A Temptation Too Far Ch. 03

Jormuden found himself flung through oblivion again, the feeling uncomfortably familiar, still reeling from both the pleasure he found in his torment and the fading feeling of revulsion. Even disoriented as he was, he found no difficulty in reaching out to the divine power granted to him, by instinct attempting to draw on the blessings of Selane to bolster his faltering spirit.

Nothing. Not even the trace of where it should be, not even the sense of being blocked from reaching the wellspring.

Nothing. A cold hollow void where once he drew comfort and strength.

He'd been abandoned in his greatest hour of need. Left to fend for himself against unassailable odds.

Anger flared up within Jormuden's heart, a smoldering ember roaring to life. The feeling was surprising; he'd never been one quick to temper, but what better reason could justify it?

Drifting amidst nothing, alone with only his thoughts, Jormuden found the emotion difficult to shake. He tried to center himself as he'd learned before but found the exercise fruitless with every path leading only back to the unfairness of it all. Had the love he'd felt from Selane ever been genuine, or was Jormuden just a tool to be cast aside as soon as his usefulness ran out?

He could only faintly feel the flow of time and while he couldn't be certain it felt as though hours passed into days. As the time slipped him by, Jormuden couldn't help but wonder if he had fallen into the realm of the godless, the abandoned. The discarded.

The kernel of anger he had entered this dark realm with festered, gnawing and twisting its way through his entire being, casting thorny roots into every crevice of his soul. It morphed into a seething rage, held in place just beneath the surface.

It came without thought; A prayer, an offering. A pact, his rage casting threads into the unending darkness to find any purchase.

"Grant me strength, that I may exact vengeance on those who wronged me. Grant me ferocity, that I need not the boons of others. Grant me power, that I may take what is mine. "

His tone shifted, tinged with the white-hot vitriol that he had come to know, domineering and vengeful. Revenge oozed from his every vein, every pore. With the last word, a new warmth flooded Jormuden's core, filling his soul as though a silent answer to his plea.

He became aware of an ethereal tether bound to his body, trailing off into the dark void. Grasping with his newfound strength, Jormuden pulled himself to and along the sinuous material. Time was strange here, the only measure of it was his movement on the tether: hand over hand, pull; Hand over hand, pull. Though he continued for what seemed to be hours, his arms grasped just as firmly as he had started, his arms flexing with the same fervor. Hand over hand, pull.

The tether led to a red glow, gradually growing larger as he continued. As he drew ever closer, echoes of laughter and vague hints of familiar smells blessed his numbed senses as he immersed himself into the warm light, exalting in the sensations.

His eyes snapped open. He was laying on a soft bed, cushions and pillows surrounding him, staring up at a vaulted wooden ceiling. Rich tapestries of varying designs hung from carved beams crossing the space, their designs and materials disparate but equally lavish. Looking through thin veils covering the redwood bed frame, he noticed the walls too were covered in an array of paintings with gilded frames and shelving with baubles and trinkets: numerous but not in such a way as to be gaudy. The room smelled faintly of a sweet spice, and was still but for quiet humming from the other end of the room.

He sat up, noting that he was unrestrained. His muscles acted with strength, none of the aching soreness he had expected for some reason he couldn't remember. Peering through the bed curtains he saw a woman a short distance away, her back towards him. She sat on a cushioned chair at a table adorned in various vials and small clay jars, a tall mirror lit by a small assortment of candles. Loose golden hair rippled as she moved, applying some sort of ointment to her face, gently dabbing with a small brush.

He caught sight of himself sitting shirtless in the bed in the mirror just as her eyes met his in the reflection. She smiled at him, putting her brush and small jar aside, and he felt a warm comfort at it. He liked when she smiled. Something tugged at his attention, though. A beckoning thought just out of reach, calling to him.

The woman rose from her seat, turning to him. There was something familiar about her, in the back of his mind. He knew her, but wasn't sure how. She was stunning, in a way that he figured he wouldn't be able to forget. Tall and lithe, she wore an ornate silk robe, pale with embroidered patterns of roses that hugged and emphasized her curves, the sash tied to the side. She stood there for a moment, a hand on her cocked hips, her ruby eyes making a quick glance down his body and back up to him.

She liked what she saw, he surmised, based on how her bright red lips quirked slightly to the side. There was a measure of pride in her approval; an anxious energy about displeasing her subsided just as quickly as he noticed it. He was self-conscious of her gaze, how it lingered on his for a moment or two before roaming his body. He fidgeted, adjusting his posture, drawing one leg in and flexing slightly without even thinking of it. Her smile grew more amused, and he could feel the emotion as though it were pouring through a window in his mind.

"You are just full of surprises, aren't you?"

The woman closed the gap, the luster of the robe catching at the light in the room as it shifted, her movement smooth and sinuous. She stopped at the foot of the bed, leaning toward him on her outstretched arms on the footboard. The aroma was stronger now, and he had to fight with every ounce of his will not to stare at how her arms framed her ample cleavage, how every line and texture of the cloth flowed toward her plunging neckline. His fidgeting grew stronger. What was he doing here? Who was this strange woman? Who is -

The woman shushed softly, interrupting his spiraling thoughts.

"Shhh now, it's okay Toy," her voice smooth as the silk she wore, "You're safe here with me."

She was right. He was safe here, what danger could there be in a bedroom? Another thread of thought lingered, not yet quieted by her words. Something was deeply wrong here, even though he was safe.

"Oh, baby."

Her eyes twinkled as she spoke the comforting words, pouting her lips. Lifting herself onto the bed, she cooed in the same calming tone. He instinctively shied away, driven by some animus beyond his grasp as a soothing calm blanketed his mind, muffling his thoughts.

"You must be so confused right now, it will all make sense soon. You just have to trust your Mistress."

The fog began to clear as she spoke, his mind casting aside parts of the net she wove yet still entangled in others. He could feel the succubus's radiating heat as she knelt across from him, smirking as she reveled in his struggle. He tried to move, to scramble away or fight, but her fixed gaze kept him anchored to the spot.

"It would've been so much easier for you if he'd just let me have you," she chuckled, low and throaty.

The warm scent from earlier returned in force, her eyes glinting in the candlelight.

"We'll still have our fun, Toy. Especially once you embrace your true self."

With a smirk she waved her hand, a glowing sigil in the air briefly flashing.

He gasped as a sudden heat began pouring from his core, his veins carrying liquid fire to every pore of his skin. It was a feeling unlike any other in his life: with every breath he took he could taste every mote of scent, colors sharpened and bloomed as his eyes drank in all the light in the room. His racing heart was a drum, each pulsating beat reverberating throughout his skull. Swirls of emotion burst through his fragile poise, an inferno of desire and frustration burning away any articulate thoughts.

Every smell washed over him tenfold, the fruity spice filling his lungs, underneath it the heady aroma of arousal wafting from the both of them. His muscles writhed against invisible bonds finding no purchase, but every brush of the fabric, every twitch of his strained body sent electric waves tracing all up and down his spine.

The woman's intense gaze remained constant, her red eyes growing into an infinite horizon, a sunset without end, an overwhelming tide of her lust crashing and flooding through his mind. He tried to call out, managing only a hoarse croak as he drowned in her visage, tumbling further and further in the turbulent storm.

Slowly, ever so slowly, it began to fade. His heartbeat slowed to a dull thud, chest heaving. He propped himself up on his arms, his now unbound muscles responding with fresh vigor. She continued to advance, her curves swaying and reflecting the flickering candlelight as she swept up past his legs. The sheer silk hid little and hinted at more, the floral patterns beckoning to his frozen gaze. His hips bucked as the fabric ever so slightly brushed over his engorged manhood. He could see it in his peripheral standing proud and tall as though reaching for her, twitching with just the anticipation of pleasure.

Stopping at his broad chest she draped herself across his torso, pressing herself onto his chiseled body. Something seemed off about the shocking definition and sheer mass of his muscles for a halting moment, but the thoughts were quickly cast aside as she lounged on him, her skin radiating a warmth that echoed his own. She kissed his abs, leaving a trail of tingling soft red marks as she worked her way up his chest and to his neck. Her teeth found small purchase on the skin of his neck as she continued.

She whispered to him then, her breath hot in his ear and coating his mind in a blanket of desire.

"Touch your Mistress, Toy. Put your hands to work."

There was no space for hesitation; her body beckoned to his as he took hold of her hips, revelling in the sensation of her taut yet supple body under his hands. Kneading and caressing as he set about exploring her back rewarded him with a moan, doubling his effort to please his Mistress. His erection continued to ache for her touch, but as his hips began to buck she seized his chin in her hand with a quiet hiss, her piercing gaze boring into his eyes.

"Only good boys get a reward, Toy."

A moment passed before she loosened her grip, leaning her head down again her whisper tickling at his ear.

"Would you like to show Mistress how much of a good boy you are?"

He nodded, fervent in his desire to please her. His whole body flushed with desire as he fought to keep himself from just taking her, from making her his.

"Good boy," she cooed as her body shifted, drawing herself above him. His hands drifted from her shoulders back down to her hips as she brought her glistening pussy to his face. She hovered for just a moment above him, beginning to speak again.

"Now, show me how-" she cut off with a surprised yelp as he braced his arms on her thighs, pulling her in. He didn't wait, lashing out with his tongue into her heavenly folds. No woman he had pleasured like this tasted so divine, as though of the nectar of the gods. He circled her clitoris, teasing for a moment before returning to her depths, eating her out as a man starved being brought a platter of the most succulent spread of exotic fruits.

Above him she attempted to ragain her composure under his tongue's assault, her voice halting and broken by moans and sighs.

"You insolent -- Toy, you -- Oh!"

She captured his head in a vice, tangling her fingers into his hair as she began to grind herself against his face, resuming control over her Toy. She moaned, breathless and increasing the cadence of her rocking.

"Mmmph, you are a good boy."

Her moans came faster and her grip on his head tightened as she neared a crescendo. Jormuden attempted what he could with his tongue, strangely tireless, his hands working Mistress's thighs.

She continued to haltingly speak between moans that gave way to a whine, "I'm - I'm close! Eat your Mistress's pussy, Toy -- Oh! -- Just like that!"

Her thighs abruptly squeezed in on his head, her hands nearly tearing his hair out as she came, spasming on Jormuden's face as she rode the high with a scream.

They remained there for a moment, both basking in her orgasmic bliss. She lifted herself off his sticky face, rolling to her side and settling down along side him. Her touch was a gentle caress now, winding through his disheveled hair and tracing his jaw. Her eyes sparkled with joy and pleasure, the feeling mirrored in the back of his mind. It was almost as if he could feel it himself, her approval of him.

Still, something lingered in the shadows and recesses of his brain. It was trying to tell him something, something important, but couldn't risk basking in the same glorious afterglow exuding from Mistress. It was there for a fleeting moment, but vanished as her hands trailed from his face and to his chest. The desire from before had abated for long enough, and came crashing back into his thoughts.

Her smile this time was kind, her voice smooth and comforting.

"You've been such a good, good boy for Mistress."

Hope stirred within his cock, standing at attention and leaving a trail of precum across his pelvis as it rose. He dared not move, letting her nails trace a path down his chest. His breath caught as her other hand cradled the back of his head, pulling him towards her, their breaths intermingling as they came face to face.

"I smell so good on you, Toy."

Her tongue flicked out, lapping up her juices from around his lips, drawing teasingly closer and closer.

"You're a slut for your Mistress, aren't you?"

"Yes, Mistress," he breathed out, painfully aware of how close her trailing hand drew to his hips.

"Say it. Tell me you're my slut. Tell me you're my Toy."

"I-," he shuddered as her fingers circled at the base. The far away voice in his head called out, but he was too far gone, too far under the current of her power.

"I'm your slut, Mistress. I'm your Toy."

"Good boy," she said, gently kissing him as her hand found his head, smearing the tip as she stroked him.

The world vanished around him, only Mistress's soft lips pressed against his and her hand giving him his reward. She moved delicately, peppering him with small pecks and caressing the length of his shaft, occasionally cupping his balls. He moaned into her kisses and her laughter was like small chiming bells in a gentle breeze.

Her grip on him tightened, the pace increasing as her smothering kisses trailed down to his neck. She suckled at his skin, surely leaving massive bruises marking him as her slut, her toy to do with as she pleased. He didn't mind it one bit with the building pressure in his loins and whispered affections in his ear driving him closer and closer to the precipice.

Mistress's ministration at his manhood made obscene schlocking noises as his cock continued producing a precipitous amount of lubricant as she coaxed him towards climax. He was in a state of pure bliss that he'd never felt before, his head light as release neared promising untold pleasure.

The crescendo kept building, higher and higher, as he thrusted into her hand moaning like a wanton whore. There was no room for shame though, only thoughts of finishing, flashing images of sexual release.

His moans began to turn to a high-pitched whine as the bubbling release never arrived, always looming over him but never crashing. He opened his eyes to see Mistress now mocking his desperation with a pout, her hand continuing to pump.

"Awww, can my little slut not finish?"

He couldn't catch his breath, couldn't find the words to beg her to allow him to cum as her assault of pleasure continued.

"I don't think you're being honest with me, Toy. And that makes Mistress very, very upset."

All he could manage is a pleading look towards her pouting face.

"There's still some part of you that you haven't let go of yet, Toy. I know how badly you want to be mine, but you aren't ready yet."

His mind reeled as she took a frantic pace along his shaft.

"You won't be able to cum for me until you're truly entirely mine, Toy. I know this hurts so much right now but you needed to see it for yourself."

Heaving breaths racked his chest as her pace began to subside.

"Shhh, shhh. Don't worry Toy. Mistress knows how to fix you."

His still straining erection in her hand swelled.

"Do you trust me, Toy?"

His voice was faltering, held up by that strange presence in his mind for a flimsy second.

"Y-yes, Mistress."

She turned his face toward hers, cupping his chin.

"You'll have to wait for it to be ready for you. But you'll be a good boy and wait for Mistress, won't you?"

He nodded, unsure.

She clapped her hands together.

"Mistress knew you would!"

She gave him another small, affectionate kiss before turning away, straightening her hair as she stepped off of the bed. He was left in a state of dizzying lust, his manhood now sore beyond reason and his mind still reeling from the sudden departure of his Mistress's presence.

He breathed deeply, listening to his Mistress dress for a minute before leaving, a door softly closing behind her. The moment she was gone, the shadowy presence in his mind lept forth.

A surge of energy filled his chest, a seething anger flooding his core as it all came back to him. Jormuden. He was a Paladin of... no. Selane had abandoned him, left him to be some toy for that succubus to play with. He was on his own, now. The confusion from before melted away, though his body still raged for release. He sat up, flexing his newfound strength. The succubus had done quite a number to his body, it seemed. He was larger now, in almost every dimension, with faint runic markings tracing up and down his body.

Jormuden needed to plan now. Hiding from her magic had been difficult, and he suspected that she could have easily snuffed the fractured half of his soul with ease. There must be another reason she left me 'intact', he mused. Entertainment, perhaps? Was she merely toying with her pray, or was there something more going on? Emotions and thoughts bubbled to the surface when the thought of Mistre -- no, the demon, came up. Her magic had taken deep root in the parts of himself he'd left for her, it would seem. Plans and theories swirled through his mind. He needed to act quickly, but needed more information on how exactly he could break free.

First, this new body of his. Standing from the bed, his manhood dropped down, swinging slightly. While his size before wasn't anything to scoff at, now he was truly massive even when half to bear. Several inches in length with girth around to spare, already growing again as he thought of it and felt the air brush past. Little wonder he didn't pass out when it stirred to life. He reached to hold it, but held himself back. He couldn't let the succubus's magic reign over him, no matter how difficult it was to ignore the urges of his whole body.

Paladins had a routine they learned to keep their bodies in shape and flexible, which Jormuden immediately launched into. It served for him as a form of meditation, focusing only on activating and controlling his muscles in sequence. He was stronger too, now. Body weight movements felt as though there was no resistance, with supreme finesse as well. Balance came easily too, as well as stretching. Throughout, his flow kept being interrupted by his massive dangling cock, reminding him of the ravenous thirst that she-demon had placed him under. He finished with a light sheen of sweat feeling none the worse.

Now all there was was to wait to see what she had in store for him. He thought of possibly ambushing her as she entered, though she likely would have the upper hand with the seeming ability to shut his body down. So, he waited. With only her in his mind, his erection sprang to life frustrating Jormuden further. He had just escaped being a pawn, a tool for Selane. There as no way he was going to be some fuck toy for that succubus. He just had to find an opening and take it.

The succubus didn't return for some while. As with the stone chamber, there was little to give Jormuden any sense of the passage of time in her lavish bedchamber. He had long since searched the room from top to bottom for anything helpful but had only found fancy clothing in excessive amounts and various 'womanly' items like perfumes or makeup. All the while, much to his chagrin, his cock remained fully erect demanding his attention. While in control of himself he was able to force himself to ignore it, but within what had to have been several hours his self-denial was bleeding him dry of energy to do so.

Laying back on the bed while keeping his fidgeting hands away, Jormuden strategized. The strange power that had answered his prayers allowed him to seek refuge in his mind for the time being, but seemed to be no longer an option. He'd have to slip back into the haze until she returned for whatever "training" she wanted to put him through and sieze control then. There wasn't much other choice, unfortunately.

Focusing on the seething core in his chest, Jormuden drifted into a meditative state allowing his body to move of its own accord. The stability of the vision shuddered for a fleeting moment as he began to stroke himself, the sensation washing over his mind but receding into the background after a moment. The strange energy seemed to be helping his ability to remain cogent despite the witchery he'd been placed under. All the more reason to figure it out, he reasoned.

Reaching out to the power seemed to be just as natural as reaching out to Selane and her power, as though peering through a thin sheen of water then grabbing hold of something beneath its surface, allowing the current to flow through himself. Had another god taken notice of his situation, or was it something else entirely? He pulled and prodded at the energy, seeing what direction he could draw it towards.

For some time, all that existed was an increasing frenetic tide of the demoness's enchantments attempting to rule his mind, and a warm refuge diverting the battering sea waves around him. It took a moment for Jormudent to consciously register that the woman, the one who presumed to be his mistress, had returned.

Striding into the room, she had changed into an equally stunning dress that seemed to be made of shimmering pleats of gold. Her face lit up with a smirk as she watched him continue to jerk himself off, raising an eyebrow as he continued.

"Don't worry pet, your training is simple. Stop that, and follow your mistress. Follow your mistress."

He stood, placing his hands at his side and taking an unsure pace behind his jailkeeper. 'Mistress' turned, confident her control was complete, beckoning with a finger as she left the room. Stepping through the doorway, Jormuden found himself in an equally ornate, if not as lavishly decorated, stone hallway with occasionally sconces providing a flickering, forboding light. He tried not to notice the sway of her hips, how the fabric stretched and contored her ass as her heels clicked against the pavestones beneath. He knew it wasn't quite the time just yet to strike back, but the temptation to sieze her now, to show her the new power he'd found as he'd dominate the demon that sought to destroy him, listening to her wailing as he pushed her to the floor and tore through the flimsy excuse for clothing she -

Jormuden shook his head. Now was not the time to get distracted. He forced his gaze away, trying to make a mental map of the strange, twisting corridor he followed her through, though his mind idly conjured images of conquest and revenge. Eventually, she stopped and turned to a wall, waving her hand. The stones gave way and turned in, revealing a stark but warmly lit room. Following his captor inside, the rest of the sparse bedroom came into view, a wardrobe standing in one corner with a small desk at the other. Taking the center was a sturdy looking bed, though its occupant was the immedite item that siezed his attention.

A lithe blindfolded woman with burnette hair splayed out on the pillows behind her lay on the bed, one hand playing with her nipples and the other delving into her sopping cunt. Her back was arched, shameless and desperate moans filling the room, with little care for the arrival of the two newcomers. Something about her irked Jormuden.

"What's wrong Toy," the succubus teased.

"And here I thought you'd appreciate your mistress for bringing you your favorite fellow field captain?"

It clicked. The musculature of the bound woman, her face, her voice. His eyes roamed her - very shapely - body, looking for the scars he knew were there. A small slash across the collarbone, where he'd narrowly saved her from a brigand's sword slash. He'd taken looks before, seen her bathe as the company rested for the night, always imaginging this moment. But never in this context.

They'd captured Arinesse. Was the demon just taunting him?

"Oh, she's real alright," her honeyed voice echoed behind him, mixing in with the chorus of wailing as Arinesse continued to play with herself.

The demon pressed herself against his back, the fabric soft to his skin, as his Mistress tangled her arms around him, stroking his aching cock, her voice taking on a note of need.

"She's been so difficult to break, Toy."

Another languid stroke.

"She's holding out hope that her knight in shining armor is going to break in here and save her."

She continued pumping his shaft, pressure building.

"You and your paladins did so much to hurt us. It's only right that you help us, now."

Wait, what? Her other hand cupped his swollen balls.

"You want release so bad, don't you Toy?"

By everything that was holy, when she mentioned it he couldn't help but realize how badly he ached having been teased for hours, days, maybe even weeks now without any break.

"It's simple."

She kissed his nape, growling.

"That slut over there is begging for it. She needs it. She needs you."

Her hands left him.

"Fuck her and you'll get everything you deserve, Toy. Make your mistress happy."

She sauntered around him, grabbing his chin. He stood a few feet taller than her, but couldn't help feeling anything but while in her grasp. She pulled him close, planting a kiss on his lips.

"Let's break her together," she whispered, one hand returning to his crotch as she continued.

Well, fuck. A baser part of him hungered at the notion of having someone he pined after for so long. A worryingly convincing baser part of him thought of having the both of them worshipping him. Heat flashed in the back of his mind, a plan worming itself into his thoughts. Blinking away the tantalizing vision, he let his captor coax him toward the bed with continued lurid promises of debauchery.

Looking again to Arinesse, agaainst his better judgement, Jormuden noticed a strange, pulsating tether attached to shimmering runes on her heaving chest. Just like in that dream, he mused, tracing its ethereal tendrils to the succubus at his side. He too had a tether that came into view if he focused on the heat in his mind, binding him to his Mistress. The binds pulsated with power, flowing with energy as the demoness manipulated their bodies against them. If he focused in on the power, he could almost touch them with his mind. He needed to buy time, something about the tethers seemed as though as much as the demon controlled them, she was also feeding through the tethers off their emotions.

'Mistress' was lining him up to Arinesse's sopping pussy, having exerted the tether to restrain the mewling prisoner's hands away. It took every ounce of power left in his muscles, every fiber of control to drop to his knees instead, the demon's coaxing interrupted for but a moment as she began to knead at his shoulders. Closer now, the scent was intoxicating; a blend of need, desire, and pure unmitigated desperation. He had to taste it. He had to taste her.

Siezing Arinesse's legs and pulling them to his shoulders, he began to lap lazy circles around her with his tongue deliberately avoiding the main dish, teasing, prodding and drawing out louder and louder begging moans from the far fallen Knight Captain.

"You'll... never get me to --"

Arinesse's voice was slightly hoarse, breaking off into a pathetic moan that rang as music to Jormuden's ears. The baser instincts were in full control now trying to draw out a confession from her as his mind feverishly worked at understanding the enchantments binding the two of them to the demon, looking for whatever gap in control he could exploit.

He closed the circles tighter and tighter until eventually flicking over her engorged nub, revelling in her gasp as he began to truly eat Arinesse out. His manhood was practically bouncing, blood coursing through his body, demanding he claim her as he'd so wished for for all these years. Not yet, though. The enchantments, they drew tighter as their sexual frustrations mounted giving the demoness a gushing torrent of energy. At the height of the draw their Misttrress might be able to fully sieze their bodies and minds, but there was something about that moment that nagged at the reasonable thoughts slipping away in the tide of lust.

"I didn't expect you to enjoy tormenting your compatriot, Toy," the demon's voice was hot in his ear, a tinge of breathlessness as though she too was feeling the pleasure, "aren't you supposed to be saving her? The woman you love?"

She was riling him up, and to his chagrin it was working.

"Do you have no shame?"

She pulled his face away from Arinesse, smirking.

"You're stalling, but you don't realize you already lost."

The demon willed him to his feet.

"You belong to me, body and soul."

She cradled his face in her hands, holding him close. The tethers swelled to surging rivers, pouring heat into every single one of Jormuden's pores.

"Look at you scrambling to find a way out, even now. It's almost admirable, but that's not what I need in a Toy."

Did she know? Was it all just a ruse to get his hopes up?

She inhaled deeply, enjoying his panic.

"This was fun Toy, but unfortunately we're out of time to play for now."

What? He had barely a moment to register what she said when the succubus pulled him in for a hungry kiss, silencing a confused yelp.

Energy flooded his body, every pore alight with an electric sensation. Any coherent thought washed away as his heart pumped lava through his veins, his muscles siezing as they contracted with more power than ever. He made a feeble attempt to push away, but she stayed latched to him effortlessly, holding him in a passionate embrace. Her tongue danced in his mouth and he felt his mind melt, a few last coherent thoughts screaming at him a last, final, and near hopeless plan. They too, vanished as he swelled with desire leaving only a husk that wanted nothing more than release, nothing more than to please Mistress.

Mistress pulled away from him, laughing. She seemed exultant, and he beamed. She was happy with him, it was obvious. Mistress pressed herself against his side, and he held her as she recovered from finishing her enchantments on him as a good Toy should. There was another voice calling out, but it seemed distant. Only Mistress mattered to him. She stroked his manhood sending ripples of pleasure coursing up and down his body.

"Mmmh, we'll keep that paladin locked away for another day."

What Mistress was saying didn't make sense to him, but it didn't need to. He focused on the the sound of her voice, her pleasant humming as she worked the blindfold off of a woman tied to the bed. He had eyes only for Mistress though, relishing the curves he was meant to worship. She glanced back at him, amusment pouring through the bond as he blushed having been caught.

"Now, for the main event."

With a tug, Mistress pulled the blindfold away from the woman, who gasped in shock and confusion staring at him.

"Jormuden?"

He blinked in confusion, his raging erection now noticing the potent smell of desire emenating from the woman. She was beautiful, obviously nothing compared to Mistress. Was she another toy of hers?

Mistress laughed as the woman pleaded.

"Please Jormuden! It's me, Arinesse! I know you're in there! Don't let this bitch -"

He stepped forward abruptly, silencing the woman. No one talked about Mistress like that. The woman's pale blue eyes were wide and wavering, a sharp contrast to Mistress's crimson red. Mistress leaned in, whispering to the bound woman.

"What? No, no. He-he would never! Jormuden isn't like that, he's going to break through and save me any second now!"

The woman's voice was mixed tones of confusion tinted with lust, but her words didn't make sense. Who was this Jormuden? He'd save her from what, exactly?

"Toy."

He stood at attention as Mistress stated his name.

"Yes, Mistress?"

The woman froze as he answered.

"Come. This slut right here is your reward for being such a good Toy."

He licked his lips, approaching and beaming with pride. Mistress thought he was good? It was clear what Mistress wanted, and what the woman wanted too. Her body couldn't lie like her voice as he traced the lithe muscles of his reward. Whatever the woman said, it was clear she wanted him, needed him. The frustration pent up in his body sang for release, clamored for him to claim this woman for Mistress. Whispers of another kind echoed in the periphery of his mind as he grabbed her ankles.

"No, please Jormuden. Fight it! Don't let her -"

He pulled, dragging his reward to the edge of the bed and resting her legs against his shoulders, her sopping womanhood begging for him as well. Mistress beamed with pleasure and anticipation through their bond as he dragged his aching cock along the woman's entrance.

"Look her in the eyes, Toy. I want her to see her 'savior' as he breaks her for me."

Pressing the head of his cock against her, he leaned in folding the woman against the bed. Her begging had since turned to breathless whimpering as Mistress's magic overwhelmed her senses, but her eyes remained locked to his fearful and wanting all the same. He waited for Mistress to command him to take her, muscles tremoring as he barely held himself from plunging right into the slut's needful body.

"Oh, I just do love a happy ending. The star-crossed lovers united once again. I bet you didn't expect it to be like this though, slut."

He stole a glance toward Mistress, on the verge of breaking her unspoken command not to take the woman yet, to not break her until she told him to. A strange feeling he couldn't quite place began to bubble to the surface.

"You're doing such a darling job following your Mistress's commands, Toy."

Words threatened to burst from his mouth, as he keened, so precariously close to the release he'd been craving for months now.

"Take her, Toy. Break your lover for me."

There was a moment of quiet, a pause just as he went to fuck the woman senseless. A barely spoken whisper escaped his lips as he locked eyes with the woman, sharing a look with her that they had so many times before.

"Do you trust me, Arinesse?"

The woman's mewls silenced for a moment as she gave the barest of nods.

He pressed, easing his hips toward hers and sliding into Arinesse.

Ecstacy.

Bliss.

And two pulsating tethers going towards his Mistress as she drew on Arinesse's betrayal, on Jormuden's shame and failure. The enchantments formed tight coils as he slid into Arinesse, digging into the both of them and latching onto their souls as their final betrayal exposed them wholly. Jormuden siezed the moment, desperately trying to ignore her tight passage as it gripped him. Arinesse's tether went taut, her body convulsing with pleasure underneath him as the succubus drained his love as he fought against the lashing binds securing themselves around his soul.

He was losing her, losing himself as he strung the delcate maneuver that he didn't know if it was even possible. The demoness lounged onthe other side of the bed, lost in the pleasure of acquiring and devouring yet another soul. She was distracted. Gathering the strange energy where Selane's light once held, he poured it through his tether, trying to distract her with his own soul before Arinesse was lost.

The demon's eyes shot open, staring right into Jormuden's steeled gaze, her face turning with a cruel sneer. He felt a tug then of his soul being pried from himself, his vision narrowing as he strained to both focus on the magic coursing through his body and to keep fucking Arinesse, albeit slowly.

Just one more moment, he thought. It had to work. There was no other choice, as his essence was drawn through the tether toward his would be Mistress. He could see it in his mind as his vision faded, could feel it in his bones as she drew him in. Another moment, just until she finally tasted his soul when she was vulnerable to his newfound powers. Arinesse writhed underneath him, her brief silence overtaken by gasps of pleasure as he drove further into her tight passage, inch by inch.

There. Just as the succubus thought her victory assured, Jormuden put every possible last effort into his plan. With a roar, he tried to sieze her soul, drawing on the strange prayers and power he had seen and felt. Bottoming out in Arinesse with his unreasonably large erection, their hips slapped together as the demon's control began to give way, her bemusement quickly becoming a rictus snarl fighting back against his efforts.

Arinesse ground her hips up at him as he kept her pinned to the bed, the tether a stalemate of wills. It shifted. Again. And again. The demoness's snarl turned to panic as he drank deeply from the tether, siezing the coils meant for him and flinging them back at her. The assault continued, pressing the enchantments back on their wielder and pulling at the demon's core. Energy began to sap into him from the tether and he redoubled his efforts with the new surge of power.

With a snap that was barely audible in the room, it was done. He held in his mind the demon's soul, a fluttering and spindly thing wrapped in chains and runes. The demon slumped to the bed, her energy spent, her chest heaving as she struggled to breathe under the oppressive control.

He'd won.

His breathing came lighter, as though he could feel the tether lift from him, now controlling his former captor. He could feel the bond now, acutely aware of the despair wracking the succubus's inner thoughts, shame and humiliation and thoughts of what he might now do to her, thoughts that Jormuden greatly approved of, desire still oozing from his veins.

Arinesse whined from underneath him, breaking him from his reverie. He could deal with "Mistress" later.

She still had her tether, but it was now bound to him. He could see her thoughts, her mind in his. Arinesse was still in the throes of the succubus's enchantment, in a deep haze of lust and abandon. Jormuden could feel his thoughts shifting in turn, the energy from both the demon and the beyond coloring his soul anew. Arinesse had been reluctant to give in, but much of the desire was of her own, and he couldn't think of that as being anything but fucking hot.

Still keeping her pinned to the bed with her ankles at his shoulders, Jormuden wrapped Arinesse in his arms, entwining their bodies together as he nipped at her neck, breathing heavy.

"You always wanted this," his voice was dark, menacing. As it should be.

"... haven't you? You've always been a slut desperate for somone to put her in her place."

Arinesse gasped as he worked his hands underneath down her back, roughly grabbing her ass. She felt good in his hands, she felt right in his hands. She belonged to him.

"You knew how every man felt about you and you flaunted it, daring someone to show you what a foolish, naive bitch you are."

The words would have rang hollow before. But now, they felt right. He meant what he was saying, and Arinesse's moans were no denial of their truth.

He lifted his hips, sliding out of her before slamming back in, revelling in how she clenched around him as though meant for it. He started a rythym, slowly at first but building in speed and intensity, pulling her into his thrusts as he used Arinesse like the fuck toy she was.

Her moans turned to wails of pleasure as he continued thrusting into her. Grunting, he continued, feeling the energy of her sexual frustration flow into him. He could feel it in her mind, the pressure building up to a final climax but never quite arriving. Arinesse whined, her face twisted in both excstacy and pain realizing that her new master wasn't the knight in shining armor she once knew. The betrayal was a rich, intoxicating flavor flushing Jormuden's cheeks. Little wonder that succubi were addicted to the sensation, he mused, watching his love contort beneath him.

He felt it in her mind as she finally broke, giving in to his ownership of her, her cries becoming enthusiastic as she attempted to thrust back at him still seeking the orgasm she had been riding the edge of for who knows how long.

"Do you want to come, pet?"

Arinesse's eyes shot to his, pale daisy blue irises clouded by denial meeting his. She nodded, out of breath, her body shaking with every thrust.

"Say it."

She hesitated for a moment before drawing a deep breath with difficulty. Her mind was a frantic mess of utmost need pushing out any sense of decency, of what she had worked for so long to build the image of.

It came crumbling down under his ministration, each plap of their hips colliding breaking down the chaste and haughty Knight Captain Arinesse and molding her to his desires.

"Yes..." it came out as a whisper at first.

"Please, let me come Jormuden. Please, please, I'm yours just let me come!"

He dropped his face to hers, locking his lips to hers in a ravenous kiss. He was close, the enchantments formally meant to make her into a demon's sex pet now doing the exact thing for him instead. She kissed him back, passionate as the dam of held back emotions burst between the two.

Jormuden broke away for a moment, leaning to Arinesse's ear.

"Good girl."

He growled, burying himself deep, seeing stars as he climaxed, every cell of his body beaming with power. His lover beneath him clenched around his shaft as he burst within her, their pleasure cascading from their bond to one another. He was in the clouds as her body milked him for every drop, and he could even feel her pleasure of being filled by her lover, her master. His cock continued pumping deep within Arinesse, filling her to the brim with his cum. He thought for a moment of the magic controlling her body, of allowing his seed to plant itself and take root, but decided against it. He could allow Arinesse to carry his child later, there'd be ample opprotunity while fucking her senseless again. For now, he held his prized reward in a tight embrace, relishing in the afterglow.

Slowly, time returned to their senses. Arinesse shifted, still held down, her eyes meeting his before breaking out into a beaming smile.

"Jormuden. Master. I love you"

The Jormuden of the past would have recoiled at being called master, at the total enthrallment of another person, but that was a weaker version of himself. He basked in the adoration and total devotion her eyes and thoughts communicated. Smiling in return, he slowly extracted himself from her overflowing pussy, pulling her in for another kiss. He allowed her legs to fall to the side, pulling her into his lap as he sat up. She snuggled into his chest, and he idly carressed her hair as the cumulative exhaustion overwhelmed her into a deep sleep.

He looked up at the demon, who'd only partially recovered from his siezure of her control. She was hot with desire from watching the two of them fucking, but shied away under his stern gaze. He mused and gauged what to do with her. After thoroughly ruining her, of course.

A slow clap interrupted his thoughts and plans of defiling the succubus, who if was afraid before was absolutely terrified at what she saw on the other side of him. Turning, he caught a tall, broad figure step through the doorway into the room. Stepping into the lit interior a demonic man of immense proportions revealed himself, draped in regal finery and curling horns marked by gold runes. An elder demon, at least. Jormuden tensed, ready to fight as he moved Arinesse to the side. The demon splayed his hands, however, a wicked grin splitting his face before speaking in a booming yet not loud voice.

"Be easy, I mean only to congratulate you."

Jormuden paused for only a moment, his eyes narrowing as the demon continued.

"You've accomplished what few have: siezing what is theirs," the demon gave a pointed look at Arinesse, "This is but a taste of your potential as one of my champions."

Only a taste of the potential? Jormuden could hardly believe there was any stronger to get.

"Your service and devotion to Selane was admirable, but He only saw fit to treat you as a tool, a mere mortal to zealously guard against becoming powerful. He held you back, afraid of what you could become."

Jormuden rose from the bed, standing before the lording demon.

"And what is it you want from me?"

The demon gestured to the bed behind him.

"No more than you've already begun. Take what you desire, live to the fullest extent possible. Of course, give assistance to me and mine in our endeavors, but I think you'll come to find you align more with our interests than you even now realize."

Jormuden paused for a moment, thinking, and the demon spoke.

"Of course, there's little need for you to decide in this moment. Think on it, should you desire to remain as you are we part amicably. However, if you want to reach the highest heights, brave things no other dares to, we offer an open hand. I am Lord Golgerraz envoy of the Great One, invoke my name and I shall be at your side to make terms."

Golgerraz gestured to the demoness who'd remained hidden, now paling at receiving the Demon Lord's attention.

"Felreia here will serve you loyally now that you've claimed her. She can explain the functions of our society and customs, and provide as a delectable toy for your whims."

Felreia blanched, Jormuden sensing her mind scramble for any purchase to avoid her fate as a slave to the one she'd tortured and broken.

"Until you decide, you may roam freely within the halls. I'm but a whisper away."

Golgerraz bowed, invoking some form of magic to fold in on himself and disappear.

Jormuden turned to his former tormentor, sadistic glee building inside his chest.

"What should we start with, Toy?"