Light and Dar

Ash

I'm breathing hard as I walk down the alley way that will lead me to the portal back to my world. My cock is so hard and ready it's painful. It was all I could do not to just rip off those tight little jeans, prop her up on the driver's wheel, and fuck her.

"Christ," I whisper, reaching down to adjust. I'm tempted to turn around, walk back to the building her innocent ass sashayed into, and break down her door. She wouldn't be able to say no to me. Don't get me wrong- I don't force women. I've never had to. By the time I've spun her panic into lust she'll be confused, then conflicted, and then desperate. I've done it a thousand times.

What I want to do to her is very different from what I'm supposed to do to her- kill her. Although usually I have no compunctions, the idea of killing her repulses me. I shiver at the idea of the light in her eyes going cold and dead.

Instead, I imagine her eyes lowered, on her knees...

"Christ!" I repeat, shaking my head to dispel the fantasy as I begin the ritual spell that will open the gateway for me.

I am navigating through the drift now. It is a misty space, full of twirling fog that shimmers, laced with flickers of silver, shining greys, and pure whites. For the untrained, this place is death. You need to know where you are going.

The whisps of fog slide around my legs as I think, with single-minded focus, about where I am trying to go. I think about the dark landscapes, lush gardens, and my own rooms that lie within that world. I feel the mists begin to push me in a direction, so subtly that the untrained would miss it.

I feel a familiar sense of spacial distortion. It feels like falling, like losing orientation, unsure of where is up and where is down. I don't try to breathe- I know there is no oxygen. I close my eyes and feel the mists drift past my closed lids and caress my skin like a thousand soft fingers.

Then, there is a re-orientation. My feet feel the firm ground beneath them. I open my eyes to see a familiar sight. My kingdom. I breathe deeply, inhaling the warm, humid air that is scented from the lush flowers and jungle that surrounds my home. Relieved to be able to drop the stiff clumsy walk of humans, I glide forward, anticipating all of the comforts of my home.

My home is built into the side of a cliff, and its caverns stretch as far below the earth as they do into the sky. I perform another ritual spell at the entrance, a gigantic door that blends in with the mossy rock face of the cliff. The charmed locks slide back like butter at my command and the doors swing forward. My home is eager to receive me, it's master.

The heat intensifies as I walk through the grand hallway. As usual, it is full of people, half of whom I don't even know. They fall quiet as I pass them, but I pay them no mind, bent on one goal only.

In the crowd I spot one of my servants, a strange little man who has grass for hair. No one is clear on where exactly his talents lie, if he has any, but he is very respectful of authority and rather timid, both things that are unusual in my culture and things I value in a servant.

"Tip!" I don't have to shout his name loudly. My voice has a tendency to carry well in a room. His head snaps up, and he reaches up with a wooden looking arm to brush some moss and grass that hangs over his eyes in order to see me better. Slowly and with creaking steps, he makes his way over to me.

"M'lord?" his brown dew-drop eyes are wide and afraid.

"Fetch Lietta. Send her to my rooms." Without waiting for him to respond, I turn and wait for the crowd to part before striding towards the stairs. They take me deep, deep, into the earth, so far that the heat turns to cold and the loamy dirt walls become stone.

The entire bottom floor is my private domain. Servants and guests are only allowed there with my express permission. My rooms have a far more ancient feel than the garish gold and overstated carvings that grace the upper floors and cliff rooms. Runes are carved all over the floor and walls, some of them to protect me, others to be commanded by me, and others too old to understand.

As I walk, great stones slide away to reveal my private chamber. I leave it open behind me, knowing that Lietta will soon be here. Firelight throws flickering light onto the carved stone walls of the cavernous room and lights up the silken textures of my bed. I step closer to the huge fire that burns in the alcove carved into the wall and take off my shirt, which is still wet from the rains in that human world. I find myself thinking once again of the way that girl's dampened hair stuck to her face, those full lips that I wanted to kiss, to fuck-

"My lord?" the low, feminine voice is shy.

I turn around to see Lietta standing by the doorway, her head bowed subserviently. I know very well that her timidity is an act to arouse me- for her to play the blushing maid, resistant, like that girl from earlier today, trying to push me away even though her body yearned for me to claim it- stop thinking about her- she will be dead soon.

I growl out my aggression at that thought, and quickly stalk across the room. Lietta looks up, and her cornflower-blue eyes widen as she sees me approach, my frustration and impatience clearly palpable. She is a great actress, so good that it is difficult for me to tell whether the look of fright in her eyes is real or feigned. No matter- I like it when they're a little afraid of me. I can taste the adrenaline in them that way.

I stop when we are nose to nose, our bodies just barely touching. I look down at her, her flushed face, the lush blonde hair that curves down her back and supple bottom, her full lips and blue eyes. Her mouth parts in invitation, or supplication, and I lean in to sample her. Her mouth moves skillfully against mine as I grab her waist roughly, pulling her against me. She moans breathily and throws me a kittenish look, no doubt something that was passed on to her by some mentoring whore. I appreciate it- it makes me want to make her mewl more.

"What do you want, sweet thing?" my fingers run up her spine until they reach her cascade of hair. I grip her tresses at the nape, forcing her to tilt her head back as I lean in to kiss and bite at her neck.

"Whatever my lord desires," she replies in a strained voice, breathing hard, her bosom straining against her tight slip.

"That's right," I whisper back, licking the shell of her ear. "Whatever I desire. I could fuck these lips," I lean in to kiss her, biting her full lower lip. "I could torture you," my hand quickly pinches a nipple, and she whines. "I could tie you up," I breathe against her ear, gathering her wrists and raising them up to the wall, so she is on her toes. My other hand slips between her straining thighs to find her wet center, and I hear her sharp intake of breath as I touch her. "I could fuck you here," I murmur, sliding a finger inside her and then withdrawing only to slide it up to her tight bottom. "Or here." I add a little pressure, threatening, but not penetrating-yet. "Well, pet? What do you say?"

"Yes, my lord. Anything. Whatever you desire." She looks up at me hungrily, and I sense that this is an authentic feeling. Worship is written across her face- it is not a part of her seductive act. Good. I want her to take alms in my bed.

"Get on the bed. All fours," I command her. She obeys, languidly crawling onto the silks and then curving her back nicely so that the inviting curves of her naked bottom peak out from beneath the edges of her slip. From this angle, with her blonde hair cascading around her shoulders, I can almost imagine that the woman presenting herself to me, waiting for my cock, is Iris.

Maybe if I can satisfy my lust I can stop thinking about that girl, how much I want to lick, suck, and fuck her, how totally fucking innocent those eyes were when they looked up at me, how beautiful she looked when she flushed, and how deeply it unsettles me that she will be dead soon- that I might be the one to kill her. Irritation burns in my veins- I hate having things that I cannot control.

"Spread those fucking legs," I growl, "and take that slip off. I want you naked."

Lietta obeys quickly, not wanting to anger me. When she is completely bare to my gaze she looks back at me with a supplicant gaze. She can sense that I will be rough on her tonight, and she hopes that her little signals, her submission, will gentle me. She's misguided- I need to take out my frustrations on her body, and she will have to take it.

I get on the bed behind her and splay one hand over her upper back, pushing her chest into the sheets while her ass remains high in the air. I begin rubbing the curve of her bottom, readying it.

"Will you take the pain I give you tonight, little slut?" I dip a finger between her lower lips, sliding it inside to test her warm heat.

"Yes," she pants. Her voice is already hoarse, and I haven't even begun.

"Good." My hand comes down sharply, my palm smacking sharply against her ass, and some of my thirst is slaked as I hear the first of her cries.

"What do you say?" My hand comes down harder, and her next cry is pained.

"Thank you, my lord," she grinds out, glancing back at me with fear and arousal.

"Try again. Who am I?" I spank her again, appreciating how her luscious skin pinks and reddens from the punishment. I may not have total control of everything right now, but I have this measure of control, at least.

"Thank you, my prince," she stumbles on the last part as my hand comes down again with a sharp smack.

"That's right," I growl, gripping her hair, making her curve her back and push her bottom out even more. I rub her reddened cheeks, and she moans, her eyes shuttering closed. I reach down to slide my pants down my thighs, freeing my aching cock. I line it up with her creamy entrance, teasing her with the tip while her position is still held taught.

"Now," I murmur softly, "will you take your prince's cock?"