Fear and Loving

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A sacrificed priestess meets her new owner.
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Her eyes fluttered open. Absolute blackness overwhelmed her sight, darkness so heavy it felt hard to breathe. She blinked her eyes rapidly, trying to focus them through the gloom. Slowly, soft torchlight illuminated brick-lined walls caked in filth, pitch black from years of use and neglect. Lines of rust-brown - blood no doubt - streaked the stones from floor to ceiling, highlighted in the soft flicker of the sconces that lined the walls. The walls were absent windows, leaving the air heavy and thick with moisture. The only entrance to the room was a heave wooden door as caked with blood as the stones. A heavy locking mechanism below the handle signaled that escape was futile.

Where the hell was she?!

Se tried to stand, to possibly escape this infernal room. She got not further than halfway up before being jerked back down to the grime-covered floor. Panicked, she whipped her head around to see that her hands and feet were bound with heavy chain, caked with rust and what looked like torn pieces of human flesh. She screamed, the high-pitched sound reverberating off the walls. She jerked wildly, trying in vain to free herself.

"Ah. So the little human is finally awake." A deep voice resounded from outside the door.

She stopped all movement. The heavy lock in the door clicked into motion, the heavy wood swinging wide. Light from the hallway flooded the room, causing her eyes to squint in pain. Two figures, their forms outlined by the blinding light, stood at the mouth of the door.

"My lord, I present to you your new servant." The same deep voice echoed off the stones walls, booming around her in the small room. "A gift from the city of Azerinoth."

"So they finally acquiesced, did they?" Another voice, this one like liquid chocolate, resounded from the taller of the two figures. It slid across the stone floor and wrapped around her skin, caressing her flesh through her fear. "I asked for a person of great importance as payment. What is she to these people?"

"She is one of the priestesses of their temple."

"Ahhhhh." The once sweet, silky voice took on a tone of unrivaled satisfaction. Whoever she was being sacrificed to, the notion of a priestess was clearly music to his ears. "A virgin, then. Excellent." The voice nearly hissed the last word.

She flinched away from the voices, backing up to the cold, grime-ridden stone. The pieces fit in her mind now, completing the puzzle of her fate. Only demons, creatures of unrivaled malice and suffering, would have such a reaction towards a priestess. Her mind raced back to the previous months of turmoil and restlessness of her home. Azerinoth was a stronghold built high in the Lucratias mountains on the boundaries of Astheron and Nordicia, a fortress of unparalleled strength and fortitude. After decades of war and death, the people, weary and starving from sieges, abandoned the old gods of light and love and flocked to those known as the Lords of Blood. Demons born of a more ancient time and strength, the Blood Lords accepted the offer of protection in exchange for a yearly sacrifice of blood. In the years after the wars, temples were built and priests and priestesses were gathered to attend to the stones and blood offerings. For many decades, peace was found at Azerinoth, trade routs were built and wealth finally found the city.

But the peace was short lived. The priests, lost in their new-found pride and greed, had declined to make a sacrifice to the old Lords of Blood, thinking foolishly that their faith and aged scrolls would keep away any form of destruction. The masters of the dark were quick to take notice of the absent offering, and quickly sent plagues of disease and death into the city walls.

Desperate to appease the old lords, the people of Azerinoth rushed to the temples, pleading for leniency. The eldest and most powerful, Laron, demanded a gift of flesh as punishment for their pride. A pact was made with the priests of the temple: A young woman of Laron's choosing was to be taken to the very depths of the mountains, into the fire and rock where the old ones resided. She was to remain there as the demon's personal servant, immortal but forbidden to return to the surface. Doing so would bring back the plagues, and no sacrifice or plea would halt the destruction.

In all her few years of service, Sarina had never entertained the idea of the old story actually being true, let alone being the one chosen to serve a demon as old as the mountains themselves. She tried to imagine how the priests could have possibly carried her down into this damned place without her knowing. She remembered eating dinner with her fellow worshipers, recalling that the wine in her goblet had tasted bitter. A small amount of Jimson weed would be enough to put her out for a few hours. More than enough time to carry her into this hell.

The taller of the figures noticed her reaction and laughed, the sound dancing around the room, echoing in her ears. The sound of the shadow's beautiful laughter snapped her back into cold, dank reality .

"It seems my guest does not like the idea of servitude." The figure turned to the smaller shadow. "Malnoch, you may leave. I wish to examine my new prize in peace." She could hear the smile in that beautiful voice, a fact that sent a shiver racing up her spine.

The smaller shadow bowed. "Of course, sire."

The taller shadow stepped into the room as the smaller figure pulled the heavy door shut. The sconces, which had before only flickered softly, now blazed to life, illuminating her and her captor completely.

Standing just inside the room was a massive man, well over six feet tall. His skin was a deep crimson shade, with jet black markings that reminded her of the old-styled script written on the ancient scrolls scrawled over and around his form. Pitch-black wings, almost bat-like in form- stayed folded against his back, quivering in anticipation. Arms as thick as tree boughs and legs like marble columns connected to a solid trunk. Defined muscles in his chest and abdomen drew her eye before her gaze slipped lower. A think cock, well over a foot long and thick as a man's fist, hung between his powerful thighs.

She blushed and quickly searched his form for something to draw her attention. She settled on tracing the striking lines of his face. The face of an angel, with a strong nose, full lips and a defined jaw line. Eyes like liquid silver bored into hers, causing her to look away out of fear of becoming lost in them.

He strode over to where she lay curled up, stopping just inches from her body. She squeezed her eyes shut, praying that her nightmare was really just a nightmare.

"So this is the priestess that is to be my servant." He reached down with one massive hand and grasped the chain that bound her wrist, pulling her up off the cold floor. "Let's have a look at you, shall we?" He held her at arm's length. She hung there in his grasp, her feel still chained together. She dropped her gaze and stared at the filthy floor, refusing to make eye contact.

"Hmmm." With a grunt, he raised her higher, looping the chain the bound her wrists over an unseen hook in he ceiling. Letting go, the demon stepped back and admired her nakedness. She bit her lip, holding back tears.

He stepped closer, running his palms and fingers over her bare skin. His skin burned her own, the heat from his fingertips making her heart race. He circled her, speaking aloud his thoughts of her form.

"Tall...A good figure...Hmmm...Long legs for one so young." He leaned forward, his mouth an inch from her ear. "I expect to have those wrapped around me tonight," he whispered.

She shivered.

His hands cupped her breasts, squeezing them. "Small, but well formed." He leaned forward and sniffed her skin. "Clean, at least." He lifted locks of her chestnut hair, stroking the strands between his fingers. He moved around her again, facing her. "Blue eyes. Rare...Good."

He stepped back again. "Not bad for a virgin priestess." He reached up and lifted her, pulling her away from the ceiling and setting her back down on the floor. Her knees buckled and she collapsed from fear and confusion.

The demon knelt on one knee and reached out, cupping her chin in his fingers, forcing her to acknowledge his presence.

"A priestess from an accursed and prideful city, sacrificed by her own people out of guilt for their insubordination. Tell me, what name does their sacrifice carry?"

She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. "Sarina."

He smiled. "Sarina. A beautiful name, fitting for one so young and virile. Tell me, child. You know me?" His voice, still intoxicating, made her dizzy.

She nodded. "L-Laron," she whispered.

The demon smiled. "Smart girl." He cocked his head to one side, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "You know why you are here?"

She nodded again.

"Good. Then we'll start immediately." He touched the chains the bound her feet and wrists, the heavy metal dissolving to ash on contact, and hauled her to her feet. "Stand up straight."

She forced her weary body to straighten, her bones cracking in protest. She hung her head and stared at the floor.

"You are to be my servant, you understand that?"

She nodded, biting her lip.

"That requires you a great amount of responsibility, my dear. You will clean, cook and run messages of my will to the priests that so kindly left you here. Anything I ask, it is your duty to make sure it happens. You understand this?"

She nodded in response.

His smile widened. "There is one part of the deal, however, that I'm sure the old priests declined to tell you. In addition to being my servant, your main duty is that of my mate: sharing my bed and bearing my children." His smile turned malicious again. "I am sure you and I will have many beautiful children, Sarina."

She trembled. She'd never slept with a man before! She panicked out of fear that she would fail in her attempts to please him. What would happen to her then?

Almost as if sensing her fear, Laron answered her inner questions. "Fear not, my dear. I will teach you everything I know about pleasure and the ways of the human form." Now his delicious voice had taken on a tone of malice, sending a shiver across her skin.

"Yes, sir," she nodded in acceptance. True, the duty of childbirth had never been explained in the stories, but what choice did she have but do as he asked? If she tried to escape, she would destroy any chance of her people's survival. She looked around at the dank and sickening floor of her prison, hoping that this nightmare- what else could this be?- would simply fade away.

"Master?" she asked, her voice quiet. "Where am I to sleep?"

A wicked smile spread across Laron's face. "That, my dear, is the final and most important of your duties. As my mate, you will be my bed partner as well, satisfying my needs as well as serving my thoughts."

"In fact..." Laron strode toward her, malicious intent in his silver eyes, "Why don't I initiate you now?"

Too stunned to react, she stood completely still as Laron came closer, stopping just inches from her. He placed his massive hands on her slim shoulders and gently pushed her down. She acquiesced, dropping to her knees without a struggle. From where she knelt, she was eye level with his massive cock. She could now see all the fine details that accompanied it's size: the beautiful rust-red color, the same scrolling lines that covered his body, the thick veins that ran along the length. Massive as it was, Sarina couldn't help but think that it was a beautiful piece of flesh.

She heard him laugh. "Is my servant pleased with what she sees?"

"It's...very nice," she managed to choke out.

"Good." He reached down and gently stroked her hair. "My poor cock seems to have lost some of it's luster. I can't possibly please you when it's in this state. Why don't you bring it back to life?"

She inhaled sharply. He stroked her hair again. "It's all right, little one. Take your time. I don't expect you to be a master at pleasure. You are a priestess, after all."

She took one last deep breath and swallowed. She looked at the massive bulk of flesh dangling limply in front of her. There was no way she could take it all in one go. If she tried, she'd lose the ability to breathe. Instead, she reached out and brushed her fingertips against it. The warm flesh rippled at her touch. She pulled back her hand quicker than a lightening strike, unsure of herself and the situation. Biting her lip, she looked up at her captor. Laron was looking down at her, a soft smile lighting his face. That gave her relief. At least he was patient.

She steadied herself and returned her focus to the task at hand. She reached out again and stroked the flesh of his cock again, this time with a firmer touch. It twitched, the blood now pouring into the veins that covered it.

Now sure of herself, Sarina gently wrapped her hand around the think base of his cock and slowly began to move her hand up and down its massive length. The more she stroked it, the thicker it became, until she almost couldn't grasp it. All the while, she could hear Laron's breathing become heavier.

"Taste it, little one. See if my flavor is to your liking as well." His delicious voice broke the silence around them.

She bit her lip, stalling for time.

Laron laughed. "Don't be frightened of it. Mine is no poisonous snake waiting to bite you."

She nodded and leaned in closer. His cock was now pointing skywards, her hand still slowly massaging the soft, warm flesh. Closing her eyes, she ran her tongue along the underside of Laron's flesh, tasting sugarcane and campfire smoke. She reached the tip of his cock with her tongue and quickly pulled away, blushing furiously.

Laron laughed again. "Well done. Now...let me see you pleasure yourself."

She stopped stroking him and looked up in shock.

His smile turned sly. "Come now. Even a priestess has to feel some longing for pleasure. You expect me to believe that you've never explored yourself before?"

She dropped her head in defeat. He was right. There had been numerous times deep within the halls of the temples, when the lamps had been extinguished and the offerings put away, that she had tested her body's limits. Though technically still a virgin, she was by no means innocent or naive.

Sighing quietly, she released the now erect cock and crawled to the nearest wall of the blood-stained room. She could feel Laron's eyes one her, taking in every move and breath.

"Lean up against the wall, little one. Spread your legs so I may see how you please yourself."

Shaking out of nervousness, she did as he asked. The grime-caked stones felt cool against her bare back, the floor smooth as she slid her feet apart. She heard a rustling and looked up the see Laron kneeling only inches away from her, resting his weight one knee. His gaze was unwavering, his smile triumphant. He didn't plan on missing an instant.

Swallowing, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes, tuning out the world. Slowly, she slid one hand down her belly, past the smooth mound between her thighs, into the dark depths where her most wicked fantasies lay. Her other hand teased and massaged her breast, tweaking the nipple only lightly. She'd never like pain, and she hoped that Laron would go easy on her.

After what seemed like endless minutes of useless rubbing, Sarina finally found herself beginning to feel heat build in her core. In her mind, images of invisible men stroking and kissing her skin fueled the spark, gathering heat and power as she continued her touch. Her breathing became labored, the dark crevice between her thighs now soaked with fluid and aching with hunger. Sweat beaded on her skin and she bit back a moan.

"Good girl. That's enough. I think you're ready for me."

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes. Laron was still smiling at her, though the pupils of his silver eyes had almost doubled in size. She pulled her hands away from her aching body, the fire that she had started now spreading to her limbs.

"On your knees, girl."

She nodded, shifting so that she knelt on all fours, her head hung again in defeat. She jerked when she felt his hands on her hips, jerked again when she felt the engorged head of his cock pressing at the entrance to her body. Shaking, she inhaled slowly, letting out a long breath.

One of Laron's fingers traced the line of her spine. "Easy, girl. I'll be gentle. I know priestess are not know for their sexual favors."

She felt him ease his weight forward, felt the tip of his cock slowly spread the delicate labia. When he moved deeper, she bit her lip, her eyes welling up in pain. A virgin, her body wasn't even used to her own fingers, let alone this massive rod of flesh and heat.

He moved slowly, inch by burning inch, stopping when she winced or whimpered. It seemed like hours ticked by before he was finally settled within her. Blood trickled down her thighs, her virgin opening no longer innocent. She bit back tears. If this is what it took to secure her home's safety, she would take the pain.

Fingers stroked her back. "Sarina?"

She inhaled sharply. "Sir?"

"Good. You're still alive."

She nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Good." He shifted inside her, inhaling deeply. "Honey of the gods. Warm, aren't you?"

When she shuddered, he chuckled. "Oh, the things I could do to you were you not so innocent."

Slowly, he began to move. Her body, no longer innocent and prone to pain, now sent sparks of heat racing from her loins to her fingertips. Small electric shocks that stunned her senses and jolted her awake. She'd always imagined the first time as painful, but this...this was magic. Magic as old as the mountains and as powerful as lightening. She moaned, a soft sound of longing bordering on desperation.

Laron laughed, the sound echoing off the stones. "Like what you feel?'

She nodded, too ashamed of her pleasure to answer.

"You'll have to use your words, girl."

Defeated, she whispered, "Yes."

Satisfies by her admission, Laron's thrusts became stronger, causing her to cry out in surprise. Bolts of lightening raced up her spine. Her mind spun, lost amidst mixed sensations of far too much and not nearly enough. Minutes passed slowly, time itself slowed down as they reveled in their mixed reactions. His rough growls of satisfaction mingling with her soft cries for more.

That final thrust carried her over the razor-thin brink of sanity into the dark, hidden realms of her mind she'd never dared explore. Trapped within her mind-spinning orgasm, Sarina was vaguely aware of Laron, bellowing like an animal and spilling his seed inside her. Her limbs gave way, her body slowly collapsing to her floor, Laron's hands guiding her decent. The last drops of blood and semen trickled along her thighs as her breathing returned to semi-normal. Mother had lied to her. Nothing she'd ever been told about sex included this.

Laron's fingers brushed strands of sweat-soaked hair from her cheek. "Well done, my sweet girl. I can tell you'll be quite an exciting bed partner when I'm through teaching you."

Slipping his enormous hands under he slight frame, he hauled her into his arms, cradling her to his chest. A sense of calm crept over her, as if in the arms of the highest of the Blood Lords was the safest place imaginable.

Laron carried her out of the vile room, the massive wooden door opening without command. Powers like that came naturally to an ancient demon. Still cradling her, he walked down a winding hallway lit with flaming statues of old demons and their prey, passing doors as massive and imposing as the one that had kept her caged.

"Where are we going?" He voice was soft, thick with exhaustion. Her orgasm had drained every ounce of strength from her bones, making her extremely glad Laron was carrying her.

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