritual vice. Before Clara could even think that she would never be the same, she was already changed. For one so inexperienced and innocent, Morgana's touch fell upon her like quicksilver, infesting her soul and replacing virtue for vice with terrible speed.

For a moment she writhed in her chains, her eyes shut in unbearable pleasure as Morgana's insidious essence took root within. Her sweat covered skin shined in the throne room's torchlight, her soft sighs and gasps filling the silence. The large slopes of her creamy breast flesh swayed and bounced to her sudden jerks and twitches, all futile and weak efforts to escape her fate.

The fallen holy warrior stepped back from Clara's chains, spent and exhausted, his mind in a haze. And when at last her eyes opened, slowly, delicately... orbs of heartless violet greeted Joran.

Evil had left the Paladin, and he rejoiced, sensing the first rays of noble thought piercing through the gray clouds of his mind. It was only when he realized that it had passed from him to another that his joy was chilled.

Joran backed away from his turned niece, the gravity of his terrible deed sinking in. "Oh... may His Holiness forgive me... may you forgive me Clara... I'm so sorry."

"Don't be!" Clara shot back with unexpected venom, breaking away from her chains with ease. "This is a gift!" she hissed. "She has made me glorious!"

It was then the Paladin dropped to his knees coughing, his tongue tasting like ash. "What sick mockery is this, witch!?" Black blood dripped from his nose onto the marble floor, splattering like oil drops.

Morgana cackled. "You fool! Old lusty fool... you forget that your curse was my blessing... your only hold on life. You fucked me remember? The soul is the price for such a gift. Now you've given up my blessing to your dear niece..." Clara moaned like a harlot and clutched her heavy and swollen breasts, her lush pale flesh pouring through her fingers. "And still you have no soul. Nature is merely asserting itself."

Joran struggled up to his feet, his back hunched over, rage in his eyes. The Black Knight readied his weapon but Morgana held her hand up. "I will... strangle... the life out of your pallid... litt-" he coughed and held his throat in pain.

Morgana's laughs were sweet as they were cruel. "Oh 'noble' warrior... this was the deal! Force yourself upon your sweet niece or watch her die. You went through with it, your will alone, I made sure of that. And now... a life for a life. Yours for hers. That sounds noble, doesn't it?"

The whole room roared with laughter, even Joran's former men and his precious niece. The Paladin fell back onto his knees. "Biiitch..." he gurgled, before his body collapsed into ash. And with him, the rebellion to Morgana's rule, was at last...

Dust.