unable to understand.
You did not do it. It was done to you. The huntress became the prey. My prey.
That was decidedly not her voice she heard in her head. Or Marius’s. Suddenly afraid, Linnea looked up at the man above her. The dull red spark in his eyes glowed with infernal fire…and to her horror, the handsome face of the Lord of the Green began to change.
Deep furrows seamed it and a lurid scar cleaved one cheek. Marius-who-was-no-longer-Marius had grown immeasurably old and wicked, his skin like black leather, except for the scar, which pulsed in a thin line of bloody red. Leathern wings with cruel claws at the joints sprang from his shoulders and twisted horns sprang from his long, goatlike head. A rank smell came from the lips that parted in an evil smile.
“So you enjoy a whipping. I will have to do that to you again.”
“N-no.” Her gasping reply was barely audible. “Who are you?”
“You don’t know my name? Can’t you guess?”
Mutely she shook her head.
“I know yours, Linnea. And I am beginning to know you. You think far too highly of yourself. Next time I will whip you harder. Your eyes will be wide open. Mouth too. I will let you cry as much as you like.”
“No!” She gathered her gown about her, as if the fragile folds could protect her from the violence in his gaze. She tried to rise. A gesture from his clawed hand pinned her to the spot. More vile magic. Tears sprang to her eyes as she struggled to rise and flee. One rolled down her cheek.
He flicked it away with a claw. “You are easy to fool,” the creature growled. “And ashamed, I see. You gave in very quickly.”
She was ashamed, profoundly so. But the demon had tricked her first and trapped her second. It had all happened so fast and her desire for him—not this unspeakable beast, but Marius—had been so strong that she had been completely vulnerable to a dangerous illusion. Frantically she cast her mind back, trying to remember every detail.
His curious silence—the growing aura—the unholy odor of the leaves burning against his scorching skin—his strange moodiness and the change in him— She had been defenseless.
He cackled with glee. “What if the real Marius was watching? I expect he would have been excited to see you whipped. How your bottom glowed! Hot and red! Not a mark on you, though. Count yourself lucky.”
Too late she remembered Marius’s words of warning. Make sure it really is me, Linnea. She was too dizzy, too humiliated to remember the name of it …oh, what was his name? The demon’s wicked magic had brought her to her knees all unawares. She had humbly worshipped him, tricked into submission, passively watching, exciting the vicious joy that shone in his eyes now.
At least she had not touched him or taken his cock in her mouth. She averted her gaze from it. Hideous to her eyes, it had grown longer.
“Wh-where is Marius?”
“Bah. Your mighty steed is crashing around in circles. His anger made him transform too quickly to think and I tied his tail to a tree.” The demon raised his clawed hand and a strand of scarlet liquid shot from it, arcing in the air and hitting the ground with a hiss.
The strand cooled to a red color as dull as his eyes and then to gray. He reeled it in and wound it up. “With a rope of iron like this, forged by a blacker magic than you can imagine. Such bonds cannot be broken. A centaur with no tail is an ugly sight. Marius will have to rip his own flesh to free himself.”
He was preoccupied by his own cleverness and cruelty. Linnea tried to creep backwards, still on her knees, but she could not.
“Stop wriggling,” he sneered. “You will move when I tell you. In fact, you will do everything when I tell you.” He set the coiled strand on a rock, studying her for a long moment. “But not willingly.”
“Never.”
“It doesn’t matter. You are exactly the bait I need to catch that idiot Marius. He will hear your screams and get loose
You did not do it. It was done to you. The huntress became the prey. My prey.
That was decidedly not her voice she heard in her head. Or Marius’s. Suddenly afraid, Linnea looked up at the man above her. The dull red spark in his eyes glowed with infernal fire…and to her horror, the handsome face of the Lord of the Green began to change.
Deep furrows seamed it and a lurid scar cleaved one cheek. Marius-who-was-no-longer-Marius had grown immeasurably old and wicked, his skin like black leather, except for the scar, which pulsed in a thin line of bloody red. Leathern wings with cruel claws at the joints sprang from his shoulders and twisted horns sprang from his long, goatlike head. A rank smell came from the lips that parted in an evil smile.
“So you enjoy a whipping. I will have to do that to you again.”
“N-no.” Her gasping reply was barely audible. “Who are you?”
“You don’t know my name? Can’t you guess?”
Mutely she shook her head.
“I know yours, Linnea. And I am beginning to know you. You think far too highly of yourself. Next time I will whip you harder. Your eyes will be wide open. Mouth too. I will let you cry as much as you like.”
“No!” She gathered her gown about her, as if the fragile folds could protect her from the violence in his gaze. She tried to rise. A gesture from his clawed hand pinned her to the spot. More vile magic. Tears sprang to her eyes as she struggled to rise and flee. One rolled down her cheek.
He flicked it away with a claw. “You are easy to fool,” the creature growled. “And ashamed, I see. You gave in very quickly.”
She was ashamed, profoundly so. But the demon had tricked her first and trapped her second. It had all happened so fast and her desire for him—not this unspeakable beast, but Marius—had been so strong that she had been completely vulnerable to a dangerous illusion. Frantically she cast her mind back, trying to remember every detail.
His curious silence—the growing aura—the unholy odor of the leaves burning against his scorching skin—his strange moodiness and the change in him— She had been defenseless.
He cackled with glee. “What if the real Marius was watching? I expect he would have been excited to see you whipped. How your bottom glowed! Hot and red! Not a mark on you, though. Count yourself lucky.”
Too late she remembered Marius’s words of warning. Make sure it really is me, Linnea. She was too dizzy, too humiliated to remember the name of it …oh, what was his name? The demon’s wicked magic had brought her to her knees all unawares. She had humbly worshipped him, tricked into submission, passively watching, exciting the vicious joy that shone in his eyes now.
At least she had not touched him or taken his cock in her mouth. She averted her gaze from it. Hideous to her eyes, it had grown longer.
“Wh-where is Marius?”
“Bah. Your mighty steed is crashing around in circles. His anger made him transform too quickly to think and I tied his tail to a tree.” The demon raised his clawed hand and a strand of scarlet liquid shot from it, arcing in the air and hitting the ground with a hiss.
The strand cooled to a red color as dull as his eyes and then to gray. He reeled it in and wound it up. “With a rope of iron like this, forged by a blacker magic than you can imagine. Such bonds cannot be broken. A centaur with no tail is an ugly sight. Marius will have to rip his own flesh to free himself.”
He was preoccupied by his own cleverness and cruelty. Linnea tried to creep backwards, still on her knees, but she could not.
“Stop wriggling,” he sneered. “You will move when I tell you. In fact, you will do everything when I tell you.” He set the coiled strand on a rock, studying her for a long moment. “But not willingly.”
“Never.”
“It doesn’t matter. You are exactly the bait I need to catch that idiot Marius. He will hear your screams and get loose
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