Dark Convoy
TMF Expert
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Tales of the Dark Feather
By DC
Part 3 The Pain or Pleasure
Ishara, the demoness stood quietly in the great thrown room awaiting her meeting with the one, known here as Dral. Most would think a demon to be a hideous creature, but Isharas form was pleasing, even by human standards. Her body was slim and toned and for the most part human looking, however protruding from her back were two massive wings, they were folded in close to her but that did nothing to take away from there splendor. Her skin was an ocean blue, her eyes and hair however were as white as the purest ivory. Her clothing only added to her splendor. She wore a thin sash like cloth over her exaggerated chest and what could have been ¼ of a dress below, two long strips of black fabric hung by a gold thread in the front and back, barley covering her at all.
Dral soaked every curve in as he watched her through his viewing orb. He knew full well that she had been sent to seduce him, most likely to find out his secrets. With his power and the power of the feather, he could easily absorb her power to his own. As he considered the possibilities he realized that if he could posses her mind, she would make a powerful and lovely edition to his forces. Grinning to himself, he stood and headed for the thrown room.
Isharas patients were all but used up. “Once my mission is complete, I’m going to rip his heart out.” She took a little comfort in the idea, but before she could make any further execution plans she was interrupted by a voice behind her.
“My apologies for being late, said Dral, I’m really a busy man.”
“So Iv noticed, Ishara replied, her voice came out smooth and clear.
“So. Said Dral, what can I do for the demon clan.”
Ishara watched closely, trying to reed his face, his movement, anything that would give her a clue as to who or what she was dealing with. “We have been watching your growing empire and wish to share in your success.”
Dral smiled at the remark, strait froward, calm, clear, and complete bull shit. Very well, he thought, then why drag this out?
Smiling widely at her he said, “really, I was under the impression you were to seduce me, learn what you could, then kill me.”
Isharas blood ran cold, how could he have known every detail. Ishara knew this was no time to second-guess her self. Whipping around, she sent a mass of green energy at him…., witch was deflected easily.
“My dear you obviously have know idea what you’re up against, Dral said with a smile, allow me to demonstrate.
Raising his hand, Dral let loose a fury of black lightning witch encompassed Ishara and brought her to her knees. Ishara looked up to see Dral standing over her with a sadistic grin.
“Now my dear, a knew game begins.”
As the energy swept over her again she gave in, and passed out.
Ishara awoke to find herself bound tightly to an x shaped frame. Metal gauntlets of a type she had never seen before bound her arms. Her feet were equally restrained, bound by metal devices that encompassed her ankle then spread out and held each toe individually. Try as she might, she could not move her feet or toes in any way. For the first time in her life, Ishara felt vulnerable and afraid. The sound of Drals voice didn’t help matters.
“I trust you are comfortable my dear.”
Ishara summoned up all her courage and said, “you’ll regret this, I promise.”
Ignoring her statement Dral examined her, “ I debated weather to absorb you, as I have so many others, but I think you’ll be more use to me as a slave.”
Dral extended his hand and placed something on her lower leg. Looking down as much as she could, Ishara saw a black scorpion with strange markings on its shell. The scorpion began moving slowly up her leg, coiling its tail into strike position. The tiny legs of the scorpion sent a strong sensation up her leg, but she was too afraid to move. The scorpion stopped at her thigh, reared its tail and struck her blue skin. Ishara jerked, but it didn’t hurt all that much.
Dral picked up his little pet, “ that’s a good boy,” he said petting the bug, “the Mind Scorpions poison will soon weaken you mind enough, then you will be mine.”
Ishara smiled, “my mind is to strong for such feeble poison.”
Drals smile didn’t waver, “your mind will be to occupied to counter the poison.”
Dral went to the foot of the rack and began running his finger up and down her foot. Ishara jerked but remained strait faced. Dral excepted the challenge and began using all his fingers at once. Ishara gritted her teeth, the restraints on her toes were pulling them back slightly, so her foot was stretched and her arches were bared.
After a few minutes Dral stopped and pulled a white feather from hi pocket. “Lovely, isn’t it? “Form the wing of a Pegasus, just like the one around my neck.”
“So?” Ishara shot back.
“The softest material in the world,” Dral said, he began running the feather down her leg and across her toes. Ishara pulled furiously at her bonds while at the same time tried desperately not to laugh. Dral look cruelly at her, painted red toes and began another series of brushes with the feather.
“Stop it you baaahhsterd, stoooop!” Ishara was losing her control and it made her blood burn with hatred. She could endure any pain, any torture, but despite her all her power she was still as ticklish as a little girl.
Dral was now moving the feather up and down her foot sending more maddening waves up her leg.
Ishara mouth had curled into a smile and she bit her tongue out of desperation.
Dral was enjoying watching her resistance, knowing it was in vane. He began stroking her littlest toe with the tip of the feather making little circles with it.
Ishara held her breath with all her might to stop the swell of laughter that was pushing against her chest. Finally her instinct to breathe took over and the floodgate opened. At first the sound was that of an animal roaring but after the initial release the beautiful laughter, like that of a young maiden flowed out steady and strong.
Ishara arched her back and pulled with all her might at the bounds witch held her in torment but the was no give to the unearthly metal.
Dral moved to the other foot and began a new pattern on her arch.
“NO, NO, NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!”
Isharas screams would have shattered glass, were they’re any in the castle. The mer touch of the feather was inhumanly cruel.
Finally broken, Ishara fell into the laughter and prayed for death. She felt hope, life, everything drift away, only the maddening touch of the feather and the deafening sound of her tortured laughter existed, and suddenly all fell silent.
Dral moved to the front of the rack and looked at Isharas unconscious face. With in moments she stirred, turning to Dral and opening her eyes she said, “what is thy bidding, my master?”
To Be Continued
By DC
Part 3 The Pain or Pleasure
Ishara, the demoness stood quietly in the great thrown room awaiting her meeting with the one, known here as Dral. Most would think a demon to be a hideous creature, but Isharas form was pleasing, even by human standards. Her body was slim and toned and for the most part human looking, however protruding from her back were two massive wings, they were folded in close to her but that did nothing to take away from there splendor. Her skin was an ocean blue, her eyes and hair however were as white as the purest ivory. Her clothing only added to her splendor. She wore a thin sash like cloth over her exaggerated chest and what could have been ¼ of a dress below, two long strips of black fabric hung by a gold thread in the front and back, barley covering her at all.
Dral soaked every curve in as he watched her through his viewing orb. He knew full well that she had been sent to seduce him, most likely to find out his secrets. With his power and the power of the feather, he could easily absorb her power to his own. As he considered the possibilities he realized that if he could posses her mind, she would make a powerful and lovely edition to his forces. Grinning to himself, he stood and headed for the thrown room.
Isharas patients were all but used up. “Once my mission is complete, I’m going to rip his heart out.” She took a little comfort in the idea, but before she could make any further execution plans she was interrupted by a voice behind her.
“My apologies for being late, said Dral, I’m really a busy man.”
“So Iv noticed, Ishara replied, her voice came out smooth and clear.
“So. Said Dral, what can I do for the demon clan.”
Ishara watched closely, trying to reed his face, his movement, anything that would give her a clue as to who or what she was dealing with. “We have been watching your growing empire and wish to share in your success.”
Dral smiled at the remark, strait froward, calm, clear, and complete bull shit. Very well, he thought, then why drag this out?
Smiling widely at her he said, “really, I was under the impression you were to seduce me, learn what you could, then kill me.”
Isharas blood ran cold, how could he have known every detail. Ishara knew this was no time to second-guess her self. Whipping around, she sent a mass of green energy at him…., witch was deflected easily.
“My dear you obviously have know idea what you’re up against, Dral said with a smile, allow me to demonstrate.
Raising his hand, Dral let loose a fury of black lightning witch encompassed Ishara and brought her to her knees. Ishara looked up to see Dral standing over her with a sadistic grin.
“Now my dear, a knew game begins.”
As the energy swept over her again she gave in, and passed out.
Ishara awoke to find herself bound tightly to an x shaped frame. Metal gauntlets of a type she had never seen before bound her arms. Her feet were equally restrained, bound by metal devices that encompassed her ankle then spread out and held each toe individually. Try as she might, she could not move her feet or toes in any way. For the first time in her life, Ishara felt vulnerable and afraid. The sound of Drals voice didn’t help matters.
“I trust you are comfortable my dear.”
Ishara summoned up all her courage and said, “you’ll regret this, I promise.”
Ignoring her statement Dral examined her, “ I debated weather to absorb you, as I have so many others, but I think you’ll be more use to me as a slave.”
Dral extended his hand and placed something on her lower leg. Looking down as much as she could, Ishara saw a black scorpion with strange markings on its shell. The scorpion began moving slowly up her leg, coiling its tail into strike position. The tiny legs of the scorpion sent a strong sensation up her leg, but she was too afraid to move. The scorpion stopped at her thigh, reared its tail and struck her blue skin. Ishara jerked, but it didn’t hurt all that much.
Dral picked up his little pet, “ that’s a good boy,” he said petting the bug, “the Mind Scorpions poison will soon weaken you mind enough, then you will be mine.”
Ishara smiled, “my mind is to strong for such feeble poison.”
Drals smile didn’t waver, “your mind will be to occupied to counter the poison.”
Dral went to the foot of the rack and began running his finger up and down her foot. Ishara jerked but remained strait faced. Dral excepted the challenge and began using all his fingers at once. Ishara gritted her teeth, the restraints on her toes were pulling them back slightly, so her foot was stretched and her arches were bared.
After a few minutes Dral stopped and pulled a white feather from hi pocket. “Lovely, isn’t it? “Form the wing of a Pegasus, just like the one around my neck.”
“So?” Ishara shot back.
“The softest material in the world,” Dral said, he began running the feather down her leg and across her toes. Ishara pulled furiously at her bonds while at the same time tried desperately not to laugh. Dral look cruelly at her, painted red toes and began another series of brushes with the feather.
“Stop it you baaahhsterd, stoooop!” Ishara was losing her control and it made her blood burn with hatred. She could endure any pain, any torture, but despite her all her power she was still as ticklish as a little girl.
Dral was now moving the feather up and down her foot sending more maddening waves up her leg.
Ishara mouth had curled into a smile and she bit her tongue out of desperation.
Dral was enjoying watching her resistance, knowing it was in vane. He began stroking her littlest toe with the tip of the feather making little circles with it.
Ishara held her breath with all her might to stop the swell of laughter that was pushing against her chest. Finally her instinct to breathe took over and the floodgate opened. At first the sound was that of an animal roaring but after the initial release the beautiful laughter, like that of a young maiden flowed out steady and strong.
Ishara arched her back and pulled with all her might at the bounds witch held her in torment but the was no give to the unearthly metal.
Dral moved to the other foot and began a new pattern on her arch.
“NO, NO, NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!”
Isharas screams would have shattered glass, were they’re any in the castle. The mer touch of the feather was inhumanly cruel.
Finally broken, Ishara fell into the laughter and prayed for death. She felt hope, life, everything drift away, only the maddening touch of the feather and the deafening sound of her tortured laughter existed, and suddenly all fell silent.
Dral moved to the front of the rack and looked at Isharas unconscious face. With in moments she stirred, turning to Dral and opening her eyes she said, “what is thy bidding, my master?”
To Be Continued
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