Descent into Darkness

Chapter 4

Part 1 Past not Repeated

 

 

Violet gasped against his mouth – her first kiss stolen by cold blackness. He was warm, searing her lips, his hand on her shoulder smoldering. Darkness deepened the kiss at her gasp, sliding his long, pointed tongue within her warm, soft lips. At first she continued to fight but didn’t quite dare to bite down on the invading muscle.

His talons delicately grazed her shoulder and back, tugging down the neckline of her chemise until it barely lingered over the tops of her breasts. At this Violet withdrew, yanking her head back from his and barely missing falling against the impish fire statuette. Her mouth felt bruised and her body heated in a way that was fearfully pleasant.

Darkness did not remove himself from above her but leered over her now scantily clad figure. “My Violet,” his voice rumbled. He leaned forward, his form emblazoned by the flames behind his beloved, a demon in the dark. She stared up at him in trepidation and a spark of wonderment. It was this spark that Darkness hoped to feed upon as he slowly tugged at her chemise.

It only took a couple of pulls and the thin under-gown was drawn away, revealing full breasts and soft belly, pink with blush. In her modesty, Violet raised her arms and covered herself as best she could but could not turn her eyes away from his. Her mouth worked around the words she tried to say but still no sound came. Another tug and the chemise was gone, discarded to a corner beyond the range of firelight.

Darkness was pleased by what he saw. The fullness of her curves hidden only by her limbs and a curtain of black hair enticed him. In one swift motion he slid one hand behind her neck and shoulders, another wrapped around her right ankle and pulled her leg towards him, revealing her form as he kissed her again, forcefully.

There was nowhere to back up, his hand kept Violet from pulling away. Her hands shot up against his collarbone but it was like pressing against stone; his strength was evident against her pitiful attempts to push him away. His tongue forced her lips apart, flicking over teeth and tongue, tasting her. He nibbled her lips, careful not to break skin as his fangs scratched and bruised. 

 

His hands wandered and tugged until Violet lay back on the crimson rug, a picture of milk-white beauty against blood red. Darkness grazed a talon over her breast, a pert nipple hardening at the attention. The black nail went down over soft belly that trembled with Violet’s heavy breathing, down against her pelvic bone, towards her sex.

He could smell her arousal even as she closed her eyes tight and turned away from him in denial of it. It was a clean scent free of any previous male’s musk and it aroused him more than any scene of obscenity and feral carnage he had previously seen. Leaning down he pressed his face against her pelvis and breathed in deep that erotic scent and felt her buck at the sudden contact. He smiled as he pressed his lips to her mound. His tongue slipped into her folds to find a growing heat and wetness within.

Violet gasped and mewled, her hands reached out to grasp the long black horns that loomed above her. They were slick and firm to the touch like polished stone. All thoughts of escape were banished from her mind as his tongue explored that region which had previously only known the few simple pleasures she had given herself in the darkness of her lonely nights. 

 

Darkness groaned, a sound that reverberated through Violet’s body and elicited a whimper. His tongue delved deeper, deeper than Violet could imagine a tongue to reach. He tasted her, that muscle expanding and curling against her wet walls.

Feeling his tongue move inside her caused Violet to squirm and tremble in response. Soon her legs were splayed, bare feet pressing against his shoulders, anchoring herself as her hands pulled herself up by his horns, arching her body against his mouth. Her previous mewls and gasps were now moans and cries of ecstasy as she approached orgasm.

Darkness rested his hands on her hips, pulling her against his mouth as he kept her from bucking. He opened his eyes to watch her heaving chest, her face a flush of ecstasy and confusion, her white knuckles against his horns. His teeth grazed her clitoris as he jutted his tongue deeper. He groaned again as the tip of his tongue touched that thin and delicate barrier – proof of her purity.

Strangely, the feel of her virginity did not excite him like it should. Instead, he felt a strange need to pull back, to wait. He could hear the whispering of the beings that resided in his exile with him – they were waiting for the completion, waiting to greet their new Queen.

Part of him knew that he should continue, take her, make her one with him and yet, the other part knew taking her now, breaking her beneath him, would only leave a puppet-Queen, one that would never quite be his entirely.

He made the decision as she called out to him, her orgasm shaking her body, “Darkness!” He lapped at her folds, feeling the aftermath of her orgasm against his lips, before pulling away.

She lay beneath him, breathing hard and eyes closed – exhausted by her first sexual experience. Darkness wondered if she wouldn’t simply pass out if he did decide to take her. Instead, he caressed her sides, cupped her soft breasts, kissed her neck.

“My lady,” he whispered, his voice rumbling. She turned towards him but couldn’t seem to open her eyes. He smiled and kissed her lips again. “Rest now.” He stood and lifted her easily, like a rag doll. With gentleness that couldn’t have been guessed would come from a creature such as he, he laid her on the bed, wrapped her in layers of red silk, and drew the curtains.

Turning towards the fire, he saw the imps peering up at him curiously. “It can wait,” he said with a smile. He would enjoy the wicked torment of wooing his new bride. After all, he had an eternity of exile to win her heart. 

 

Part 2 - Lady of the Manor

 

 

When Violet awoke it was as if she was awaking from her coma all over again. She wondered at first if all that had happened had only been a strange dream. The red silk sheets that swathed her nude form and the curtains of sheer crimson fabric made her all too aware of the reality. She then wondered how long she had slept – it felt like days.

Sitting up while holding a sheet around her to prevent her nakedness from being exposed, she looked through the curtains towards the fire that was still burning. There was no sign of Darkness yet she felt him keenly, just beyond her sight in the shadows that bordered the room.

A shiver passed through her body but not from cold. She slid out of the bed, still wrapped in the sheet. Her bare feet made no sound on the cool marble floor. The only sound was the low crackling of the fire and the otherwise silence was eerie. When Violet’s stomach rumbled in rebellion it sounded loud in her ears. Passing a hand over her belly she bit her lower lip, “I can’t remember when I last ate,” she whispered.

Turning again towards the fire, Violet was startled at a change in furnishings. Instead of just the two large chairs there was also a table laden with food on platters the size of shields. She stared at the appearance in awe before stepping forward.

Some of the food was unrecognizable while others looked like giant versions of dishes she knew from home. There were hams the size of dogs, mountains of black grapes the size of the palm of Violet’s hand, honeyed figs that oozed with seeds and juice. Even the goblets of what smelled like warm spiced wine were so large it would take both of Violet’s hands to bring down off the table. The metal plates and black glass goblets shimmered in the firelight in a way that dazzled Violet’s eyes and yet, she hesitated.

 

Violet recalled the tale of Persephone and Hades. If Persephone ate the food in the Underworld, she would be trapped there forever. Eventually her hunger won her over and she ate six pomegranate pips. As if mocking her thoughts, Violet saw there were a dozen sliced pomegranates near the edge of the table, pips glowing in the light like rubies. “Well,” she whispered to herself, “Persephone was a goddess and can live without food…I’ll have to risk it I suppose.”

Without climbing into one of the adjacent chairs, Violet meandered around the table and nibbled on the offerings. The grapes gushed in her mouth and tasted like wine, the pomegranate pips were sweet rather than tart, and the honeyed figs were delicious despite making her mouth and hands sticky. She avoided the meat, not yet willing to try it – thinking of Lily telling her how one of the beings in Darkness’ castle had tried to barbeque the gnomes as well as Jack. It made her stomach turn. 

 

When she had eaten her fill, Violet’s mind was occupied by her stickiness. Her hands were covered in honey and fruit juice as was her mouth and then there was a lingering stickiness between her legs she tried not to think about. Slowly, she wandered across the room towards the door she had found the night before. “Hopefully I didn’t dream it. I could use a warm bath.”

As she opened the door, sweet smelling steam rose out of the room. Within, the tub was filled with warm water the sent tendrils of steam into the air. To the side on a low table was a collection of luxurious towels in crimson. After ensuring the door was shut tight behind her, Violet removed the sheet, letting it fall to the side, and slipped into the tub.

A soft moan escaped her lips as the warm water engulfed her. For a moment all she did was lay there against the side and close her eyes. 

 

 

Darkness watched. It had amused him to hear her speak to herself. The food was easy to procure for he was not alone in his exile and his kingdom was vast even though it was temporarily cut off from the human world. Watching the juice wet her mouth and fingers had almost been too much for him, causing fantasies of her mouth upon him instead.

He continued to watch from the shadows as she entered the bathroom. The scent of exotic flowers and musk from the bath oils, the way the silk fell from her body almost like liquid, and the moan she expressed when slipping into the water. He watched as her hands traveled, wetting her hair until it shone like black glass, sliding over her face and seeing droplets form on her long lashes, down her neck to her breasts. He froze as she caressed her own body and wondered what she did alone to herself, how an innocent like her would seek pleasure. 

 

 

Violet looked up and found a crimson linen rag and a bar of soap. Using these she wiped the stickiness from her hands and arms and began to wash herself, not knowing she had an enrapt audience. When she reached her pubis beneath the water, she bit her bottom lip. She could no longer prevent the images and knowing of what had happened the previous evening from her mind.

She wondered briefly if it had been rape but knew it was not. She had read books in which the maiden had been raped by brutal men, and they were no longer virginal maidens and sometimes did not survive the abuse or, if they did, they were disfigured in some way. No, she was not raped but she wasn’t sure how she felt about her first sexual encounter.

A whisper in the back of her mind asked if that was not what she had wanted, had yearned for as she painted flowers making love to pillars, as she read poetry of lovers so besotted with each other they lay nights dreaming of their beloved. Had she not spent nights alone, caressing her own body and wondering what sensations other hands could elicit? She had to admit, the experience had left her body not only pleased but aching for more. 

 

“But he frightens me,” she whispered into the water. His strength, so evident, the glowing red of his flesh, even his horns and hooves all brought fear into her heart even though his touch was so gentle and his kisses so passionate. She let her mind wonder to what passionate scene they probably created, his large red form arched above her, her white body hanging from his black horns as her thighs spread beneath his menstruations all emblazoned by a background of fire.

She closed her eyes as she remembered the ecstasy he had brought her to, the way his hands felt, the heat from him and the heat from her core burning, the feel of his mouth upon her. Slowly, as she remembered, her hands traveled over her breasts, each nipple already hard, down her belly and to her pubis. Her small fingers felt strange in comparison to her lover’s but they knew their goal as one hand rubbed her clit gently at first then rougher. Her other hand spread her nether lips and inserted two fingers slowly. She ached and convulsed, not willing to admit what her body wanted – His touch, His tongue.

Soon she was arched back in bliss, her breasts coming out of the water, dripping and flushed. Her head tilted back against the edge of the tub and mouth opened in a soft moan as she rubbed her two points of pleasure.

Her mind continued to bring images of last night, the feel of His burning flesh, His hands, His mouth, the way His teeth grazed her, the way His tongue filled her. “Oh,” she gasped, remembering her previous orgasm. Finally, she felt her release coming and bucked against her own hands, a single word escaping her lips, “Darkness…”

 

 

After watching her settle back down from her orgasm, and finish cleaning herself, Darkness withdrew to the abyss to contemplate his new beloved.

Hearing his name on her lips had almost been too much. He had to practice every bit of self-control to not enter that room and take her there in the tub. He felt his own member hard and throbbing, wanting to engulf itself in her body. Now alone, he stroked it absentmindedly, imagining small pale hands encircling him instead.

Finally he smiled and called in a servant he had used before. “Give her everything she asks for, seduce her…like the last one.”