Out of the Shadows, Part 29


You look down at the Matriarch as she prostrates herself, trembling in misery. Her deepest childhood fears finally caught up to her at last. After so, so many years spent hopelessly trying to escape... there's nowhere left for her to run.

After how mercilessly you crushed her one last hope, there's no fight left in her. Ironically, given your lack of actual combat prowess and the training she probably has, she most likely could beat you if she only tried. But her psyche is in the palm of your hand... and no amount of strength means anything in service to a broken will.

You could kill her right now. You doubt she would even resist.

Instead, you kneel. Reaching down, you touch her cheek, drawing her gaze to look up at Verika's face that you're borrowing. You let a little of your aphrodisiac touch into the caress. Not enough to be obvious—yet—but it's enough to send a small thrill through her that she doesn't even fully understand. Then you slide your hands down her neck, your fingers working at clasps and ties in her voluminous robes.

Her body quivers as the layers of fabric fall away. She stares up at you with wide eyes, not understanding why "Verika" is doing this. Searching her for hidden weapons, perhaps? You give her no hints, nothing to give away what awaits her.

Underneath the robes, you see an altogether more formidable layer of defense. Golden armor, winding skintight over her body. Except... no, not golden, you realize as you look closer. Orichalcum. Nor is it simple lifeless metal, either. You see some of the individual plates shift around her body as you reach out your hand, as though in preparation to intercept.

Magecrafted armor of the highest caliber, no doubt enchanted to react to any object coming toward its wearer at high speed. This is what she was counting on to deflect against any attempt Verika made to snipe her from hiding. Probably not something that could have protected her against a heroine indefinitely... but a defense this formidable might indeed have bought enough time for a dagger throw.

"Take it off." You purr the command in Verika's voice, suffused with absolute confidence. The Matriarch flinches... but then obeys. Her faltering hands reach behind her for a clasp. She struggles for a while, but eventually the armor disengages, the gold-colored plates sliding down her body to arrange themselves into a neat pile by her feet.

Once they fall, she stands there in nothing but her scanty underclothes. Vulnerable, deprived of her finery and regalia. Much like her features and long white hair, her dark body is also reminiscent of Verika's. She is thinner, however, not quite so voluptuous as her sister.

She tries to back away, but there's nowhere to go, and her back hits the wall of her sanctuary almost immediately. "Verika..." she manages to say in a small, hopeless voice. "Verika, please. I'll... I'll give you anything. Anything. Just... just... just please don't..."

You cut off her pleading by stepping in close, placing a finger gently across her lips to hush her. Your eyes burn with allure, as your lips curve in a predatory smile. She shrinks before your advance, not knowing what to expect.

Then you pull her into a kiss.

Her noise of utter shock is muffled against your mouth as your tongue invades hers, vigorously kissing her in a quasi-incestuous display. You let loose with your aphrodisiac even as you grope her, sending waves of lust crashing over her with every touch.

The effect is devastating. Mortals are often prone to confuse and intermix fear and arousal even at the best of times... but the Matriarch is facing the utter extremes of each. To suffer an incubus' allure coming from the source of her greatest fear... the resulting amalgam of feeling is too much for her to bear. Her legs buckle, but you pin her tight against the wall, not letting up on the kiss for even a moment.

Then your groping hands slide lower, between her legs. She's so wired up that you barely even insert your fingers once before she comes explosively, her body bucking in wild, spasmodic jolts. She sobs into you, slumping in your arms as she rides out the terrifying orgasm, her head buried into the crook of your neck, skin against skin.

It's then, as she lies helpless against you—shuddering in pleasure she cannot explain—that you judge it safe enough to shift out of Verika's form, your body changing into a naked version of your demonic appearance. The Matriarch looks weakly up as she feels you shift, her eyes widening as she realizes how badly she's been outplayed. How doomed she was all along. "You!"

"Me." You kiss her again, gentler this time, before pulling back just a tiny bit, continuing to gently frig her all the while. Your faces remain nearly touching, your bodies cinched together as you keep her pressed tight against the wall. She trembles against you, awash in an impossible mixture of need and despair and fear and utter helplessness.

The Matriarch manage to choke out a broken laugh. "So this is how it ends. Am I not even worth killing in person? She leaves it to a demon to finish me off instead?"

"You really still think that's what this is?" you reply, kissing her yet again. She sucks in a quick breath, but you just continue, kissing your way down her neck, your fingers entering her while your other hand plays with her body. "Your sister doesn't want you dead. She hasn't for a long time."

"Lies..." the Matriarch whispers. But in the throes of supernatural passion as she is, it's weak and unconvincing. "Just... lies and tricks..."

"What need would I have of tricks now?" you ask the utterly defeated woman. "You've lost your hostages. You've lost your knife. You've lost your armor. You've disgraced yourself in front of your nation, damaged your standing. What are you even clinging to? Why not take a chance that I'm telling the truth?" You pause. "Was any of that backstabbing and plotting and scheming really worth it... compared to pleasure like this?"

You punctuate the question with a particularly deep thrust of your fingers, prompting her to convulse in a shuddering mini-orgasm. Her body bucks, instinctively trying to get you deeper still, but you control the pace expertly, keeping her desperate for more. She lets out a plaintive whimper, a wordless, desperate, needy plea for more. "Then she... she... wants to see me degrade myself?" the Matriarch gasps. "Even my death isn't enough to satisfy her? She wants to watch me become a demon's obedient little whore?"

For all that the words are bitter, you can tell that a part of her is turned on at the thought. So you play into the idea, just with slight change. "No..." you murmur into her ear. "No, you still don't understand. She wants to share it with you. Just how wonderful it is to become a demon's obedient little whore... right along side her."

The Matriarch's eyes go wide, staring incredulously at you, as she realizes who is truly in control here. That even the woman she's lived her whole life in fear of has already been conquered. By you. You can practically see the images flashing through her thoughts. Realizing exactly what her life will become if she lets herself fall, offering herself up to you body and soul. Both her and Verika, lost to you together.

And realizing that, in that lust-drenched moment... there's nothing in the entire world that she wants more.

She reaches down and rips away the scanty thong that is all that remains covering her lower half, spreading her legs. You pull her away from the wall, spinning her around to bend her over her desk, sending papers flying everywhere. All manner of plans for killing Verika that she's written over the years fall tumbling to the floor, while the Matriarch's face is pressed into more of them. All of them useless. All of them abandoned for your cock, and the defeat and salvation it brings.

Then you thrust into her. And any pleasure she got from your fingering is blown away as you truly start to fuck her. She screams in delirious delight, the tight confines of the safe room reverberating with her ecstatic cries and sobs, as she begs you to do whatever you want to her. Eventually you flip her over, allowing her to gaze up at you in unreserved worship as you pin her into a mating press, fucking her even harder.

You'd like to savor the meal at greater length. But time is precious. You bring her right to the edge yet again... and then release into her, claiming her womb with your seed. The Matriarch screams in rapturous joy, her body convulsing as she experiences her most devastating orgasm yet, before slumping limply.

Reaching down, your hand begins to glow with the power of your Corruptive Boon. "Swear," you say. "Swear that you're mine. That you'll obey any order faithfully, without attempting any deceit toward me or my mistress."

The Matriarch takes your glowing hand in both of hers, pressing it against her cheek as thought to savor the submission that it brings. "I swear," she breathes eagerly. "I swear, all of it. I'm yours forever."

She shudders as the Boon takes effect. You give her the full works, heightened sensitivity, sexual stamina and her own minor aphrodisiac. It also helps her recover faster... which is useful, since now you need to move.

You don't waste time redressing her completely, just throwing her outermost robes over her otherwise-naked body. You do grab the enchanted orichalcum armor—no sense in leaving something that useful behind—before pulling the Matriach toward the exit of the safe room. "Come on," you say. "We have to go now."

However... even the simplest of plans can face unexpected interruptions. And you've barely made it through the doorway before one hits that you weren't counting on. A feeling of wrongness that swells up within your soul. And by now, you know exactly what that portends.

"Get away!" you warn the Matriarch, shoving her deeper into the bedchambers outside while you dive back into the shielded confines of the safe room. You drop to one knee, even as the red glow of unholy energy explodes from your right palm, enveloping you in a raging, consuming vortex of hellish power that turns the entire safe room into a whirlwind of burning scraps of parchment.

The surge of power finally fades, leaving you alone in the safe room as the tiny remnants of burning paper drift down all around you. Glancing down at your palm, you confirm what you already know from the increased surge of potency that you feel permeating you. The third rune is now fully alight.

ᚡ ᛤ ᚡ ᛤ ᛠ ᛤ ᚡ ᛤ ᚡ ᛥ

Nor is the general increase in your reserves of power all that you feel. You've also unlocked yet another demonic ability. Which you realize is...