A Temptation Too Far Ch. 02

After the door closed, Jormuden was again left alone with only his racing thoughts. Hardly the circumstances he had imagined, though within him there grew a gnawing desire. He wondered if the demons had similar misconceptions about Selanian Vows as many others did. It wasn't as if he hadn't lain with another, though it had been a long while, but even that slightest bit of teasing had him sporting an erection that strained the coarse rag serving as his only clothing.

There was nothing to indicate the passage of time aside from the distant ambience of wind howling, and Jormuden's attention drifted further and further inwards as he tried to make sense of his predicament. The creature's intentions seemed fairly direct, but to what end? Unsettled with the notion of being thrown off so heavily, Jormuden waited. Eventually, the harsh gales beyond the heavy door lulled him to a fitful sleep.

He was back in Evkala, standing before The Branded Banner, the singular inn that also served as the town's meeting place. To his flank stood other Knights of the Order: Halmar, the oldest of the knights present, was giving directions to the gathered crowd of peasants; Granden and Tovak stood at Halmar's side, with the casual yet tensed presence of trained warriors. Further down the line were several squires, youths with barely even twenty summers to their names, and at the other end was Arinesse. It had been years since he last saw her training under the tutelage of Halmar, but it seemed as though she had filled the role of Knight-Errant well. Tall and proud, she stood with confidence that even an eagle would envy.

His vision blurred, and Jormuden felt a lurch as he shifted. Night fell on the quiet mountainside town of Evkala, and he was inside the building now, gathered with the other Knights around a table. Halmar was gesturing towards a crude map of the town, his movement highlighted by faint, flickering torchlight. Everyone's face was grim, and understandably so. The demonspawn had gathered in surprising numbers, if the scout reports were even partially accurate, and defeat was all but certain.

And yet it was necessary that they fought here. Each soldier knew in their hearts that their sacrifice was necessary in order to buy time for what the demonspawn didn't know about: an expeditionary force deployed behind the lines of battle that would seal their entrance into the mortal realm, a portal in the distant hinterlands on the other side of the Evkala Valley. No one in the town itself was likely to live through the night, let alone the next day.

Halmar finished reviewing the defensive fortifications and retreat patterns before solemnly looking each individual in the eye, his face the usual mask of stone. In turn, everyone nodded, saluted, then walked boldly into the dark streets to their post. Passing Arinesse on the way out, Jormuden caught her gaze in passing, the two of them wordlessly agreeing to catch up on old times should they survive with a mere look. He had always fancied the assertive way she talked, Jormuden reflected as he stepped out of the inn.

The stone door grinding open jostled Jormuden awake, back to the present. Familiar footsteps echoed into the room, accompanied by that same spicy sweet scent and the gailing winds outside stirring the otherwise still air in the room. With a thud, the door closed again, muting the noise.

"Sorry for the wait, toy," she said as her footsteps approached the stone Jormuden was bound to.

"Thankfully, there won't be any more interruptions," her voice dropping to a purr, sending shivers down Jormuden's spine and stirring heat up within his core.

He didn't flinch this time at her cool touch, her fingers caressing his shoulder, though he did shift uncomfortably as she groped his muscles, exploring his near totally exposed body.

"It's been a long time since I've had such a fine specimen as you, Paladin." Her voice was mocking, yet lyrical all the same as her breath tickled his ear, her hands kneading tense muscles and pinching him when he least expected it, startling him to her amusement.

Everywhere her hands went, Jormuden's skin tingled in their wake. He felt his breathing deepen, and grow faster. It felt as though she went on forever, leaving no corner of his body untouched. Her contact was intoxicating, awakening desires within him that had long lain dormant. Her hand brushed against the simple cloth covering his groin, his painfully erect member straining against the coarse fabric.

"Mmmh... Looks like you're impressive in many regards, toy."

Jormuden inhaled sharply as her soft laughter echoed throughout the room, nothing else existing in the moment. Desperately, he struggled not to buck at her touch, a frustrated groan escaping his lips.

"Just like that," she cooed, her breath tickling his chest.

"Such a shame you have to be so reverant as a Knight of Selane, isn't it?"

Her hand came to a rest just above his crotch, cool to the touch. He felt her weight shift, her breathing come closer to his ear.

"Don't you wish you could just let go? Take what you want, live the pleasures you were meant to have?" Her voice dropped low, her mouth practically kissing his lobe.

The answer formed on Jormuden's lips, almost against his will. An answer he had to reject and bury deep. His face contorted in the effort to keep the word from escaping. It was as if she had dug deep into his psyche, and brought desires he had long suppressed to the surface. Thoughts of what salacious things she would do if he uttered but one, single word flashed through his mind faster than he could chase them out.

Her hand moved from its position at his lower body, slowly gliding up, tracing a path up to his heart, to his chin. Her finger pressed against his clenched lips.

"Don't worry, toy. I'll have you being honest and true to yourself in no time at all. I'm quite good at it, you'll find."

Suddenly, she was gone. Her footsteps echoed out, and the door closed behind her, leaving Jormuden in a haze of anticipation and frustration. Only what had to have been minutes passed before he felt his senses returning, accompanied by a small amount of dread. In only a matter of a day, she had him at the brink of breaking, at the precipice of giving into her wily charms. How long could anyone last against such an onslaught? Steeling himself, Jormuden resolved to frustrate the witch-like demon whatever it took, for as long as he could.

And so he fell into a pattern. The tempstress would return what seemed to be once a day, coaxing him to yielding to her pleasures, promising an eternity of luxury through servitude to her. Every time, the words leapt up his throat, and only barely, by the thinnest of margins, did he hold back. The days began to blur together in his memory, and it was difficult to keep track of how many had passed. A week? A month? He genuinely couldn't tell.

It had been difficult at first, but to his comfort the temptation to speak gradually became easier to control, he felt himself slowly but surely backing away from the edge of temptation. To the demonesses' credit, Jormuden could detect no vexation in how she toyed with him, which brought an edge of concern to his mind. Was this still according to her plan, his resistance? Doubts slowly festered in his mind, with nothing but honeyed words to distract him from his rumination in between.

The routine continued, until one day when everything changed.

Right away, he could tell something felt different as soon as she walked in this time: the all-too-familiar scent was stronger, his body reacted with more heat, his imagination was more wild. The room had the weight of potency, like the heavy blade of an executioner's axe poised to strike.

His tormentor's voice was just as pleasant, soft and inviting as before, but Jormuden could feel something in his gut that tickled his primordial fears, activated his neglected battle-senses. Her voice had the edge of confidence in it, as though she were playing a game of stones and had just discovered the winning move.

"You really are something, paladin. You've lasted far longer than most mortal men would have, even with that gentle teasing we've been playing at."

She approached, the aroma growing ever more intoxicating, his head swimming in a sea of confusion. He could feel his thoughts getting murkier, as though a thick veil had been drooped over his mind.

Her tone was that of a cat who had just pounced and caught their prey.

"But now I think it's time we have a bit more fun, see what you're really made of."

Her voice was right next to him, her breath hot on his ear.

"All I ask is your name, toy. Easy as that, and I'll give you just a little taste of the heaven that awaits you."

Reflexively, Jormuden clamped his mouth down, but found his reaction was slower than it had been before, his mind frantically clawing its way through the fog that clouded his mind, fighting for control.

"Jo-!"

The syllable slipped out, betraying his soul to the sound of his tantalizer's soft melodious laughter. He heard her move, and suddenly she was sitting on him, her soft skin ever so teasingly close to his manhood. It took everything Jormuden had in that moment not to try to gratiate himself against her as she continued to mock him.

"Hmm, not quite, toy. Just a name, is that so much to ask for?"

It wasn't that much, he caught himself thinking before quickly shaking out of it. Gods above, he silently complained, how could anyone last against this?

She hadn't stopped while he was preoccupied with his prayer, however. Her weight shifted on him as she settled in more comfortably, and abruptly Jormuden felt her hand brush against his erection again.

Something broke, then. A tiny crack in the dam holding himself back, his will slipping for just the slightest of moments. To his horror, he croaked out one word.

"Jormuden."

Even blindfolded, he could feel her exultant smile beaming at him, her hand now more than merely resting on his painfully hard loins. It was an explosion of colors in Jormuden's mind as she gently caressed him through the cloth, the sudden motion sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout his body.

Her voice was still at his ear, breathy and enticing, her warm body pressed up against his.

"Good boy. Wasn't that so easy?"

Ecstasy washed over him in waves, Jormuden's hips twitching against her touch, rebelling against his diminished control. He groaned in frustration at his developing inability to contain his lust in the face of relentless teasing. If his willpower was a dam, his desire was overflowing it in a tsunami.

Her hand retreated as she lifted herself off of him. Jormuden whimpered at the absence, immediately flushing with shame. What in the light was he doing?

He felt a tug at the shroud covering his eyes, and abruptly it was pulled away. Rapidly blinking at the influx of light to his months-blinded eyes, his vision was blurry but quickly cleared.

Standing before him, smirking, was the most beautiful woman Jormuden had ever had the blessing to lay eyes upon. Drinking the sight in, he hardly registered what the rest of the room looked like. Even without something to compare to, he could tell that she was tall, perhaps even taller than he was, curvaceous and yet as lithe as the few An Siele he had had the fortune of meeting. What certainly didn't pass his notice however was the clear evidence she was a demon: two rounded horns protruding from her temples, small pointed ears poking out of cascading golden hair just beneath them. In staunch contrast to the dark room her skin was fair like cream, draped in a clinging pale gold dress with a faint metallic sheen.

His eyes drifted from her horns, and her red eyes sparkled with teasing laughter as Jormuden took in the rest of the sight in front of him. A plunging neckline teased his imagination, tight fabric accentuating her shapely hips, cocked as she enjoyed his wandering gaze.

Unbidden, images and ideas floated through Jormuden's mind, tempting him with unlimited possibilities; thoughts of what salacious things the two of them could do, imagining what she would feel like wrapped around-

He shook his head, frantically trying to dispel the lurid machinations of his mind under her influence, her soft laughter reverberating throughout the small, dim chamber, echoing in his skull.

"You're remarkably strong, paladin," she cooed, her praise elating Jormuden despite his desperation to reject anything that escaped her admittedly plump lips.

The tension in the room broke abruptly as she strode forward, her eyes locked on Jormuden's. She hesitated as she drew to his side, her expression taking on an unexpectedly apologetic or perhaps disappointed tone.

"Although I'd love to just slow-cook you until you become mine willingly, the Solstice is just around the corner and my Lord can be quite impatient."

Twin feelings of dread and perverse anticipation bubbled forth in Jormuden's mind. Did she really say the Solstice? Had winter already come and gone? Did that mean... no. The others couldn't have failed in their task. The very possibility of not only Jormuden's sacrifice but also the hundreds others who knew they fought a losing battle's sacrifice having been in vain was rejected outright. The devil had to be lying.

"Oh, I'm not though," as though she were responding to his thoughts, interrupting Jormuden's mulling. Her eyes, her posture, everything about her spoke to knowing of his internal torment and absolutely loving it.

"You really shouldn't be thinking about other things with a beautiful woman right in front of you paladin, some might think it rude."

Leaning in towards his crotch, her fingers brushed over the coarse rag again, a quiet gasp escaping Jormuden's mouth as the cloth vanished in a small burst of flame. Her laughter was breathy and quiet as she basked in his lustful discomfort.

"At least this one's honest about what he wants," she whispered, her silky soft fingers caressing his hardening shaft. Her delicate touch glided up and down feeling every corner of his taut skin, the few points of contact sending shivers up Jormuden's spine.

The smell of spices from earlier returned, and in force. Heat pulsed throughout Jormuden's core, flooding into the rest of his body as she continued, her fingers now teasing the tip. His head felt light, as though he had just stood up after sitting for too long. He struggled against his restraints, but the chains held fast, clinking against the stone. His breathing was ragged, hints of a moan breaking through as she continued toying with him. Glancing down, her gaze was intense, full of the same lust he was so desperately trying to deny foothold within him.

"You're doing so good Jormuden," she cooed, her full hand now enveloping his rigid shaft.

"You don't have to fight it, just let go..."

She was right. He hated to admit it, but she was. There wasn't any point anymore in fighting against the crashing waves of pleasure that threatened to pull him into an everlasting sea. The solstice was near, which meant that the others had failed in their attempt to defeat this "Dark Lord". Besides, was it so awful a thing to give in to? Some part of him deep within screamed that this was wrong, that he shouldn't ever, yet Jormuden couldn't grasp why.

While he was conflicted with thoughts of surrender, the demon had slid over between his spread-eagled legs kneeling on the dark stone, her eyes glittering with approval as she bathed in his uncertainty.

"Yes, just like that," her voice a throaty moan, as though she too felt the pleasure he did.

Her eyes dropped to his manhood as she continued to slowly stroke, small dropsdrops of precum forming on the tip. Her agile tongue lapped it up, teasing his sensitive head. Slowly, almost lazily, her tongue began to swirl further round and around, ripples of heady euphoria coursing through his mind. Jormuden had been with exceptional lovers in the past, but all now seemed blushing maidens comparison as the demon's head began to bob, her cascading blonde hair a spectacle that he just couldn't tear his eyes away from.

Jormuden could feel his willpower slipping as she took him into her soft and warm mouth, her tongue bathing his shaft as she sank ever so slowly deeper each time. His grip on containing his mounting unspeakable desires felt as though he were trying to climb a wall of ice with no purchase: through cracks pure bliss seeped in, clouding his mind.

The demon buried her face to the hilt, his dick completely within her throat. It was as though it took no effort from her, as she stayed, her hips gyrating in the air as she finally tasted her prey. Her throat squeezed around him, massaging his manhood. The assault of sensations rocked any semblance of control over Jormuden's mind as he groaned in earnest, unable to hold his pleasure back.

The demon hummed as she worked his length, his messy shaft disappearing back into her mouth with a wet slurp. Her hands began to softly caress his balls, and Jormuden could feel a buildup in the intensity of his pleasure, soaring towards his peak. Within mere moments, he could feel panic begin to edge its way back into his mind as the more sane parts of him desperately struggled to regain some semblance of control before he leapt off past the edge.

Jormuden bucked his hips as the demon's ministrations lulled him into an abyss of pleasure and abandon. In his mind's eye, he could see himself teetering on the edge of oblivion, two halves of his mind warring over whether it'd be nice to let go and fall or if he owed it to his oath to fight on. His focus stumbled for but a moment, and everything crumbled around him.

A crescendo of pleasure washed through his body and mind as his cock swelled, pumping both seed and soul into her eagerly awaiting throat. Jormuden groaned in earnest, unburdened by any notion of shame or duty at last as his vision blurred and his light head fell back. The demon milked his length, her delighted muffled coos the last thing he heard before fading into the dark.