Lecherous

Amorous

Bellroc held her like a baby as they ascended the steps to their bed ; bedstead of cherry wood inlaid with gold , a board at one end and a raised portion at the other,its contents obscured by rich hangings - burgundy and Boysenberry purple in color,made of some thick and durable medieval material,satiny black ornately patterning them . 
She felt terror paralyzing her limbs, and vain anger clawing at her chest from the inside.
The pyromancer flung her down upon a huge feather mattress ,atop some animal pelts . Her head hit a wall of giant pillows .
" You shouldn't have disobeyed me ,Velgur," purrs the demigod as they climb on board and loom over her,fangs lustfully bared.
She sees that they are not sightless though they are blind;they have eyes on their shoulders ,fixed to red wooden pauldrons. Bones at,and golden rings around,their neck , a Dreysian chest piece , a cape of some extinct giant raven's feathers . Red beads around their left wrist,a Dreysian symbol upon their blindfold. Perhaps she'd find all this beautiful,in a different situation.
Velgur. It's a word from the Dreysi's antediluvian language,one so old that by comparison Merlin is young,and she's a newborn.
She gazes at her wand in Bellroc's hands . It's immediately snapped in two,the pieces tossed out of sight . They reach for her face, tenderly,or almost tenderly . Fingers caress her cheeks, shoulder - eyeballs bore into her own.
Tears well up in her eyes,a sob escapes her.
Velgur...a word remembered only by some majick scholars,the earliest known name for a carmine bee - eater . A pretty little bird, its plumage exotic pink and blue , with a bright sweet voice.
She understands this pet name's meaning,and loathes it.
"Enough of that," growls the pyromancer in a dual tone.
"Or I'll give you something to cry about."
So she swallows the hot,spiky lump in her throat ,and blinks back her tears .
They pull her close, leaning in,full soft lips meeting hers.
She freezes,too afraid to resist.
Hands roam, diving under her clothes to feel her breasts ,hips, torso, and shoulders .
It's when the right hand breaches her pants,that the urge to fight is reawakened . Zoe shoves hard at Bellroc, pushing them back,and scrambles to escape the bed.
But powerful arms ensnare her, easily yanking her back .
She's pinned down ,and fire glows upon one palm. It eerily illuminates Bellroc's agender face. It slithers down her arm, curling round her forearm, carefully controlled by the pyromancer's raised hand .
The burn equals accidentally touching an oven pan, it's kept from being worse, but it is nonetheless agony as it spreads and bites,she screams.
The ball of flame springs to her shirt, eating a huge hole into it .
Then it is gone,dematerialized.
She's crying again,and can't help it. Her pitiful, snotty whimpers are ignored.
They shove their hand down there once more. Nails catch painfully on pubic hair,then,the fingers find their prize.
The demigod explores , rubbing and fingering at the flesh, watching her face. She can't tell what for... until,they massage a particularly sensitive area.
The mage gasps and squeaks,eyes bulging , body flinching away reactively.There's no getting away, however,and the violation continues.
Pleasure,warm and carnal and addictive, shameful and unwanted, is evoked by every touch of that special spot .
It builds,and builds,and at last,a warm glow fills her,her brain floats up on a cloud . The pleasure is keen as those fingers keep rubbing,like a drug.
It fades quickly once shame washes over her; how could she have enjoyed any of this?!
Bellroc is whispering in the Dreysi's archaic tongue ( predating Latin or its own tongue of origin.)

"Fallgur faya,lagg-faya,egmungera
iggad minu ..."
Their hand withdraws, only to tug her pants and underwear down to her ankles ,and pull them off of her altogether. She gasps, trembles,tries not to panic and start sobbing. That would anger them ,and she now deeply feared their wrath.
They set the clothing alight, adding the remnants of her shirt to the pile, along with her bracelets. Hungrily they stare at the flames, teeth bared in a lion's grimace. Her toes are barely safe from the tiny golden fire,she pulls her feet up close only for them to be grabbed and forced back as they were. Bellroc's hands grip her ankles in a terrible vice. The hedge witch lies motionless and supine,eyes glued helplessly to the creeping fire- fortunately, it's unmade before it can burn her feet. The demigod sits up ,legs beneath and knees before them, removing the earrings, rings,bones , bracelet,and  eyeball-pauldrons . The eyes are placed far enough away not to be a hindrance, but close enough for a good view of what's about to happen.
Her tears have unfathomably dried up,but her throat is aching.
"Kynokka stel ," they breathe,and then, she's picked up and put down in their lap ,her head is pulled close so they can kiss her .
As they keep on kissing,they thoroughly explore her chest with both -grasping, fondling, squeezing - hands .
They finally detach their lips from hers , and stare at her for a second. Their throat emits animalistic noises of arousal through their leonine grimace.
Bellroc thoughtlessly presses their hard wooden armor flush  with her own soft , fragile body, leans in close to her neck,and bites down with a masculine - feminine growl.
Vampiric fangs pierce yielding human flesh ,a deep ache stabs into her neck. The mage cries out as a lost lamb for its mother.
And it only escalates from there.