Thread: A Necessary Evil [Prince x Insatiable]

Before she became the Demon of Lust, the Hell Whore, the Sinful Succubus, she was just a village girl, known as Mara. Marzanna Mara Fontane was born of a human mother, Morgan, an enchantress whom was impassioned on shielding the child from the outside world. Their residing village was fairly secular, but there would always be those who would turn their noses at how an aging woman, who had taken no vows, could birth and raise a child on her own. For her adolescent years, Mara had no aversion to the secrecy that was her life. The duo lived modestly, but comfortably, and Mara had beaming pride in her mother's renowned powers. In fact, the darkness that cascaded her very existence strangely made the girl feel... safe. It had been over a decade since Mara had come of age-- a decade since she left behind her home, her family, and the only life she had ever known. All, but the darkness, had left her after she was delivered anew by her Dark Lord. It was as Mara preferred. Because in the darkness, no one had cared to question her humanity. It wasn't until a night of blinding pain and hebetic confusion when her mother would finally reveal to Mara the truth of her existence that Mara wasn't quite human at all. Not fully, at least. Morgan had dared with the devil and willfully lain with an incubus to produce the strange halfling Mara. The source of Mara's pain was all the girl had needed to make her mother's tale believable. After all, the two adjacent lumps atop of her head, the source of her excruciating pain, had begun to sprout into small, curling horns. Morgan grew worrisome that the great magics and sorcery she was known and adored for would become evidence of dark powers and witchcraft and Mara's health began to deteriorate. Morgan was a curer of many things, but nothing she produced with her herbs and medicines were enough to cure her own daughter. The woman grew tired, miserable, and ultimately defeated, but she had not felt the absolute worst about it all until she had returned home one evening to find darling Mara in bed with several men from the village. She could never forget their eager hands fondling Mara's young, lithe body and never could she forget the shameless remarks they made to her. But worst of all, Mara's sickly, pale complexion was returning to a healthy glow while she enjoyed every moment of the crude exchange. Now chained and caged under the Order of Light, Mara felt an unwanted nostalgia from her days locked away in her village home. There was nothing she could do to dissuade her memories and now her mother's final words to her from flooding her thoughts once more I became the devil's whore, and you are my punishment. My punishment is knowing my daughter will be a whore for many. I must repent, but I hope that one day, the gods will allow me to bring you into the light, she told Mara, unapologetic after her repenting revelation. Morgan had already decided, and made arrangements, to sell Mara to a brothel as a secretive, black-market attraction. Although willing, Mara tried to feel resent each time someone threw coin just to fuck the supple succubus, but she could not. She felt delight during each moment of her holes being filled and their seed being spilled upon, and into, her. Over a years span, her powers grew and concocted with her knowledge of sorcery. She had become able to intrude in the dreams of those sleeping, taking on any form from their memories. It had began as an innocent act that enabled her to lure more and more men to fuck her, but then the Dark Lord had eventually found her, and promised her all she had ever wanted without being a slave to mankind. Mara's power had finally been matched and resulted in the half-demon imprisoned by the very humans she had grown to resent. The fact that the human mages were not only strong enough to resist her powers, but intelligent enough to capture the elusive demoness wounded Mara. She pondered on the dreams she invaded the previous night at the camp, hopeful that some of her victims would abandon the Light and come to the aid of her and her Dark Lord. The troops and the caravan that transported the caged demoness had finally approached the barracks and were greeted by resounding jeers and insults targeted at the infamous Mara. Mara hadn't fought the altercation, or had even spoken a word to anyone since she was found with both guards the previous night. With her strength waning and powers weakening, Mara grew reserved. Human sustenance had never fulfilled her needs and such was evident by her thin, but womanly frame. She fed on lust to survive. Only her own release, or a man's into her, would ever be enough to sustain her life. With her hands bound together tightly since her capture, it had become something impossible to achieve. The caravan had stopped completely, and the guards outside discussed how they would deliver her safely to the tower. Mara rattled the new chains at her wrists in an attempt to get the attention of a stray guard who had been recently watching over her. Their eyes met, then ruby lips curved knowingly as his gaze briefly danced along her exposed body, before adverting away. At the time of her capture, Mara had been fully nude whilst she prepared to mount the mage that outsmarted her. For modesty sake, the guards had clothed her in a simple, thin robe, The guard that had bent her over and hungrily ravished her from outside the cage had resulted in a long tear at the side fabric, starting at her waist to show a slender leg and taunt buttock. The front side had suffered a large rip atop of her chest, exposing the plush tops of her fairly sized breasts. Did they train you to not make eye contact with me? That won't save you, she warned him in a teasing, affectionate tone. The guard remained quiet, as he had been trained not to speak with her as well. Annoyed, she continued, Release my bonds and allow me to heal myself! I have become ill, and it would be a shame if I were to die right here after all of your efforts, would it not? she asked. Mara hadn't expected an answer, but she at least needed the guards to take notice to her worsening condition. Her once blush complexion was already beginning to pale in the light. Her almond shaped eyes, which once gave her the impressionable look of an Eastern beauty, had began to sink and her lids began to darken. The long strands of raven hair that framed her comely face began to cling to the cold sweat. It was a misery that she hadn't felt since the very first time it had happened to her. Before Mara could further protest, the iron door rattled and drew her attention to four heavily armed guards entering the cage. None spoke as they gathered her chains and finally escort her to the top of the South Tower. The chains around her ankles were long and loose, and bound to the hooks on the floor of her new prison. The mages who captured Mara had warned the troops of her conjuring magics, so the guards decidedly latched the chains that bonded her wrist together onto the ceiling and hoisted her arms from above. Humiliated, Mara spat at the guards after they had left the room and cursed in her learned demonic tongue. The woman appeared so small and frail against the large, dark walls, it was almost a wonder how she had ever become so infamously feared. But bound, and with no victims in the vicinity, Mara was as helpless as any other human. Even her attempt to speak into the mind of the guard outside the door was repelled by a recent prayer by priest. Over time, she could perhaps pierce into their thoughts and manipulate their memories, but her waning health gave her no hope that she would have the opportunity.