Kissed by Darkness

Kissed by Darkness

by Stained Lips

Rating: NC-17

Status: WIP (9 chapters at full th) th)

Warnings: Slash/Yaoi (meaning men having sex with men!), Angst, BDSM, Blood, Graphic and Brutal Rape, Graphic and Brutal Violence and Death, Graphic and Brutal Torture, Mind Control, Sacrilege

Summary: A story of ultimate corruption.

Author's Notes:

This story is based on a role playing game that a wonderful author named Love and I are still in the progress of playing. Raven Covrus is based upon a character created by Love.

~*This is a fantasy based story. It is not in anyway historically or even geographically correct. It in no way relates to any timelines or ancient cultures, nor does it in anyway relate to any TV, book, anime, ect. series. This comes straight from my own wacked out mind. I make the rules, and anything I say is because I say it is. Do not try and rationalize any part of this story.*~

***DO NOT read this story if you in anyway have a weak stomach or are a religious person. This story contains graphic scenes of extreme sex, rape, violence, death, and religious sacrilege. I repeat: This story is religiously and even humanly offensive!!! Further more, this story is sl Tha That means it contains graphic scenes of men having sex with men. If you are in any way faint of heart or homophobic do not read this!!! I take no responsibility for anyone's choice to read this story.***

Dedication: To Love for not only inspiring me to write this, but also for inspiring me on a daily basis.

Chapter 1 Fading Light

He was like a deity of midnight on that bright spring day. The sun's golden rays were dancing across the pale blue, cloudless sky. A valley of trees seemed to reach up towards the top of the sun soaked dome of the heavens, and the grass was lush and green, alive with growth and prosperity as it receded from the dense forest, elevating gradually into a hill.

A rumbling stampede had announced his arrival, the ground seeming to tremble gently with the pounding of hooves and feet until he was revealed in all his glory, a complete contrast to the new life of spring budding around them. His ebony hair flowed wildly behind him as the wind rushed it's tresses, soon cascading down a well formed back dressed all in black, tousling gently about his form, and sweeping around his waist as his midnight black stallion came to a halt. His skin was as pale as moon light, delicate ivory. His eyes shined red like the brightest rubies, glittering in the day, the scarlet irises seeming to bleed into the whites, a speck of a pupil set in the center like a black diamond.

Gods, he was beautiful"¦. Though that's not what Cyrus Produxi had let himself think as he stared intently at the man, rushing like a black knight with an entire army behind him storming the battle field, coming to a stop at the top of the lush hill, Cyrus and his men standing proud, outlining the thick woods"¦. At least that's not what he had had let himself think consciously in those moments.

He remembered being completely entranced, and enthralled. He told himself that he was just focusing, that he was not awe struck by not only Raven's beauty, but by his powerful stature and presence. He wasn't inspired, and intrigued by him"¦. No. He told himself that he was repulsed and disgusted. He was angered and maddened by the horrible things this man had done to neighboring villages. To Cyrus, Raven Covrus was pure evil, completely vile"¦. At l tha that's what he told himself before the loud clashing of steel meeting steel and blood curdling cries of war filled the air, the once full and vibrant grass stomped into blood soaked dirt.

~*~

Yes, Cyrus remembered that day well. It's what he was focusing on as he sat in the garden courtyard that day, quill in hand, paper laying blank before him on the stone table, a small ink well set to the right of the parchment.

The mid afternoon sun was shining brightly down on in the garden outside the magnificent church, almost seeming to beam directly down on golden hair, kissing the long tresses with bright rays. On a normal day, in his normal life, Cyrus would have been beaming right along with the sun. His broad features would have been smiling happily, his honey, tanned skin stretched into a usual vibrant grin, bright blue eyes sparkling with vigor and life.

More than likely he would not be sitting where he was. The monk would have rather been out in the community, doing what he could for his people. He would have rather been singing with the choir like he usually did, letting his voice carry through the church every bit as angelic as any angel's, always preaching the wonderful words of God. Cyrus would have rather been in his own garden, tending to the vegetables, helping the life he created to grow, and then give more life to others. Even training with the sword for a potential, unseen threat, which was just that, potential and unseen would have been refreshing.

He wanted to be living the life he had always lived ever since first coming to the church as just a baby, his mother having left him in the care of the Brotherhood. Cyrus had lived a wonderfully peaceful life there. The Priesthood had viewed him as a miracle from God when they discovered his abilities to not only read thoughts as clear as his own, but to send his own into the minds of others. He was there after a protector of the church, and trained in not only the word of God, but in battle, known and loved by the people of his village.

These were not normal times though. These were not the happy times when Cyrus had thrived and basked in his life, in his duties. No. These were times of war. It had been over a year since that day when Cyrus had first seen what was, at the time, the potential enemy. Before that first day, Raven and his men had been like a dark and dreadful myth. Tales of a man with eyes like a demon and an army as big as Hell's army had swept through the land like wildfire. It was said that the man was possessed by the Devil himself, and that he could set entire countries on fire with a simple thought.

Now that enemy was a complete reality. Of course, Raven Covrus couldn't set entire countries on fire with his mind, and in all actuality his army wasn't even as big as Cyrus'"¦ Though just as most myths are, there was a certain amount of truth to the tales. Raven could indeed set fires with his mind. Not at the extreme scale as in the stories, but he could very easily set an entire village ablaze in the matter of minutes using what seemed to be only the power of his thoughts.

It's what made their situation so desperate. Had it not been for the dark haired man's ability with fire, then it could be likely that Raven would have been defeated before ever reaching Cyrus' village. As it were though, the man and his army were a powerful force. They swept through the countryside like a terrible wave of fires and death, leaving behind only ash and ruins, any and all, whether man, woman, or child who did not submit to Raven's rule were left dead. If it weren't for Cyrus' power with minds their own village would have been long gone after that first battle, but because of the blonde's gift they had come to a draw, and Cyrus' village had remained protected, and virtually untouched.

As time had slipped by, Cyrus' and Raven's armies had met in fierce battle on several more occasions, each ending in the same way, and the dark haired terror had started moving on to the neighboring towns, leaving nothing but death and misery in his wake.

It seemed very likely that they were the last village left, and the tensions were growing rapidly like thick smog hanging heavily in the air. Cyrus' army was very quickly diminishing, the causalities being far greater than he ever expected. Even with the power he had, Cyrus wasn't sure they'd last another battle.

That's why he sat were he was that day, his long sun colored hair cascading down to the middle of his back, hanging loosely about his form that was covered by the modest cloth of the Brotherhood, a simple brown robe that covered almost all of his skin completely, sweeping down around his ankles. He was worrying over every word he wrote, carefully constructing his letter.

This was their last hope. The letter Cyrus was writing was their final strain to over power the other army"¦. For it wasn't so much the army that caused most of the threat"¦ It was a large part, but Raven was the main threat, a fierce weapon, and if they could merely do awayh thh the dark haired man then Cyrus was almost certain their army would be victorious over the others.

The letter would only be winning a small part of the battle though. It was what the letter would invoke that worried Cyrus, that was making his brow furrow. The blonde's words were a request, a request for a one on one battle between himself and the dark over-lord.

Cyrus had infact clashed swords with Raven himself on several occasions in the heat of thick battle. His piercing blue eyes had met those deep, dark orbs of red on more than one occasion, every time more intense and crazed than the last. That was part of the problem.

Every time Cyrus laid eyes upon the powerful man he became more and more entranced, like he was caught in some kind of spell. Ever since he had first glanced into those crimson depths, he always seemed to be weaving webs of tangled thoughts of the man. He couldn't get his mind off him. Raven Covrus had become an obsession.

At first Cyrus had just obsessed himself with beating him, forcing himself to envision different ways he could gain the upper hand over the other"¦. But that obsession had rapidly grown into just thinking about him, trying to get into the man's head, to understand him in some way. Cyrus couldn't read Raven's mind on the battle field. He had to focus his thoughts as a weapon over an entire army, and couldn't get inside one man's mind at the same time, so he osed sed himself with thinking of him every other second, spending most waking moments thinking about Raven, trying to figure him out.

Gradually, that obsession grew, branching out into other areas, the other areas that had already always been a weakness for him ever since puberty. He began to envision the man himself. Began to envision what he could be like in different aspects"¦ situations. When he would think about him at night, the monk alone in his room, covered in sheets of darkness, Cyrus would slip his hands down over his body, letting the tips of his fingers caress and glide over firm muscles, imagining it wasn't his hands at all. They would trail lower, tangling in short curls at the base of his groin until he just couldn't take it anymore, and had to let those fingers wrap around his engorged cock, stroking the hard shaft as he imagined ruby red orbs staring into his, pale, agile hands working his hardened member instead of his own, touching and jerking the rod until his creamy seed spilled onto his hand, coating his honey colored stomach and chest.

Cyrus became guilt ridden, and rarely let himself reach climax. He'd be to the point of tears sometimes, and felt like he wasn't worthy to carry the title of Brother in the monastery. He was confused. Did it mean that he was evil, too? How could he be so obsessed with someone so terrible? Most importantly though, how was it going to effect a one on one battle with the man? Would he even be able to kill him? Would he be able to soak those milky hands with blood? Hands that he had envisioned touching him in ways no one should ever touch a man of faith. He would have to. He had no choice but to defend his people, or else they would cease to exist.

It was almost enough to make him wish that Raven would turn down his request. That way Cyrus would never be faced with a choice. He had no doubts that he could kill the man on the battle field with terror raining and screaming all around them, his firm, hard body thrown into automatic"¦. But one on one? That was personal, and intimate. It was enough to make Cyrus sweat in anticipation.

~*~

It was only a gentle crackling of wood burning, but the sound filled the vast room as if it were an entire forest set ablaze, the chamber engulfed by dancing shadows, a soft flickering of red and yellow light illuminating the bathing suite. Of course, this wasn't like your average bathing chamber. Large white marble columns rose upwards, reaching towards the tall ceilings on each side of a fireplace so big that you could literally burn an entire tree inside. There were large statues of elegant nude men holding wide jugs up high, each of them circling around in an expansive ring, creating several showers of water from the deep jugs. A ring of flickering candle light played, sparkling and glimmering as it reflected across the watery surface of the central object of the room, a vast tub sunk into the ground like a pool, so large that you could easily fit half a dozen people"¦. Though tonight there was only one occupant.

He was stretched out, completely encompassed by warm water from his sculpted chest down. Firm, strong arms extended out on either side of him, resting on the rim of the tub. His head was slightly lulled back, hair as black as coal cascading freely over the edge behind him, sweeping over the floor. Pale lids with long, dark lashes rested gently shut, a look that was too peaceful for someone so cruel upon his face.

Most would say that it was wrong, that it was completely unjust that such a man should be allowed such lavish wonders. If the karmatic laws were balanced he wouldn't be allowed such a peaceful look, or even such beauty. He was the prefect contrast to the enemy. Were Cyrus was like a heavenly angel, Raven was like a fierce god, every bit as ruthless as the cruelest deity.

No. Such a man shouldn't be allowed such serenity, shouldn't be allowed the tranquility his thoughts swam in. Raven didn't think he deserved it either"¦. Not because he thought he deserved punishment for the things he did, but because his mind wandered too freely, too often. Put plain and simply, he became bored much too easily, and he wasn't content to just enjoy the peacefulness of his surroundings.

It was probably part of what made the man so insane. His life didn't hold enough distraction. Scared and frightened people were only so much fun for so long, and when you could easily beat the strongest swordsman under you, \"playing\" became monotonous.... Not that he was truly complaining. Raven adored having people cower at his feet. He loved the look of complete fear, eyes glazed deliciously with terror. The screams that some people would release"¦. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard.

Every now and then an amused sneer would tug at the corners of the man's lips at random moments, his eyes still resting closed, but the smirks still reaching the pale lids, his face taking on a mischievous glow. Soft laughter slipped from his lips in off moments, the man being amused for whatever warped reasons he had"¦.. Somethihichhich he had in great quantities of.

All and all he really looked quite insane, like some schizophrenic maniac.

All too soon though his malious looking grins faded as a soft knocking came from the heavy closed door of the chamber. Eyes that looked to be blood red in the dim light slowly opened, candle flames reflecting opriopriately across their glossy surface as he gazed upon a boy with pale silver hair peeking his head into the suite.

\"Lord Covrus"¦.?\" Came the meek voice, soft and wispy.

Raven didn't respond, and in those first few moments just looked expressionlessly at the servant as if expecting him to go on, the boy slowly slipping into the room. He was probably nothing more than a spoil of war, a weak traitor who would submit to the dark haired man rather than die. The boy was small and frail looking, scrawny really, the dull gray servant's robe he wore was rumpled and baggy, making his frame look even thinner than it already was, appearing to be about 16 at the most. His silver tresses were a bit matted and shaggy, hanging just slightly past his ears in a bowl shape cut, soft gray eyes averted towards the floor as he lifted his voice just enough to be heard.

\"There's a message for you, M'Lord"¦..\" He was about to go on, but was abruptly cut off.

\"I said I didn't want to be disturbed unless it was urgent!!!\" Raven's voice cut through the calm air like a searing blade, his burning eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.

The servant boy's eyes grew wide with fear, still focused intently on the floor, avoiding his master's nude form even if it was covered by water that looked dense and dark in the dull candle and fire light.

\"B-but the message said it was urgent!\" He tired to explain, though was seemingly unheard as Raven rose from his sitting position in the water.

Raven had indeed heard the boy, and only pretended not to. The poor soul was already lost the moment he had touched his fist to the hard surface of the door. It was really just a matter of bad timing. The pale haired servant had interrupted while Raven was beginning to grow bored with the tranquility surrounding him.

For the first time alarmed gray eyes turned up to his master, the orbs seeming to become as wide as saucers, a deep crimson blush creeping across his whole form as Raven took steps out of the lavish tub, the marble floor cool against the skin of his bare feet, his poise tall and firm, not at all in any way embarrassed of his nude body, toned and firm. The boy took steps backwards, the hand not holding the \"urgent message\" tensed, fingers splayed as if reaching down towards the floor in a gesture that was a natural instinctive, defensive reaction. Had he been stupider his arm would have been out stretched in an effort to stop the man's advance, but he wasn't quite that foolish.

Penetrating blood colored eyes absently swept over the servant's form as the man continued to advance, purposely moving slowly in a taunting gesture, ebony locks seeming to swirl about his dripping ivory form. He breathed a sigh of frustration as he took in the servant's appearance. He was much too frail and weak for the dark lord's liking. He probably wouldn't fight back much, and even if he did it would all be completely in vain. Not a bit of a challenge"¦. Though Raven imagined that his screams and cries would be rather delightful, and that made up for a bit of his disappointment.

\"Please"¦! I-I'm sorry"¦. I- di-didn't mean to"¦.\" His voice was panicked, and it wasn't long before Raven had the boy backed completely against the heavy closed door, the hand not holding the scroll of parchment lying with his palm flattened against the wooden surface.

Raven's face was completely firm and blank, hard and stony as he stared into frightened eyes intently for a few tortuously long taunting moments doing absolutely nothing, though in one rapid movement had his strong hand wrapped firmly around the boy's thin throat, lifting him seemingly effortlessly until his toes were just barely pressed against the smooth floor. Both of the servant's hands immediately moved up in pure instinct to try and pry the fist from his neck, somehow managing to keep a hold on the parchment, face rapidly turning red as he gasped for breath, the scroll being slightly crushed between his frantically grasping fingers and Raven's unmoving ones.

For a moment there Raven just watched the boy struggle with a certain amount of sick interest, a smirk slowly forming on his lips as the servant's face grew redder and redder, his smirk only broadening as he very slowly began to cut off his air supply, squeezing the frail throat in hand. The boy's eyes to to the point of practically bulging, and one could see quite clearly that his life was probably flashing before them, a life Raven expected didn't deserve much thought due his pathetic existence.

He wasn't going to kill him though"¦ No. There wasn't much fun in that after all, and in one smooth, quick motion, Raven grasped the message crushed between their hands, and ripped it free, soon tossing it aside as his grip began to loosen just slightly allowing the boy to draw in shallow gasps of air, coughing around the uncomfortable hand that still held him captive.

Raven allowed the servant to put a bit of his weight on the balls of his feet, though made no move to remove his hand from the boy's almost fragile seeming neck, pinning him securely to the solid surface of the closed door, ready to squeeze again at will if need be. He'd rather not though, he wanted the servant to be able to concentrate on what he did next, his smirk still settled in place as the hand not holding the boy captive came up to freely glide over and fondle his body through the thin, ragged material of the servant's robe.

It wasn't loving caresses or touches though. They weren't meant to excite and please. They were unwanted gropes, touching the boy in a way that the dark haired man knew would make him feel dirty and filthy, lower than a used toy as Raven didn't think this frail creature was even good enough to be called one of his toys. No, he was really more like a dog or farm animal, and he was about to receive punishment for being bad, even if the reality he she situation was different.

Large tears started to flow in wide canals down the boy's face. It was completely obvious to Raven that he was, until this point, untouched, which probably meant he was fairly new to the dark lord's castle. The thought of such a thing only served to further excite Raven, his cock hardening more briskly than it would have otherwise, the obvious distress the servant was in only causing the dark haired man to feel all that much more lusty.

He wanted to hear more of those cries, wanted to see the terror and fear intensified even more in the soft gray depths hosehose innocent eyes, and loosened his grip a bit more, allowing the silver haired boy to stand flat footed on the marble floor. The poor creature started to sob, his chest heaving unevenly with ragged, soft, yet high pitched noises, tears streaking his face, making it glisten with wetness. His hands were now balled into small fists at his sides, not in defense, but in tension, trying to will away what was happening to him, not being anywhere near dumb enough to try and physically stop his master.

Raven's smirk grew more malicious as he gathered up the tattered robe, bunching and hiking it up, soon slipping his hand up under it, going straight for the boy's cock, touching and fondling very roughly and crudely, not at all nice or in anyway loving, pulling and squeezing the delicate flesh hard, his fingers moving to capture small nipples, pinching them harshly, electing sharp sounding cries.

\"P-p-please"¦.. D--don't"¦..\" The boy sobbed imploringly through panicked pants. \"St--stop"¦. I beg you"¦.\" His voice got so soft with the ending plea that it was nearly inaudible, like a breathy whisper that seemed to die off as soon as the words rose from his throat.

Like a mad man, Raven threw his head back to laugh at the meek, pitiful request, his face taking on a look that would make anyone it was directed at cringe as the dark haired man's face took on a look like a crazed lunatic, his smirk was now completely fierce, and scary, his eyes sparkling with horrid intentions.

\"Please don't stop"¦.?\" Raven mocked, his smirk growing even more as the hand molesting the servant came down, cupping his groin, and squeezing the delicate area painfully, the boy crying out loudly from the harsh pressure.

The loud cry of pain the boy let out was abruptly halted and once again replaced by sobs that were growing more hoarse as Raven suddenly released him, and before the servant knew what was happening drew his hand back, smacking him hard across the face, the frail form falling unceremoniously to the floor in a heap like an old rag doll.

\"Now get up, and strip your robe off!!!\" Raven billowed, causing the boy to sob louder in startled fear from the harsh, demanding voice.

He had no choice but to do as he was told though, and slowly rose up to hist. Ht. His face was lowered to the ground, head hanging in complete shame, though the glimmering tear stains covering his cheeks and scarlet fluid dripping from his mouth was clearly seen. The boy looked like he either wanted to run from the room or else fall back to the ground, curling up on himself as Raven's crimson eyes remained completely focused, staring intently at the servant as he were a piece of meat about to be devoured.

Very slowly thin hands grasped the bottom of the shabby robe, and inch by inch revealed untouched pale flesh to the dark lord's hungry eyes, unknowingly to the servant the slowness being very seductive to Raven, his hands immediately moving to cover his crotch after letting the garment drop to the floor by his feet.

\"Move your hands!\" Raven demanded in a cruel tone, causing the boy to give a startled jump, a small cry escaping his lips.

Tear glazed gray eyes continued to rain, chest now heaving slightly with sobs though the sounds of them were more pathetic and minimal as his blurry gaze remained focused on the floor. A wicked grin formed on Raven's face as small hands moved away from the groin area, now completely exposed for the dark lord to greedily drink in"¦ Though he wasn't overly pleased with what he saw. The servant's body was indeed very thin and pale, hardly even a glimmer of muscle on his skinny thighs and arms. You could almost see the outline of ribs through skin that seemed to be in desperate need of the sun, a limp member hanging in a nest of pale curls.

\"Bend over that bench there! I want your ass up in the air with your legs spread apart. Now!!!\" The expression on Raven's face only grew more amused with that order, as the boy jumped once again, this time minus the cry, though his sobs grew more audible as he walked over to a long bench made of white marble that glimmered, slightly illuminated by the flickering candle light.

A small whimper could be heard escaping the boy as he very reluctantly bent over the bench. It came to about mid thigh level on him, making him bend uncomfortably. His ass was indeed high in the air, his legs spread apart, exposing a small, tight pucker set between small, firm globes of flesh, groin hanging lowly between his thighs. Raven drank in the sight of him, his pink tongue sweeping absently over his lips, his cock standing proud, giving a small twitch of anticipation when he thought about how he was going to tear the boy apart, his only regret being that he was too small and willowy to inflict any real damage without endangering his life.

While he was a cold blooded killer, Raven rarely killed his own people, much preferring to make examples out of them, molding them into perfect submission. It kept his life interesting anyways.

He didn't waste a single moment in retrieving his belt from the pants he had discarded earlier, and swiftly came up behind the boy. It was a thick, black leather belt, very strong, and firm, and with what looked like little to no effort, Raven drew his hand back, and brought the thick leather down on the servant's backside, the boy crying out sharply, his body instinctively trying to shy away from the abuse. His small form started to shake with renewed sobs, obviously fighting with himself not to just break down, and curl into a protective ball, the threat of what would happen if he did such a thing causing enough fear in him to stay put where he was.

Raven brought the black leather down across the boy's backside several times at a rapid pace, each stroke snapping delightfully against the exposed, bare skin, each one coaxing cries that steadily faded into hoarse screams that almost sounded strangled through heavy sobs, each hit being more powerful than the last. When he was done red welts criss crossed over the expanse of the servant's back, ass, and thighs, the marks deeply contrasting with his pale skin. His entire form seemed to be glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, quaking and visibly seething with pain as the crying now became softer taking on a more pathetic sound.

An evil looking grin was firmly set into place on Raven's face. His own strong body now completely dried, not even a glimmer of a sweat over his alabaster skin from the small effort. He didn't give the boy much time to gather any kind of bearings before coming up closely behind him, and firmly starting to run his hands over the red marks, pressing roughly into them, aggravating them, causing them to sting. His agile digits wandered over each one from the middle of the boy's back, sliding down over the slightly boney ass, and continuing over the back of his thighs, the boy's cries only strengthening again.

\"Gods"¦ P-p-please n-n-no"¦..\" His meek plea came out through harsh sobs, his entire form tensing as Raven pressed his hard arousal against his rear, setting firmly between the globes of his ass.

Raven's mischievous looking grin only broadened as he firmly grabbed a hold of the servant's hips, his hands squeezing the pale flesh roughly, digging his nails into the skin almost to the point of drawing blood. He angled his hands just slightly, causing the globes of the boy's ass to spread. Then without any kind of warning, he shifted his hips, and in one hard, violent motion thrusted forward into the tight, unprepared entrance, tearing it ruthlessly, the form beneath him tensing with pain, his voice coming out as a sharp scream, head tossing back slightly, hands balled into fists so tightly that the knuckles were white.

The dark haired man gave a deep groan, both riddled with pleasure and pain. The boy's entrance was so tight that it squeezed almost painfully around Raven's thick cock, and he wasn't even able to thrust all the way in with that first movement. He dug his nails deeper into the boy's already abused delicate flesh, blood welling slightly under his fingers as he started to move his hips with no regard to the servant, pulling out to the tip, and pushing back into the tight canal hard, making quick motions, working his shaft in deeper and deeper with each movement, using the blood from the torn ring of muscle as the only lubricant.

\"Stop!!! No! Gods! Please! It's hurts so bad!\" The boy started to plead frantically, the way his body was trying to reject the impaling length driving Raven crazy, the opening tightening and tensing around his cock as if pulsating, the boy below shaking with the searing pain from being so brutally taken.

Raven, of course, ignored the pleas, the only reaction they caused in him being to make the man lustier. Once he was completely embedded in the virginal heat, the dark lord wasted absolutely no time in pounding away into the tight, shaking body, fucking him harshly. He pulled out almost completely, only leaving the engorged head of his shaft inside, then slammed back in carelessly, making long, hard thrusts.

The entire chamber seemed to be filled with the boy's screams, and cries, carrying and echoing off the walls and high ceilings until he could do nothing more than sob because his throat was so raw. It was only then that you could hear Raven's deep grunts, and groans, his hips steadily starting to move faster and quicker into the boy, the sound of skin slapping rapidly mixing in with the many other sounds of the brutal rape.

It wasn'ch lch longer before Raven was clenching his eyes shut, a deep groan rising from his throat as his own muscles tensed dramatically. His dark hair swept below his firm, and formed buttocks as he threw his head back slightly, all his movements becoming more eager, which in turn meant more violent until he just couldn't take it anymore.

In the matter of moments, Raven grabbed a firm fistful of pale, silver locks as he pulled his cock out of the stretched, abused hole, roughly forcing the servant down to his knees as he shoved first his fingers into his small mouth, prying it open before thrusting his cock past thin lips. Not a moment later Raven was releasing thick jets of cum down the boy's throat, his own form trembling lightly as he moaned out from the pleasurable sensations of his orgasm. The servant coughed, choking slightly around the throbbing organ, somehow managing not to bite, though creamy white fluid was escaping past his lips, sliding down Raven's cock to the bas of his groin.

A small groan slipped from the dark lord's lips as he removed the member from the boy's stretched mouth, his ruby eyes opened into lidded slits as he stared down at the servant, his hand still tangled tightly in silver locks of hair.

\"Lick it clean!\" He ordered sharply, causing the boy to whimper, through he didn't waste a lot of time in obeying, a pink tongue slipping out, and licking over the still gently pulsating shaft, cleaning the spent seed and blood, making a face that was set between disgust and horror, causing Raven to shiver delightfully.

When his length was completely clean of spunk and scarlet fluid, Raven didn't a m a moment longer before roughly dragging the boy over to the door, only stopping momentarily to pick up the tattered gray robe. In a smooth movement the man threw the door open, and tossed the boy out, his frail form landing in a pile on the hard stone floor against the opposing wall, blood clearly seen dripping down the backs and insides of his thighs as he curled up into the fetal position, Raven smirking before slamming the door shut.

Raven didn't waste a single second thought about the boy after he was out of his sights, and simply walked back into the bathing chamber as if nothing had happened, sweeping up the urgent message that had been discarded onto the floor. He sat himself on the marble bench, side stepping and paying no mind to any droplets of blood or cum on the floor as he started to read the letter.

Soon, a broad grin twisted over his features, making him look fierce and evil as he started to laugh almost uncontrollably. He looked like a mad man, completely insane and crazy, eventually the sounds petering off into a chuckle.

\"Oh, Cyrus Produxi, you pathetic creature! Always so concerned and worried for your people.\" He started to laugh heartily again, riddled with wicked amusement, his mind already weaving a web of malicious thoughts of battling the blonde one on one, and the glory and satisfaction it would bring.

TBC