The sacrifice mfbondagefantasyreluctant

The full story can be found here. Please with feedback even something as simple as &quot;I enjoyed this story&quot; welcome, any constructive criticism is always excellent! Thank you for reading. The crowd hushed as the next girl in line drew a pebble from the bowl. Late afternoon sunlight cast long, dark shadows on the village, setting the thatched roofs alight with its rays. The girl, blonde hair done up in elaborate braids, slowly withdrew her shaking hand. The chief stared down at her, stony-faced and silent. The mountains surrounding the village seemed to loom forward, anticipating the result. The animal patterns tattooed on his massive chest watched with him as the girl opened her shaking fist. In her palm lay a tiny white pebble. She sighed with relief, shoulders slumping. Her eyes closed, her trembling slowing. Ysane laid a comforting hand on the girl’s shoulder as she stepped back in line. “It’s all right, Janess. You get out of the lottery next year.” Janess’ brown eyes, watery with relief, pierced her deep blue ones. Ysane nodded slowly, taking a deep breath and standing erect, drawing herself up to her full height. “Now it’s my turn.” She approached her father, who held the bowl in outstretched arms. For the first time since the Festival of Choosing had begun, his expression softened. Barrel-chested, gray-eyed, and endowed with an admirable salt-and-pepper beard, the Chief was an imposing man. But his expression held an odd combination of love and apprehension as his only daughter approached the bowl. Ysane strode up to him, standing upright and confident. Her knee-length dress of dyed cloth caught the sunset as her hand dipped into the bowl of pebbles. She closed her eyes and felt each one, trying to see if any stones felt different from one another. Some were rough, some were smooth, some were harder than others, but no two felt alike. After a few moments, she could feel the crowd becoming impatient. She chose a stone and pulled her hand from the bowl. Her stomach dropped. In her palm sat a single black rock, dark as midnight and dull as lead. Her eyes jumped between her father and the pebble. He bit his lip, casting his glance downward. “The sacrifice has been chosen,” he murmured, his voice toneless. “Ysane of the house of Elda.” He set the bowl aside and left the village center, doing his best to hide his tears. Ysane stood silent, dazed. The other girls surrounded her, whispering their goodbyes and thanks. Janess hugged her, tears flowing freely now. “You almost made it out, Ysane. I’m so sorry.” She kissed her on both cheeks. “Goodbye.” Janess retreated to her home as the darkening twilight filled the village. The other potential tributes, all aged sixteen to twenty, did the same. Ysane was nineteen, and would be well into her twenty-fifth year by the time the next Festival came, six years from today. She wouldn’t be around to see that one. Her father returned, carrying a litter of thick canvas, decorated with runes and patterns. Six shirtless men, wearing masks of smooth wood and painted with swirling shapes, gently took her and lifted her onto the litter, carrying it on their shoulders. Ysane curled into a ball and began to cry, sobbing softly. Every time a tear fell, another star appeared in the darkening sky. By the time the party reached the altar, higher up the mountains, the sky was dark indigo. At a small plateau, in a clearing surrounded by ancient pines, sat a large granite box, perfectly rectangular. A large, carved slab capped it, like a mattress. Four iron rings were embedded in the rock, one on each corner. Ysane’s father lifted her, strong arms under her knees and shoulders, and laid on her on the monolith. He laid her on her back, her empty, despondent eyes reflecting the constellations, long brown hair fanning under her head and shoulders. The chief kissed his daughter on the cheek, then walked back to the litter. In perfect unison, he and three other men lifted iron chains, thick and dingy with centuries of use. The heavy chains clanked as they surrounded Ysane, shackling her slim wrists and ankles. The cuffs seemed to shrink to fit around her limbs. They clicked the chains into place, squatting next to her, eyes invisible behind their masks. Ysane turned her head to the man on her right. He was bare-chested, his shoulders shaking. He swallowed and stood, mask making him inhuman in the flickering torchlight. His hand caressed her cheek. “I hoped to marry you one day, Ysane.” She stiffened, shocked. “Haramon?” she whispered. “Is that you?” Her shaking voice was swallowed by the darkness. He nodded once. “I’m so sorry. If only we’d had more time…goodbye, my love.” He bent down and lifted his mask slightly, kissing her on the cheek before straightening and hurrying away. She watched him go, a single tear sliding down her cheek. My love. Her father stood at her feet, murmuring strange words. Her limbs were splayed in an X, her skin pale in the moonlight. He finished, laying a hand on her shoulder, and joined the others with their empty litter. She watched them go, chains rattling as she shivered. The night was clear, but cold. The torches finally disappeared into the dark, swallowed by mountains and forest. A sob shook her chest, then another. Ysane gasped, breasts heaving, tears flowing down her face. A sudden chill floated through the air. Goosebumps rose on her skin as the wind picked up, bringing with it a sound almost like&#8230;breathing? A slow, labored rattle, like the last breaths of a dying man, grew louder as the wind died. Ysane paled, struggling to sit up, staring in all directions at the dark forest. The clearing was empty. A presence filled her mind, pressing against her thoughts. The feeling was faint, a barely noticeable otherness in her emotions, but her fear bestowed her senses with new focus. She shuddered. “No&#8230;no, please!” Ysane panicked, pulling her chains with all her strength, thrashing desperately in a futile attempt to free herself. The chains clanged against the altar. With a hum and a rush of warmth, a blue glow rose from its surface. Ysane stiffened, shocked. She looked down, searching for a source of the light. Within a pair of concentric circles, the majority of which lay beneath her, strange runes glowed a deep cobalt. The glow emanated upward and outward, creating a circle of watery blue light in the darkness. They were warm, easing the biting chill of the night air outside. The presence grew in strength, overpowering her fear. Emotions not her own flowed through her, desire, hunger, fury, murderous rage, and lust. She yanked against her chains as her mind betrayed her, her dark hair tossing as she pulled her limbs in a desperate attempt to escape. Moments passed. Ysane’s limbs and face were drenched in sweat, her body burning with exhaustion, but she still pressed forward, futilely. A second ring of runes glowed red around the first, burning brilliant crimson on the altar. The air grew colder. Ysane stiffened, gasping as hot breath caressed her ear. But when she turned her head to look&#8230;there was nothing there. Ysane stopped, her heart skipping and pounding in her chest. She closed her eyes, lying in a terrified daze. Let it end. Just let it be over with. Please. The breathing, hot in her ear, moved away from her, the rattle fading into nothingness. The otherworldly presence expanded, filling her mind and blotting out her thoughts. For a split second, Ysane ceased to exist. Her mind and her soul were raw lust. Then the presence vanished. Leaves crunched in the woods to her left. With a gasp, Ysane’s eyes flew open, her hair whipping across her face as she turned. Her lips parted in shock. A tall, dark figure, nearly seven feet in height, walked toward her, its pace slow and laborious. It was hooded and robed in ebony cloth, somehow darker than the night sky above them. Its face was shrouded in shadow, nearly seven feet above the ground. The only distinguishable human features were its dark, calloused hands, rough, strong, and tanned from years of labor. Gleaming silver pauldrons sat on its shoulders, connected by a slim iron chain. In the watery light of the runes, Ysane could see her reflection in them, distorted and horrified. The being was it a man? emanated the same lust and power she’d felt before. Ysane shivered in terror, her chest heaving. Tiny puffs of frost came from her mouth with every breath, and a floating feeling made her head spin. Her reflection was pale and trembling, and looked to faint at any moment. Its footsteps crunched in the bare gress as the hooded creature approached. The being approached her, laying a gnarled hand on her bare calf. Its palm was warm against her leg. It stroked her skin, gentle, bending over her flesh as if observing her. The empty hood gazed into her face, then turned down her body to take her in. The hand traveled down her leg, massaging her ankle. In her mind, its voice echoed, deep and masculine and incredibly powerful. It sounded old, strong, and tired. The voice was sheer otherness, yet strangely compelling. It carried with it the echoes of power and charisma. Your people chose well. Not for centuries have I been gifted with a specimen so fine. Ysane squeezed her eyes shut, turning her face away. “Please&#8230;don’t…” she whispered, pulling her leg away from its touch. Her chains ced against the stone, stopping her from moving more than a few inches. She whimpered. The hand traveled back up her leg, stopping with a jolt at the edge of her dress. Don’t what, child? She trembled. “Don’t…” she repeated, terrified of giving the being any ideas. “Please don’t…” Her voice was a whisper, quieter than a breeze. Her stomach churned, fear whipping it into a nauseous frenzy. I see your mind, child. A trace of sympathy crept into the creature’s tone. It laid a bronzed hand on her shoulder. You fear torture, rape, and mutilation by a legion of abominations, each more terrible than the last. I assure you that this will not occur. The creature’s hand slid down her shoulder onto her exposed arm, gently feeling the slim muscles and soft flesh. Its touch was soft, almost loving. Ysane began to relax, despite her terror. She was still tense, and her heart continued to clatter behind her ribs, but she was beginning to calm down. Her eyes were wide in open in shock, watching the bizarre phantom caress her. Its hand reached hers, gnarled fingertips brushing her gentle ones. It vanished and reappeared at her right side. Ysane jumped, crashing back down on the stone as her bonds stopped her mid-leap. It massaged her bare foot, then began to slowly slide its hand up the inside of her right leg. Would it comfort you to tell you that I was once a man? One not dissimilar to the one you left behind, down in your village. Tall, fair, proud, and loving, I was…your boy shall miss you, as I miss my old self. Ysane shook her head, trembling as the hand climbed higher. “I-I don’t understand.” I was human, eons ago. The chief of a great village, much like your father. I was happy, and proud, surrounded by my wife, my family and my people. But all that changed when an empire from the east attacked us. His rage and hatred reverberated in her mind. My children were butchered, my wife raped and tortured before my eyes. I was left to die, a broken and bitterly wounded man. So, in fury, I turned to old magics, twisted and dark. With them, I forged a sword of great power. Ysane gaped. She’d heard stories of an ancient chieftain who had lost everything and fallen to darkness&#8230;but that was a fairy tale, made up to scare children! The Cursed King was a myth, not real, and not a few miles from her village! It wasn’t possible! His hand stopped its slow climb up her leg and began to brush her right hand, starting at the fingertips and working its way upward. The hands were warmer now, strangely comforting in the cold night. With the sword, I slaughtered the men who had destroyed my people. But it wasn’t enough. My rage was unlimited, and I roamed the world, massacring armies and shattering empires. But as the sword consumed legions, it consumed me as well. With every life I took, a fraction of my humanity, my soul, was eaten away. Ysane made another attempt to rise, her back lifting away from the stone. The hand pressed against her chest, firm, and drove her back down. Do not try to rise, child. These chains are unbreakable. After my conquest, my pillaging, all that remained were my fury and my lust: the two most basic, the two most ingrained, of all human emotions. Everything else was….stripped away. The Cursed King sighed, staring off into the distance. “Look. I’m sorry for your loss….sincerely, I am&#8230;but I must leave now.” She made another move to rise, but his hand stopped her before her chains did. You have been selected as a sacrifice, child. You cannot leave until your purpose is complete. He lifted his hand from her chest and stroked her hair, entangling his fingers in the long, thick strands. His touch was gentle and loving. She whimpered, pity and fear mingling in her expression. “You said you wouldn’t hurt me…” And I will not. May I finish my story? Once I do, you will understand your purpose. Ysane swallowed, then nodded, biting her lip as the specter played with her hair. My rage and lust were beyond imagination. By the time my rampage ended, I was three parts. I was magic, the demonic enchantments that fueled me, my hands, with which I wielded weapons of war, and my manhood, the only tool available to me to fulfill my carnal desire. I slaughtered and raped across continents until the last great mages of the world stopped me here. With their combined magics, they sealed the remains of my body and soul within this altar. Ysane’s jaw dropped. The Cursed King, the ancient monster of legends and stories, was only a few miles from her home! One of the greatest battles ever had taken place here. Her mind rushed to recall the details of his imprisonment as he continued. Now, at least, she knew why his story was told the night after the sacrifice had been taken up the mountain. The mages knew that no prison is unbreakable. In order to be strong, it must have a flaw. Every few years, I would be released, but the satisfaction of either of my lusts, for blood or for woman, would send me hurtling into my tomb. Furthermore, they knew that my lust can be satisfied by a single woman, but my fury cannot rest until the world burns. His fists clenched, the runes glowing brighter. Beneath her, the altar vibrated. The mages settled in the village from which you came, their descendants drawing lots among the daughters of the town to give to me. Over time, the reason of the sacrifice was lost to all but the chief, passed from generation to generation. But the tradition remains to this day. I can only imagine how your father weeps… Ysane bit her lip. Her father’s face swam in front of her eyes, stained with tears. She swallowed the lump in her throat with difficulty. Her father never cried. Never. A tear slid down her own cheek. The King noticed. It’s not as bad as you think, child. My touch is cursed, yes. But you will die painlessly. Your people believe in great sacrifice. You shall be honored and venerated by your deeds here tonight. You will die keeping the Cursed King at bay. Her eyes were wide and wet, like those of a newborn puppy. Tears dripped down her lashes. “I&#8230;I don’t want to die.” You will see your loved ones again, child, he rumbled. You shall greet them in Heaven, clad in golden robes. I can never die. I am cursed to remain on Earth forever. Be blessed by your mortality, child. Ysane closed her eyes and sighed, laying her head back. The stone was hard against her skull, but she’d grown used to it. It seemed her death was inevitable. “Very well. Do what you have to do. Kill me.” Child! Reproachful surprise reverberated through her mind. I have no intention of killing you! “H-how do I know you’re telling the truth?” She squinted at him, confused and concerned. If he didn’t want to kill her… Child, I speak to your very soul. In case you loved this information and you would like to receive more details regarding live free sex cam assure visit the web site. Am I lying? Deep down, she knew, he wasn’t. He hadn’t lied to her during the entirety of their conversation. She shook her head. Good. Because I do not lie. The purpose of the sacrifice is not to die by the Cursed King’s hand. free sex web cams Her purpose is to mate with him, so that his lust is sated and he returns to his tomb. Oh. Ysane felt a blush creeping up her cheeks and neck. Her and Haramon had been together a few times, in his bed while his parents were off trading. She had felt&#8230;wonderful things, but she’d never spoken of them to anyone else. The memory made her relax, and she shivered in anticipation, remembering the caress of Haramon’s strong hands, his soft lips, and his hard, strong manhood. The Cursed King chuckled to himself. So, child. Do you consent to my desires? She nodded, once. “I do.” The hooded head nodded once, slowly. His hands reached down and gripped the top of her dress, pulling the collar down between her breasts. Thank you, child. My loins have ached for the embrace of a woman. The hooded head bent over her. Warm lips pressed against her mouth, invisible, passionate. Ysane trembled in a bizarre mixture of arousal and fear. He pulled away, slowly. Part of her wished he hadn’t. Approval radiated from him. The Cursed King began to pull, tearing her dress at the neckline. The sound of ripping fabric was surprisingly loud. He ripped the dress open from neck to waist, then downward. With a final, powerful tug, he tore the dress’ skirt and threw the two halves into the woods. Beneath it, Ysane was naked. She shivered at the sudden chill, gooseflesh rising over her body, pink nipples standing in the cold. Blushing, she pulled her legs together against the chains. They glowed. The chains moved, pulling her legs apart into a V. Ysane shivered and whimpered. Don’t worry, child. I shall not penetrate you yet. There was a loud crunch below her. Ysane gasped as the chains, glowing with watery white light, floated up to her. They carried her, rotating her through the air, leaving her on her knees on the altar, hands at her sides. She gasped again. The Cursed King stood on the altar, his penis poking out between two folds in his robes, level with her face. Hands to make war, a manhood to make love…. she remembered. It was flaccid, but thick and large. She gulped. You know what to do, child. Ysane closed her eyes, biting her lip. After a moment, she leaned forward, pulling against her chains. Her mouth opened. Ysane licked her lips, ready, but she stopped a few inches from him, chains holding her back. She frowned. One of the chains sprang free from her right wrist, the manacle opening and falling to the altar with a clatter. She reached out and took the dick in her hand. It was warm, like his hands, and surprisingly soft. She leaned forward again, guiding the tip into her mouth. She could feel the pulse rushing through it. With a tiny jolt, it stirred, slowly beginning to expand between her lips. She gave the head a soft lick, running the flat of her tongue along the tip, testing it. A low, shaking rumble echoed through her mind. He was moaning! She smiled, lips curving around his head. She looked up at him, running her tongue across the head again. His hood and, she assumed, his head were rolled back. He moaned again, growing a little inside her mouth, extending past her lips, pressing her tongue down. She let go, holding his cock in her mouth, and softly slid her fingertips up his legs&#8211;they were invisible, but solid. She cupped his balls and teased them, touching her fingertips to where they met his body and running them along the sac. He moaned, and she moaned with him, enjoying the warmth of his penis as she started to suck. He moaned again, louder. He grew larger, his head poking the back of her throat, girth forcing her jaw open wide. She let out a grunt of discomfort, but ran her tongue along the bottom of the shaft anyway. She was starting to enjoy herself, and the fact that she was holding the apocalypse at bay with her body. He thrust forward, hitting back of her throat hard. She sputtered, gagging, but the chains prevented her from moving away. She jolted, closing her eyes as he pulled away a little but kept most of his length in her mouth. Don’t stop, child. You’re doing well. She nodded, then leaned forward to take him again, swirling her tongue around the shaft. He moaned again. The altar rattled beneath her, but Ysane barely noticed&#8211;her focus was on the massive cock in her mouth. NSFWilhelm   1