Dark Lord in Chains 78

“I … I have lost,” Isolde murmured. 

I was fascinated by her tone as she muttered those four words — one redundant. It carried a delicious mixture of anger and shock, which I expected. 

What I didn’t expect was to catch a beautiful hint of fascination, one that almost felt like she had a rare phoenix sighting … well, I would have said that, but considering that there was already a phoenix upstairs, I had to admit that the saying lost its impact. 

Yet, that didn’t change the incredible nature of her fascination, simple in nature as she looked at me. 

As I looked at her sharp eyes gleaming in a different light, I didn’t need to rely on her mind magic. She had been bested in direct combat again, but that wasn’t the only reason for her fascination. 

I was here, offering her freedom, from the same prison that Lancelot, the only person she had trusted, had put her into, destroying the same loyalty that I was so afraid of challenging. 

Emma had been weak, the combination of direct power, fear of punishment, and the opportunity to escape from her own mistakes had been enough to conquer her. 

Aria had been naive and idealistic in a way that was underlined by her lack of confidence, making it extremely easy to manipulate her. Though, while those same qualities made me fall for her, it hardly changed the initial difficulty of duping her. 

Even Sapphire, despite all her political acumen, power, and worldly experience, had been easy to conquer. For her, it was her responsibilities, to try to manage an Empire with enough internal enemies to make it shaky before adding two mysterious external enemies that were stronger than the Empire… She was desperate for qualified help, even if that help came from a Dark Lord.

Isolde was different. She was simple, but not stupid, and her loyalty worked more directly. Oh, I had managed to use some insidious bargain to make her compromise some of her personal values, but, eroding those completely would have taken a long time. 

And more importantly, completing it would make Isolde lose the exact qualities that made her valuable. It would have turned her into another Emma, weak and easy to manipulate, but without other qualities that still made Emma valuable. 

Like stealing a beautiful dagger from an enemy by breaking it in half. It was better than letting it stay under enemy possession, but it was hardly the most efficient solution. 

Yet, Lancelot, that self-serving, smug moron, solved the hardest challenge of my mission by betraying Isolde and Empire at the same time, leaving Isolde’s loyalty untethered. The same loyalty that would have taken days and weeks to break irrevocably, ruining it in the process, came free for anyone that could catch her while her mind was in free fall. 

Extremely convenient for a Dark Lord who had just allied himself with the Empire, to fight against the same enemies that Lancelot started to support. 

“Yes, you have lost,” I whispered after a lengthy pause, allowing her to process that even as I leaned against her body, her heartbeat clear against my chest. “What is your decision?” 

A heartbeat that was getting faster and faster despite standing still. 

“Is there a decision?” Isolde answered sharply. “I have lost the bet, and that’s it. My word is final, no matter the consequences.” 

It was an honorable statement, but I had reasons to believe that the intent behind it wasn’t as honorable. She tried to keep her voice steady, but that wasn’t enough to hide the desperation from her tone. 

She was afraid. 

And I had an interesting suspicion about the source of her fear. “Still, maybe that was unfair, asking your loyalty by combat. Maybe I should just let you free and you can go back to your Queen—“ I said, only to be interrupted by a hopeless gasp. 

“No!” 

“No?” I asked, amused by the loudness of her cry — and glad that I had ensured our voices wouldn’t reach upstairs. “What do you mean, no?” 

“I … I mean, I lost the bet, and I … I have to listen to your orders, all of them!” she stammered desperately, a longing in her tone, showing that she was desperate to find a new target for her loyalty. 

How fascinating, I thought even as I tightened my grip around her arms, while she used the opportunity to push her body against mine, leaving no doubt about what she implied by the last bit of her tone. 

If I was a less experienced man, I would have assumed that it was just her desire to find someone to be loyal to that was driving her after the shock of Lancelot’s betrayal, pushing her enough to sacrifice her chastity for that objective. 

Yet, I was far too familiar with the matters of flesh to miss the carnal desperation in the movement of her hips, shouting her arousal. 

A feeling of arousal that wasn’t there before we started, showing that she had been triggered by fighting. Or more accurately, considering that she didn’t show any such reaction when we battled back in my cell and I faked losing, her arousal was triggered by losing… 

Just another amazing opportunity that idiot Lancelot squandered until I could come to her rescue. 

“Really,”  I said with a smirk that slowly widened, which only worked to alight matching arousal in her eyes. “Let’s test your commitment to your loyalty, then, you weakling,” I added, the last word exploding like a whip, making her tremble. 

Before the latest realization, I would have never dared to call Isolde weakling, afraid that it would trigger a reaction. Yet, at the moment, I wasn’t surprised by her gaze dipping down demurely. “Yes, sir,” she whispered, her voice beautifully vulnerable. 

“Good,” I whispered, caressing her cheek with surprising gentleness, followed by an explosive shout. “On your knees, now!” 

She followed that with military precision, her knees hitting the floor hard enough to make a sharp sound. Yet, any pain that she might have been feeling didn’t prevent her from following my next order. “Pull my pants down, and open your mouth,” I ordered. 

She was quick to follow the order, once again giving my shaft the freedom it craved. She managed to exude an aura of desperate obedience, like a prisoner that was trying to save herself from prison, but that same impression was destroyed by her gaze locked on my shaft, fascinated. 

Soon, her lips joined that betrayal. “So … so big,” she murmured. 

It took a lot to hold back my chuckle, as I was by no way surprised by her fascination. It fit her personality too much. 

“Let’s see how well you can handle it, then,” I ordered. “Open your mouth.” 

Once again, Isolde’s obedience was instant. No bargaining, no asking for guarantees, no lingering. Her lips opened, allowing me to slide inside her. 

And I did that mercilessly. I paused for a fraction of a second, and that was only to grab her head to make sure she wouldn’t hit her head against the stone wall, before I impaled her mouth in one merciless push, immediately invading her throat. 

The pain of such an invasion would have resulted in a desperate cry in anyone else, but for Isolde, it only earned a grunt. A grunt that implied a lot of pain, but also pleasure, showing the submissive extent of her martial obedience. 

It was not my habit to think of other men while such a spectacular moment, but I decided that Lancelot’s idiocy was special enough to earn that right, once again leaving another wondrously beautiful woman completely neglected even after accidentally seducing them. 

Well, his loss, my glorious gain. 

Then, after paying that small tribute, I turned my focus on Isolde, who was showing an incredible ability to swallow my shaft without the slightest complaint. And, even more incredible, she managed to keep her eyes open, her gaze looking up, each push destroying the fake emotionless obedience she tried to reflect, only to be replaced by the signs of deep arousal, each push making that emotion clearer. 

And, never one to miss such an opportunity, I started to cast a spell on her body. One that was extremely complicated to cast, especially considering the benefits. Also, it was an extremely intrusive spell to cast. Since, by its nature it was similar to a ward, the Tether helped me to cast it, but even then, it was measured in minutes and not seconds. 

It was a spell that teachers used on their students, allowing the teacher to monitor the movement of the pupil easier. Under normal circumstances, it would have been useless for anyone else, because the only benefit was to give a slight advantage in melee combat against the target.

Yet with such direct access, and such a long time to cast a spell, there were much easier and deadlier spells to cast against someone due to their nature, easily noticed while casting. Luckily, Isolde had the magical sensitivity of common rock, allowing me to cast that spell. 

And the fact that she had more important things to focus on, such as the impediment in her throat, pushing her toward the land of unconsciousness. 

I chose to cast that spell for one important reason. Considering just how aroused she got after losing her spar, I had a feeling that she would certainly request more spars to attain that same emotion, and rejecting those offers would damage her loyalty. 

By casting that spell on her, it would give me instant feedback on her movements, allowing me to counter her attacks before she could even launch them, making sure she wouldn’t be able to defeat me. 

Though, as an added benefit, it also gave me a real-time observation of her body as I impaled her throat mercilessly, revealing just how close she was to collapsing with my shaft preventing her from breathing. 

To her credit, she made no move to make me stop, obediently accepting my invasion. 

I pulled back for a moment to allow her to take a breath, but it wasn’t because I had a hint of mercy on her. She seemed more than willing to let that continue until she fell unconscious due to choking, but I didn’t want that. 

Not when we were just starting…