Trial by Passion | By : Ecstatic-Evil Category: +S through Z > Soul Caliber Views: 3678 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own anything pertaining to the Soul Series (including the characters). This is purely an independent, non-monetary work. |
English Channel
It felt good for Ivy to return to her original pigment after a long journey to Dover, having grown weary of hiding her true nature. Part of her wished she and Vännen could have just killed their way to the seaside city, but even beings as bloodthirsty as them needed some subtlety. Now that they left port and were on the channel, Ivy felt the need to indulge her hunger for souls.
A roar rocked the ship, and a tailed demon covered in chitin grabbed one of the sailors with his imposing talons by the neck, crushing and suffocating the unfortunate soul. Though the demon’s eyes were glowing yellow all around, Ivy knew he was staring at the sailor dying in his hand. Vännen was clearly enjoying himself, and Ivy felt her pussy moisten from watching him in that form. As the sailor died and Ivy felt his soul transfer to her, Vännen sprout bat-like wings and roared towards the sky as if in sweet release.
Ivy was not idle during this time, lashing out with Soul Edge toward the sailors. She could feel the bladed segments separating, she saw what the eyes on each segment saw, and guided the blades on her will alone, as though they were extensions of her own body—far better than wielding her Ivy Blade ever felt. Like a whip, Soul Edge swayed back and forth among the three sailors in her path, slicing the tendons in their legs and arms to leave the victims suffering on the deck floor. Blood flowed on the wood, seeping through the cracks and dripping below decks.
Sadistically, Ivy used Soul Edge to caress the sailors’ faces like a loving mother before pulling on the hilt, the segmented blade slicing deep into their bodies and severing every major blood vessel. While their lives slipped from their bodies, their souls flooded into Ivy, screaming and protesting in sweet agony all the while. Summoning her unholy power, Ivy’s aura extended to the sailors’ bodies and reanimated them as mindless slaves to her will.
“Go! Slaughter all you find! But leave the captain to me,” she commanded, leaving the sailors to moan in acknowledgement. They moved to butcher their former comrades, to whom Ivy’s aura also traveled and then reanimated.
The decks got a long due paint job as Ivy and Vännen continued their orgasmic rampage on the ship, reanimating the crew to work the ship for them. Ivy came upon the captain’s cabin, the door locked and barricaded from the inside. She chuckled; this mere mortal was a fool to believe a physical obstacle such as a door was going to keep her from her fun.
“Goodness! Abandoning your crew? What an incompetent captain,” Ivy teased before channeling power to Soul Edge. Lashing out, Soul Edge cut through the door and the dresser like a hot knife through butter, revealing the captain behind a desk. He fired a snaphance pistol towards Ivy, intending to hit her heart—instead, the shot landed several inches lower, puncturing her abdominal artery.
Ivy chuckled—to any normal human being, such an injury ensured that they would bleed to death within minutes, if not seconds. For her, it was a minor nuisance easily repaired by her power. Her aura flooded over her and the wound closed in seconds, not even leaving a scar to show for the captain’s effort.
The pathetic man cowered in a corner in the cabin, terrified by the power Ivy demonstrated. She stood over him, looking down and enjoying the fear he exuded like incense filling the air. Like the dominatrix she was, she had him at her mercy.
“Wha-what are you?” he barely managed to choke out.
“A being beyond your comprehension, mortal,” Ivy said, thrusting Soul Edge to wrap around him and restrain him, the very tip digging into his balls. “You were quite brave to wound me like that, but I can sense your cowardice. I fear you won’t entertain me enough while I have my way with you—I demand that you grow a pair and keep me engaged.”
A few of the undead crew members walked in, garnering a look of horror from the captain.
“Do you like what I did?” Ivy teased. “Meet my new pets. Obedient pets that don’t talk back are the best kind, wouldn’t you agree? What I did to them is a mercy compared to what you’ll get.” Turning to the crewmen, Ivy commanded, “Strip him, tie him to his chair, then get back to work.”
The captain struggled against his former crew to no avail, and failed to get them to recognize him. To him, it was as if…they were already dead. They tore off everything he wore, found some rope and shackles, and had him restrained in his own cabin—the bottom cushion of his chair was gone, leaving his cock and ass open to the elements. With the captain prepared, the crew left, leaving Ivy alone with her new toy.
“Now that we’re all alone, let’s have some fun,” Ivy said, pulling in Soul Edge.
“What do you want me to do?” the captain. “Do you expect me to talk about myself?”
“No, captain,” Ivy replied before winding Soul Edge in whip form back for a strike. “I expect you to SCREAM!”
She struck once, making him scream as the skin covering his abs gave way to Soul Edge’s sharp blade, leaving a trail of red that oozed with each heartbeat of the captain—like paint sliding down a canvas. She shivered in delight as goose bumps rose across her flesh—the sound never got old. She struck again, and again—legs, arms, and back were ravaged and sometimes skin just barely hung on. His ass was lashed several times, leading his blood to drip on the floor—Ivy felt herself cream with every strike, knew she was going to leak soon. Seconds became minutes, and minutes became an hour, but he had stopped screaming long before the hour passed. Regardless of whether it was a miracle or a curse, the captain hadn’t bled out.
“Is that all you have to offer me?” Ivy spat. “Come on, scream some more!”
He refused to do so—what was another lashing compared to what he had already endured? Over the last hour, he felt so much pain that all feeling became dulled—he learned to block it all out. Perhaps he had even learned to love the pain.
“Fine,” Ivy said. “If pain won’t make you scream anymore, perhaps a little tenderness will…”
He looked up to find her pulling slowly and suggestively on the knots of her outfit’s legs, followed by those around her curvaceous body. The gauntlet on her arm fell off, and then her whole outfit followed, leaving behind a naked white-haired, purple skinned demon in human skin. Sauntering, and with her hips swaying, she approached him and then sat upon his lap.
The skin of her ass touched his thighs and even exposed muscle, radiating more heat to him than he ever could have imagined—she scalded him like hot steel. Forcing her fingers deep within herself, Ivy made herself leak handfuls of her slick fluids. Stroking his cock with the fluid she held, she forced blood to flow to his cock. Sloppily, she thrust onto him, the head of his cock pushed into the tight passage of her pussy. He could swear that he felt her walls clamp onto him, as if restraining his cock in place. Assured that all was ready, Ivy started to thrust down on him.
Forcing him to enter her and making him endure the humiliation of the situation, the captain screamed as loudly as he could, despite knowing it would fall on deaf ears. Ivy chuckled upon hearing him scream, and practically dared him to struggle. He refused, knowing that struggling would only cause him to cum sooner.
Ivy wasn’t going to have any of that, so she summoned her power and prodded his soul painfully, mercilessly and determinately forcing him to love the pain of their joining. And he felt as though his muscles were being stripped off of his bones, only to be fastened back on with molten metal. It felt like his soul was being torn from his body, only to be reunited in the most painful manner possible. The worst part was that even though he knew it was a trick on his senses, he felt it as though it were real—from Ivy thrusting onto him, to her wall scalding his cock, to agonizing pain and minute pleasure slipping down his spine. It was ultimately the small, fleeting pleasure tempting him that made him buck.
Every spike of pain and pleasure sent him thrusting deep into his rapist, his cock restrained by the walls of her pussy, keeping skin in place while he bucked. Gradually, he felt his seed work its way from his balls to the tip of his cock, and he finally caved to the demands of his rapist. He cried in gagged agony with his hot release, feeling the blast of his seed leaving him with each throb of his cock, serving to intensify the heat from Ivy.
Ivy inhaled sharply and moaned in pleasure, licking her lips as though she’d just finished a delicious meal. Satisfied with her handiwork, she slipped free from his cock, a thick rope of white oozing from her open pussy.
When she was finally done with him, Ivy used Soul Edge to inflict her greatest torment to the captain so far: the tip of her blade dug into the tenderized flesh of his sac. Blood dripped as she dug deeper and deeper, feeling within him as if her own hands were digging. Cut this tube and that, cut this blood vessel, tear this muscle, and finally set the edge of the blade hard under his sac. Yelling in pleasure, Ivy tugged on the hilt hard, sending each segment of Soul Edge slicing and ripping into his sac. The pathetic captain screamed in pain so loudly, one would have to be in the Far East not to hear it. Right on the floor, as Ivy intended, was the captain’s testicles, continually showering in his blood. Her hand closed around them, and she savored the wet warmth they gave off as she squeezed them firmly and licked them sensuously.
Grinning, Ivy turned and sauntered away from the captain. Seeing him in pain and bleeding from where his testicles had been, she licked the blade of Soul Edge, enjoying the taste of his blood. She looked upon this broken and bleeding form and she saw artistry in what she did, the sheer beauty trumping anything that Michelangelo could sculpt.
“Your soul is hardly even worth eating,” Ivy said. “No matter—I have business in Europe, anyways. Enjoy what little time remains of your life—but I want to show you how much I enjoy seeing you broken.”
Then Vännen walked in, demonic shell shed and as nude as the day he was born. Upon seeing Ivy in the nude and covered in blood, his member gradually engorged to a hardness that rivaled diamond. Her depths beckoned to him and the look in Ivy’s eyes told him that she wanted to envelop him in her scalding heat, entirely willing to have an audience.
“I hope I’m not interrupting your show,” he said with a grin.
“No, love,” Ivy said, waving the captain’s jewels around like a trophy. “As a matter of fact, I was hoping you would turn up. Remember your offer to me?”
Closing the distance in less than a heartbeat, Vännen embraced Ivy and she felt the very head of his cock tease her wet and swollen labia, lust ruling both of their thoughts. Mouths opened to each other, and tongues wrestled for dominance—when their mouths parted, a single string of spit still connected the two tongues.
“How could I forget, my Lady?” Vännen asked. He looked at the testicles Ivy held in her hand and smirked. “Will that be part of our foreplay?”
“Perhaps not in the way you’d expect,” Ivy said before breaking off the embrace and walking towards the bleeding captain. Tilting his chin up, Ivy shoved the captain’s testicles far into his own mouth, gagging him as she willed Soul Edge to wrap around him and keep his head straight.
“Now I’m ready,” Ivy said, the lips of her pussy opening as the head of his cock hovered beneath them, already dipping inside of her. She ached so badly, wishing he would stop teasing her and fill her. “Ravish me, love…”
The captain could only watch helplessly as the two psychopaths ground against each other repeatedly, each climax in a different part of his cabin. Vännen pinned Ivy to a bookcase, his bed, his desk, the window out towards the captain’s balcony, and even used the captain himself as support. Ivy’s fluids dripped on the floor, flowed down Vännen’s shaft, and mingled with the captain’s blood on the floor. Seeing this, Vännen dove with Ivy to the floor and brought his tongue to lick the mixture, purring in pleasure at the taste before thrusting even more aggressively into her.
The last sight the captain saw before fading away was the couple climaxing on the floor in front of him, rolling around in his blood and cum, the loud screams of orgasm overwhelming all other sensations. And yet, the thrusting didn’t stop, with Ivy’s hands caressing Vännen’s ass as she still felt his prick enter and leave.
The sails were down and the crewmen were hard at work with the repairs as the naked and bloody couple came topside to see a thick mist permeated with evil influence start to roll in on Ivy’s command, masking their presence from the unworthy. They would crash the ship away from any ports and slaughter their way to Ostrheinsburg Castle, where Ivy would make a home away from home for herself.
“Tira should be there with the Alexandra child by the time we arrive,” Vännen said, as though reading her mind. “So, have you ever been ravished against a mast?”
“We could do it, if you’d like,” Ivy smirked.
“I’ll be flying to the mainland afterwards to scout for a place to run aground,” Vännen said.
Pinning Ivy to the mast, his cock already ready with another load, he entered her yet again. Her pleasured scream went ignored by the undead crewmen, but prompted Vännen to thrust more and more. Jet after jet of semen entered Ivy, and she felt herself overflowing, pressure building with the combination of her fluids with his. It was only after his cock withdrew that her pussy sprayed its contents out onto the deck, painting it white.
Not bothering to have it cleaned up, Vännen remained naked on the deck as his flesh burned off and left a being engulfed in the fires of Hell itself. With a pair of wings bursting outwards, the fire dissipated and the demon left behind roared into the sky, sending a shockwave through the ship that sent a few unfortunate crewmen overboard and sent waves through the water. Ivy, however, remained untouched by the shockwave, and instead approached the demon. She enjoyed the way his chitin felt under her fingers and planted a lust-filled lick on the carapace covering his head.
“There’s no hurry, love,” Ivy said. “Take your time. Slaughter…indulge yourself…”
Unable to express his thoughts with words, Vännen growled an affirmative before taking off into the misty sky. Carried on air, he beat his wings until sound itself submitted to him and allowed him to go at breakneck speeds, diving to the surface on occasion to pick up an unfortunate soul in his imposing talons, only to send him or her plummeting a half kilometer down to earth. It was here that he existed purely to kill and serve his mistress, his demonic urges suppressing what little humanity he had retained from whole eons ago.
Crossing the entire coastline of France in an hour and making his way towards the Holy Roman Empire’s border with Denmark’s in three hours, Vännen determined that it would be best to land at the Rhine River’s outlet to the sea. Though there was a small encampment of knights there, Vännen could deal with them effortlessly. Once his mistress came ashore, they could raze a few settlements along the river for fun as they made their way to Ostrheinsburg Castle, too. Ivy would be upset since there would likely be knights from all over the country pouring into the settlements if they felt something was amiss, which meant that Ivy wouldn’t be getting her daily “playtime” sessions.
Faster than light, Vännen’s recommendation reached Ivy back on the ship in the midst of the fog. She ordered the crewmen to ready the boat to set sail north.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ivy and the crew arrived to find a camp in flames, bodies of knights littering the ground, their blood becoming one with the sand. Ivy’s heart fluttered in excitement at the sight, and leapt in her chest when she heard Vännen roar. He held a lone knight, still alive, in his talons. With the slightest movement, the knight’s skull and brain caved inward under the immense strength of Vännen’s hand, an erotically pleasing display of blood and bone forming a mist of red and white.
Vännen turned to face his mistress, blood still dripping from the talons, and knelt before her in complete subservience. He was content to be a mere extension of Soul Edge’s—Ivy’s—destructive will. Should his mistress no longer deem him necessary, he was content to rejoin the blade for good.
Ivy walked over to him and took his bloody talon with both hands, and he felt her tongue run over his chitinous surface. She panted wildly as the blood of the innocent met her tongue and as the lost souls on the battlefield flew to her and became one with her body—her power continued to grow, and Vännen knew that a part of her would undergo a metamorphosis soon.
“Arise, my sweet,” Ivy said, seating herself on one of Vännen’s talons as he stood.
“It is a pity that we cannot raze every village we come across to the ground,” Ivy started, “but it hardly matters—they’ll serve my power soon enough.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ostrheinsburg Castle – Three Days Later
Ivy sat lazily on a throne in the castle’s foyer, locked in memory. When she was first here, the Azure Knight blessed her original Valentine blade with a sentience of its own. It lived, responded to her commands, defended her…perhaps it was safe to say that it prepared her for her true fate.
She looked at her left arm as thoughts of the Azure Knight lingered; no bronze and steel gauntlet adorned it anymore, but instead the result of her first metamorphosis. Covered in demonic chitin, digits topped with claws, it was clear that her power was growing more and more. The chitin creaked as she flexed her talons—they certainly gave her new ways to “play” with her “toys”.
It was amusing how alike she and the Azure Knight had become…
The door opened, revealing a giddy Tira with Sophitia’s daughter in tow. Ivy felt her essence within the girl—a mere kernel of her power, ready to sprout. But first, she must accept Ivy’s gift to her…
“I’m baaaaack!” Tira said gleefully. She met Ivy’s affectionate pat on the head with a moan, a whine that made one think of a dog.
“And you brought the guest of the hour,” Ivy said. “Tell me, young lady: what is your name?”
“P…Pyrrha,” the young, petite blond said.
“Welcome, Pyrrha Alexandra,” Ivy said. “I am Isabella Valentine—Soul Edge in the flesh.”
Something in Pyrrha resonated in the presence of this woman—dark memories of misfortune, betrayal and abandonment, and bitter emotions caused by such events, crawled out of the depths of her soul. She remembered sitting in a cold, wet cell, awaiting the headsman’s axe with trepidation—remembered her dear Jurgis’ mutilated body in his household and the accusations of murder that lead to her fate. And she remembered her life before Jurgis came into it—at the mercy of slave traders, having to do whatever they please no matter how degrading it was. She was passed from man to man like a gallery piece, not able to rest until they deemed her uninteresting.
Pyrrha’s life had been hell, and the woman that freed her—Tira—pulled her right out of it. She stayed with Pyrrha when others had abandoned her, stuck by her side and comforted her. She didn’t see her as a tool to be used…
Did she?
“Afraid, are we?” Ivy asked. “Don’t be—within these walls lies your family...”
Pyrrha had been so locked in thought that she didn’t even notice Ivy approach her.
“I have a family here?” Pyrrha asked.
Ivy caressed both sides of her face, and said, “Yes, if you choose to accept them as family. You could say that I’m the matriarch. Tell me something: have you had anyone there for you as you grew up?”
“My mother…she died when I was still young,” Pyrrha said. “I’ve been alone ever since.”
“I see,” Ivy said with what could be best described as sympathy. “Was there no one else for you?”
“Only Tira,” Pyrrha said, tears starting to stream down her face. “She was my only friend when others tried to kill me. And I killed…they gave me no choice!”
“Hush, child,” Ivy said. “You did nothing wrong—they sought to kill you, and you defended yourself. It’s sad that you had to learn the hard way that none of them will ever accept you. If they don’t want to kill you, they’ll just use you up before abandoning you…”
Pyrrha’s memories of her time with the slavers surfaced, and she believed the truth of Ivy’s statement—doubts surfaced about Jurgis’ sincerity. Did he wish to use her? Even if he did, he had long since been dead. The dead could never use her again…
“But I’m different,” Ivy whispered. “I offer you a family—to accept you as a daughter, but only if you wish it. I have but one question for you: what would you be willing to give if it meant never being alone again?”
“Anything!” Pyrrha said, embracing Ivy tightly. “There is nothing I won’t give up!”
“Then that is all I must know,” Ivy said as she hugged back. As Pyrrha surrendered herself utterly to Ivy, the dark seed that lie within her heart sprout, and she felt herself change.
Fire engulfed her very soul and mind, completely and utterly transforming every fiber of her being. Timidity fled before her newfound sense of kinship, leaving pleasure behind—the satisfaction in the knowledge that she would never be abandoned again. That knowledge cemented itself within her when she heard Ivy’s comforting presence within her mind, never leaving Pyrrha for even the slightest second.
And with this kinship, she shared Ivy’s hunger. And she wished to pay the world back a million-fold for all the suffering she endured. And now, she was willing to do it with a smile on her face.
“Souls…” Pyrrha’s voice doubled over itself as her corrupted form—from her new demonic arm to her wicked eyes—was revealed. “If I bring you souls, you will never abandon me.”
“I am your mother now,” Ivy said in her ear. “We are of one blood—one family, for eternity.”
Pyrrha locked eyes with Ivy, the power in both their bodies resonating with each other—Pyrrha felt no fear or misery, only happiness.
“Mother,” Pyrrha said, hugging Ivy once more. “I love you so much…”
“Welcome home…my daughter…”
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