He fucked me.
There's no other way to describe it. There was no warmth or pleasure in it. Nothing soft or loving. He deflowered me, and he fucked me. Hard and deep. The whole thing hurt so badly.
I didn't struggle; struggling wasn't allowed. All I could do was scream quietly and beg him to stop until he'd finished, and he'd filled me with his vile seed. That was an unforgettable sensation. It was the only thing he did to me that hadn't hurt, so my body registered the spreading warmth as enjoyable. I wanted to die.
I'm not even sure he did it for his own enjoyment. He just wanted to hurt me, put me in my place. To make me know that he was in charge and I was just his plaything. As much as I hated it, hated him, I knew it had worked.
When he allowed me to stand and turn to face him, I couldn't look him in the eyes. My tears wouldn't stop flowing down my face, although I'd stopped sobbing, thankfully.
I felt his seed trying to escape me, to run down my legs and ruin my dress. I had been ruined. Torn and broken. But I could save my dress at least. It was a random thought to cling to, but I did. Despite wanting to be rid of everything to do with this man, this "hero," I clenched my aching muscles to keep that stuff inside me.
All female mages in the kingdom were protected from unwanted pregnancy by special runes received in the academy. The Hero's mana inside me seemed capable of powering it, and I'd felt it activate when he'd filled me. So at least there was that.
But one question haunted me. Unable to look my **** in the eye, I settled on his chest, trying hard to keep my too-soft voice from cracking with emotion. "Why?"
He had already fully dressed and composed himself by the time I'd turned around. I wasn't sure if I were relieved or frustrated that I'd never gotten to actually see the cock he'd **** me with. It felt huge and painful, but I was a virgin, so I had no idea. Intellectually, it burned me up not to know.
"Hm?" Was all he said. He had moved to the shelves and was investigating the tomes. The fucker didn't even have the decency to act like anything had happened between us. Did I want him to?
"Why are you doing this to me?" I raised my voice as far as it would go, feeding my anger into it, but to my ears it still sounded shaky with fear.
The Hero looked at me. I didn't meet his eyes, but feeling them on me made my skin crawl. "Why? What kind of stupid question is that? Because I can? Because I want to? Pick one."
My heart ached. Was that really all there was to it? He did all this on a whim?
He plucked a relatively narrow book from the shelf and returned to me, shoving it into my arms. "I can't do the magic here, but you can. I've got some plans for this ass-crack kingdom. You're going to help me."
Trembling, I looked at the book in my hands and my heart sank. It was a series of essays on dark magic. Mind control, necromancy, **** spells, that sort of thing.
"No," I breathed, more in disbelief than defiance.
"Yes." He said firmly.
And I knew he was right. I would help him. I was tired, in pain, and so very very afraid of him. I would do anything he wanted of me. I told myself it was because of his magical hold on me and for no other reason. I had to believe that. No matter what he made me do, I had to believe that.
Comments