Another failure. Once again, it was another failure. It didn’t matter how hard she tried nor how much mana she used, it simply will not work.  For the first time since her awakening, the youthful-looking woman staggered back to her throne, her ceaseless incantation and experimentations having taken a severe toll on her magical reserves. Slowly, she sunk ever deeper into her throne caring little for how it caused unsightly creases to form on her robes as she let out an involuntary sigh. A habit of hers when she was annoyed… when she once belonged in the world of the living.

Resting her hands on the armrest, she calmed her mind and began to recall the events which led to the experiment’s failure. With the flick of her finger, the once unmoving skeleton that stood next to her began moving, arms rigidly snapping to life as the skeletal servant presented a thick tome with an elaborated cover. Conjuring a quill on her right hand, she began to scribble down on the tome – noting down important factors as headers before elaborating them in point-form. With deft hands, she easily filled page after page with information – jotting down simple observations down while adding elaborate sketches of the magic circle she had used to further emphasize her points.

Soon, she finished up her research notes with a concise summary;

Outcome – Failure
End Result – Subject remained undead
Consistent failure across the board
Need live subject to reverse engineer for better understanding

Skimming through what she had written for any errors, she soon clenched her writing-hand into a fist, dissipating the quill she had into a dark mist almost immediately before being reabsorbed into her hands. With both hands now free, she held the tome firmly on either sides and gazed at the last point she had written. She was deep in thought at her current predicament, unaware of the flow of time as she was searching, thinking, hypothesizing on how she can make a breakthrough with her experiments.

Every material used had been weighted down to the dot, every marking on the circle immaculate. Everything was perfect. Everything but the test subject. She needed a live subject if she was ever going to make progress, but how? How was she even going to obtain one? Living in a decrepit fort deep inside the forest had its advantage of course as it served as a natural deterrent against human contact and the church with how much danger one had to go through to even reach her home. But this proved to be a double-edged sword of course as this meant that most of her potential test subjects ended up either not taking the risk of even starting the journey to her dwellings or falling victim to the forest – be they other mamono or to the elements, depriving her of important research material.

Realizing that she no longer had any immediate need with her tome, she promptly handed it back to her servant who had stood silently by her side. As soon as she felt the weight of it leave her outstretched arms, she immediately stood up and began to pace around her quarters, straightening the creases on her robes as she did so. She wondered how she could lure in a test subject into her domain without attracting the attention of her neighbours. They always seemed to know when and where to kidnap man for some reason

Approaching a nearby pillar, she leaned back against the cold masonry and listened to the rhythm of the crackling torch mounted on it. Fueled by her powers, these undying torches scattered throughout her home glowed at the same intensity. As a side effect, these torches tend to behave identically – from how much illumination it offered down to the the intervals between each crackling sound. Yet, despite this, she realized that the particular torch next to her was out of sync; its light flickering as the cackling went off a second later than the rest.

Tilting her head to the side to at the offending torch, she noticed how an insect had been drawn in by the light and was flying around it. Occasionly, it even landed on the torch, disrupting the flow of magic between her and the torch hence the disrupted syngery the torch once had with the others.

“Such a curious thing,” she wondered, gazing at the unknown insect, “to be drawn towards something that can cause you harm.”

As if on queue, a sharp hissing sound was emmited as the insect had landed on the torch for far too long and caught fire. Taking another curious glance at the now deceased insect, the young lich began to retire back to her room when it suddenly struck her.

“Ah.” She monotonously declared. The cogs in her mind turning as a plan began to formulate.

If the humans are unwilling to visit her, then why not tempt them over instead? Just like how the flame tempted the insect to its doom. Ever since her rebirth as a Lich, she remembers being imprinted with knowledge of her other ‘sisters’. Specifically speaking, knowledge of a serpentine mamono who did the same thing to lure a worthy husband. Why she had failed to reference such useful data simply eluded her and she made a mental note to remember such details for future usage.

Pleased with the breakthrough, she retired to her chambers in a better mood seeing that she had her next course of action set. Besides, she looked forward to seeing what her dreams would show her next. Lying down on her bed, she closed her eyes and rested.

And soon enough, she dreamt.

Only to wake up the next day with a start.

She wished her dreams had not shown her that. Dreaming of being stabbed is considered a nightmare. But for some undead, it was different. Amillia woke up with a start. Yes, Amillia. That was the Lich’s… no, that was her given name. A name she used when she was amongst the living. In truth, she has no need for rest seeing that she had become a member of the undying and only required magic to sustain herself. However, past experiments had shown that her current mana pool was proportional to memories of her past life as well. The more mana she had, the more she found out about herself. That was why she rested as sleep was one of the effective ways to regain her magic. And with her increased mana pools, her dreams had shown her how she met her demise. A blade by a human rogue. Running her hands across her chest, she felt. A small bump on her skin. A stab wound located at where her heart would be. Strange… she was sure that she missed something important right before waking up.

“No.” She thought to herself as she shook her head. Dwelling on such things would be detrimental to her work. Composing herself, the newly named Amillia snapped her fingers once more and once again, a skeleton entered her room following a quick knock with the same tome from yesterday at the ready. With a nod to show her appreciation, Amillia took to tome before flipping to a specific section titled ‘Dream’. Amillia began to write down what she recalled as she slept in the same manner she took down her research notes with.

Once finished, Amillia began to read through her dream log to gain a better understanding of her past life.

(Born?) Raised in a farming village
Aptitude in magic discovered at young age – specifically healing arts.
Went adventuring once she reached her 25th winter to raise money.
Ambushed by brigands

With a sigh, Amillia closed the book and handed it over to her assistant who promptly stood aside once she had retrieved it. With her bedside now unobstructed, Amillia proceeded to get off her bed and began her morning routine.

Firstly, she muttered a quick scrying spell to check up on the wards and security measures she had installed throughout the fort. Taking down mental notes of any irregularities or oddities that were found during her scan, she began to make her way to such places. For the most part, such places were weakened by time or curious animals.

After she was done touching up on her security system, Amillia realized that she was right outside the comforts of her home. More specifically, she had found herself right at the remnants of the main gate. Though the portcullis remained intact, the system operating it had rusted long ago leaving it unusable and the entrance wide open. Either way, that mattered little however as the surrounding stone walls and ramparts showed advanced signs of deterioation. The wooden ramparts had signs of rot as footsized-holes pockmarked its structure. The stonewalls fared no better as it closely resembled ruin more than an actual barrier with the countless breaches surrounding it.

Thankfully for her, the keep inside the fort remained relatively intact and as such, was not only easily defensible but also offered excellent shelter from the wilderness. Her servants, though capable of fending themselves against would be attackers, were at the complete mercy of the weather after all. This she saw first hand during the previous winter.

Seeing that she was already outside, Amillia decided to postpone her other morning routines in favour of setting the bait to lure more test subjects into her domain. Uttering a few incantations, Amillia conjured a traveler’s cloak along with a pair of leather gloves and an enchanted bottomless bag both to blend in and to cover her deathly pale skin tone. In addition, she even lengthened her robes to cover both her arms and legs. Were it not for the dark-coloured design of her robes, she could have passed off as a wandering cleric. Seeing that she was ready, Amillia pulled up her hood and slung the bag around her shoulder before creating a simple teleportation spell that would mark the start of her journey.

A small tear in the world announced the Lich’s arrival as she casually walked out of it before allowing the tear to mend itself. Having teleported herself towards a clearing near the main road, Amillia brushed herself after emerging from the foliage and towards the dirt road. Taking a look at her surroundings, Amillia ensured that she was alone before summoming a murder of crows and ordering them to scatter and locate the nearest town or lone individual. If she was lucky, she would be able to abduct a viable subject without exposing herself to any more danger than is necessary.

With a chorus of loud caws, the crows dispered in all directions. With nothing left to do but wait, Amillia chose go a bit deeper into the forest before spotting a tree which offered excellent shade to rest under. Making herself comfortable, Amillia pulled her hood down before exhaling deeply, feeling all the tension and worry in her body leaving her as she did so. The quiet surroundings and the calm atmosphere made her mind wander. Will she be on time to carry out her other morning maintanence? Will her servants be okay? Is this all worth it? Why is she trying so hard with her experiments?

The last two thoughts gave her pause. Indeed, why was she trying so hard? When she was first reanimated, the first emotion she felt was emptiness; a void that was missing something crucial. She passed it off as being the only person to have been reanimated on that day. However, after settling down, and with the many servants under her, it still lingered. More than that, she desired to find a way to not reanimate but rather, revive herself. To bring the dead back to life as actual, living entities rather than cold, empty puppets. Try as she might though, she found that she was the only undead with the desire to walk amongst the living. Why? She did not know. To her knowledge, most of her kin drowned themselves in experiments to achieve different heights of euphoria; not find ways to cure themselves from the curse of undeath.

Her attempts to either revive the countless corpses or aid her undead servants always ended with nothing happening for the latter or them turning into Skeletons for the former – a far cry from her intended goal. A living soul may just have the missing link and give her the breakthrough she needed. For years she toiled aimlessly in her work yet always ended up hitting a wall. Today, however, was going to be different. She will make a breakthrough and perharps, fill the hole inside her.

So caught up was Amillia in her thoughts that she failed to notice how her familiars had return, lined up neatly infront of her. Probing their minds one by one, their memories were slowly absorbed into her own and eventually, only one crow was able to produce a satisfactory report – a rather town located at a crossroad not far from here with a local garrison.

With a snap of her fingers, all of her avian familiars exploded into clouds of feathers before turning into motes of black mist that formed a trail and were absorbed into the Lich’s robes.

With that done and with the sun reaching its peak, Amillia readied another teleportation spell to bring her near the outskirts of the town. With the spell finished, Amillia soon found herself on a completely different clearing yet still concealed by the thicket furher up ahead. After orienting herself, Amillia summoned a few crows to scout ahead and patrol the skies as far as her magic allowed them to before beginning her short walk towards the town masquerading as a wayfarer.

Approaching the entrance, Amillia found her visit unopposed by the town militia. Using what memory she had of her time as an adventurer, Amillia began looking for any notice board or tavern to begin her plan of spreading rumours or posting treasure hunts and set her plan in motion. To her surprise, navigating the town felt almost second nature to her. It felt as if her body knew exactly where to go and she even found an unexpected boon – Town Criers. With a few mind altering spells and suggestion, they began announcing tales of treasure lost inside an abandoned fort somewhere in the forest.

Now all she needed was to find a notice board or a guild of sorts before making her escape. Unfortunately, fate had other plans as she was unable to find what she was looking for after hours searching. Most of the notice boards she did find had to go through several levels of paperwork and documentation for both liability and verification sake to ward of against potential scams and other nefarious plots. She could try to ‘suggest’ the respective custodians in the area to turn a blind eye but from her observation, they tend to change shifts unpredictably.

Already her mind-altering spells towards the town criers had cause an adverse effect in town. Though subtle, she could see that the town guards now patrolled in bigger groups with the odd mage added into the mix. Not wanting to place herself in any unneccessary risk, Amillia decided it was time to turn back home despite her relatively poor progress.

Only to come face to face with a temple knight.

Already she found herself affected by the knights’ blessing. The suffocating aura that made it slightly difficult to breathe; to focus and maintain her disguise. Alone, it was tolerable but against 5 of them it simply added up.

One of them approached her, dressed in full platemail with a longsword sheathed to his left and a great helmet that obscured his face and made reading his expression all the more difficult.

Judging by the trim on his helmet and the seals which adorned his armour, it was clear he held a respectable position. Normally, she would ignore such details seeing them as humanities baseless need to flaunt their dominance towards their kith and kin. However, Amillia also noticed the small dents which marked his cuirass caused by club and fist; the fine scratch marks on his pauldrons and gauntlet caused by blade and claw; the dull sheen of his armour, slightly caked in dirt and mud and unable to reflect the rising sun.

This was a far cry from the others knights behind him. The knights who instead had armour that were in much better shape. Smooth and pristine which easily reflected the light. These knights were unbloodied. The man infront of her wasn’t.

This was someone who clearly attained his position through merit, not birth. This was a man who was no stranger to combat. This man is dangerous. Looking downwards to better conceal her features, she braced herself.

“Excuse me miss,” he called out shifting his gaze towards Amillia who only reached up to his shoulders. His voice was firm as he continued. “I can’t help but notice how were you wondering around aimlessly. Are you perharps lost? Are you alone? Where are you from?”

He was lying. Her crows did not detect them following her. They were trying to unnerve her. Already he was bombarding her with a series of small but rapid questions, trying to catch her off balance no doubt. Trying not to give her time to formulate a proper response and make her slip-up.

Amillia however was prepared. Discreetly looking at her surroundings, Amillia began probing random passersby for information and used their knowledge against him.

“Yes, I am sadly. I seek passage to Stillhome Forest. I’ve heard that the herbs there do wonders for the body though I would like to hire an escort or two before making the journey. As for where I’m from, I hail from the village south of here, where the river splits.” She answered, still not making eye contact.

The delay between his question and her response was under 2 seconds. Good, she thought. That was a believable gap.

“Do you now?” He asked as he folded his arms. “The village of Deun, yes? But of course, that is the only village with a healer if I’m not mistaken. Though I must admit my worries in seeing their only healer here. Has something happened back home that requires your absense?”

There, mistakes in his statement meant to find fault. There was no village of Deun, and most villages always had a church with a sanctioned healer on stand-by. No matter, she will correct him.

“I am unfamiliar with such a village, my lord. I come from Rion and I am no healer but an apothecary. I have no magic to become a healer, unfortunately.”

“You lack magic? How strange for I can feel my sword humming. Last I checked, my sword only reacted if it felt something magical. Something.. demonic.” He finished, this time resting a hand on his pommel.

Again, another bluff for she could sense no such power from the sword.

Acting innocently, she replied.

“I’m afraid you’ve lost me, my lord. I carry no forbidden fruits with me. You’re free to search my belongings if you’d like.”

After staring down on her a while longer, the knight slumped his shoulders in defeat. “Well, looks like you pass,” he conceded before continuing. “Still, that won’t be neccessary miss, we shall take our leave then. The cheapest guild is just down the road if you’re seeking adventurers to protect you during your trip.”

Good, the conversation was ending.

“Still,” of course it wasn’t over she told herself, “it is a bit rude to keep staring at the the ground as I’m talking to you, don’t you think? Sergeant Burne, at your service.” He introduced himself, bowing slightly.

If introductions was all it took to get rid off him, she would glady do it. Silently muttering an illusion to alter the appearance or her pale skin, she looked up to meet his gaze as she introduced herself.

“Amillia.” She said just as they made eye contact. The knight took a few seconds to see her face before he gasped and stumbled backwards.

At that moment, she felt time stop. How? How did he know she was a monster? She knew she made a mistake. She was supposed to feel horror, despair even for having her cover blown yet she felt… something else. A throbbing in her chest, an empty pain as her heart felt itself beeing squeezed. But she has important matters to deal with first.

Hidden behind the dark thin slits on his helmet, Amillia could feel his eyes widen just as she saw how his body tense with his head jerking backwards as he subconsciously tightened the grip he had on his pommel.

“M-..” He muttered, “MONSTER!” he yelled out in pure contempt before unsheathing his sword. Somehow, hearing him shout those words made the throbbing in her chest all the more painful as tears began leaking down her face.

Why did this man cause such a reaction for her? When she was speaking with the innkeepers and the odd adventurer, she had no such thing happen to her. Did this man hold the answer she needed? She heard of how her sisters made mention about them reacting when finding their missing halves. But unlike her, they felt pure joy and desire, not pain and tears.

No matter, she came this far. She will find her answer whatever it takes. She has spent too long trying to reach a breakthrough, too long hoping for a miracle. She will not be denied a test subject, even if it meant taking one person – one dangerous person. Summoning her staff, she prepared herself. No longer were the tears flowing.

In the first second, she opened a rift as Burne charged at her, his comrades too stunned to react.

In the next second, she used his momentum against him, flinging him towards the rift and into the confines of her home.

In the third second, she stepped in just as the other knights regained their bearings.

By the time they began charging ahead, the rift had disappeared along with their squad leader. They began scrambling, alerting the others of her presence and to find their leader.

Meanwhile, deep in the dungeons of an abandoned fort, a battle was raging as crackling bolts of magic played host to the sound of ringing steel. One fought for an answer while the other fought for survival.

Amillia made the first move, swinging her staff erratically to confuse her enemy as she directed bright streaks of lightning towards her opponenet.

Bottom left, top right, mid-center.

Each attack was meant to serve as an opening for the next but the knight was more than prepared. What he could not block he reflected with his sword, dashing forward as he did so.

At this rate, Burne would close the gap. Despite having the home field advantage, Amillia was limited in her offensive options, she needed to incapacitate, not kill. Already the knight made good of his skills by defeating her skeletal servants after entering, their bones littering the room. Changing her plan of attack, Amillia chose to extinguish the torches, turning the area pitch black. One by one, the flames were snuffed. The undead could adapt better in the dark not to mention the array of spells to assist her with.

Realizing what was happening, Burne adapted. He rushed towards the closest corner of the room at full speed before she could blind him. Just as he reached his destination, the lights finally went off and the knight halted his step, finally cornering himself as he turned around. Holding his swords with both hands, the knight tilted his head down as he brought the handguard to his forehead and waited for Amillia to make the first move.

Approaching the knight, Amillia prepared a paralyzing spell. One good hit was all she needed. As she got closer, she failed to notice the bones of her former servants which scattered the area and accidently stumbled on one, creating a loud noise which served as a signal for Brune.

Taking it as his queue, Burne immediately began chanting. Amillia registered his chant as the verses for an illuminating spell. Before she could turn her gaze however, she was too late and soon found herself blinded, staggering back as she looked away. The next thing she felt was something hard colliding with her before completely falling down on her back, her hood pulling back down as her staff skidded away.

By the time she regained her vision, she found the tip of his sword pressed against her neck as he stood triumphantly infront of her.

This is it. This is how it would end for her. To have come so close yet so far. Closing her eyes, she awaited her fate, resting against the cold masonary, not knowing that the tears had come back. Waiting for the end.

It never came.

Opening her eyes, she saw him hesitating; his arm trembling. His sword was shaking violently, unsteady and close to falling off from his weak grip. A chance! Batting the sword away with her arm, she prepared her next move.

Rearing her right leg, she delivered a rough kick to his knee, forcing him to bend forward, closer to her. At the same time, she was preparing a paralyzing spell and quickly placed a hand on where his cheek should be underneath the helmet once he was close enough.

With a grunt and a stiff jerk, Burne collapsed. Amillia was quick to capitalize on this as she immediately pounced him before he could even reach the floor. With Amillia now straddling him, he was at her complete mercy.

With how fast things were happening, it took a moment for Amillia to get her bearings. To have come so close to death only to turn the tables at the last minute and have him at her mercy… it flipped a switch inside her.

She almost died. Years of research down the drain. She needed to punish him for his impudence. A simple humiliation for the proud temple knight before subjugating him to her tests.

Almost desperately, she began stripping him, using a ‘Rot’ spell to disintegrate his armour, revealing the gambeson and pants that lay within. Just as the spell was beginning to eat away at his helmet, Amillia realized that Burne had his head facing sideways. This won’t do. This won’t do at all. She almost died because of this man and she wanted to make sure that he paid in full before she began her experiments on him.

Grabbing on to his cheek with one hand, she forced him to face her, only to let out a surprised yelp when his hand shot up and grabbed the offending wrist.

That was when she noticed the twin rings he wore. A matching pair made of gold with a sapphire crest. For something so trivial, so insignificant, she could not help but feel the pain in her chest reacting much stronger than before. This… anomaly was affecting her more than she realized.

What she also realized was how the man was struggling to move his other arm as he stared at her with those defiant eyes in his vulnerable form. The once confident knight now reduced to such a state.

It was exhilirating. She wanted more. She needed more. The sense of dominance, of having a man under her as she straddled him. She needed him to know who was in charge here. Applying a stronger dosage of paralysis, Amillia began her next move.

Acting merely on instict, she leaned forward and captured his lips. It was euphoric as she moaned unwillingly. He struggled of course by turning away and it forced their lips to part. But in such dark confines where visibility was poor, other parts of the human senses were heightened to compensate. His ears were sensitive to her drawn out moans as silent whispers became wailing screams; his nose easily picked up the sweet aroma of heat in the air and his taste buds became addicted to her delicious tounge as it ravished his mouth, exploring every crevice before wrestling his tounge.

To make matters even worse for Burne, he could feel the waves of mental assault that was unknowingly committed by Amillia. Mental attacks that focused on suggestive acts and created images of passionate sex within his mind. Delusions of him breaking his chain and forcing Amillia into submissiom through sex clouded his judgement. Vivid scenes of her thrashing wildly as she screamed his name in mindless delight as he grabbed her wrists and pounded her from behind, her long smooth hair bouncing just as much as her supple breast, their sweat mixing with one another causing a strong musk to permeate the room as he admired her flawless skin from behind. Such forbidden thoughts made him thrash his head in denial. Unfortunately for him, Amillia grabbed his head with her hands and locked it in place, resuming her assault. The first kiss lasted shorter than the second and that kiss lasted shorter than the third as the images in his mind become stronger and more believable.

Soon, he stopped struggling over the kiss. Instead, they were struggling for air as they begrudgingly refused to part from one another with each kiss. Just as Brune was unwillingly surrendering himself to her, Amillia began grinding him as they kissed, staining their lower garments as she began leaking nectar. After the umpteenth time, they were both panting as she leaned her forehead towards his. Their gaze was locked together, clouded with desire. The lull allowed her to realize how she was supposed to be punishing him. Taking notice of the hard bump she felt below her, she decided to tease him more. To break him further and let him drown in desire. Straightening herself up, she removed her robes allowing Burne to see her in all her glory before throwing it away. Just as Burne continued to struggle even more, Amillia stopped him. Instead, she locked his arms to the side with a restraint spell. Next, to drive him further to his breaking point, Amillia began to lick his neck. From the base of his neck to his earlobe, she slowly licked her way and made sure to savour both his taste and shivering form. The entire process took 3 seconds. 3 seconds of slow and deliberate ecstasy. She repeated this at the other side. Next, she did this at the front his neck, up the throat and on his chin before claiming his lips.

Burne moaned each time she did that and it drove her crazier with lust to see a man fall so low. No longer satisifed with just teasing his face, she began licking downwards, this time at a faster pace. She muttered a quick wind spell to tear his clothes off before resuming her assault. Leaving a trail of saliva down from his collarbone to his nipples and finally to his navel. Doing the same for his pants, Amillia stopped her assault just before his manhood. Instead, she conjured a water spell to wet her hands before grabbing his manhood with one hand and leaning forward while using the other hand to force him to look downwards and watch her jerk him off. From this angle, Burne could see her hand pumping him as she began to lick his nipples, drawing circles with her tounge. Her gaze never left his as she did so.

Feeling his climax approaching, Burne closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Unfortunately, Amillia did not like being ignored by her pe- TEST SUBJECT. He was no pet and certainly no husband but a test subject she convinced herself. Stopping her hand, Amillia grabbed his head with both her hands and kissed him hard before ending it and shouting.

“Who said you could look away!” She commanded. She felt alive when he was looking at her. That feeling vanished the moment they broke eye contact.

He needed another punishment. Last one before she began experimenting for him she told herself. Crawling upwards, Amillia placed his head between her knees before sitting down near his stomach.

Not even waiting for a cue, she grabbed a fistful of his auburn hair and shoved his head towards her nether while using the other hand to support herself. His short yell of surprise was simply sublime. The moment his face made contact with her privates however was something else. Unable to control herself, she forced his head deeper and felt his tounge worm its way inside and explored her deepest parts. Her moans were coming back in full force now and it pushed Brune to the edge. Every moan, every gasp and every sucking sound made reverberated throughout the small confines and rang indefinitely in his ears. It drove him to the edge. Before he knew it, he was lapping up her nectar without a care in the world.

“MORE! MORE! HARDER BRUNE HARDER!” She yelled. His face was a mess now as her juices were all over his face. It became worse once Amillia reached her climax. Grabbing on to his head with both hands for dear life, Amillia leaned forward as she shoved him deeper into her, convulsing all the way as her nectar gushed out in full force before collapsing to the side, gasping for air. The air was thick now, pungent with the smell of their lovemaking just as her yells of pleasure were still ringing in his ear. His groin was aching; it needed release.

Almost as if she was able to sense his plight, Amilllia crawled over to his tool, her face right above it just as her nethers were above his face. Rather than giving in to her desires, she decided to toy- punish him further. Yes, this was still punishment for seeing her acting so slovenly when she climaxed. The experiments will happen later of course.

She began with kissing the tip before licking all the way to the bottom. She made sure that she never went too fast or slow and that her pelvis was too high up for Burne to resume his oral ministrations.

“-o– — -.”

Burne made a sound but she couldn’t be bothered. She was enjoying herself with his tool. If this was how he tasted, she would never want for any other dish save his.

“– —- —..”

More sound, louder than the last. Her juices were now dripping on his face.

He whimpered.

She almost came when she heard that. That feeling of post-euphoria gave her the amount of clarity needed to hear him begging.

“M-more… please.. I-I need more…” he stuttered.

That was all she needed to hear. To hear him submit to her. He deserves a reward. Wrapping his tool inside her mouth, Amillia began bobbing her head up and down repeatedly as her tounge coiled around his member mercilessly and finally lowering her pelvis, allowing Brune to service her as well.

They both saw white as they began sucking each other off. The slurping and sucking was deafening. Before long, they climaxed together. She swallowed it all out of reflex just as she painted his face again with her juices. It suited him really as it left her mark. Made others know who he belonged to just as his release marked her as his. Speaking of which, his release… it was divine. She never felt more alive; more powerful.

She removed herself from him and crawled to his side, her face inches from his and she looked at him, hands on the side of his head now. He was dozing off. But she never gave him permisson to doze off. She never even gave him permission to release inside her mouth. She needed to punish him again of course. She needed to punish him she told herself again. She needed to make him know who he belonged to. She needed her revenge first before she began experimenting on him. She needed to. She wasn’t making any excuses… none at all. She needed…. she needed.. SHE NEEDED HIM!


Without even realizing it, Amillia had began chanting a completely foreign spell that somehow felt familar. A blessing of sorts that belonged in a school of spells that was unique if not specialized by Lich’s all over. Soon, Burne was wide awake again and his member was throbbing, begging for release. She was more than happy to help with that.

Straddling him once again with her hands on his chest, Amillia went for a sloppy kiss, more or less an open-mouth tounge kiss while making herself comfortable before plunging herself downwards.

With that single plunge, the deal was sealed and they became dependant on one another from that day onwards. Screaming in pure delight, Amillia had to bend down as she rested her hands on his side to support herself as she rode him for all he was worth, bouncing up and down not knowing how her breasts were jiggling in front of his face as she did so. It drove Burne insane as he began trashing about with his restraints. As Amillia was no longer able to focus clearly, they broke without much effort and he immediately groped one while sucking on the other for dear life.

This sent Amillia on another level of high as she began chanting more magic to even the score. Without even knowing it, Amillia chanted a series of blessings that transferred all sensation that Burne felt into pleasure while also converting all of his emotions into desires and lust for her. Unable to control himself anymore, Burne flipped her over on her back and began pounding with such reckless abandon that it lifted Amillia up ever slightly with each thrust. Locking Burne in place her with legs, Amillia wrapped her arms around him for dear life as her screams and moans encouraged him on before they climaxed together, screaming each others name before resuming in a different position, not even taking a moment to rest. This time she was on all four and changing each time they climaxed. Time was lost in the dark depths of the dungeon.

Eventually, the magic wore off as their senses returned and the fatigue hit them immediately and they fell asleep together.

As Amillia slept, she dreamt of a continuation of her dream from before. She dreamt of lying in the mud, dying just as a man in full armour ran up to her, kneeling in defeat as he called out to her.

“Amillia! Amillia, please!” He begged. Perhaps in an act to offer her solace, the man removed his helmet and gauntlet, gripping onto her hand for dear life.

Strange, she never realized she was wearing a ring – a gold ring with a sapphire crest. A ring that the man was wearing a matching pair of she noticed. Why do they look so familiar though?

The last thing she remembered before waking up was a weak voice that sounded just like hers.

“Burne…” it weakly called out.

The next thing she saw was the familiar stone ceiling of her home.

“Ah, so that’s it.” She thought. They knew one another. Perhaps he could shed some light on the ring as well?

Looking over to her side, she saw that he was already awake gazing at her with such affection. He was even embracing her, holding on to her firmly. At that moment, she felt that her experiments no longer mattered. Rather, all that mattered was spending more time with this man through sickness and in health till death. Not like the latter was going to be an obstacle.

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