5. Catandria

5

CATANDRIA

I can’t believe I’m actually doing this .

The metallic tang of blood hangs heavy in the dank air as I kneel beside one of the fallen guards, my fingers brushing against the iciness of the key ring. My heart thrums a frantic rhythm against my ribcage, a drumbeat to the chaos unfolding around me. The keys feel like a lifeline, a tangible promise of the power I so desperately crave.

With trembling hands, I find the correct key, the one that will unlock the cell before me. The demons eyes, a swirl of infernal flames, watch my every move with an intensity that makes my skin prickle.

"Don't worry about the chains," he says, his voice a low rumble that seems to resonate within the very marrow of my bones. "I have a... particular fondness for restraints."

I nod slowly. My attention is drawn to the heavy chains that bind him, each link glowing with an otherworldly light. His form is both terrifying and mesmerizing, a study in contrasts—scarred, yet flawless; monstrous, yet captivating.

"Touch me," he orders, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. "Show me how badly you want your freedom."

"…Okay."

Hesitantly, I reach out, pulling down the fabric that covers his penis. My fingertips grazing the heated flesh of his manhood. A gasp escapes my lips as a jolt of energy courses through me, a sensation both unfamiliar and exhilarating. His body arches into my touch, a guttural moan echoing off the stone walls.

"You're not what I expected," I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckles, the sound rich and deep. "And what did you expect, little one?"

I blush, realizing the absurdity of my situation. "I... I don't know."

"I will give you the power you seek," he purrs, hissing in a breath as my hand clenches around his penis and moves at a quick pace. "But it comes at a price."

I steel myself, prepared to agree to any terms. "Name it."

"Bend over," he instructs, his tone leaving no room for hesitation. "Take me like the good human you are. And maybe then, I'll consider your request more seriously."

My breath hitches as I stand before him, the weight of his gaze a palpable force against my skin. I'm acutely aware of the cold stone beneath my feet, the rough fabric of my dress brushing against my thighs, and the heavy, oppressive silence that envelops us.

I swallow hard, my heart pounding like a war drum in my chest. My mind races with the implications of what I'm about to do, but I push the thoughts aside. This is for my freedom, for my vengeance.

I will do whatever it takes.

With trembling limbs, I turn away from him, presenting my back as I widen my stance. The cool air of the dungeon teases the bare skin of my legs, sending goosebumps rippling across my flesh. I feel exposed, vulnerable, and yet, the thrill of what's to come courses through my veins like wildfire.

"Wider," he urges, a hint of impatience creeping into his tone. "And spread your cunt for me. Let me see what you're offering."

My face burns with shame at his crude words, but I comply, my hands moving almost of their own accord. I feel the fabric of my dress ride up as I expose myself to him, the cool air hitting my flushed skin.

"Good girl," he purrs, and despite the degradation of my position, I can't help but revel in his approval. There's something about this demon that draws me in, a magnetism that I can't quite understand.

I hear the subtle rasp of chains as he shifts in his confinement, the sound reminder of the power dynamic at play. He is chained, yet I am the one who feels trapped, ensnared by the promise of freedom and the intoxicating allure of the forbidden.

The icy air of the dungeon kisses my bared skin, sending a shiver cascading down my spine. My breaths come in short, shallow gasps, each one fogging briefly before me. I'm acutely aware of the demon behind me, his presence a palpable force that seems to consume the very air I breathe.

I hear it before I feel it—the sharp, decisive snap of chains giving way. The sound ricochets off the stone walls, a reminder of the raw power that now stands unbound.

His hands are on me in an instant, rough yet strangely gentle as they explore the curves of my body. I can't suppress the gasp that escapes my lips as he yanks my dress up, exposing me fully to his gaze. His fingers trail the length of my opening, teasing me slowly.

I'm used to having my body used for sex, but this—this is different.

This is a choice, my choice, and the power of that realization sets my blood aflame.

He enters me with a single, forceful thrust, the sheer size of him stretching me in ways I've never known. I cry out, the sound echoing off the stone walls as he sets a brutal, unrelenting pace. There's pain, yes, but it's mingled with a fierce, untamed pleasure that threatens to consume me whole.

"You're mine now," he snarls, his fingers digging into my hips as he drives into me again and again. "Say it. Say you're mine."

"I'm yours," I gasp, the words torn from my very soul. And in this moment, I mean them. Every fiber of my being is attuned to him, to the demon who holds my fate in his hands.

With each powerful thrust, I feel myself changing, transforming into something wild and untamed. My skin tingles with raw energy, a sensation that's both exhilarating and terrifying. I'm acutely aware of the shift in power dynamics, the way my body responds to his with an intensity that borders on madness.

"Fuck," he groans, his movements growing erratic as he chases his release. "You're so tight, so hot. You were made for this, weren't you?"

I can't form a coherent response, my mind lost to the sensory overload that is this demon claiming me as his own. My body trembles on the precipice of something monumental, a climax that promises to shatter me into a thousand pieces.

A guttural roar escapes him. In the haze of pleasure, it dawns upon me what I've done. His nails claws into my flesh. He grips me tight. And with a deep breath, I peek over my shoulder to glance at him pounding me from behind.

He's in his full demon form. And I've given myself to him willingly.