The Duty of a Noble Lady

"I will give you what you want. Ever hungering, your lust for more draws me like a nectar. So must I liberate you of this burden. Desire is such a terrible thing until satiated." The daemon turned, casually grabbing Rogier's mutilated body. He gave a twist and a pull, and the slack face, bloody hair, and jowly goatee of her husband came free from his crushed thorax. With dexterous efficiency, he plucked one of the hungry eyes from Rogier's skull. Callously indifferent, he squeezed his fist, popping the eye and covering his palm and fingers in slick eye jelly. That same hand then grasped his manhood and began to stroke it, covering it in a little bit of her former love.

His other hand shot out, clamping her arm. "You want to know what power is like? I shall show you."

Alice struggled. She tugged and twisted, her mask completely shattered. Even the sounds outside seemed more distant. Or quiet. Maybe they all were dead. Alice tried to pull back, but gained no purchase. His strength was immeasurable, there was no conceivable way she could ever meaningfully thwart him. But that despair didn't slacken her furor. She shrieked in a primal fury, her free arm and legs struggling to gain any distance from the daemon.

"Ere the sun rises you shall pledge yourself to me and my cause, my duck. You shall proclaim with a heart of gladness that your soul belongs to Ostacar. Now submit." The daemon's eyes bored into Alice's own, and she was dismayed by what she could not comprehend in that gaze. He drew her closer by the arm in his grasp. He stood, wrenching her upward painfully and appraised her as she dangled by one aching arm. Like he was discarding a spoiled fruit, he threw her into the bed, the mattress a ruin from shards of stone. He then grabbed one leg and spun her about, so that her waist aligned with the edge of the bed.

He didn't wait for any grand fanfare or make any more proclamations. He impaled her upon his rod. Her mind bloomed with fireworks of agony. The pain of Rogier's lovemaking was of too much, too quickly. This was a fundamental impossibility. This was a total lack of physical accommodation. She was not made to handle something of this size, this heat. It tore at her, him donning a garment tailored for one much smaller than he. And his entire body radiated a steady heat. More than the heat of a flame at distance. He was burning her from the inside out. And he was only starting.

"My lord!" Alice shrieked, a delirious wail that tore at her already beleaguered voice. This wasn't a pain of discomfort. This was a pain of rending, a feeling of being wholly pried apart. Her brain was singing a chorus of panic and despair. She didn't just feel helpless, as he drove into her, deeper and harder with each thrust, she felt a sense of utter inhumanity. She wasn't even adequate at being a hole. Her body was giving out even at this task. Surely her insides had been cruelly torn, rent open by his monstrous cock. She wanted to look down, to see if her womanhood was a ruin, steadily torn apart as the daemon continued to use her without any compunction toward her mortality. Were her legs just useless limbs, flailing about as he steadily, unceasingly pried her apart?

But she couldn't even steal a glance. His eyes held sway, and her will did him homage. What was once a dull orange ember in his gaze was now a full bonfire. His eyes flared in golden hues as he had his way with her. His lips continued to smile.

One hand was firmly on her hip, absolutely pinning her in place. The other grasped a breast, nails biting into place. Not just a slight cut, they pierced the skin, lacerating deeply. As he gripped harder, it cut through her flesh, leaving it a shredded ruin. Her chest was a beacon of duress, blood spilling down her belly, warm and sticky. One breast sufficiently mauled, his hand grasped her delicate throat. The slightest pressure from his fingers cut her off almost completely. Her thoughts, already little more than primal wailings of terror and euphoria, became a muted buzz. Her vision dimmed as she felt only the ceaseless immutable engine that was his dick hammering away at her fuckhole. Every bit of what Rogier had left there, any sense of self Alice still had, was ruthlessly torn away as the daemon manhood would withdraw.

But with every drawing back, in the blinding sheets of pain, through the terror and the suffocating brain, she felt the warmth of true sensation- an elevation of pleasure that beat against her own humanity, her own cohesive vision of what Alice was. This hungering void of pleasure begged internally for the daemon to return again, to fill her just a bit more. She was a dutiful noblelady. As it ever was and would be, hers was the lot to be a lush furrow for seed to be sowed in. Rogier failed, this daemon would not.

And as he violated Alice under mental and physical strain, he also continued to warm. A flame within an unnatural guise, his body emitted a searing heat. Where he held her, the hips and throat, the skin began to smoke slightly, blisters raising around the contact. Her blood steamed and boiled, as he churned away at her rent chasm, continuing to invade and destroy.

Alice felt herself somehow bucking into him as he thrust, mewling groans emerging from her trembling lips. Slaver ran down her chin, so intoxicated was she on his pulverizing of her insides. She wanted more. She wanted him to drive his cock so deeply she'd be split in twain. She rocked her hips insistently into him. Her panting moans were incessant, needy, enslaved. Her mind fuzzy as he denied her lucidity, she grasped his forearm and pulled, trying to bury him deeper, farther. If her legs could have responded, she would have twined them around his hips to draw him in more fully.

"Ah, have you come to see now what you are? This is what you yearned for, to be nothing but a receptacle for my pleasure." With a sigh of contentment, he pressed her to him. His dick spasmed in climax, shooting far up into her ruined cunt. Each spurt was a new rope of heat, filling her with a magma that briefly assuaged her primal needs. He continued to ejaculate, his jism filling and filling, substituting its substance for where Alice used to be. She felt complete. Whole. Useful. Loved.

He released her throat and the world returned in a rush of sound and color. Her vision swam and her ears roared as blood flooded into her starved brain. Almost immediately, her body seized in the throes of orgasm, her muscles tensing and pulling. Pleasure battered against the fear and the pain, a searing light that scorched away all her concerns.

"You, my duck, have a sublime cunt. Your husband was sorely mistaken on that count. He was a poor judge, methinks. He was also mistaken on another count. You are far from barren." He traced one nail over the distended midriff that Alice was only vaguely aware of, as another wave of euphoria wracked her into full body spasms, involuntarily smiling as her muscles clenched again. "You will bear me a child, yes. Your torment is only yet to begin. Perhaps I let the imps have you tomorrow."

Alice reached one tremulous hand. "More," she croaked.

"You've done your duty tonight." The daemon patted the hand in a way that could have been seen as fond. "You are every bit the vapid vessel a noblelady should be."