The nightmare began again with him waking up in bed beside his wife. She was still asleep, a relaxed bliss was written all across her face as her bosom rose and fell with every easy breath, giving Sylas a difficult time in holding back his urge to kiss her. He didn’t want to disturb whatever sweet dream she might’ve been having. But, after hearing Mersé unconsciously whisper his name, he could withstand it no longer.
The young man leaned in and pecked her lightly on the lip. Like a fairy tale her eyes opened shortly afterwards. “Good morning,” she yawned, “Was that it?”
“Good morning,” Sylas returned, “You weren’t really asleep, were you?”
“No,” Mersé reddened, looking somewhat guilty, “I just wanted you to wake me, as all.” She then gave a sigh before puffing up her cheeks in a pout, “Although, I expected you to be a little bit more…assertive.”
“Assertive?” Taking her by the hip Sylas drew her closer to him, “Do you mean like this?” He slipped a thumb into her panties to tease the soft sensitive skin hidden underneath.
“You’re such a bully,” Mersé cooed. Not keen on missing a step she reached over and gently sank her teeth into Sylas’s neck, eliciting a moan out of him before she had even broken a sweat.
In retaliation he pulled her up on top of him so that she straddled his waist. From an open window sunlight came pouring in, and when she sat up the young knight was able to admire the bare naked beauty radiating from Mersé’s body in all its glory.
“Giving up the high ground?” she puffed up her chest in pride, accentuating her breasts, “Have you learned nothing from my lessons? Don’t be so quick to surrender.”
“Surrender?” Sylas, without using his hands, slipped himself into her slit, “I’d never.”
Mersé was at first surprised, not expecting the sudden insertion, but nonetheless became quite thrilled at her husband’s forwardness. She grinded her hips on him, relishing in the sensation of him inside her, before leaning in for a kiss.
“I love you.” They both closed their eyes, becoming lost in one another.
He was surrounded by the dark, and all that pierced through it was a soft sound of something wet invading his ears. Slosh, slosh, slosh. Sylas winced away with every violent slurp. Forcibly he tried to wake himself, but the sound then only penetrated deeper, deafening him to the rest of the world.
“Still sane enough to resist, hmm?” Her voice was the only other thing that existed, booming from every direction, “You’re making quite an impressive effort of it…but then that just leaves me no other choice but to reach in even further.” What felt like little worms suddenly wriggled into his brain, biting and nibbling at all the grey matter as they went. Slosh, slosh, slosh. The sound grew louder.
“My n-name is,” the young knight struggled letting out even a single word, stuttering every few breaths, “I-I…I am Sylas! A man of the Order!” He shouted against the blackness, trying to hear himself over the slurping, to remind himself who he really was, “I stand against the Demon Lord and her unholy realm! I’m a d-defender of humanity! A symbol of chiv-chivalry a-and…and…a-a-and…T-There’s…There is this h-horse…I own him…he’s named Cr-Cr-Craven.”
Eventually Sylas could manage to only mumble. His own speech had become inaudible, and what few phrases that could be distinguished from the moist sucking in his ears held no meaning to him. It was all utter nonsense.
“Who are you again?” She inquired loud and clear, giggling as she tormented her catch.
“I-I…I’m…I a-am…” he trailed off, getting lost in the sound. Slosh, slosh, slosh.
“You’re mine,” She pressed him closer to her, feeling every inch of him with her tentacles, “You are my property, my plaything. You always have been.”
Sylas flashbacked to his youth, when mother was gone and father was rarely ever home. It had been a lonely existence, up until she appeared out of seemingly nothing and coming from nowhere. She raped him every hour of every day when he was a boy, her dank purple tendrils drew him close to her soft pinkish body. No part of him was sacred to her. She assaulted whatever inch of him she could reach, no matter how much he protested.
“N-No! You were never there!” Sylas denied the memories.
“Oh, but I was,” she insisted, “Don’t you remember? We played together all the time.” Slosh, slosh, slosh. The sound continued to grow. “Mersé, was it? Was that her name?”
The young knight wasn’t entirely sure who she was talking about. “M-Mersé…she was…she w-was my…” Sylas slowly gave up attempting to recall her, as he was unable to find a smidgen of a detail behind such a name.
“I’m the only one that’s ever been there for you, Sylas,” she reminded him, “There was never another, just you and me. Our fates are intertwined. You. Are. Mine. Always and forever.” Slosh, slosh, slosh.
“N-No…that’s not tr-true,” As much as Sylas refused it, he was coming to know it in his heart that her words were reality. The sound had penetrated into the depths of his very mind, violating not just his body or his mind, but his entire existence.
No matter how far back he looked into his own life, she was present for every moment of it. She had been his first kiss. She had taken his virginity. She was his first and only love. Where there had been no one, she manifested and forced herself on him.
Slosh, slosh, slosh.
There was an oddly pleasant warmth overcoming Sylas as he felt himself beginning to melt into her. By now the sound had grown to a full crescendo, and the sickening sensation of his body joining hers brought him a genuine sense of euphoric bliss. He was no longer alone.
“I never was alone,” the young knight thought to himself, a drunkenly wide smile plastered on his face, “She’s always been there…and I’ll get to be with her forever.”
The Mindflayer was all too pleased with herself as she feasted on the final remnants of free thought from her new husband. She was looking forward to the times ahead. He’d been such a lonesome soul, much like her, but it was a pleasure to see him happy after having been raped in both mind and body. Occasionally, she decided, she would restore his true self, only to break him again and again and again. For the fun of it, of course. He’d enjoy it too, she knew, for it was easy enough to rewire him in whatever way she pleased. She was no longer alone.