Hunted [open for one female, details within]

[Svenski]

"I'm here, Danni," Marcus tells her, calm and totally assured, "And I'm staying here, never fear." He smiles, almost chuckles, finding her concern endearing. Struck by an idea, he lets her settle back into the seat, still loosely holding her with one arm. The other he slips between them and crooks a finger gently under her chin.

"Look at me, Danni." He urges her eyes open, wipes away her tears of relief and happiness. "See, there, now really look at me. Remember how I look, how I feel. Hold that in your mind." His confidence offers her a strong guiding hand as he encourages her, "There, got that? Now close your eyes and just hold that picture of me in your mind. Now if I should be out of sight you can close your eyes and see me there and know that I'll be back as soon as I can. That I'm always coming back and that I always want to be here." He strokes her cheek, "With you, Danni."

His thick shaft lies soft inside her, soaked in the mingling of their juices. Spent, he is still very reluctant to withdraw from her, enjoying their post-coital closeness accentuated by continued physical contact.

 

[_kyrie_]

His touch under her chin brought her glistening eyes to his. The love she saw there nearly stopped her heart. She listened closely to his words, innately trusting in his wisdom, his courage and his strength.

She gazed upon him for a moment longer before closing her eyes, sealing the beautiful picture he made still atop her within her mind, where she could keep it safe and protected always.

Danni opened her eyes and lifted her face to his, one hand curled behind his neck, urging his lips to hers. She loved his kiss. She loved his body. She loved him beyond all else. Danni moved slightly beneath him and felt him still buried in her womanhood. She had never dreamed it could be like this between a man and a woman. She could lay here forever with him buried deep in her canal and complain not once.

 

[Svenski]

Still thick from their shared release, his demon lazily taunts, <Happy, Marcus my love? Does her young cunnie feel good around your cock? Do her words and touches make you feel all warm inside? It won't last, you know... it won't last.> His lips pause gently against Danni's just long enough for him to push the she-demon's presence to the back of his mind then he pays that infernal creature no further heed. Just words on the wind, no more substantial than that. Just words on the wind...

Marcus settles his forehead lightly on Danni's, smiling contentedly. "I would stay right here, like this, for hours if I could." He chuckles slightly, "But the rug is a little skinny and my belly knows there's stew over the fire." He grins to her, nuzzles her nose with his, an action that seems completely at odds with his rough power. "Shall I fetch you some food, Danni?"

He watches her, both for her reply and to see her expression as he slowly withdraws from the warm wetness between her legs. He cannot help but wince in exquisite loss as his member falls from her, now slack, coated with the juices of their lovemaking. He lets her settle back into the sofa, sliding his hands over her flanks then slowly down the front of her legs to settle on her knees. He drinks her in once more, the simple sight of her young and beautiful body, but he does not give voice to the wonder he feels at her presence, not just here in the flesh but in his life at all, never mind her apparent love for him. How could such come to pass in such an unlikely situation? It might almost make one believe in fate.

 

[_kyrie_]

Danni stretched beneath Marcus, then moaned softly. A whimper really, as his manhood slipped from within her. She felt empty without him inside her, but his soft, gentle touch combined with the pressure of his forehead against hers; eased her from the pain of the physical separation.

She ran her hands down his chest, reveling in the feel of his rippling muscles so tightly bound beneath his skin. His shoulders were huge, no doubt from his years of fighting and training. Danni brought one of his large hands to her lips, kissing the pad of each finger gently and individually before laying it upon her flat stomach.

"I am hungry as well Marcus. You captured dinner, please allow me to serve you?"

Her eyes shone with the light of his love and hers combined. For a brief moment, she thought she glimpsed the Demon move within his bright eyes, but it was gone so quickly, she gave it not another thought.

 

[Svenski]

Marcus smiles warmly, "I'd like that very much, Danni."

They share food and warmth, exchange words and smiles and touches, all within the seclusion of the cottage in the summer pasture. Their new-found love for each other, so fresh and delicate, intoxicates them into a sense of universal tranquillity. Yet the air outside is chill with the imminent onset of winter and something more icy and sinister from the city of Sessalie.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Bells had sounded, guards dispatched and further and further the elder demon's minions infiltrated the court and command of the centre of the small yet prosperous Kingdom. But rain had masked their escape, washed away their trail and scent, leaving guards chasing around in the trees finding only confusion and dismay. The one shepherd who might have shared his knowledge of their passing was spooked by all the activity but somehow felt the rightness in the Crown Princess' departure and so spoke to no one of what he saw. Instead, he cowered in his tiny home praying for a brighter dawn.

One, two, three, even four days later, the demon's minions still have not discovered the Demon Hunter and the Crown Princess. In a new form, now Captain of the City Guard, the same servant demon that made Danni's uncle Jobe dance like a puppet answers to its master for continued failure to find them. In another circumstance, the servant might have been torn to pieces for letting her escape but the master knows it knows the scent of the Princess and her rescuer and still has some need for it. Torn from the body of the Guard Captain, the servant is fashioned in a new form, all wings and teeth and claws, the colour of wet sand, leathery, lithe and deadly. It takes to the air, screaming its eternal gratitude to its master for sparing its worthless existence, and with renewed vigour it hunts the skies for their pair of escapees.

Just before daybreak on the fifth day of their escape, the winged servant, now a monster in the flesh, spies a small cottage secluded high in the summer pastures and its wide nostrils flicker, catching some hint of that which it seeks. It circles overhead, silent, eyes glowing like hot embers in some infernal furnace. It realises that the occupants must be sleeping, unaware of its presence, so it lazily spirals downwards, almost invisible in the pre-dawn murk of the sky 'til it lightly lands just a few feet from the cottage. Its taloned feet clack quietly as it steps stealthily up to the door. Its nostrils flare; their scent is unmistakable, filling the air with their human stench, a mix of body odours and sexual fluids. There is no sign from within that they have noticed its arrival, nor are aware of its imminent attack. It bares its teeth, wicked razor fangs in two wide rows, nightmarish to behold, then rips the door off its hinges as though it were made of paper and bursts into the room, scanning eagerly for its prey...

... miles away, Marcus shivers with a chill that goes beyond the damp of their cold camp and he knows that a more threatening pursuer has found some part of their trail. In the darkness, he reluctantly wakes Danni and sets them back on their path east, away from Sessalie, away from the demon and its hunting monster.

They pass two villages, each a place they might find shoes for Danni, food for themselves and their horses, even an hour or two of warmth. Each time, guards with horses and hounds are already there, asking questions, keeping watch, looking for them. None of these men are thralls but their orders are all the same: bring the Crown Princess back alive and with haste. They both know that this cannot be allowed to happen so each time they slip back into the trees and keep on their way.

A day of travel, then two, and still no respite. The only saving grace is that the first days of winter are unseasonably warm, holding back the snow. Not that unseasonably warm makes a cold camp in the damp of the forest any more palatable, certainly not for a Princess unused to privation. Marcus does as he always does and digs in, hunkers down, and bares the cold. But each passing hour he sees her tire or find some new way to be sore. He tries to comfort her, to make light of it, to sympathise, to help, but denied any respite and lacking even some basic supplies his ability to relieve her suffering is slight. At night, he holds her to him, letting her sleep across him, draw warmth and comfort from his body. Each morning, he wakes with a new crick or kink but he says nothing of them, just grimaces when he thinks she isn't looking.

By the third day, Marcus has run out of ways to make things seem light. He has only the knowledge that if they push on, keep moving, they may make Bridgewater before the day is out. At first he tries to be encouraging but by mid-morning he finds he has only the energy to keep them moving forward. For hours he is completely silent, just marching inexorably forward. It is in this mode it becomes apparent how he has survived so long; it is not through speed or strength or even fortitude, but a deep set bloodymindedness to never give up. As the sun starts to set, his face is set in a mask of pain: tired, wet, cold, hungry and sore all over. Even as the lights of Bridgewater come into view he does not lighten, just sets one foot in front of the other; he stopped riding on the second day, when he realised that no food was forthcoming and that Danni would need to use each horse in turn in the absence of real shoes.

Bridgewater, a town straddling the river Nid, just a half mile up from the estuary. Smaller ships can sail all the way up to the town, but larger vessels moor up the coast and take advantage of the men and donkeys from the town's hauliers. The town is surrounded by a small stockade with two gates on either side of the river. Within, the town is a warren but conforms roughly to the shape of a wheel, with spokes running from each gate to the centre where there is a market square and the large stone bridge that gives Bridgewater its name.

A place of strategic importance, Bridgewater makes its living as place of commerce and transit. Sat right on the edge of the Kingdom of Sessalie and technically within the Kingdom's jurisdiction, it treats itself as being largely independent and it is not uncommon for people from all over to be at least temporarily resident within her walls. As such, the market square is surrounded by numerous Inns of differing qualities, from the grandiose King's Cellar to the squalid Rat and Pickle.

Farmers and late travellers file in through the gate as the last light of the day disappears below the horizon. A pair of extremely bored town watchmen stand by the gate but they barely pay anyone any heed. One gives Marcus a brief look, such a towering man leading an impressive yet poorly tended black horse, but Marcus' expression causes him to shiver and turn back to his dull conversation with his colleague. Neither gives Danni a second look, wrapped up as she is, and damp and unkempt from days in the forest.

Silently, Marcus marches onwards towards the town centre, lacking even the presence of mind to do anything except keep moving forward. Shelter. Warmth, shelter and food. Anything, everything else optional.

 

[_kyrie_]

Danni grows more and more exasperated with Marcus as he continues to treat her as though she were made out of spun glass. His continual refusal to ride one of the horses exacerbates their situation even further. She knows he is tired and hungry and sore.

He insists, literally demands that she sleep atop him at night; as though a bit of hard, damp ground might injure her or worse, make her ill. No amount of words would convince him otherwise. The first few days she tried to conjole him, tease him out of this self-imposed, self-sacrificing behavior. By the fourth day, she began to feel his exhaustion as well as his inner anger at his inability to provide for her.

Again and again Danni tried to prove to him that she was more than just a title, a porcelain figurine placed on the top shelf to be looked at, touched once in a while but then put back in place for safe keeping. Never truly being useful to anyone for anything. This thought spurred Danni's anger even further.

How dare he treat her like this after everything they had been through together? Hadn't she been the one to save his life after he took a Demon's sword through his side? Hadn't she been cooking and caring for him, even grooming him whenever possible only to be treated like so much useless silk her attendants were forever trying to foist off on her?

The last day had been the worse one so far. Marcus would not even respond to her. She spoke to him but it was as if he were not there. His body was there, trudging along, pulling the horses, moving things out of their way with his brute strength; but Marcus the man seemed to have gone hiding somewhere within that massive body of his.

And this fact made her mad too. They stopped in an alley way for a moment, Danni slid down off of her horses back to face Marcus.

"Marcus, where are we going? What are doing? We need to stop. You need food and rest." His eyes were distant, glazed and unresponsive.

Danni tried to keep the lid on her ire clamped down but failed miserably. Moving towards him, his great height towering over her she poked his chest with her small pointer finger.

"Marcus, look at me. Where are you? We need... " She poked his chest to underscore each of her words, "Marcus! Marcus!"

She lost her temper finally and stomped the ground in anger. The stomp brought a cry of pain to her lips just as her finger prodded his chest one last time. Looking down at her sore instep, she failed to notice the dark swirling in Marcus' eyes.

 

[Svenski]

He stands in darkness trying to gather his thoughts. They have a tiny quantity of money, perhaps enough to find somewhere to stay for a single night, but he knows they need to stretch it much further than that. His instinct for survival runs deep, though, and he's no stranger to this situation, at least not as far as it extends to him.

He knows how to forage, which he has done as they've travelled over the past days. He also knows how to requisition what he needs; another might just call it stealing but his attitude is more that of an invader than a thief, taking what he needs by force if necessary. Yet, somehow, he's reluctant to wrap Danni up in that dirty business. She deserves better, he knows, and he wants to provide that for her. He wonders if he can find her somewhere to sleep allowing him time to do what he needs to do but he's in the middle of this thought when his reverie is broken by her finger jabbing in his chest.

He becomes aware that she's been saying things to him and her fury is painted over her giving a lustre to her hair, despite its damp, matted and tangled briar, that he only sees when she is angry. His chest hurts where she jabbed him; not a significant pain, on the scale of damage, but it takes on a special significance when its delivered by someone you know, someone you love. After a fashion, it hurts all the more that it was done by her. He realises she is furious at him. Can't she see that he's done everything he can to get her this far, avoiding pursuit, keeping her as comfortable as humanly possible given their circumstances. His own anger ignites.

<What a spoilt little girl she is,> his demon goads, <Stamping her foot, demanding your attention. Yes Princess. No Princess. Right now, Princess. Like you're a lap dog, a trophy she has claimed. See my big strong Marcus. See how manly he is. His cock is bigger than yours and I get it in my cunnie every night just the way I like it.> Devious, malicious, destructive, the she-demon stokes his anger, turns it against them both, <She likes rough treatment. See how she came when you slapped her about in the cabin? She loves it and she's just taunting you now, throwing it in your face. See all you've done for her? She just takes you for granted. She doesn't want your love, she wants your obedience. Foolish Marcus, thinking that this slut really loves you. She just loves your cock in her pussy, your teeth on her nipples... it's all a game to her, all a game...>

His head reels and he feels his control slipping. It has been slipping for the past day, each mile requiring a little more from him, each distant sound of baying hounds adding pressure to their escape. Can she be so unaware of how hard he has had to push them just to stay free? That and he knows that somewhere behind them there is a real monster on their trail.

Food, warmth, shelter. Nothing else. He fights for control. Just stay on mission. Food, warmth, shelter. Growling, low, even threatening, "Get back on your horse. Now." Just do it, he wills her. Don't fight me now.

In his mind he wishes her, "Just get on the horse and let me get us to somewhere we can dry off, warm up and get something to eat. Then I can fix the rest of it. Just do it, Danni. Just do as I say." But all that projects to Danni is a crushingly intense stare, demanding her immediate compliance.

 

[_kyrie_]

Danni bristled with anger, her whole body shook with it. She opened her mouth to protest, even backed away slightly until she saw the swirling in his eyes and recognized the unspoken plea. This was the she-demon witch, egging him on, urging him in his weariness to let go his strong hold over it and his own body.

She moved back towards him, allowing him to help her back onto her tired horse. Her hand rested on the pummel, the light flickering from the nearby Tavern glistened off the small ring adorning her right hand.

"Marcus, wait." He had already turned his back to lead the horses back onto the dingy street.

"We need to find a pawn shop. There is a way and then we can eat, rest and still have enough to see us through if we're lucky."

She removed the small, filigree ring from her right hand. The ruby within the setting was small but exquisite. The gold itself was some of the purest in the land and, it was obviously ancient. She had been told that magic had been used to forge her great-grandmother's ring and in truth, it often did feel warm against her skin. Marcus need not know that however, he need only know its monetary value.

"Here, take this Marcus. Did you notice a jeweler or pawn merchant on the way into town?" She had kept her head low and head covered by her hood, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.

 

[Svenski]

Complication! Why does she have to make it so complicated? He is struggling already with the otherwise simple matter of finding them somewhere to sleep, somewhere warm, dry and preferably with some food for them and the horses. Anything else is just confusion, just distraction, something between him and his goal. He feels his ability to be rational being squeezed out by the building maelstrom in his mind, a swirling black tornado that watches him with hunter's eyes.

He knows he needs to ground this soon or it'll come out on its own, without any choice of direction or circumstance. The backs of his hands ache and burn all through to the tips of his fingers; it is as if his hands are gloves and a taloned appendage is being thrust inside without him being allowed to withdraw first. He wishes for something to hurt and knows that it is an infernal wish. Not much time left.

He wheels on her without meaning to, a faint dark mist clinging to his hands, his jaw locked with strain. Between gritted teeth, eyes narrowed to slits, he hisses at her, "I can... only just hold... hold this in. Shelter, warmth, f... food." He pulls a small leather money pouch from his clothes, just a few coins in the bottom. He thrusts it into her hands, pushing her offering back at her. "You," he tells her, unequivocally and somewhat cryptically. "You do it." Then he pivots away from her and starts to stride, rigidly, from the alley in the direction of one of the cheaper inns.

 

[_kyrie_]

Danni pulled back from Marcus quickly. He was barely there, she was close to controlling him again. Danni should be frightened, terrified even. Yet, her only thought was getting through this so she could have her Marcus back, whatever it took. Danni watched as he strode purposefully towards the Inn before she looked back down at the delicate ring.

She could not give away her identity by regaling any buyer with the history of the ring; but even the most simple-minded merchant would be able to determine its worth from just glance.

Danni followed Marcus to the Inn, having set a course in her mind. A small boy, barely nine years old stepped up to care for their horses. He seemed completely undaunted by the size of Midnight, Danni felt secure in leaving them with him.

"Hello, Lad. If you would kindly see to grooming our very tired horses and feeding them your best feed, I will reward you most kindly come morning. Do you understand young Sir?"

She gifted the little man with her warmest smile, to which he responded enthusiastically, bobbing his head up and down quickly before taking both horses to the stables just behind the boisterous Inn.

Danni wished she were more presentable looking, but there was nothing to be done for it at the moment. She entered the Inn, noticing the dining, drinking area was off to the side and seemed to be doing quite a lucrative business this evening. Behind the counter sat a very portly man, his hair completely white but sporting a pair of the most shrewd eyes she had ever seen. She could tell he was assessing her already, determining the cost of the room he thought she and Marcus could afford. What he determined she had no way of knowing, and was not going to wait to find out. She launched into her story without waiting for an introduction.

"My pardon Sir. My husband and I seek shelter and food. We have been on the road for many nights. Our home was ransacked and burned by bandits several weeks ago, we are trying to get to Red Lachen but have run short of funds. I have these," Dannie poured out two coins from the sac Marcus had handed her; having taken out the other three and put them away on her person for safekeeping.

"I realize it is not enough for food and shelter. But," she removed the gold filigree ring dramatically from her hand, "I have this. It is worth far more than a night or two in an Inn but my husband is exhausted and his health and welfare mean so much more to me than a ring that is said to have been forged by Fairies and holds magical qualities. Might you give us shelter and food for a day or two, in exchange for this ring kind Sir?"

Danni gave him her most innocent, caring and warm smile. Never having been one to use feminine wiles on anyone, she was unsure if she were doing it correctly. She worried for a moment, until she realized, every word she had spoken had been true and honest.

She waited while he examined the beautiful ring, holding it up to the light, turning it this way and that before pocketing it.

"Nay Lass. I'll not be giving you room and board for one night nor two nights. This ring is worth more than this entire Inn is in itself. You and your husband take this key, go up those stairs and turn right. At the very end of the hall is a room, nice big one that has a warm fire burning it by now. That be your room 'til the end of the week, should you want it. I'll have the boy bring up some hot water for your baths, when your ready, come down and the wife'll have some dinner waiting for you."

His eyes twinkled as she smiled. Without thought, Danni leaned over the old, wooden counter and placed a very thankful kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you ever so much Sir. I am sure your kindness will be repaid thrice fold soon."

Unknowingly, Marcus watched the exchange from the darkest corner of the entrance way, his swirling eyes growing darker and darker by the minute.

 

[Svenski]

Buried in his stained and dirty travelling cloak, Marcus eyes the occupants of the inn, the shadows in his hood all the deeper from the blackness accruing there. He pays Danni's conversation with the Inn Keeper little heed. Indeed, the patter of their words annoys him, such light tones, so polite. It is all he can do to hold himself in check, to not break something or someone just to relieve the incredible pressure inside his head.

His eyes snap back and forth. <See, that one there? He looked at her. He wants her. He's just thinking what it'd be like to shove his cock into her wet snatch. Yes, and that one in the back. He thinks he can take you, take her from you. See that blade at his belt? Show him how to use it, my love. Shove it into his belly and swirl it around. For me, my love, for me. Show me you love me still.> An endless litany of hate and anger, of murderous intent mixed with lascivious want. She whispers to him, stokes his fury, drowns out his thought and replaces it with a burning need for release.

The one in the back, a paunched and balding merchant with a simple dagger at his belt, is eating his dinner, blissfully unaware that Marcus stares daggers -- nay, not merely daggers, but spears -- into him. Marcus sees himself cross the room, leaping in animalistic rage to plough into the man. He takes his first step, readying himself for the rush, but then a hand is on his arm. He flinches, as though shocked by some electrical charge, and his eyes snap onto the one who seeks to get between him and his prey. Who dares...?

It is Danni, trying to lead him away, lead him upstairs. It is only his love for her that stays his hand though for a moment he can only hold himself rigid, an arrow nearly loosed and yet held back at the last. But she pulls on him, urgent, and his feet remember how to follow. He does not see the stained wooden stair, nor the faded russet carpet that lines the centre of the hall. He pays the flicking lamps no heed, nor looks at the threadbare tapestry of hounds hunting in a wood that hangs over one wall. As Danni presses the door to their room closed, he sees only the fire, that raw energy of destruction, and he fixates on its lambent power.

 

[_kyrie_]

She felt his trembling tension the moment she lay her hand on his huge arm. His muscles were bunched, ready for battle. She knew not what had caught his attention but she was sure she knew why. It was that she demon and she nearly had her talons completely embedded in him now.

Danni said not a word, only looked up at him with her eyes glistening in the firelight, urging him to follow her with a look. She smiled warmly, keeping her eyes on his until she turned, her small hand slipping into his to lead him behind her. She was so tired, her legs barely made it up the stairs. She could not imagine how he must be feeling, having walked by his own command, for so many miles.

The hallway seemed inordinately long, going on forever before she came to the room the Tavern owner and described. There was in fact, a large fire burning to the side, the coals blue with heat and flame. Danni pulled Marcus into the room and closed the door firmly behind them. He stood so still, starring into the roaring blaze. He needed to eat, to bath, to rest.

She remembered his words from their first night and shivered, for the first time with a small remembrance of fear and foreboding.

"If I don't ground this she-bitch soon, I won't have a choice in the matter ... so you decide right now... "

Danni moved towards him slowly, speaking his name very quietly, repeating it over and over again. Whether she was offering comfort to him or to herself, she knew not, she only knew that she had to do this thing to bring him back to her.

"Marcus?" She lay her small hand on his arm, trying to turn him towards her.

"Marcus? What is it ... you need? What, do you want this night my Love?"

Her voice trembled, her body shook; but whether with anticipation or fear? She knew not the answer to this question either.

 

[Svenski]

In his mind, Marcus is battled into a corner. All around, darkness floods forward. Every life he has taken takes form in the inky blackness, another sadistic soldier added to the she-demon's mental army. Every wrong he has left unbalanced and unanswered lends weapons to their insubstantial hands. The onslaught is relentless and he is long overspent on his own energies. Too little food, too harried, too tired, the remaining candle flame of his resistance is smothered and he is left alone in the black, ceding control of his body 'til the infernal powers he has drawn on can release and ground.

A prickly black mist washes over her fingers as they touch his arm as though grasping a rough metal file or a handful of blunt nails. That would be her only warning and not heeded sufficiently quickly or with deliberate enough attention for her to avoid what follows.

His other hand snaps up and grabs her throat and forces her rapidly against the wall, knocking the wind out of her. His fingers tighten pinching her airway, not so far as to crush but easily sufficient to hold back a desperately needed gulp of air. He swats her hands away as they try to intervene and he presses his heavy frame close against her chest. In a voice that lacks any of the compassion of the man he hisses into her ear, "I'm going to fuck you like a dog, little bitch." His cock, through his damp clothing, presses into her hip, hard, angry and ready to break her. "But first, I'm going to hurt you and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

He withdraws from her ear, still gripping her throat tightly, to look her in the eye from just a few short inches away. His expression is feral, violent, looking for her fear.

 

[_kyrie_]

Her hands clawed at his arms, like solid rods of steel where they held her against the wall. She had no time to scream or to prepare, his switch to that she-bitch was so total and complete. Danni had such little experience with it and the state Marcus was now in, she could not have known to what extent the evil lay just beneath his surface and how close he was to loosing his hold over it.

No scream passed her lips, his grip was too tight; the force of her hitting the wall stole all the breath from her. Her chest hurt with the effort and although she tried to hide her fear, not of Marcus but of that which controlled him now, her eyes betrayed her. Very wide and green, nearly bulging from lack of oxygen, she could only hang helplessly by his hand. Though not Marcus, not in truth, this was still his huge form, his muscles stronger than most men's forged in battle after battle against that which now controlled him. She knew he could hurt her, or more specifically, the she-demon which now held him hostage could and would hurt her easily with his strong body.

She tried to conjure the picture of him he had forced her to memorize earlier, but she couldn't find it as she writhed and fought for air. This was not Marcus, not her Marcus. This was the she-demon that Danni had sworn to rid him of somehow, someday.

Her thoughts returned quickly to the hand around her throat.

"I'm going to fuck you like a dog, little bitch." His cock, through his damp clothing, presses into her hip, hard, angry and ready to break her. "But first, I'm going to hurt you and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

Danni tried to prepare herself, mentally for what was to come. This was Marcus, she believed in her heart that he would and could prevent the witch from causing her mortal harm. She knew also in her heart, that before that moment came, she had to prepare herself to be able to accept and endure until Marcus was able to fight his way back to the surface.

Raising her head just a bit, unable to move more than that, Danni spat at the she-demon in anger, hissing through her teeth with barely enough breath to be heard.

"He is mine now, you are nothing but a memory. An ugly memory that taunts him because you can no longer have him. Not his body, his mind nor his love, not really. One day,"

Danni gasped as the grip grew tighter, nearly crushing her throat, "I ... will ... rid... him of ... you." The darkness began to envelope her from all sides, she willed herself not to loose consciousness, to endure as she knew he would endure for her.

 

[Svenski]

His mouth curls into a snarl, teeth bared, "And what can you do, little girl? What can you really do to me? Can you hurt this shell, this fleshy armour I wear? Can you kill this man? That's what it'll take. Hurt him. Kill him. Then he'll be free of me and I of him. But you're weak. Weak and ignorant of this world he lives in. We live in. I've kept him alive, kept him whole and kept his cock sated in many a slut's gaping cunt." His face presses close but he is not present in his own eyes. Instead, darkness glares at her, a deeper black than the world's fading due to asphyxiation. "Sluts. Like. You."

He watches her world fade then, just before she loses herself he pivots and flings her bodily across the room and onto the luscious bed. The world rushes back to her in great, heaving gasps. He gives her no respite, though, and he is on her again. He pushes her onto her front, forcing her into the bed as he wrestles her arms behind her. The first is easy, crooked and pinned behind her back but the second is always where the real struggle begins. Weakened, still recovering, she is no match for his raw strength. Both arms pinned parallel behind her by one powerful hand, he unbuckles his belt and runs it round her wrists, binding both arms together in turn upon turn of thick, supple leather. He releases her just to buckle the belt closed, twisting her wrists so they are locked tightly together, cruelly, painfully so.

"There," he hisses, rising from the bed to let her squirm her way as pleases her, at least for a moment, "how does it feel to be made so defenceless, little slut? Frightening? Paralysing?" He watches her flinches of pain, her ragged breaths, and he smiles wickedly, enjoying each emotion. "Are you ready, then, bitch? Ready to be hurt?" He doesn't wait for an answer and reaches down to pull her towards him by the front of her shirt. "And don't scream 'cause if you do then guards will come and they might hurt poor Marcus, here, and you wouldn't want that, would you?" He taunts her, then slaps her soundly across the face. "Would you, bitch?"

 

[_kyrie_]

She would not allow his, her words to hurt her. The thought, the knowledge that there had been others before her that had been forced to suffer this was more painful than any physical damage the she-demon could inflict on Danni. Her mind told her that the she-witch was doing this intentionally and to disregard it, her heart however, failed to listen and seemed to shrivel a bit at the cruel taunts.

Danni fought to keep from passing out, but the darkness was gathering around her eyes, only small bits of light were left that let her focus on Marcus' eyes. Not Marcus eyes truly, but hers, the demon's. In that instant, it occurred to Danni that this she-demon could not nor was she ever interested in Marcus for Marcus. Their love had been false, at least the she-demon's had been. Maybe, years before she met Marcus, the woman that was now the she-demon had been a good, pure person. But that woman of long ago had invited the she-demon into her soul, welcomed her into her body and with that knowledge, Danni gained strength and lost a bit of her fear.

Danni's forehead smacked the post of the old bed just before Marcus landed behind her, flipping her over to pull her arms behind her back harshly. Danni winced and then cried out as her shoulders were pulled so forcefully behind her, the leather biting into her small wrists, pressing the tiny bones together, nearly snapping them by the forced twist of his hand. She bit her tongue trying not to respond to the fear and pain, knowing it only fed the demon within him.

For a moment, a very short moment she thought she was free, only to realize that the demon was playing with her, with her emotions. She cried out when his hands jerked her around to face him, again reaching for that loving picture she had forged in her memory. The picture faded as her shirt ripped down the front of her chest, displaying her small, well formed breasts.

Hard as she tried, she knew the fear was evident in her eyes. The she-demon was much more experienced at this game than Danni and Danni had no way of knowing how to combat it nor how to defend herself. The slap sent her spiraling across the bed, bringing the darkness close again. Her ears rang, the slap nearly dislocating her jaw with it's power.

Danni whined slightly, trembling violently. She fought the urge to cry but his towering form over her frightened her more than she had been willing to admit. The tears began to flow even as she kicked out at Marcus' huge form.

 

[Svenski]

The demon in Marcus' body knocks Danni's kicking legs out of the way, twisting just enough to make it hard for her to keep up the motion. "Tut tut," his voice says, mocking, "Surely you don't want to hurt your beloved? It'd be a shame to damage him, wouldn't it? Besides, what if he didn't forgive you for hurting him? Wouldn't that be terrible, heart-achingly miserable? Hmm?" The more the demon speaks with his mouth, the nastier his tone becomes, toying with her, looking for emotional hooks to hurt her with.

"Anyhow," the demon continues, "it's certainly not nice to be kicking and struggling so, is it?" He grabs one flailing ankle and drags her towards the edge of the bed as if she were nothing more than a doll to be pushed and pulled as he pleases. He twists about so that he can sit on the side of the bed and pulls her legs over his lap 'til her midriff is over his knees, face down, bottom up. He idly checks his binding of her hands, admiring his handiwork. "And if you're not nice, Danni, then what are you? Hmm?" One hand holds her body down onto his lap while the other traces feathery lines over her clothed thighs with his finger tips, then up onto her buttocks; such a delicate touch, almost tickling without necessarily meaning to be that way.

He doesn't give her any time to come up with a response, "If you're not nice, you're naughty, aren't you Danni. And naughty girls are punished." Somehow, Marcus' voice seems just a shade lighter, even a touch effeminate, "Mmm, I love punishing naughty girls." His hand flattens against her buttock then, without warning, he quickly shifts to grab the waist band of her borrowed trousers and pull them down over the soft flesh of her small bottom. His hand draws back and he hisses, bitter, vicious, "Cry for me, little bitch, but don't you dare scream or I'll make you regret it." Then his hand slaps downwards onto her bare bottom, first one cheek, then the other, four, five, six times. On each strike, he makes a little excited squealing noise that is so out of character for him that one might almost think someone else is in the room with them, but with each squeal his thick member presses up into her belly through his pants.

As suddenly as he started, he stops and rubs the flat of his hand over her stinging derriere, "See, wasn't hat fun, little Danni? Didn't you just love that?"

 

[_kyrie_]

Her entire body shuddered with each strike. Each one seemingly harder and sharper than the one before it. Danni bit into the quilt that had bunched up beneath Marcus' thigh. She would not and could not scream. To do so would bring others and they would not understand. They would take her Marcus, believing him to be a beater of women. Her mind screamed at her, "Well, isn't he?" She replied within her mind, "No! Never, this is not Marcus, Marcus would never do this!"

The repeated slaps jarred her against his legs. His maleness, the part of him she loved to feel deep within her body, pressed into her hip threateningly. She would not fear it, she would not fear him. Yet, she knew she did. Not him but that which controlled him and so, controlled her.

The quilt between her teeth was soaked with her saliva and silent tears. She would not give the she-bitch the satisfaction of crying out, of crying aloud. She felt her small bottom swell beneath his hand, the skin burning as though fire ran across the skin. The last strike jarred her spine, sending shock waves throughout her body. A small gasp and whine slipped from between her clinched teeth, making Danni angry.

She writhed on his lap, listening as his voice rose to a nearly unrecognizable pitch. Somehow, this made it easier to bear. Made it easier to believe this was not Marcus doing this. As suddenly as they had started, the stinging slaps stopped to be replaced by the caress of his big hand. The ultrasensitive skin shrank from his touch. Danni tried to push away from him, using the balls of her feet against the headboard, but his strong grasp stopped her before she moved even a mere inch.

 

[Svenski]

"Awwww, poor little girl. Does that hurt, Danni love?" His voice is thick with sarcasm as he grasps her bound arms, preventing her attempt to squirm away. "Would you like me to stop hurting you now? Would you like stupid Marcus to come back and comfort you, make it all better?" The she-demon taunts her and even pauses a moment to let her answer but Danni seems to be so busy biting back her pain and anger that she does not take the opportunity to reply. Perhaps she thinks there is no reply really wanted?

Whatever the case, the demon leaves just enough of a gap so that Danni realises she could have said something, perhaps, but not long enough to let her get herself together and reply. No, that would be too kind. Maliciously gleeful, he declares, "Silence? You must be enjoying this then! Oh what delicious fun to finally have found a willing pain slut. Well, little pain slut, here's more of what you so dearly enjoy." The demon chuckles, a terrible yet musical note in Marcus' bassy voice, then he slaps her buttocks again, three times on each side in quick succession.

Then another pause. His hand holds back, just out of reach, as her small, firm bottom scorches red with his treatment of it. Quiet but exceptionally clear, he tells her, "Perhaps that'll teach you to answer my questions, little bitch. Hmm? Now thank me for spanking you and ask me to do it again. And don't try to weasel round it or I'll find some new way to hurt you. And believe me, I've been hurting girls like you for longer than either of you have been alive, and I really enjoy it. So, thank me. And ask for more. Convincingly."

 

[_kyrie_]

She would not be humiliated. She could endure much, but not the humiliation.

"I'll.. never.... beg... you ... for anything..." Danni cried out as he struck her again and again. "Never....."

Again he hit her, enjoying her cries and the way her breath caught in her throat as she tried to speak, to answer as he demanded.

She felt his hand hovering just above her swollen skin. She knew it was so swollen it would split at any moment, the blood filling and pooling the area just beneath her skin. Even the cool air stung her now. His hands were so big and so strong they easily turned her pink bottom into a mass of dark blue bruises and red welts.

Still, the she-demon paused, waiting for her to beg, plead for more. Danni opened her mouth, but no sound came forth. She tried again,

"Marcus, please?"

But no further words would come through. Danni tried but could not form the words the she-demon demanded.

 

[Svenski]

Marcus' voice whines nasally back at her, in parody of her plea, "Marcus, please... please hurt me more, Marcus. Make me cry, make me beg, I'm just a slut, Marcus, just a pain loving slut." His voice shifts back to the snarl that seems to be so natural to the demon, "Is that what you wanted to say? 'Cause that's what I heard, bitch. But I think I've had fun with your beautiful red bottom..."

So saying, he flips her around and about, handling her slight frame easily, 'til her arms are beneath her and her torn shirt hangs open, pert breasts in full view. His eyes swirl black, appraising her bosom with lecherous appreciation. He kneels beside her on the bed, one knee by her hip and the other across her lap, pinning her to the bed once more. Almost tenderly, he slips a hand behind her head. His thumb massages the nape of her neck, exactly as Marcus had done just a few nights ago. Soothing, he says, "There there, Danni. Is it good to have your bottom out of harm's way? I know it hurts but at least it's not being spanked any more, is it?"

The demon cannot help herself, though, and between the soothing words and the sudden calm and gentle treatment a wicked grin starts to form. "You know why, though, don't you, Danni my love?" His massaging fingers twist and grip into her hair, pulling her head and body up towards him, letting her breasts hang more fully before him. "It's because I'm not done hurting you. But all you have to do to make me stop is thank me, like you mean it. You can do that, can't you, Danni love?" His grin complete, he makes a sound of mock surprise, "No...? Well then..." And he delivers a quartet of stinging slaps across both her breasts, not the full force that he gave to her behind but carefully chosen strikes aiming to leave her red and very sore without knocking her bodily about.

 

[_kyrie_]

Danni can barely feel her arms, twisted so hurtfully behind her back now pressed between the weight of her body and the bed. Marcus leans down close, sliding his big hand into her hair. The same thumb that has brought such wondrous pleasure with its touch, now strokes the back of her neck almost lovingly.

Danni's green eyes watch the black eyes of the she-demon carefully; waiting for an opening, a weakness that will allow Danni to get through to her Marcus. But she finds none. Only the heated, maniacal glaze of the demon reveling in the height of its power over Marcus and Danni both.

"...But all you have to do to make me stop is thank me, like you mean it. You can do that, can't you, Danni love?..."

Before she can answer, Danni's head is twisted back cruelly by his hand in her hair. His big hand spans the entire size of one breast, yet he strikes with perfect precision, stinging the tender skin over and over again until the tears flow freely from Danni's eyes. She feels her breasts swell just as her bottom did. Had she been able to look down, she would have seen them turning bright red then black and blue as he attacked them relentlessly.

Danni bit her bottom lip as she fought to remain silent but soon lost the battle. Her entire chest hurt, burning from her small breasts up into her neck and still he did not stop. Without realizing what she was doing, Danni twisted her body, writhing away from Marcus hand as it came down over and over again on her small chest. She found her face pressed again his ribs for a brief instant and sank her teeth deeply into his flesh, latching on, intent on shifting his attention away from the damage and pain he continued to inflict on her aching nipples and breasts.

 

[Svenski]

He lets out a growl of pain, more beast than man, as he flinches in surprise, twisting his chest to pull himself away from her teeth. But she has hold of him, driven by some base instinct to fight back, and he finds he cannot so easily shake her loose. A hand moves swiftly to her throat and he takes firm hold, cutting off her breathing while applying leverage to detach her from his flesh. Despite this, it takes a further firm slap to her face for her to release him and then he throws her back on the bed to give himself chance to inspect the damage.

"You bitch!" he curses vehemently, though the exclamation ends in a high pitched almost strangled squeal. Bitten to bleeding, deeply bruised in an oval where Danni's teeth had latched hold, he dabs his fingers against the welt and twists his nose into a small snarl as they contact the painful point. Quieter now, more dangerous, he curses her again, "You fucking bitch, how dare you bite at me like that." He roughly grabs one ankle, the closest body part to his hands, and uses it to yank her over onto her front, bruised buttocks facing towards him just as he pulls her towards him, her hips passing over the lip of the bed so that her knees fall to the floor below. Before she can fall, however, he takes hold of her belt-bound arms and presses her down against the mattress.

Behind, she can hear the sound of him loosening his trousers and as he leans forward to whisper cruelly in her ear she can feel his hard member slapping loosely against her arm. He tells her, savouring each word with malicious intent, "As you've hurt me, little Danni, I'm going to hurt you again. Something I was saving for later. As Marcus broke your sweet little cunnie, I'm going to break your tight little ass." The she-demon in Marcus draws out the last word in a sibilant hiss then withdraws, still pressing her into the bed with her arms. Just a moment's respite then a sensation brushing her sore buttock before trailing inwards to gently touch her clenched rosebud. "You'll beg me, alright. You'll beg me to stop..."

 

[_kyrie_]

She bit down harder, clamping on to the tender skin stretched across his rib cage. Danni prayed the sudden, intense pain would jar Marcus loose from the she-demon's imprisonment.

Her prayer went unanswered. Marcus' strong hand slapped her face, adding more bruises to her fair skin. Danni felt a sharp pain in her right eyelid just as it started to swell. His hands controlled by the she-demons rage and sadistic anger twisted her cruelly by her sore arms. Marcus' pressed her face into the quilts, Danni tried to cry out against the pain but found her throat so sore and swollen from his bruising hands, she could only whine, calling his name over and over until her voice was nearly gone.

It wasn't until she felt his thick cock pressing against her tiny, forbidden hole that she truly started to struggle again. It had been nearly impossible for her to take his great girth into the place designed for a man's entrance; Danni feared there was no way she'd survive the onslaught of his massive shaft in this way. Only then did she begin to beg the she-demon in earnest. Danni could not know her begging merely added to the lust and sadistic yearning of the twisted she-demon in control of her huge warriors body.

 

[Svenski]

"Oh, so now you start to beg. Only now when your tiny ass is threatened." The tip of Marcus' cock presses lightly against her rear opening, just enough to remind her that he's there, ready and willing to take her that way. The demon wearing Marcus' skin chuckles evilly, "You're begging me to stop, now, but you have to know that I'm not going to just let you off." He puts on a falsetto voice, mimicking a high-pitched version of Marcus, "Oh, now you've begged I'll just untie you and kiss it all better. There there, little Danni, there there." By the closing words, his voice had shifted back to the demon's usual timbre, dripping with sarcasm.

His face twists in mockery of a smile, a touch of teeth and plenty of malice in the tightening around his eyes, "So, Danni, do you want to trade? Understand that if you renege on a deal with me then I'll take from you whatever I want and there'll be nothing -- nothing -- you can do about it. But if you want to trade, what will you give me for not tearing into your tight ass right now?" His thick member lightly slaps against her anus again, just tapping there in constant reminder of his size, his forceful presence, and what faces her should she say something wrong.

Danni's hoarseness works against her but the demon simply delights in taking more opportunity to taunt her, "Come come, Danni. Out with it if you're going to say something. Better make it good, though. I'm not trading something paltry in exchange for this sweet, tight bud back here."