The Raven Tales
She Belongs to Him
Fer Sure- the Medic Droid
Raven/Malchior
--
The beat of the music was hypnotic. It was impossible not to be on the dance floor. For all, that is, except for our little Gothic bird. She sat alone in a booth, sipping her cranberry and vodka mix (Sure, she wasn’t old enough to drink, but a little magic can convince anyone of anything).
Raven was half way through her drink when a tall man, about twenty years of age, with long white hair came up to her. He wore black jeans with a studded belt and chain and a form fitting black tank top. What startled Raven the most though, was his black scarf which hid his mouth and nose and his piercing, icy blue eyes. “Care to dance or, perhaps, just talk?” he asked in a melodic, English accent.
“You!” shrieked Raven as she jumped out of her booth.
“Shh, my love, I just wanted to chat.”
“Chat?! How can I chat with you?! You’re not even supposed to be out of your book! What spell helped you?! Who helped you?! How--!”
Malchior clamped his hand over her mouth, “That’s for me to know and for you to never to find out. Now then, how about that talk, hmm?” He forced her back down into the booth and sat next to her.
“Fuck you!” Raven screamed behind his hand, her body trembling with anger.
Malchior sighed, “Why must you be so difficult all the time? Don’t you miss those wonderful evenings we spent together alone in your room? All the fun we had?” he leaned in closer and whispered in her ear, “All the pleasure?”
“Bastard!” she cursed, struggling against his iron grip.
“How about one night of that again? The spell that took me out of that book will only last until midnight. We have two hours. We can have one more night of pleasure and maybe, if you like it enough, you can release me for good, neh?” Malchior removed his hand from her mouth.
Raven slapped him across the face, “Never,” she whispered harshly. The sorcerer stood up straight, his hand resting on his cheek, and smiled wickedly.
“Hmm. . .how can I possibly word this. . . ahh, how about ‘Too bad’?”
Before Raven could answer, Malchior transported them in a blinding white light to a lavishly decorated, gothic styled bedroom. He pushed Raven onto her back on the bed and climbed on top of her. He bit hard on her neck, drawing blood, and Raven's body spasmed in pain and pleasure.
“You are mine!” he growled with animalistic dominance.
Raven’s plea was barely audible as she twisted beneath the wizard, “No. . .”
XXX
The dragon had claimed his bird again. Before he disappeared back to his book, he looked over his pretty once more. He noticed that she now had inked her lumbar with a tattoo of a bird with wings spread out in flight. “Oh, love, I absolutely love it but, I am afraid it is missing something. . .” he raised his hand, glowing with magic, and touched it to her tattoo. “Much better.”
XXX
Raven stood naked in front of her mirror, inspecting each mark the sadistic bastard gave her. Love bites and scratches everywhere. ‘Maybe I should wear pants for today,” she thought.
She turned around and looked over her shoulder to look at her back. She gasped as she saw her new ink. A dragon, with Malchior’s colors, replaced her bird that was previously tattooed on her lumbar. Its wings were spread out in flight or possibly (most likely) in triumph.
She looked away from the mirror in disgrace and cursed the beast, “Damn you.” Raven changed quickly and then walked to the magic chest where that cursed book was imprisoned. Taking a deep breath, she opened the chest.
A triumphant laughter filled the room. Paper, books, and random other objects flew around the room in a gust of magical wind. When everything settled, Malchior stood in the middle of the mess. He bent down to Raven, who was still kneeling on the floor by the chest, and grasped her chin softly. Suddenly, he roughly grabbed it and forced her off her knees and her head up to look into his eyes. “You always were easy to compromise with. Surely, you do know what this means now, do you not?” Raven’s eyes watered and her body trembled. She felt mute, unable to speak. Malchior’s eyes were filled with such intensity, with such insanity, that she felt like they could very well see her vulnerable soul. “You belong to ME!.”
--
Raven/Malchior
--
The beat of the music was hypnotic. It was impossible not to be on the dance floor. For all, that is, except for our little Gothic bird. She sat alone in a booth, sipping her cranberry and vodka mix (Sure, she wasn’t old enough to drink, but a little magic can convince anyone of anything).
Raven was half way through her drink when a tall man, about twenty years of age, with long white hair came up to her. He wore black jeans with a studded belt and chain and a form fitting black tank top. What startled Raven the most though, was his black scarf which hid his mouth and nose and his piercing, icy blue eyes. “Care to dance or, perhaps, just talk?” he asked in a melodic, English accent.
“You!” shrieked Raven as she jumped out of her booth.
“Shh, my love, I just wanted to chat.”
“Chat?! How can I chat with you?! You’re not even supposed to be out of your book! What spell helped you?! Who helped you?! How--!”
Malchior clamped his hand over her mouth, “That’s for me to know and for you to never to find out. Now then, how about that talk, hmm?” He forced her back down into the booth and sat next to her.
“Fuck you!” Raven screamed behind his hand, her body trembling with anger.
Malchior sighed, “Why must you be so difficult all the time? Don’t you miss those wonderful evenings we spent together alone in your room? All the fun we had?” he leaned in closer and whispered in her ear, “All the pleasure?”
“Bastard!” she cursed, struggling against his iron grip.
“How about one night of that again? The spell that took me out of that book will only last until midnight. We have two hours. We can have one more night of pleasure and maybe, if you like it enough, you can release me for good, neh?” Malchior removed his hand from her mouth.
Raven slapped him across the face, “Never,” she whispered harshly. The sorcerer stood up straight, his hand resting on his cheek, and smiled wickedly.
“Hmm. . .how can I possibly word this. . . ahh, how about ‘Too bad’?”
Before Raven could answer, Malchior transported them in a blinding white light to a lavishly decorated, gothic styled bedroom. He pushed Raven onto her back on the bed and climbed on top of her. He bit hard on her neck, drawing blood, and Raven's body spasmed in pain and pleasure.
“You are mine!” he growled with animalistic dominance.
Raven’s plea was barely audible as she twisted beneath the wizard, “No. . .”
XXX
The dragon had claimed his bird again. Before he disappeared back to his book, he looked over his pretty once more. He noticed that she now had inked her lumbar with a tattoo of a bird with wings spread out in flight. “Oh, love, I absolutely love it but, I am afraid it is missing something. . .” he raised his hand, glowing with magic, and touched it to her tattoo. “Much better.”
XXX
Raven stood naked in front of her mirror, inspecting each mark the sadistic bastard gave her. Love bites and scratches everywhere. ‘Maybe I should wear pants for today,” she thought.
She turned around and looked over her shoulder to look at her back. She gasped as she saw her new ink. A dragon, with Malchior’s colors, replaced her bird that was previously tattooed on her lumbar. Its wings were spread out in flight or possibly (most likely) in triumph.
She looked away from the mirror in disgrace and cursed the beast, “Damn you.” Raven changed quickly and then walked to the magic chest where that cursed book was imprisoned. Taking a deep breath, she opened the chest.
A triumphant laughter filled the room. Paper, books, and random other objects flew around the room in a gust of magical wind. When everything settled, Malchior stood in the middle of the mess. He bent down to Raven, who was still kneeling on the floor by the chest, and grasped her chin softly. Suddenly, he roughly grabbed it and forced her off her knees and her head up to look into his eyes. “You always were easy to compromise with. Surely, you do know what this means now, do you not?” Raven’s eyes watered and her body trembled. She felt mute, unable to speak. Malchior’s eyes were filled with such intensity, with such insanity, that she felt like they could very well see her vulnerable soul. “You belong to ME!.”
--
♠ ♠ ♠
well, this was definately a big change from the last chapter. The mood and everything was fun to write.R&R please :D