Companies of heroic soldiers advanced, clashing with wild bands of Orcish defenders, driving toward the battlements across a rock-strewn field. Iron pierced flesh, splintered bones and spilled blood on dry cracked earth; cries of triumph mixed with anguished screams of death, and flashes of sinister magic lit the very air afire. The brave soldiers advanced; orcs fell before their might or fled the battle entirely. A powerful sorceress made her appearance on the battlefield, swaying the fight in her favor for a time, summoning horrifying creatures with hot black scaly hides, teeth like wet knives and claws of sharpened bone.
The valiant warriors rallied and faced them down, surrounding and defeating each nightmare in turn. The witch unleashed fire and destruction on the soldiers and her orc warriors alike, incinerating many, wounding more. Through the chaos, bold warriors pressed on. With her magic expended and under a withering fire of arrows, the sorceress was forced to retreat, flying back to the safety of her stone tower. Little did she know that one hero foresaw her retreat and was waiting inside.
He surprised the sorceress in her private refuge set high in the tower, disarming and overpowering the witch. She trembled before his might.
"Your evil dies here and now!" Said Sir Darylius with cutlass held high overhead, poised to strike the killing blow. The evil sorceress, on her knees and defeated, cowered on the chamber's stone floor, crystals and silver rings dangled from her pierced ears, big green eyes filled with tears, sensuous crimson painted lips opened slightly, her lower lip trembled.
"Your foul witchcraft will curse this land no..." His hand eased as she sniffled in a most distracting manner, a single tear ran down her cheek. "Now... now stop that crying this instant!" Darylius gestured backwards with his sword. "You just burned two whole villages to the ground, young lady, not to mention summoning that army of demons to devour the souls of the living! Now it's time to take your medicine and pay for your evil deeds!"
Darylius's dark pointy mustache wriggled with righteous fury and he aimed the tip of his sword at the witch's helpless but slender and attractive throat. "Before I... smite you," he relaxed a bit. "Do you have any last words?"
Still trembling on the floor, the sorceress was clad only in her short and revealing silken black dress, a lock of raven hair fell across her face; she brushed it aside and looked up at the hero and then sadly shook her head. "I... I don't know why I did it sir... I'm sorry about the village and demons and all... I didn't mean to hurt so many people. I never wanted to be evil, it just kind of happened, it's just that..." She sighed. "My family has magic in its blood..."
She bit her quivering lower lip, choking back a sob. "When your name is Sinestria Bloodhex the Damned it's hard to live a normal life." She shook her head sadly. "But that's no excuse for what I did sir."
"Well, I should say not!" Darylius lowered his blade but wagged a finger at the young sorceress. "Do you have any idea what kind of damage you caused? The whole kingdom is in an uproar, trade disrupted, farms abandoned, foul beasts stalk the land... and then you even used your vile magic to turn the king's son, the crown prince, into a monkey!"
"Gibbon."
"Er what?"
"Sir," she timidly said. "I turned the prince into a gibbon, not a monkey."
"Oh... uh... well, be that as it may, you have single handedly brought this country to the brink... now what do you have to say for yourself?"
He watched as she looked down sadly, slender shoulders slumped as though she felt ashamed of her mischievous behavior. She must, Darylius thought, at last be realizing the error of her evil ways.
"You're right sir..." Her lower lip quivered, her voice broke, and she sobbed pitifully in front of him. Sir Darylius, being virtuous and noble, produced a silk handkerchief for the young lady to dry her tears.
Presently she calmed herself, and continued in a sad trembling voice. "I'm sorry, I never meant to be so villainous... it just got out of control... it all started when I was just a child, I learned a minor spell or little curse to use around the village... nothing much, I would conjure a little sparkle to amuse my friends, I cursed a boy who pulled my hair with an itch. I enjoyed it and... and I did it again and again and it just got out of hand. Once I got started to take pleasure in the power... I just wanted more and more."
"More... villains always want more." Darylius spoke his thoughts out loud.
"Sir?"
"Oh... I was just thinking. Out of all the villains I've ever smited, that is the key to all of their descents into evil." Darylius explained. "They're never satisfied with having enough- they always want more."
"Sir," The sorceress's big emerald green eyes sparkled as she looked up at the brave warrior. "Are you going to smite me now?"
Darylius took a long look at his trusty cutlass, before turning his attention back to the young witch.
"Hmm... if I were to spare your life witch... would you pledge to abandon this life of evil, and never again harm an innocent?"
"Y...Yes sir."
"And help undo the damage you've wrought?"
"Y...Yes sir."
"Know that if I spare your life, you're still going to be punished for your crimes miss, severely."
"Yes sir, I know..." She stared at the floor. "I deserve it."
Sir Darylius unbuckled the thick leather belt and placed the scabbard and sword on a table. Doubling the belt in his hand, he slapped it against his palm impatiently. "Stand up, young lady."
She nervously got to her feet, trying not to cry while Darylius dragged one of those straight backed wooden chairs (that always seemed to be around in these sorts of situations) directly to the center of the round chamber.
Darylius sat and pulled the sorceress across his lap. Her skimpy black silk dress rode up high on her thighs as she bent forward, silvery thread formed a subtle spider web pattern across the delicate ebony fabric. The witch's plump bottom filled the dress well, though when she bent further the fabric rode even higher giving Darylius yet another shock.
"Young lady! Why... you aren't even wearing any undergarments!"
The witch shyly turned her head. "Uh... no sir."
"What do you have to say for yourself? Something like this could give you a very bad reputation!"
"Um well... I had the hardest time finding a black spider web pattern dress made from actual spider silk... I just couldn't find anything to match."
"Hmm..." Darylius said. "The scandalous way you dress yourself could be part of your behavioral problem... it's unbecoming a lady... no more spider motifs for you! A proper young lady should wear cheerful colors, maybe a pink dress with a picture of a kitten or a unicorn on it."
"Ugh... right." The witch groaned in disgust.
"Don't you use that tone with me, missy. You're in quite enough trouble already! As for this villainous outfit of yours... I think I'll just get it out of the way."
Darylius peeled the thin silken fabric up while the sorceress lifted and wiggled her hips, allowing him to bare the flawless skin of her evil buttocks. She made no effort to protest; accepting her sad fate as Darylius's hand smoothed silken fabric back, exposing her round bottom cheeks. She took a quick breath, bit her trembling lower lip and waited.
Whack! She flinched as pain flashed white hot. The leather smacked loudly against her tender pale skin, striking mercilessly, repeatedly, on the generous curves of her bottom.
