Revenge: Princess Downfall

Warning: This is a very dark story containing many disturbing themes such as noncon, humiliation, degradation, corruption, sexual slavery, misogyny, sadomasochism and more. Do not read this story unless you are okay with extreme content relating to the listed themes.

I do not condone or endorse any of the activities described in this story. Sexual fantasies can be a fun and safe way to explore fetishes but always treat real people with respect. Fantasize responsibly. ^^

~~~~~

Dread studied himself in the mirror. A familiar stranger looked back at him. His right eye, pink and glowing, still registered as odd and out of place on his face. The new, midnight-black fingers of his right hand were hard and heavier than his natural fingers, but he couldn't complain. They worked perfectly fine, and he could still use them to throttle an uppity princess bitch.

After two serious wounds in the recent past, Dread was forced to confront his sloppiness. Vakiir and Eloth prevented any permanent damage, but he needed to be better. Every injury he suffered allowed the gods to tighten the lead of his leash. He pulled a black leather glove over his new hand, hiding the strange fingers.

The Painted Vale had been annihilated. He'd rampaged for many hours, according to his pets, but remembered only bits and pieces. The simmering outrage caused by his injuries, compounded by Viyana's injury, boiled over and completely overwhelmed his will. Trying to control a fully inflamed Vakiir had been like trying to negotiate with a tempest.

Turning, Dread's mouth twisted up in a sinister smile. Restrained to a chair, a gag blocked Mantlin's puffy lips, and the pretty boy's eyes followed Dread's every move with apprehension. The young man had harmed Viyana, and he would pay dearly for his insolence.

Viyana rested and recovered in another room, sleeping off her injuries, and Dread hoped she would heal soon. She'd come so close to dying. Simply remembering the blade striking towards her lifeless form caused Vakiir to howl in his mind, and the god's roar sounded so much louder than ever before.

"What happened to the Vale was your fault," Dread said to Mantlin. He lingered nearby and sneered down at the artist. "Watching your home burn will pale compared to what I have planned for you and sweet Myla."

A muffled shout sounded from behind Mantlin's gag.

The door flung open. Elaxia stood in the doorway, breathless. "Master," she said.

"Yes, pet?" Dread asked.

Her eyebrows furrowed into a cute knot of concern. "Goren is dead."

"What? How?" Dread asked.

"An assassin ended him in the night. He posed as you while we were gone so the killer thought they struck at you, but Goren took the blade."

Only apathy stirred in Dread upon hearing of the man's death. Goren had never been special, and he was easily replaced. The brightest of Dread's affections, reserved for Viyana and Elaxia rather than a common thug, registered as lukewarm, at best. Goren meant nothing to him.

Dread shrugged. "Better him than me," he said.

"I agree," Elaxia said. "Much better."

"What of Aelodi?" Dread asked.

"She most enjoyed her time with Wreven's men," Elaxia said, smirking. "I had to practically drag her away."

So, he had his mindless sex princess back, and now he also held her younger sister. Time to break Myla, the half-fairy cunt.

Eloth breathed wetly in Dread's mind. "Fuck the fairy bitch until she snaps. Gape her, choke her, and devour her innocence."

The god of corruption echoed Dread's own thoughts. Dread moved to open the door and find Myla to harass her, but Elaxia caught him in a tight hug. He wrestled down irritation at the obstruction.

"Master," Elaxia murmured. "Are you okay?"

Dread hardened in response to her unwanted concern. "I'm fine."

"The Vale," Elaxia said. "I have never seen you like that. It was like you weren't really there. The look in your eyes..."

"Oh, it's me," Dread assured her. He kissed her forehead. "My power is even greater than I knew."

Elaxia looked up at him with pretty orange eyes. "That's the thing, master. Are you using the power, or is the power using you?"

Dread forced a smile on his face and patted her head. "I'm in control."

"So, you wanted to destroy the Vale?" she asked, unconvinced.

"To be honest, I hated the city from the moment we arrived," Dread said. "After what they did to Viyana, I needed to teach them a lesson. No one hurts my pets."

The enchantress smiled, and her concerns seemed to dissipate. "So you destroyed an entire city as an act of love?"

No, it hadn't been an act of love at all. His rampage in the Vale had been an alarming loss of control. Raw rage let loose. But he saw no need to correct her optimistic notion. He would not lose control again.

Dread shrugged and smiled. "I guess there's a romantic in me after all," he said.

Elaxia shook her head and giggled. Dread pulled her in for a controlling hug.

"Thank you, pet," Dread said.

"For what, master?" Elaxia asked, nestled in his arms.

"For standing by me," he said. "I know what happened in the Vale couldn't be easy for you."

Elaxia was silent for a moment. "It was scary, but I'm just glad you're back." She squeezed him.

"I need to see Myla now," Dread said. He untangled himself from Elaxia and set to move out of the room.

"About that," Elaxia said. "I tried to use my magic on her, but it didn't work."

"It didn't?" Dread asked.

"No," Elaxia said, shaking her head. "The enchantment dissipated as soon as it touched her."

"Are your powers working?" Dread asked.

"Yes," Elaxia said. "I used them to cause that one--" Elaxia nodded at Mantlin "-- to remain passive while I held him in the Vale."

Eloth slurped in Dread's mind. "Fairies possess some natural immunity to magic. Myla must have inherited that resistance."

So, the half-fairy cunt couldn't be manipulated with Elaxia's charms? No matter. He didn't need magic to ruin her.

Dread unlocked the door to the room that served as Myla's cage. She stood at a closed window, staring outside, his wistful little songbird. A delightfully delicate girl with a dense mane of pink hair. A muted, barely perceptible melody hummed from the princess, and her head bobbed subtly in time to the tune. His entrance failed to attract her attention, she was seemingly absorbed in her humming. Dread's eyes lingered on the curve of her firm little ass jutting through the fabric of her skirt.

"Princess Myla," Dread said, a hard edge in his voice.

The girl started and twirled to face him. The little ditty she hummed died on her full lips. She shot him a look of confused surprise, as if astonished to discover he existed. Shock quickly melted into animalistic fear, and her slender shoulders hunched. The sweet, adorable girl tried to take a step back, but she was already pressed against the wall.

Dread took a long stride towards her, drawing closer.

Myla rested a hand flat against the wall, bracing herself, and the strained bosom of her blouse heaved with shallow breath. Skittish, her gaze darted around, searching for escape, but she found no paths of retreat. So, her pale green eyes drifted slowly back to Dread.

"Do you know who I am?" Dread asked.

Myla opened her mouth but then quickly closed it. She swallowed a lump in her throat before nodding but gave no verbal answer.

"Who am I?" Dread asked, taking another step closer.

"The monster," Myla whispered. Her pale, slim arms stretched out to ward him away in a distinctly defensive posture. "You destroyed the Vale."

Dread took another step closer, and her frail hands quivered inches from his chest, trying to block him with silky palms. A laughable defense. This pretty little thing had a fragile form suited for the softer parts of life. She belonged on slow paced pony rides, in grand dining halls wearing fine dresses, or on stage dazzling audiences with her artistic talents. A pampered beauty like her had no place on a battlefield, but Dread waged war against her anyway. Her attempt to block his inevitable approach with her frail arms emphasized her inability to fight and stirred great humor in him. Myla was a very pretty, distinctive, colorful flower, but she was totally vulnerable. Her attempts to defend herself physically were very amusing.

"I'm Dread," he said. "Have you heard of me?"

The pink princess nodded with narrowed eyes, lips puckered down in a pensive frown. "You are from the Dark Lands," she said softly. "You are evil, wicked, and vile."

Dread moved far too quickly for the gentle princess, who spoke every word as if she were singing a song. His hands darted forward and seized each of her pale, skinny wrists. He pinned her hands over her head and leaned against her, face just inches from hers. He towered over her, and his knee parted her legs.

Overcoming her feeble barrier of self-protection had been laughably easy but disturbed the pink-haired princess to her core. Myla's striking pale green eyes widened, and her legs shivered with terror. The youngest princess looked up at him, and he was impressed to find her putting on a brave face. Her body trembled, fear tenuously controlled, but she schooled her face into mild defiance.

"I broke your sister's mind," Dread said. "Snapped it like an overdrawn bowstring. I'm going to do the same to you."

"No, thank you," Myla said. Despite trembling, her voice came out strong and musical. "I refuse."

Dread barked a laugh at her polite rebuke. He easily manhandled the frail girl, but she maintained a haughty tone and the unwavering pride suited to a princess. Myla glowered at his laugh, and her cute little mouth curved down in a show of disapproval.

"I'm a fair man," Dread said. "So, I'm going to give you a chance. A way to earn your freedom."

"How?" Myla asked. "I want to part ways with you. You are most unpleasant." The girl's precious face crinkled like she smelled a nasty odor.

"All you need to do is win a talent contest," Dread said, sneering. "I'll be hosting one starting tomorrow at a theater in the middle district. You will take part."

"Oh yes," Myla said, smiling. "I accept." The half-fairy girl met his gaze defiantly, suddenly confident. "I will win handily. I always get what I want."

She always got what she wanted? Dread thought Myla probably spoke true. He remembered her otherworldly performance and how it manipulated his mind. The bewitching fairy princess possessed a potent aura of raw beauty, and her ethereal voice enforced her will. The palace servants, her parents, and her sisters likely stood no chance of resisting her demands, but Dread was different. His resolve had been hardened by carrying the essence of two ancient gods in his soul. A little fairy bitch's paltry magic presented no real threat to him.

Dread released her wrists, and she massaged them, looking askance at his sudden mercy. He found the hem of her blouse, and his fingers snaked up to play along the soft, pale flesh on the sides of her tummy. Running his fingertips up her abdomen lifted her blouse, and he caught a sneaky peek at her tiny belly button. Myla squeaked in alarm as his fingers brushed the bottoms of her ribs, nearly exposing her brassiere, and she seized her blouse with her hands, jamming it down and stopping his exploration of her body.

"The contest will take place over several days and involves six events," Dread said. "A panel of judges will determine the winner of each event."

Flustered by his curious fingers, Myla blushed up at him, her face a mix of confusion and worry. Despite her attempt to act composed, her lower body shook around his knee. Plainly nervous, the girl barely contained her growing anxiety.

"Are you a judge?" Myla said.

"No," Dread said.

"Well, that is a blessing, at least," the princess said. "I will surely win."

Seeking to display his power over his newest slave, Dread grabbed a handful of her plush pink hair. The locks were as soft as they looked. Twisting his grip, Dread sneered as the princess released a panicked yelp. Lifting, he forced the beloved princess to hobble about on her tiptoes in order to relieve the pressure on her scalp. The added stress of his rough touch strained her body, and her back arched, causing her breasts to strain the buttons of her blouse.

"As an added incentive," Dread said. "I won't fuck you silly until after you lose." He spoke false but who could hold him accountable?

Myla huffed and whimpered, unable to respond, so he let up on her hair. He wanted to hear what the sweet fairy girl had to say. She took a moment to smooth out her mussed-up hair and shot him an indignant glare before speaking.

"I never lose," Myla said. "Especially not on stage. You are making a mistake, monster."

"We'll see," Dread said, leering at her. "When you do lose, you'll become my sex slave."

"Sex slave?" Myla asked. A look of disgust twisted her stunning face. Her expression of repulsion made his cock twitch.

"I do not favor sex nor slavery. I reject your proposal," the princess concluded.

She spoke so matter-of-factly, like the matter had already been decided. Yes, despite being a rare and exquisite beauty, Myla was still just a coddled princess at her core.

Dread chuckled and caught the princess with a hand around her dainty neck. Squishing her soft, surprisingly curvy body against his chest caused Myla to yowl. Even her cries of disquiet were musical. Lithe limbs thrashed against him, trying desperately to free herself, but she really was a weak, easily bullied little thing.

Dread's hands found her toned bum, and he busied himself in kneading her muscular cheeks, lifting them, and then parting them. Her flesh was obscured by her stockings, but the undergarment was thin, and he still enjoyed an intimate exploration of her rear. What a rear end it was, too. Myla's ass might be more compact than her sister's but it was impossibly round, tight, and tempting. When he released his molesting grip, the tight peach shape of her bum quickly returned to it's original perky position.

Part of him wanted to ravage her right then and there, but his plan would be more fun, and more effective, in the long run. Brutally and swiftly slamming his cock inside her would conquer her body, but he wanted to enslave her mind and desecrate her soul.

Dread released Myla and stood back to watch with a leering grin as the girl fixed her disheveled outfit. Once her skirt fell back into place, she made one last attempt at freeing herself, and the sudden nature of her surprise attack caught Dread off guard.

"Monster?" a soft voice asked, words wielding a melody.

Dread met the princess's lime green eyes and froze. His thoughts stumbled, lethargic, and reason fled. She fluttered thick, pink eyelashes up at him, lips pursed, and her eyes were so large. Dread found himself submerged in liquid lime green pools, rapidly sinking into comforting, cool depths.

"Please let me go," Myla sang softly. "I will love you forever. Free me. You very much want to because I am a sweet girl and you love me. I will love you too, monster, just set me free. Please."

Her words invaded his ears, bouncing around inside his skull, and he found himself desperate to comply. Dread dug his nails into his palm until they drew blood. The pain gave him the awareness to seal his mind against her influence. She dared to try and bewitch him?

Reaching out, Dread shoved two fingers into her singing mouth and fish-hooked a soft cheek. The princess's pale green eyes widened, and she blabbered wordlessly around his fingers. Dread popped his fingers out of her mouth. The princess drew in a deep, furious breath.

"You do not listen!" she exclaimed, flabbergasted. "Everyone listens to me!"

"I don't want your love, slut," he snarled. "I want you naked on the street, begging men to rape you. I want to see you reduced to the shameless set of fuckholes you truly are."

Dread spat onto Myla's face, and the half-fairy girl flinched. A glob of his drool dripped from her adorable nose. The look of shocked indignity she wore made him even harder.

"Disgusting," Myla said, trembling violently once more. Lifting a shaky hand, she wiped her face on a sleeve, but her attempt only smeared his spit across her face. "You are foul."

"Try to influence me again and I'll punish you," Dread snarled. "Give me the chance, and I'd love to teach you some manners with my cock, contest be damned."

He left the room before she had another chance to try and manipulate his will. Dread needed to be careful around her.