The Song of Roland Ch. 16

They trudged forward for some time, weaving between the thin breaks in the treeline as the wind blew gaily through the creaking black boughs above. Had Kelsea still been a mere mortal she'd have felt a nip in the air and a chill up her spine. As it was she could only watch as Carl's body let loose the occasional shiver, his body convulsing for an instant before continuing on its intended trajectory. She regarded him as his shoulderblades bent and turned, straining under the weight of carrying the heavier man. His footsteps were careful and assured, his lithe body an ideal application of proficiency and even balance. Kelsea's thirst grew still further, her eyes trained to the way Carl physically exerted himself.

Partway through the exhaustive journey, Carl's head snapped up, staring off to his left. Kelsea watched as his body tensed. "Wait." He said, moving to lower the litter he carried. "Stop for a second."

"No." Kelsea insisted, trying to keep walking forward, "We've got to get him to shelter-"

"There's something out there!" He hissed, the worried tone in his voice forcing Kelsea to unhappily lower Roland to the ground. They looked around, their bodies tensed as Carl searched back and forth through the hanging trunks of trees like gazing through a packed crowd walking down a streetline. A silence fell upon the world, the two straining their ears as they listened for the sound of the phantom Carl claimed he'd seen. The air was low, the sound of nature a muted facet as the snowfall around seemed to freeze even the wildlife's normal chittering. Kelsea looked around across the icy ground, her eyes scanning for a something she was half-convinced was just a figment of Carls imagination.

The Succubus turned her head to the right, wondering to herself how much further it was to the cave, hoping that-

She stopped. There was something moving amongst the trees. She could not make it out properly, but she saw the beast it rode: a tall, graceful creature, much like a horse but otherworldly in its steps. It weaved between the boughs in a serpentine, almost ghostlike manner. Each thick tree it passed seemed to make its form shift and disintegrate, moving between the openings in the pitted bark trunks with a speed that did not seem possible. She could not spot its head, but its hooves were large and cloven, its fur a pale, moonlight white. It was completely, utterly quiet. No sound crossed the space between them, though she could see it from less than a hundred yards away. Kelsea let out a shout, her arm raising to point at the thing, but as soon as she did it was as if it had simply faded away.

"I saw it!" She said, her arm pointing. "Over there. It was..." Her voice dropped. It had felt like almost a phantom: this wisp of something that had swept past them. She felt unnerved, seeing it was gone, knowing the direction it had been going, yet seeing nothing of the large thing that moved. How had it been so quiet?

"These woods could well be haunted." Carl murmured, seeming equally perturbed by the Demon's vision. "...You're right. Let's get going. I don't want to see whatever that was again." With some trepidation, the two hefted the gurney up again, moving with hastened impetus through the hanging, whistling trees. The howling winds of the world seemed to close in on them, the sky hanging like a leering face as they moved with added urgency through the undergrowth.

At last they came to a high rock outcropping, a hollow hill as tall as the treetops all around, like a mound of earth covered in hoarfrost and slick, half-dead grass. Still more pine trees ascended its slope, like planted flags in the ground, dropping their green bounty onto the hillside, obscuring its presence. The gaping mouth of the cave stood nearly fifteen feet tall, opening into darkness. Had the Harpy not seen it from the air, Kelsea would never have found this place, despite being so close to where they'd come from on the High Road. The forest hid it well. With some trepidation, they carried Roland inside.

It stank; the reeking odor of putrid flesh and stale blood hung heavily in the shadowed, circular cave. Small piles of assorted... something lay in many corners of the nested area, and Kelsea had to refrain from inhaling through her nose to keep from feeling sick. It reminded her in a way of the fetid pit that Grevich and his band of infernal fiends had kept her in, alongside the other lost and damned that the demons had 'acquired' over the course of her grim captivity. At least in here there were fewer chains; the sounds of skittering claws and taunting laughter were absent, the crawling shadows neither artificially made, nor quite so deep. There was also far less background noise: the echoes of their footsteps reverberated like booming thunderclaps as they entered the central chamber. A large, depressed area near the middle of the complex indicated where the grotesque beast had once slumbered. Seeing little of the filth endemic near the edges of the wall, they laid Roland down there and began to set up camp.

"Charming spot." Carl said, dropping his pack to the floor. "Love the decorum: the Hautviech shit in the corner's a nice touch."

"Be quiet." She said, her thoughts still on that pale, silent thing that they'd seen on the journey here. "Get a campfire going, we're only going to be here for the night." Kelsea added, unrolling her bedroll before delicately pulling Roland onto it. He splayed out across the padding, his arms boneless as she moved him with some difficulty. Glancing up, she saw someone in their makeshift company was missing. "Where'd the Harpy go?"

Carl looked up at her, a self-satisfied smile on his face. He put a finger to his lips, reminding the Succubus of her previous command. The blustering bowman left the cave to gather sticks for the fire, whistling with a kind of buoyant apathy that made Kelsea's cheeks redden; whether it was from anger or arousal, she couldn't tell anymore. She looked around, noting the way the room curved like the inside of a dome. The hill they were in was all but hollow, the ceiling above hanging like an architectural wonder of nature.

Kelsea checked to make sure that Roland was warm and comfortable in the stuffy room before following Carl outside. Whatever presence had been there before, it seemed absent now. They found the Harpy near the treeline, having landed just outside the perimeter, standing with shaking legs before the entrance of the cave. Her yellow eyes were wide as she continuously glanced in the direction of the Hautviech's hollow. She let out an apologetic titter that rose into a chattering cry as Kelsea approached, her wings folding back as she recoiled in fear. The Succubus felt a momentary confusion arise as she looked at her. Why was she...

Realization dawned alongside the core of Kelsea's guilt. Even with all that had happened, all that Roland had said to her, it was still so easy to forget her own power, the effect she had upon those she touched. The Succubus extended her hands, open-palmed to the Harpy. "It's okay..." Kelsea said, stepping forward. Carl continued to ignore them both, collecting stray scraps of wood for the fire. The bird woman, seeming to be stymied by her mistress' appeal, hesitantly reached out and took Kelsea's reaching hands with her larger ones. Her fingers squeezed tight against her purple skin.

"It's okay, little one." Kelsea said. "You don't have to go in there. Will you be all right finding someplace safe to stay for the night? We can't risk moving Roland." The Harpy chirped, bobbing her head back and forth upon her neck in an avian nod, her sky-blue head plumage shifting along her scalp line, revealing her open expression. Kelsea smiled and kissed her again. The Harpy's wings folded around them like an egg, and for a moment the Succubus allowed herself to indulge: nibbling on the larger woman's lower lip before leaning in to passionately kiss her. The two women traded touches: the Harpy's hands reaching down to fondle Kelsea's breast through her clothing, the Succubus's fingers curling tight against the back of the bird woman's meaty thigh. With immense reluctance Kelsea pulled back again, her physical senses screaming at her to continue the caress. "G-good. See if you can scout around, perhaps find us something to eat. Let... hah... l-let me know if you see anything." The Harpy nodded, kissing Kelsea's nose tip gently with her lips before letting out another blissful warble. Kelsea patted the woman's bum, her fingers trailing near the edgeline of her rear. "Go."

A gust of generated wind blew back Kelsea's hair from her head as the Harpy took off, sailing up into the air before disappearing behind the treeline. Kelsea felt like she'd been running for an hour, her face burning as she panted. Carl chuckled to himself. "You seem tense." He remarked to her, standing a ways away. He bent down to fish another twig out onto the growing pile in his arms. She shot him a look, her scowl more acute than she had planned it to be. Carl continued. "You're not used to the craving, are you? Poor Roland's been doing an admirable job, keeping you fed."

"Stop talking about him." She said, her voice low as she struggled to bring her raging sex drive back in line. The sound of his name made her picture the mental image of a healthy and whole Roland: naked, pressing up against her, his large body overtopping her as he mashed his hips against her own-

"So who should we talk about, Succubus?" Carl said, turning to her. "You? Me? Bluebird? Seems like no matter who you're talking to all you want to do is either kill them or fuck them. Wonder why that could be."

"Gods damn you, shut up!" Kelsea said, her body shaking from the need that wormed within her.

"Why?" He said, dropping the pile of branches in his slender hands like they were nothing to him. They fell into a heap at his feet. "What more could you possibly do to me, at this point? You've won: I'm stuck here, I've got nowhere to go and no one else to turn to. Even if you let me go, there's no way to simply 'cure' myself of you. All you've got left is to take my wits from me for good, and truly I wonder if that isn't a blessing."

Kelsea's fists were clenched. Her whole body shuddered as she felt the ever increasing haze of sexual want grow within her. It was like starving, like dying of thirst, but the only thing to quench it was to fornicate. Even the conversation itself sounded in her ears like the playful beginnings of a sexual encounter. She struggled to keep her eyes level and focused; a voice deep within kept wanting to simply take what was hers by force.

Carl shook his head. "Do you feel that desire inside of you? The one that made you smash me into the ground earlier? The one that made me into a pawn of your every whim for the last few weeks? That's you. That's the Succubus you keep trying - for some ungodly reason - to make believe doesn't exist. Every time you pantomime these conversations, you act like we're on some sort of equal footing, like you and I are having a discussion, or a simple disagreement. We're not. I just keep waiting for you to finally embrace it."

"I know what I am." Kelsea said, her voice straining as she did everything in her power to resist the lascivious wishes coming like hot flashes to her psyche. That low voice was all but yelling at her now, drowning out her rational thoughts: Take him! Fuck him! Feed! Like an endless loop, a twisting coil of carnality. Kelsea just wanted it to stop; she just wanted it all to go away. "You..." She trailed off, her face a red mess, "Y-you can blame me for what's happened. Roland did the same: I've ruined everything for him, too."

"Roland did plenty enough 'ruining' on his own." Carl said, his face impassive as he watched her. He let out another amused laugh. "Gods, look at us: bickering over nothing. I already know what you want, eh? A little of my throbbing cock? It's yours, you don't even have to ask for it. I'm as hooked as a Narfyn smoker in a drug den."

Kelsea let out an angry shout, smashing her hand against her thigh as she squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn't take it any more. "Here." She snarled, more to herself than to him, "Do it! Use me!" She unbuckled her belt, shoving down her pants at the back, revealing her purple rear as she turned around to face a nearby tree. Kelsea leaned forward, listening to the voice which yelled at her unabated from within. She didn't even bother to remove any of the rest of her clothing, merely exposing her soaking nethers as she bent over, her pants around the top of her thighs as her tail twitched and jolted spastically. She assumed the position, her hand reaching down to spread her labia for him, revealing her inner folds. "Fuck me! Punish me for what I've done! I don't..." She trailed off. I don't care. She neglected to add. If only she could get the voice to stop.

Carl said nothing, merely stepping forward and unbuckling his own. Kelsea heard the telltale signs of him undressing, her mind alighting at the prospect of a male getting nude behind her. The subconscious earnestness of her thoughts made her want to choke. Her body acted of its own accord, leaning still further as she pumped her hips up, displaying herself like a piece of meat to be used and discarded at whim. She felt worthless in that moment; she was, after all, just a Succubus.

Carl stepped up behind her, his body heat coming in dangerous closeness to Kelsea's own. She growled and leaned back, her bare skin touching the erection she knew he had waiting for her. Carl's hand reached down and smacked her ass from the side, hard enough to jolt her forward. She grinded against him, twerking her hips as she dragged her femininity across his masculine rod, coating him in her juices. "Use me." Kelsea said, reaching back and grabbing his hand, placing it at the curve of her hipbone, "Abuse me. Do whatever you want."

Carl grunted, his other hand clefting the opposing side of her rear, leaving a stinging, bracing purple mark. Kelsea licked her lips and moaned, feeling the pain like it was an erotic thrust against her body. Carl smacked the palm of his hand upon her lower back, and she arched her spine like he had cum inside of her. She let out a squeal and squirted on his sex.

"It's only abuse if you don't like it, Succubus." Carl said, letting out a low chuckle. He leaned forward, pressing her form towards the tree as he reached behind her head, gripping her by the scruff of her hair. Kelsea's neck was pulled backwards in a rush, her head tilting skywards as she felt the sharp pain of his fingers tugging harshly at her silky black follicles.

"Ahn!" She said, seeing Carl's face appear above her as he draped himself atop her body. "Pull harder."

"No." He said in response. "Just this once, you don't get what you want."

Kelsea sniggered a feverish melody at his words. "I n-never got what I wanted, Carl." He continued to grind against her, his thickness a frustrating non-entry into her insides. "S-say my name."

"Succubus." He replied, "Demon. Devil. Monster." She shook her head, his rough treatment and misuse of her only heightening her sensation.

"Exactly." She said, at last caving in to his wishes. She went limp in his grasp, allowing him to do as he pleased, only ensuring her legs were stable and spread, to hold their standing position. Carl, sensing her compliance, finally deigned to drop his hips. He aligned his erection with her gleaming vulva, the sense of pointlessness inundating Kelsea as she felt that penultimate penetration work its way like a thwarted promise into her body. She groaned, gripping the tree with her hands as she felt a man who wasn't Roland make use of her like she was just a tool. It was a frighteningly ordinary experience for her.

Carl thrust against her, and Kelsea gasped. She felt him grow in her, like a tightness spreading through her core. There was a warm, blooming sensation, a feeling of physical elation rising up from within that did not match the mental melancholy that threatened to drown her conscious thoughts. As she felt him pull back she could sense herself clenching around him, her internal muscles working independent of her mind as they struggled mightily to keep the sexual organ within her for as long as possible. She felt as though she could measure his length and girth simply through the flesh of her birth canal, the veins of his prick rippling across the sensitive parts of her internal being.

He thrust again, and Kelsea moaned. The bloom spread through her loins, up into her stomach, along the trailing lines of her spinal vertebrae, causing her to shiver and shake as he began to repeat the process. It was cold, instinctive rutting that fulfilled her yearning want but did nothing to sate her sense of self. Kelsea the Succubus mewled and twisted in her captor's grasp, leaning back hard against him as she tried to give Carl still more space to jam his meat into her own. Kelsea the person closed her eyes, feeling the penile incursion like just another encroachment on her waning humanity.

Carl pulled at her hair again, and Kelsea let out a yip of surprise, the pain bracing her as she clung for dear life against the trunk of the tree. The mercenary's thrusts were sharp, hard slaps that reverberated up along the length of her body, jamming her tight against the tree as he worked himself into a sexual frenzy. Soon her chest was pressed to the tree, her body arching upwards as he drove onwards into her with ruthless abandon. The blooming sensation continued, on and on and over and over as he thrust and pushed and jammed and grinded against her like an animal sating its needs. She let him, thinking of Roland and wishing she'd stayed below on the High Road when the Briar Dogs came, just another casualty of the day's events.

She could feel him, she could feel every single inch of him. Her frustration was like a kindred spirit to his own, reverberating within her with every pounding thrust, every passionless grope and press that tightened her walls and bunched his thickness within her mound. Carl slapped her across the face from behind, the right side of her cheek burning as she yelped and turned the other way, feeling the hard rush of blood to her head as her breath became unsteady and hoarse. Not content to merely mate so manically, Carl took her head in hand, grasping her by the roots of her hair and shoving her cheek against the treeline. Kelsea cried out as she felt the intense friction of the bark against her skin, her teeth biting at her lower lip as she suffered through more of the orgiastic torment. She now stood nearly parallel to the tree against which she was so unceremoniously pushed against.

"You like that, little devil?" Carl said, his voice heavy and thick with arousal as his waist melded to her rear, each thrust coming in keen, colluding crimps against her body as Kelsea cried out. Her tail wrapped around his waist, their voices coming out in a chorus of grunts and wails as she clenched her fingers and tried to ignore the voice that continued to bawl demands in her head. Take him! Break him! Show him you're in control! Kelsea disregarded the sentiment, hugging the tree as she howled at the sense of being seized sexually.

She felt him begin to thicken within her, his thrusts becoming a cavalcade of vulgar pounding as Carl pulled back almost fully from her quivering snatch before diving forward in a rush. There was no pleasure to be had from this sort of intercourse; it was a scurrilous sensation of pure, malicious mating, useful only for the joy to be had from dominating another. How strange it felt then, for the Succubus to wilfully submit herself to another's will, one whom she knew she could rule in an instant if she so chose to make him. She didn't make him.