The chains rubbed at Beornfred's wrists - no silver, thankfully, but though the skin rubbed raw kept healing, that just meant he got to experience that the pain of wounds never ebbed into something manageable. It was fresh every time.
Something the Lady didn't understand. She only saw her faithful werewulf, her nigh immortal assassin, monster hunter, and bodyguard. She thought nothing of the pain he endured for every sword, arrow, and claw he'd taken to his body as a result of his oath to her. The noblewoman turned alchemist stood before him in the damp and dark dungeon she'd consigned him to.
Lady Sinna Vergewaltigen was a short, slim woman. Her almost silver blonde hair ran straight, and she typically kept it unbound - tying it in a bun only when necessary to keep it out of the way of her alchemical workings.
"I've finally cracked it, you know," her slightly accented Saxon was still melodious. "I thought it was your blood that contained the secret of your gift-"
"Curse." Beornfred growled. "The terms of my oath were clear. You don't ask me to spread the curse, and I kill for you."
The Lady tilted her head to the side, then stepped forward and lightly traced her fingernails across Beornfred's chest. "And who broke the compact first, mein wulf?" she purred, as her fingernails traced a loose circle.
Beornfred stayed silent - she was technically right, although what she'd asked had been unconscionable. Even for a monster.
"They were children, Sinna-"
The rest of his words were lost as she slapped him across the face. "You got to use my given name when you were in my graces. You will now address me by my title."
He growled, but kept his mouth shut. The Lady smiled, and didn't press the issue.
"Well, regardless - it isn't your blood I need. Your curse has run in your family, yes?" She didn't wait for a reply, turning away to gather some of the supplies she'd brought into his dreary cell.
"It made me take a different tack. The curse on your family is magical in nature, yes - but magic is merely a term for a different way of interacting with the natural world, so your curse needs a physical carrier. I thought - prompted by your description of its effects - that it was like some disease, borne in the blood. Then perhaps the saliva. In both cases, you would've inadvertently infected countless people by now. But there's one area that I know you're particularly careful in...one vice you show an uncharacteristic iron control of..."
His blood ran cold. She had indeed figured it out.
The Lady turned with a sly smile, a glass vial in one hand. With her other, she pulled at the string at the front of her bodice. "All that control...I always wondered. Many men like you I've employed have tried to bed me at some point or another, but not you. And I've seen the way you look at me." She sighed. "It was a pity really - you were one of the few I might've let into my chambers. Nonetheless..." In one fluid motion, the knot came undone, and her dress opened. She slipped it all of the way off with a practiced nonchalance, and stood before him nude.
A vast hunger filled him as his eyes travelled up and down her form. She was soft without being plump, and her curves felt full without being obese. She had a small bush of blonde hair that her now-free hand trailed down to as she continued slinking up to Beornwulf.
It had been so long. The only time he'd felt safe allowing himself release was with his own kind - and The Lady had ordered him to kill all of them. Couldn't risk one of her rivals getting a wulf of their own.
"Oh, poor little puppy," she cooed, eyeing him as she approached. "You aren't going to get to enjoy any of this," she waved her hand dismissively at her form, "But don't worry. I know your hands are occupied, so I am going to help.."
Her eyes strayed to his groin, where - despite his anger - he had grown hard at the sight and sound of the Lady. The smell from her sex betrayed her desire as well - she was in heat, regardless of her seeming poise.
She chuckled drily as she melted to her knees before him, reaching up to caress his cock through his clothes with an infuriatingly light touch. Hot lightning coursed through his body as she teased, the mounting passion matched only by his growing frustration. "Not that you'll need much, it looks like. So backed up..." Her light fingers found the drawstring that held his threadbare pants up, and tugged on it.
As his pants fell down, his cock sprang forth - though he was tired and malnourished, the nature of his curse meant that his primal functions - fighting, fucking, killing - were not only unharmed, they were sharper then ever.
The Lady's eyes widened as she took in the sight of him, and her pupils dilated. "My, my...even more of a shame than I'd thought." Her cool fingers closed around his cock, and she gave the slightest, most gentle of strokes. A feral growl escaped his lips against his will, and she laughed.
"You poor creature...is this tormenting you?" Her eyes sparkled with delight at his frustration, and her touch became even lighter - just the tips of her fingers did one quick pass up and down the length of his shaft.
