Bound To a Demon King

"More....Ah...yes!" A woman's wild moans reverberated across the four walls of a dimly lit bedroom chamber. Her hands were pinned over her head, and her feet hooked onto the stout looking man, with golden locks of hair. Scattered across and glued to his sweat soaked forehead down to the back of his neck.

"To hell with the coalition!" He groaned under his breath, thrusting with more strength, causing the wooden bed underneath to cradle. "Those filthy outpost devils can drop of starvation, and let us win this war."  Said he, in hooking the woman's slender legs, a mischievous grin drawn across his face, as he backed away from her.

"Please, don't stop now." She cried with her eyes at the back of her head, and drool falling from her lips unto the neat white coverings.

The man ignored her desperate plea and marched towards a wooden tall wardrobe, with silver nobs. He pulled it's doors apart to reveal a variety of playthings, ranging from collars to whips.

He drew back his lips as his blue eyes landed on a worn out whip, an indication that it has been used frequently.

"Get on your knees and beg for it." He instructed the lust clouded woman, raising the whip over his head, a dead serious look on his face.

Conversant with such foreplay, the brunette woman wrapped herself in a blanket and got on her fours, shaking her hips to and fro, begging to be fucked.

"Stupid bitch!" He growled and reached out for the covers, forcefully stripping it off her back. In one swift movement, he raised his whip and awarded her three heavy lashes on her ass.

"Aaaaaah!" She cried and curled her back, tears gathered at the corner of her brown eyes.

"I said beg me!" The crazed look in his eyes sent shivers down the woman's spine, forcing her to comply with his wishes.

"Please, sleep with me." She conceded in a quiet tone, glaring at the silver cane, slanted against the door, with a peacock crest engraved on it's head.

His hungry fingers grabbed her by the hair, pulling her head back, "bark like the bitch you are." He whispered, then bit hard on her earlobes, earning a wince out of her.

With a whimpering lower lip, she opened her mouth to speak, but was rudely interrupted by the sound of the bedroom door forcefully kicked open.

Astounded, he lost his grip on the whip as his feet subconsciously backed away, from the figure blocking the only exit.

Hanging on the intruder's waist was a massive blade, with it's head sticking out. On his back was a raven black cloak, that draped down from his the back of his head and danced at his ankles. His cloak shrouded about half of his upper face, exposing only the twisted smile on his lips.

He strode into the chamber, leaving behind mucky prints from his laced up boots, with his right hand lounged on the head of the sword.

"State your name! Demanded the horrified man who looked around in a panicked manner, searching for something to defend himself.

" I'm warning you! I come from an extremely influential bloodline, none of your clan will be spared." His voice cracked midway through his threatening, which caused his intruder to chuckle and draw out his sword.

The woman, snatched the blanket from the floor and swiftly wrapped it around herself, as she slowly, crawled over to the door, making an escape.

"If you're going to murder anyone, take her life! I'll pay you double what your master is willing to give." The once proud man bargained, forcing a smile.

Slash

Blood splattered all over the wooden floor, the naked blonde man with a burning red blazing cut on his chest fell face flat into his own pool of blood. With both his eyes opened wide in shock from dying.

Spit

With a bloody sword raised over his head, he spat on the dead man's corpse and beheaded him, without batting an eye. He wiped his sword against the bedsheets before placing it back into it's case.

"I'll be taking this." He declared openly, picking up the man's bloody head, the corners of his lips twirled in disgust as he strolled out the very door he came from.

On his way out, he stepped over the tens of bodies with similar slash marks at the centre of their chests. He hooked the head under his left armpit, forming a trail of blood drops on his way out.

Outside, the half naked woman perched behind a carriage, hugging her knees in fear, with clenched eyes and quivering lips. Her ears picked up on the sound of distant footsteps approaching the carriage.

The wind grew heavier all of a sudden and almost knocked the blanket off of her, she tightened her grip on the blanket, till her knuckles were red.

Just as she was about to make an attempt to climb over the low fence, a shadow casted itself upon her. The fearful woman raised her head to take a peak at who it was.

Hopeful the assassin had been vanquished, however naive that sounded.

The moment she raised her eye lids, her first and last gaze, were a pair of tinted yellow eyes, piercing deep into her soul, stripping any ounce of hope she had left of escaping.

A youthful woman sat inside of a carriage, staring animatedly at the West wing tower built into a lavish Motte and Bailey castle made of the finest stones.

She had her chin rested on her palm, as wild thoughts spiralled around in her head, causing her lips to curl into a frown.

Questions all geared towards her future husband, the one she never knew existed until a week ago, after a sudden summon by her stepfather.

All through the week, the woman dressed in an emerald green gown couldn't help but try draw a picture of what he would look like.

"Perhaps he's scrawny and with sparse facial hair, with his crown slipping from his forehead as he walks." She shrugged her shoulders, displeased by the fact that her would be husband was two years younger than her.

"We're all set to leave your highness." The coachman's near distant announced, barely reaching her ears.

"We're all set here as well, you may take off now." Replied a chubby woman with rosy red cheeks and white laced gloves worn on both hands.

The voice belonged to Harriet, the handmaid and confidant to the young princess.

"Wear this, you could catch a cold in this weather." Admonished the older woman, pressing a fluffy white cloak to the young lady, pulling her out of her string of thought.

The wheels of the carriage started to turn, as the horses pulled forward, taking gentle strides away from the confines of the castle walls. Till they eventually picked up the pace and started galloping with full speed, down the hill.

The young princess trained her gaze on the building behind her, until it became so small that it faded into the distance.

"How many days shall this journey be?" Asked the Princess, spreading out the folded map she had swiped away from her stepfather's study, while he had his back turned to her.

"Six days, give and take, we have a long journey ahead of us Elena." The woman remarked, picking up the wooden fruit basket, resting beside her feet.

"The Queen sent these for your departure, she was caught up with her duties and regrets not seeing you off." Harriet mentioned, taking out some grapes from the basket.

Elena rolled her eyes at the basket and scoffed, "I don't want any of it." She spitefully said, diverting her gaze back to the map, searching for landmarks.

"Are you still bitter over the marriage? You should be glad that the king arranged such a high ranked prince as your husband. Your sisters are rotten with envy, and your brothers are spiteful over your good luck." Harriet explained in a bid to cheer her up.

"I'm getting married to a child!" Elena paraphrased, hitting the nail on the head with a hammer. "Just so his majesty may wear his crown for a while longer." Her eyes narrowed in rage and her jaw clenched tightly.

Harriet parted her lips to say something, but decided against it, the anger the young princess had was justified.

Early that morning, news had reached the castle, that just two days ago, that another of the dukes in their newly aligned country had been assassinated and his head placed on display at the country's capital.

In need of more borderline defense, the king hastened up the wedding between Elena and the crown prince of one of the leading countries in the cold war. Strengthening their bonds and setting a three hundred man army, as a heavy dowry.

"Get some rest, you'll need it for the rest of the journey." Said Harriet, putting aside the fruit basket, a worrisome expression drawn across her face.

For some reason, she could not shake off the bad feeling in her chest, whenever her gaze landed on the green eyed princess, with long flowing blonde hair.