Kids, the thesaurus is your friend. IS. YOUR. FRIEND.

And because requests and people apparently like this as my style, here, a full one shot of my story

Spell… bound

It echoed.

The dripping water echoed through the halls.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

The hard cold stone it landed on was slowly being worn away. Time had degreed that its surface would become smooth and rounded by the constant drip. The drip seemed to fill the air. The air was thick with water, so thick is was a soup like consistency. The long stone corridors wheezed as a wall of air expanded down a corridor making water droplets cover everything. A couple of minutes later, it wheezed again. The wall of humid, thick, head pounding atmosphere now moved in the opposite direction, the streams of water down the walls changed their angular direction downwards as the air forcibly pushed them into one another, creating even larger water droplets. The entire corridor, was breathing. The giant building structure moved in tandem.

The black stone shone in the candle light. Little circles of light softly pushed back the darkness, their light spilling outwards and casting long shadows throughout the rooms. The little droplets in the darkness glimmered. They twinkled gently, turning the pitch black ends of the corridors into starry nights. Magic filled the thick air. Moss glowed, droplets shimmered, candles sparked and flickered, chains rattled unsettlingly.

Chains. Thick, iron, heavy. Bolted into the wall they had rusted long ago. But strong they still were. Their original black paint had flaked away, leaving behind the dark brown rust that too, slowly flaked away under the pressure of time. It had wasted away quicker than the stone it was bolted into. The stone which water slid, ever so slowly, down. It had taken an age for one droplet to run from the top to the bottom. Heavier it felt in the room, yes. But the slower everything moved… and gravity was no exception. Slower too, was the breathing. The breathing of the cell's only inhabitant. The water rolled down the walls. And onto a new material.

It came onto the chain first, as a lot had done before it. And it continued slowly downwards over each individual iron link. It seeped against the metal, picking up impurities and reacting ever so slowly with the unguarded iron. By the time it was on its 4th iron link, the droplet was brown, a murky brown. And it descended ever downwards, to the cuffs. All previous droplets had slid down the cuffs, all the way to the bottom where they gathered, and gathered, and gathered. Until they were big enough so that gravity could take a hold over the magnetic and suction forces and pull it off the cuffs and into the void of air. No material, so the droplet spun on itself, turning into a perfect ball. A perfect, brown, drop of water, flying, no, falling, through the air. Slow was its descent, until it hit the ground, the hard stone flagstones with an almighty crash.

That was heard, by no one.

It did not echo.

It was merely a drip.

In the darkness.

But this droplet, did not drop. Upon reaching the cuffs it slid down, and hit nail. A looked after nail. So just a normal nail then, A human one. It slid over the smooth surface that was not here often. It slid downwards, hitting the rough bank of the shore of skin. The droplet rolled slowly down off the beach to the nail and over the bumpy ground of the finger. Tiny follicles of hair stood in brave resistance to the droplet whose size blocked out the sky as it rolled over them, encompassing them, then passing by them. But then it reached a hill. There was a gap between the mountains that were the knuckles and slipped through it, swirling onto the giant plane of land. Small follicles dotted around the back of the hand as the droplet surged forth. Suddenly the land had become steep. It was sliding, rising, streaming down the hand until all of a sudden. There was no more land.

It hung, speeding down towards the ground as it spun, rippled and swelled in rage that its journey would end so soon. That it would land with a gigantic-

Tic.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

If not for the fact the shiny black surface of the material they were made of was reflect the candlelight, the heels would've been practically invisible in the minimal lighting that was actually there. The feet that filled them were covered by a thin black material. The stocking. It ran over the foot, the angular, sweeping foot, and carried on upwards past then ankle. The long smooth leg continued upwards with the stocking coming to a stop just before the knee. But thick, rich skin and flesh continued upwards creating a succulent thigh. A black and purple skirt graced the rest of the thigh though, hiding what could be more underneath it. The skirt danced around the thighs, covering all private areas for now, but the possibility of thick and creamy flesh still hung, almost like a question.

This bottom half moved. It moved with a purpose, the heels were carefully place, the hips swung as each leg was slowly placed in front of the other, the skirt gently billowing back and forth helping this seductive strut. Eventually, the legs stopped in front of the man.

On his knees, hands chained up against the wall in those irritating, irrational itchy iron cuffs. His skin was sallow and paling. The likelihood he'd been there 3 days now without and food or water, but to him it felt more like weeks as there was no night, no day, just a constant near darkness. And that endless drip. And that endless drip. And that endless drip. He wasn't a muscular man by any means and his body was shredding away at itself. His mind already questioned who he was, the stress had already drained his strength, the fear had already turned him numb. But the hunger within him had grown. He was there, right now, struggling weakly against the chains. A wild light had entered his eyes as he grasped at anything for him to engorge, to consume, to survive. And all he saw, were those two legs.

The chains were too strong though. They wouldn't budge against his wild exertion.

But they did move.

He grasped onto this and struggled more, wild craving to consume, to take, to dominate, to exhaust filled his mind as the iron bolt that held the cuffs in place slowly slid out of the wall. He got off his knees and struggled towards the only other thing, objective, life that he could see, he had ever seen. But the iron bolt hung there. In mid-air. His hands were still chained to it and they were shoved above his head. Flinging wildly he looked up to watch the levitating bolt that held him back from his goals, from consuming, from taking what is rightfully his! But it started going up. And slowly it began to lift him as his arms would stretch no more, his feet desperately trying to keep in contact with the floor. He breathed heavily as he hung suspended by the chains, looking for the face of the person in front of him in vain.

The entire world went black.

Frederic awoke. To relative comfort it must be said. He lay on a lush satin bed. Its sheets were a light purple which he could easily see by the bright light that lit the room. A chandelier dangled above him on black iron chains. He jerked his head up, so he wasn't in the dungeon anymore. But was, at least, somewhere connected to it. The walls were still a black stone, the bed constantly starkly against the continuous black and grey. Candle bracers fill the room though. The room itself was circular, a perfect circle he noted as the walls curved around. Even the door curved slightly with the angles of the wall as he swung his head around. Windows. Light streamed in through the windows and only blue sky could be seen. A perfect, royal blue sky, so somewhere up high maybe? He rolled towards the edge of the bed and would've swung his legs over the edge of the bed. But chains rattled and he noticed for the first time since waking up, his arms were above his head. He growled. Again this had happened, he needed a god damn way out of here and he was going to get it. He turned the other way to try and struggle out. But stopped.

He came within a couple of inches of the face of his supposed captor.

She, of course it was a she those thighs didn't exactly lie to him, was watching him, closely. She looked in many ways quite young, like she had barely just gotten out of her teens, though the hovering symbol behind her meant she was one of the Ionian high order… but it was painted black. In fact her entire outfit screamed black with deep purple trimmings. Fashion had decided that the sides of her waist didn't actually need to be covered up and her cleavage he noticed was quite…. Amplified. Clearly she didn't care about showing skin or decency, but even him in this situation found himself smirking at the fact she seemed to have a modest chest and was trying to amplify it.

Her expression though was playful. Well, it would be, she was in control and he doubted he'd be able to get out of this that easy. He gulped, and wondered if he'd get out of this at all. He remembered, the days in the dungeon, the wild beast he'd become as the hunger of desperation gnawed again at his mind. Upon realisation his breathing went up a notch as he once again stared at his captor. He black cascading hair, her high heels, her… purple eyes…. Sweat formed on his brow as for all his smirking and teasing, he realised what situation he was in.

'And your name is?' the woman asked sweetly. Or at least tried to, her voice was several times deeper than it should've been.

'Actually, forget it. I don't want to know,' She clapped her clothed hands together and the chains magically disappeared. Freedom. He scrambled to sit up, panting as events went out of his control and expectations.

The woman stood up and walked away from the bed. He watched her carefully, watching her back as he slowly slipped out of bed and walked towards a window. His legs collapsed on him, weakened by the lack of movement and food. He tried to fall silently as he could, the hard stone floor hitting against his knees. It scraped and scratched at he dragged himself towards the window to look out into the clear…

Sky. Sky, sky, sky and only sky. A lovely clear blue, cirrus clouds were happily passing by the tower as the sun shone down upon them and the tower. So high up they were he could not even see the ground as he stuck his head as far out as he dared. 'We're floating, above the ground, if you hadn't guessed,' Her voice made him tremble so much his legs shook, though not from the lack of energy. Fear started to permeate his entire body as he looked to the sides of the window.

A gigantic black castle, floating so far above the ground it was impossible to see. Even though it was stark black, so black it didn't reflect light but seemed to absorb it like a mysterious black hole. His gaze was draw to the spires of the other towers, each as tall as the one he was currently in. They looked like black fingers, jutting out from the earth that the castle stood on. He felt his arms lose their strength as gravity, both from the situation and literally, took control causing him to fall the small distance from window to the floor. His life all of a sudden became a lot smaller. His eyes widened as he turned his eyes upon his captor. He wanted to look away, but couldn't as his face dropped, begging, pleading, and screaming silently. But silent it was as all sound from the room suddenly disappeared, the outside wind quietened and whispered out. The room darkened ever so slightly. It didn't stop darkening though.

Candles flickered low, so low shadows stretched out along the floor and deformed as the spread across the walls. The woman, the… freak! Her eyes were glowing bright purple now, they shone in the low lighting like beacons on a stormy sea. It was completely silent and still in the room but it felt like chaos to him, it felt like everything was shattering around him as he crawled, clawed, scraped and scratched his way away from her. The woman had gotten up from the wall she was previously leaning against and her true form was slowly being revealed. She floated, only a couple of inches off the ground but she floated, but what was more frightening was what was floating behind her now. 3 Big, black balls. The flew in circles around her back, small trails, echoes of themselves, slipped behind them in their path, emanating pure unspoken energy.

He breathed millions of prayers in a single breath as it was caught, suddenly by some unseen magic. It tightened even further around his neck, painfully squeezing and starting to cut off the blood off to his head. His hands weakly tried to grasp at his neck, to clamp onto the untouchable magic somehow, to lessen the pain, causing him to gawk and his eyes to water. He rose off the ground, slowly, much more slowly than he'd like. He didn't expect this was how he was going to die, but it looked like there would be no choice. His shirt teared, the sound was echoingly loud in the room of silence as it was slow, then all at once it exploded off him, scraps of material going all over the room. One landed on a candle and burnt up immediately in a small explosion of flame. He felt it again through the pain, it was making its way up his leg now, ripping and tearing up his trouser leg as more and more skin was revealed to the freezing cold air that whipped through the room. Then his trousers exploded.

Hey was flung, so hard it cricked his neck, onto the bed. The pressure around his throat, holding him in place had gone. In that moment, his lungs almost collapsed, spewing out a massive cloud of stuck air as shock went through his body. He grasped his neck, clenching it as it expanded rapidly, his breathing matching his racing heartbeat. He glanced down at himself, his eyes raving. He was stark naked. Cold rippled over his body as the temperature in the room dropped several degrees.

BANG.

The windows slammed shut with an almighty boom and suddenly, she rose from the foot of the bed to hovering above it. He gulped, partly because of the lack of air in his lungs, but mostly because of the fear than made him wet the bed. His eyes roamed her and the room, looking for some way out, some bargain, some… thing that'd get him out of this hopeless, and now embarrassing situation. He was naked, above him floated an evil sorceress as he lay back upon a bed that was slowly becoming wetter by the second. His mind reeled at the emotions going through his head, his thoughts unable to keep up with the events conspiring in front of him as his body twitched in fear. His eyes widened as she floated down slowly, raised her leg, as if to show him.

She was pantyless, her slit was completely open to his panicky eyes that took in every last detail, the hairless slit, the smooth thighs, the pink pussy lips.

Her foot came down on his penis. Pain shocked through him, sharp unending pain the forced his body to curl up inwards on itself. And his body would've if not for the invisible restraints holding his hands and feet in place against his will. He strained against them, hammering his limbs against the forces that held him there. It was of no use though and his body did the only thing it could. It screamed. Screamed in pain, in convulsion, in agony in resistance in denial. He opened his mouth and screamed.

But no sound came out.

Pain shot through him again as he felt her foot on his crotch. Her foot, however, had no shoe on it this time, only the stocking that covered her legs stopped the smooth, silk like skin from pressing against his cock. Fear was filling him now as blood pumped through his body at a scary pace. His hands and feet writhed under her not so gentle touch of her foot as it proceeded to move quash and bruise his penis. His blood shot around his body and fear sank it's fang into him as he realised where all of the blood was going. In his fear with a heart beating faster than Master Yi had been on her in that Janna scandal, his blood congregated in his phallus. And slowly, at a humiliating speed and in a humiliating place, this humiliating reaction made his cock go hard. It rose ever so slightly off his body as if to stand to attention to the dominatrix that was over him. Tears welled up in his eyes as all feeling from his arms and legs disappeared as the blood left them. His world now rested on his cock, quite literally he thought as he stopped watching his own reaction, his own body moving against him and now up into the face of his captor. The lines of water ran down from his face slowly, adding more water to the sheets of the already wet bed.

To Syndra, this is what she lived for. That humiliation, that feeling of utter powerlessness in front of her was what she wanted out of her partners. No one was suitable for her, no one could overpower her, so every man was a failure, every man was nothing more than a sheet of paper filled with hormones. She confirmed it every single time, none of them could control themselves in front of her. All of them just got taken over by their instincts, rabid dogs thinking of nothing but sex. Their humiliation filled her, made her feel ecstatic. Not one of them could satisfy this feeling. Not one. She could feel the tension building inside him as she continued to hurt him. She stood on his thighs, her heels digging down through the flesh to the man's bones. Her arms were crossed beneath her breasts, her lips twisted into a bloodcurdling smile, baring her teeth ever so slightly. His silent screams made her body shiver slightly as complete dominance ran through her entire body, her fingertips tingling with untold power and pleasure.

With one foot on his member, she proceeded to toy with him, her toes coming apart and curling around the neck of the head, then closing painfully to cut off the blood flow. His body was shaking now, though thankfully her magic kept her from falling off whilst still digging into his leg. The bulbous head turned steadily purple as his breathing elevated again. Breathing. She watched his chest rise and fall rapidly and had not one, but two ideas. She was starting to feel it now, this absolute power was getting to her. A spark inside her had been lit, the elastic was starting to tighten, and she couldn't wait until the point when it exploded.

He was running out of air slowly and even how fast he breathed, there wouldn't be enough to keep him going. Little spots of black were starting to cover the edges of his vision as his eyes rolled backwards. Pain was shocking through his body, every hit a thunderclap, every stamp a vortex of pain in his stomach. Breathing was all he could do and he was running out. It felt as though the room was getting hotter. The air was thicker that he sucked in and soon the black spots were starting to fade away. Pain jolted through him and his body contracted, his lungs reacting the only way they could, and drew in gallons of air. It was wet, so humid his parched throat instantly was slick with saliva. The body reacted immediately and sweat started covering his entire body, his hands became slimy, his head a fountain and the stench that radiated from his body filled the room like a tropical disease. He got kicked with the silken foot again and his lungs inhaled one more time as he tried to grit his teeth in a worthless effort to overcome the pain. Muggy air filled his throat and didn't stop filling it. His throat contracted in an effort to pull the air down into his lungs, but it was stuck there. His body recoiled, shaking violently as his body tried to clean out his airways, to cough up the invisible object. He was drowning on the sodden air, so humid it was.

Syndra laughed as he coughed up and spluttered out the water that had condensed in his own throat. She stroked the length of her arms, revelling in the atmosphere of the room. Water was coagulating on her body making her skin smooth. Sweat was starting to form and mix with the water so she removed her headdress, letting her hair fall down free behind her as beads of liquid started summating on her body. She ran her hands up and down her arms, the surface becoming smooth as the thin layer of water was spread out. But it congregated in the joints, the cracks, the curves. A thin sheen of water was already gathering on her chest, building in her cleavage. She licked her lips and ran a hand up over her breasts and into her own cleavage where it disappeared from view as she gently squeezed each teat gently. The fire inside her raged as she basked in her control. Pleasure, physical, demanding pleasure was running through her body right now as she massaged her chest within its tight confines. They hadn't even gotten to the main dish yet. Syndra licked her wet lips again as that thought flew through her head.

Fear was gripping him so tightly now his cock stood almost upright. Blood was draining from him his body, his limbs becoming deathly pale as it accumulated around his crotch. His body rose and sank with his wheezing breaths as he desperately fought to survive. Tension had been building even if he hadn't noticed, and she enacted the second idea. She waited for one whole minute. Then one foot on his dick, she stood on it taking the other foot off his leg, giving him sweet relief from the constant pain. Before smashing it down onto his neck, cutting off his air. His mouth gasped with what little air was in there and his entire torso clenched, his ribs coming showing through his skin as his lungs tried to expand to maximum to grasp at whatever air they could. His arms barely tried tugging at their restraints they were so powerless. His body instead thrust outwards, his crotch flailing out into the air. He could feel his entire body building behind itself as it sought to explode, to get rid of the restraints and move outwards. To draw in life.

The foot left his neck and all tension inside him released. He drew in a colossal breath, his lungs filling themselves with oxygen. This his body burst outwards. He exhaled and he spammed out of control. But humiliation came at last. He came. His cock ruptured out cum high into the air. It hung there for a second before coming back down and splattering all on him. He could see the bitch laughing loudly, floating backwards as five massive spurts of pure white seed was emptied from him. He didn't know where this was all coming from as his mind tried cramming in the information. Pleasure filled him despite all the pain. The pain only seemed to amplify the pleasure that he felt. Even after contracting only a little of his bloody actually returned to his limbs as his body squirmed from such immense pleasure. Fear and pain filled his mind but both now only pushed up the pleasure which crashed through him. Waves of it hit him after each spurt so powerful his hips made small thrusting motions trying to prolong each experience.

Syndra was laughing. The man, like every other, had just gone and soiled himself with his own seed. These pathetic animals really have no backbone, no spine, nothing. It was as if the world would never give her what she desired, yet always gave her what she desire. Not one. She smiled at him when her laughing was controllable. It was going to be over soon now, so she would at least give him something he could enjoy. The fire inside her was raging now and her juices were actually running down her leg. She started taking off her clothes, carefully depositing them in a pile below her. She peeled each piece off slowly, the humidity in the air causing each article of clothing to stick to her body. She cast a look over her shoulder to the man still restrained to the bed. He knew nothing of what was going to happen but he could guess at least some of it.

He watched her like a hawk. Piece by small piece she was revealing skin to him. Fear gripped him still, but not as intensely as before. Some beacon of light, some small hope had somehow emerged from the previous events. He might survive. A sex slave he would be but he might survive somehow. Though this brought up other fears of what would happen whilst being the slave. He didn't want to know. The pain had faded away and with the fear shrinking slightly, a small amount of blood had flowed to his limbs. Pins and needles spiked his fingertips as blood seemingly gushed through them. But it was tension that had really filled him. Sexual tension was now filling his mind after the storm of pleasure had subsided. His phallus still stood to attention because of it, still almost like a mast off his body and it only grew harder and harder as more and more skin was revealed. His fantasies grasped at the impossible. He wanted for it to happen, let this humiliation be satisfied with something at the very least!

He was rewarded when she turned around. The smooth thick thighs made each careful step forwards. She was purposefully not floating so she could enjoy every second she walked up to him no doubt. Plump and slightly pale, as if their owner had not seen enough sunlight for her own good. They connected smoothly to her hips creating dashing curves upwards as it rounded off her ass. He'd seen her butt when she was changing, though it lacked plumpness. The main focus was on the waist and hips, the waist which flared inwards creating a balance against the hips that flared outwards. Her smooth stomach was toned, abs showing through around her tiny waist. Her body expanded outwards as it went higher to her chest. The breasts were modest, as he'd suspected but they did not sag. Either youth or magic had clearly kept them in place as they rounded quite wonderfully. Her neck was long and thin, her head balanced delicately on top of it.

Juices ran down her legs as her thighs rubbed the liquid together on top of one another. Her pussy was aching to be satisfied, practically burning up inside her, but she had learnt the build-up. She knew the payoff of taking it slow would be so much more. She still had to make him fear her, she still had to dominate him but her hormones rebelled. She wanted to ride him stupid, to smash herself down upon the pike but her self-control overruled it. She would at least tease him first. So she got to the foot of the bed and waited for a second.

She sensed desperation as she crawled onto the bed. Her breasts swayed below her, her hair cascading down off her shoulders. She was being merciless, she could've hovered over him and started the wild ride, or even just walked on top of him. But her energy and passion came from the dominance. She flicked the hard penis in front of her with malice. It was like a statue carved by the ancients, solid. So she punched his ball sac. He writhed again and fear began to spread, she could feel it in the air. Oh how she loved the toying around. Sex is amazing, but the foreplay is just absolute fun… She had to mince this man. She stood up slowly watching his face closely. It was currently contorting in pain and she smiled. It should be like this. She drew her leg back and kicked hard. She met hard resistance, but still he felt pain. Blood was now thronging so much she wondered if he was steadily going numb down there.

He wasn't writing around as much as before so maybe he had… Another kick later told her he was, steadily going numb.

The hardened cock was going to go flaccid if he was going numb. Damn. Which meant she had to keep it up. Her stomach growled, spilling out more juices from her orifice. It was time to give into the craving.

She dropped herself onto the pole.

Her body roared in delight as pleasure smashed through her. So sensitive she was she couldn't stop a moan from coming through her lips at first contact. Oh god, her experiences were few and far between but it made her question why she didn't do this more often. Pain spiked through her between the waves though. Taking an entire dick at once was never a good idea and her mind blanked out momentarily as the sense of being stuffed covered her thoughts. Her breathing increased and she concentrated on steadying it and herself.

She circled her hips unthinkingly. She grinded herself on the cock, allowing the circular motions to accustom herself to the man's size. Stirring it inside her, she allowed her pleasure to bubble away as the man below her shook. He was out of control though, his hips were making small thrusting motions wildly. She disapproved and smacked him right across the face with the back of her hand, but still he continued. She sighed and crossed her arms beneath her chest to stop her breasts from bouncing from the small thrusting. Absentmindedly she grabbed her nipples and started rolling them in her fingers slowly. Pleasure slowly came through them, like small waves. Her breathing increased slightly because of it though, and soon she was ready.

One hand went downwards and touched her clit. Pleasure blasted through her and she whimpered, her hand going from rubbing her nipple to grabbing her entire breast and squeezing it with the clit. She inhaled faster and decided to ride him. She kept rubbing and riding took over in her frenzied mind. Pleasure detonated through her and she rode him madly. The room was completely silent other than her loud moans and the sound of wet flesh slapping together.

The other breast bounced free as she flew up and down on the pillar. Magic helped speed her along as her tightness clamped down on the cock she rode. She might have ripped his dick off if it wasn't for the obscene amount of lubricant they were both providing. She needed this pounding and was getting the one she wanted. She proceeded to shove the dick into her snatch. She let go of the other breast and let them both bounce hypnotically in front of the man as she rubbed her clit. Pleasure was all she could feel right now. Her firm but jiggling body had sweat all over it as she bounced, the drops of sweat and water being flung all around the room. Her breathing was in fact covered by her constant moaning and the slaps of skin on skin. It echoed around the room. Squelches filled the quieter area of sound as the cock disappeared inside her again, and again, and again. Her stomach jiggled slightly with every thrust.

The man's bindings were released and he thrust as hard as he could. He had little to no power in his limbs though and only managed to thrust up as she came down. Pleasure was making him twitch as his arms tried feebly to do something in this situation.

She rode him constantly, so long that she forgot time altogether. It'd built inside her, released at first contact but it had built again. As she pounded on top of him, she dropped down and grabbed his neck with both hands, strangling him.

'Cum in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…'

She let go of his neck and the tension shattered as they finished. A small snap was heard. Liquids filled the bed creating a stick mess. Syndra collapsed backwards onto the edge of the bed, her breathing little more than a panting. She crawled off the bed and opened the window by hand.

She used the last of her magic she could muster to fling the now dead body out of the window. No doubt someone in Ionia would find the naked man soon enough. Not that there would be any explanation for him.

She inhaled. She exhaled. She smiled. She sauntered over to the bed and lay in it, curling up underneath the sheets.

Men. They may be better than masturbation toys, but fuck them.

Sorry if this one was a little bit shorter than usual, that is because this story was in fact based of the historic 'Black Widows'. Women who would actually kill the other person at the point of orgasm during sex. And then would take a piece of them for themselves. Eugh…