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It was darker in Vargralar's pit than even the darkest night outside, no touch of the hated light here in the necromancer's stronghold. Marinne would see only the glow of the vampyric beast's crimson eyes, looming over her again and drawing a shudder from the captive girl. She was still beautiful, even with the deep weariness in her eyes that had for the moment replaced the gleam of fear there. Days of torture had taken their toll on her, though Vargralar, in his wickedness, had made sure not to degrade her health too far, doing only so much damage as he could patch up with magic and potions afterwards. Sometimes, her tormented mind tried to pretend that it was Lar who violated her battered body, but the sounds and sensations of the monster using her were too different, the illusion difficult to hold for long. Besides, Lar's love wouldn't hurt her this way, would it?
Her thoughts were interrupted by the scrape of claws on the stone and the looming red eyes that haunted her nightmares, Vargralar's twisted bulk shambling forward as he let out a deep, bestial growl, watching the girl with his necromantic vision before approaching closer, crawling onto her with another growl. His cock was already erect and oozing precum with anticipation, though he didn't attempt to enter her yet. Marinne couldn't tell if it was day or night down here, but she knew by the presence of the monster that it was the only time that mattered at the moment: time to hurt. Sobbing softly, she tried to compose herself as best as she could. She had a sense that her captor was building up toward something big, and she was certain it was nothing she desired. Biting back a cry as the large hairy hands descended on her body and his tongue lapped her face, Marinne bit her lower lip hard and closed her eyes tightly, even though the only sight there was to shut out was the blood red gleam of those horrible eyes above her.
"Ahhh, yes, my little morsel..." came the cold telepathic voice in her mind as his wicked, gnarled shaft brushed against her thigh, hardening in anticipation.
"Hate you..." came Marinne's feeble whimper in response, but that was her only resistance as the warped necromancer's hairy paws caressed over her soft young flesh, squeezing her breasts a bit, irritating them with the coarse, bristly hairs there. Marinne had almost come to expect this by now, the time spent in his chamber wearing on her until what resistance she had left was no longer sufficient to manifest itself in struggles.
"I have a surprise for you, morsel." came the wicked voice in her mind.
"No... no surprise... please..." she groaned tiredly.
Ignoring her plea, the beast spread her legs apart with a lustful rumble, his evil crimson eyes blazing down on her in the darkness, gazing at her face in the darkness where only his evil powers let him see. The girl tried to keep her thighs closed at first, but soon gave in with a sigh of exhaustion, her tender cunt exposed for the monster's necromantic gaze to inspect as he drew back. Licking his lips and grinning wickedly, he lifted the "surprise" he had chosen, a cold, black phallus of iron, its oversized length compartmented to hold a nasty surprise indeed within. With a deep rumble, half chuckle, half growl, the warped necromancer lay an ornate bowl between the girl's legs, then gripped the tool firmly and shoved it roughly into Marinne's supine body with a lusting rumble. The iron phallus slid deep into her tender cunt, forcing her open with cold metal and causing a high-pitched scream to escape from her throat. Vargralar chuckled darkly, his eyes gleaming red in the darkness as he began to pump the device in and out of her tender body. Marinne whimpered, cold articulated metal chilling and chafing her, creating a decidedly unpleasant sensation inside her. Soon enough, she'd wish to have that sensation in place of what was to come.
Vargralar began to pump harder into Marinne's resisting flesh with the cold tool, the metal gradually heating from the warmth of her body. As it warmed, she found the sensation less unpleasant, better than having her anus raped by the fiendish monster at any rate. She closed her eyes, though doing so did little to alter what she saw in the dark chamber, hiding only those glowing red eyes that loomed over her. Vargralar panted heavily in the darkness, gazing down at the tormented girl as he pounded the tool in and out of her faster and faster, her cunt even growing a little bit slick on its own as the stimulation continued. That was his signal, and thrusting the iron shaft deep into her, he pressed firmly on the button at its base to unleash the "surprise" he had promised.
Shuddering, the plates of the phallus shot open and the tool blossomed with iron spikes inside her, piercing and ripping tender inner walls and calling forth the flow of blood to trickle down into the waiting bowl. Twisting the shaft within her, Vargralar ripped Marinne's sweet little cunt further, licking his lips as he watched her rich crimson life pour down to fill the waiting vessel. This was indeed a surprise, and Marinne howled piteously as she felt her soft cunt-meat shredded by the thorns of the infernal phallus, her limbs twitching and thrashing involuntarily as she writhed in agony. Scream after scream burst from her, howling from the bottom of her lungs at the violation until her throat was sore and hoarse, but still she screamed, the pain in her cunt too great for her to notice aught else. Blood splashed on her thighs, and the necromancer's hands eagerly lifted her to better let the fluid pour into his collecting bowl while the twisting of the shaft continued to tear and mutilate her inside. Marinne could soon bear it no more, her agonized mind wishing to retreat into the arms of death and escape from this torment; satisfied in falling unconscious for now as she slumped like a broken doll in Vargralar's cruel grasp.
The necromancer growled, a deep bestial sound. How boring that his toy could not have endured more suffering... but he would amend that in time. For now, he made the phallus retract its spikes, drawing it out and letting the girl's bleeding cunt drip a little bit longer before taking the ornate bowl to his snarling lips, his tongue capturing the fresh lifeblood as he sated his thirst. He could taste Marinne's terror and pain in her blood, making the flavor all the more delectable to him, nourishing his dark unlife, his body growing stronger, sleeker, no longer the emaciated ghoul he had looked when he'd first captured her. Her blood was unusually fine, and he could feel the power of it surging through his decrepit veins as the beating of his blackened heart quickened with excitement. If only this could last... Vargralar shuddered with a mixture of delight and regret; this fine treat would be over all too soon for him.
Having swallowed the blood and licked the bowl and the tool clean, Vargralar threw himself onto the girl once more, growling and panting hotly on her neck as she lolled beneath him, still in a swoon from the torment she'd endured. Ramming his savage cock into her wounded cunt, he began to pound her roughly, feeling her blood flowing anew across his bestial member as he violated her. It added an extra layer of pleasure to his experience, his gnarled flesh soaking up a portion of the blood flowing over it as he began to pound into Marinne's body anew. Limp like a rag-doll, the tormented nobless lay still beneath him, still in an unconscious daze while he raped her.
When Marinne awoke again, her cunt was still filled by the monster's thick cock, Vargralar's hairy body bearing down on her as he pounded into her, uncaring that she had lain unconscious beneath her. She could still feel the pain of the lacerations inside her, and as she came to, she cried out in pain anew, feeling the soreness in her vocal cords from too much screaming already, her breaths ragged and painful. It even hurt to swallow, a deep shuddering gulp wracking her throat as she awakened more fully, fresh teardrops beginning to spill from her sweet violet eyes. Growling and panting in response, Vargralar grabbed her by the throat, choking her firmly as he continued to thrust into her roughly, his swollen, bestial cock pounding the roof of her cunt. Marinne struggled feebly, her little hands reaching up, trying to dig her nails into her assailant's hairy hide to no avail. Only when she was about to slip back into unconsciousness did he release her throat again, her breath coming in ragged gasps as it was once again unrestricted.
"No..." she moaned feebly, Vargralar only growling and slamming deep into her in response.
The monster's hands moved to her chest, pressing down as he reared up, his furry palms gripping and massaging, his sharp nails nicking her soft skin. Her cunt didn't grip him so tightly after being ripped by the spikes, so he pounded her all the harder to compensate, the blood adding to his pleasure as he slammed into her, the tip of his cock battering her cervix with every cruel thrust, her screams without sound now as her voice finally gave out from the strain of so much torment. Faster and faster he pumped, making horrible noises, bestial yet unnatural in their rumbling timbre.
All at once, he tensed, letting loose a horrible howl as he started to cum, his cock swelling and throbbing like a creature unto itself, twisted like its owner. Marinne's eyes rolled back, a grimace on her pretty lips as she felt the monster's cold, dead seed pouring into her. Yanking out with a rough growl, he continued to cum, aiming at her as his cock quivered and heaved, casting black seed all over her pale skin, the foul taste and smell of it filling her senses acutely as one glob splattered over her lips, more jets pattering on her breasts and throat. The feast complete, he gazed down at her with his glowing eyes for a few moments, his raspy panting slowly calming once again, then he let out another low growl as he assessed the damage to his toy. Placing his furry hands on the girl's hips, he squeezed them tightly as he began to focus; letting too much of the girl's blood flow away simply would not do, and she was already close to that limit. Marinne's body jerked again as the wicked warlock's dark power began to stream into her, not assisting her own natural healing but rather forcing the flesh to knit by his own cruel will. It was a painful experience in its own right, drawing new tears to her eyes as she struggled against the mighty paw holding her down.
Once it was done, the gashes in Marinne's inner flesh had been closed, leaving her shaken and faint but largely intact. Vargralar licked his lips with satisfaction and turned, rumbling in his throat, before heading deeper into his lair, leaving the blonde girl resting in her cell, still weeping bitterly. Once she'd had some rest and nourishment, she'd be ready for more torment, whether she wanted it or not. Vargralar's lips twisted in a parody of a smile; he felt sure that wanting it was far from Marinne's mind.
The sky was lit only by stars, the new moon a portent of beginnings and endings, and Marinne had spent a month under Vargralar's cruel hand. The new girl had given him much amusement, but at last she had ceased to respond in a satisfactory manner to his torments, her body languid, her eyes dulled from darkness and pain, her blood run thin from bleeding for him. Dragged by the hair behind him along the forest paths, she barely seemed aware of the scraping branches and brambles on her bare skin.
It was only when she was thrown roughly over a stone altar atop a craggy hill that Marinne showed signs of awareness. The shades of Vargralar's victims were milling between the trees in the starlight, voicelessly screaming their torment in these hours of the warlock's greatest power, drawn unwillingly towards their foul captor and his place of power upon the hill. One of the shades was hanging closer, staring at Marinne—she could feel its horrible gaze even without seeing the hollow eyes in its gaunt and tattered face. It made her feel cold, made her skin crawl, and she wailed, turning her head away from the apparition, that stare breaking through even her torpor of misery with the horror it instilled. Sorrowfully, the shade drifted back to flit amongst its incorporeal brethren, its silent wails seeming tormented beyond even those of the others.
Pinning her in place with a hairy paw, Vargralar leaned over Marinne's battered body, his ghastly mouth twisted in the closest semblance to a smile it could manage, before he licked her lips with a low rumble. Then, with an expansive gesture, he raised his cursed chalice and dagger up to the starry blackness, eyes gleaming with a more fiery red than before as he looked up into the moonless darkness. Puffing his chest, he threw his head back and howled out to the void beyond the sky, his blood-stinking breath fogging in the chill of the crisp night air. Then, with a swift movement, he sliced down Marinne's arm with the dagger, grabbing her wrist and letting the crimson flow pour into the the chalice, his nostrils flaring as he breathed in the delicious scent, feeling himself grow erect from it. Dropping her arm once the chalice was halfway full, he dug the dagger into his own hairy hide next, roaring a terrible roar that would convince any who might hear it that his forest was full of horrors. His black ichor oozed into the chalice, mixing with the girl's fine blood, putrefying it as the cold light of the stars looked on. Pushing the chalice to Marinne's lips, he massaged her throat, forcing her to drink, then downed the rest of the cupful himself.
Once he felt the effects of the draught had begun, Vargralar lay his paws on Marinne's breasts, squeezing them and digging his claws in a bit as he focused his mind upon her, letting himself drop down into the mode of existence where the girl's feeble consciousness still fluttered weakly. Slowly, his dark power wormed its way into her, cold and squirming to her senses, making her shudder a little more than even the cool night air could account for. Ethereal tentacles wrapped around her once-innocent heart, twisting and squeezing, strangling it out until it beat no more, and with it crushing the girl's spirit like a dry leaf and absorbing the mana of its essence. Her eyes were wide, her mouth a little "o" of surprise as a little trickle of urine dripped from her even though the warlock had made sure to purge her body before the ritual, her muscles falling death-slack beneath him. Now, she wouldn't even remember that she had once loved a man—a pity in a way, for the thought would never torment her again—but now she was his. A shell, a doll, but completely his.
Marinne's dead eyes slowly turned and looked at Vargralar expectantly, and the necromancer stared back with his own crimson embers. In a way, Vargralar was disappointed; the girl would feel no more terror from him, but she had reached her limit and any more torment would have killed her anyway. This way, at least, she was broken properly; broken his way.
Holding her hand firmly, Vargralar led his newest doll back to his lair to join the others in his doll room, some standing or sitting placidly as they waited for him to play with them, others shackled to the dungeon walls, limp and blank-faced. Looking down dully at her own ever so pale skin, the new doll noticed idly that for the first time, she could see in the total darkness of her Master's lair.
Amused but not comprehending, the Marinne-doll giggled.
"Hee hee hee..."
~Finis~
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