Character for the demon, Balthazar was inspiration by the OG character from Metro Mike that shares the same name.
"I volunteer as the tribute." Samara's voice rang out over the hushed crowd. It was the lottery day. A young woman would be selected to be sacrifice to the demon horde, living under the earth that night. All the young, unmarried women between the ages of 16 to 25 gathered in the village center. The leader of the village stood at the ready to pull a name at random out the large basket. This was the tradition for as long as the elders could remember.
For many years, the chosen would scream and cry while the other girls rush back to the arms of their families. Under guarded watch until nightfall, the chosen was carried out of the village and chained to the stone outside the large mouth cave where the demons lived. The screams would echo through the night until the chosen was devoured. In the morning, there would just be the bloody chains and scraps of fabric.
At twenty-two, Samara was ready to take her fate in her own hands. Yesterday, she watched her best friend die in childbirth. The child died too. Both child and mother were placed in the earth not long after.
Standing at the grave, Samara looked about her village. She had no ties anymore. She was orphaned years ago by sickness that did not touch her for some reason. The males of the village stay clear from her. There were marking on her back since birth. The village believe she was a witch born.
Now, Samara approached the platform where the village leader and the elders stood. The older men were shocked. Never has there been a volunteer to the sacrifice. She boldly faced the men and repeated herself. The men nodded and led her away to prepare her for the night.
She asked to bathe at the river where she usually cleaned herself. She washed her long black hair and body with the crush flowers essence and soapstone. A guardsman stood close in case she changed her mind and ran. Samara would not. If she ran, there would be another chosen and sacrifice to the demons.
The guardsman led her back to the holding house without restraints. She dressed in the flowing gown of white silks. A few of the village women came and painted her eyes and lips. They adorned her skin with fragrant oils distilled from flowers and honey. Her hair was brushed until it shined. A crown of flower blossoms was place in her head. Samara sat still, allowing herself to be pampered. The women thanked her for volunteering. Their own daughters were in the crowd with her.
Nightfall was approaching. Walking between the elders with the village leader leading them, Samara made her way through the village. People tossed flowers at her feet and praises for her selflessness. Samara held her head up high as she walked. This is what she chose, not for her village, but for herself.
The party arrived at the large stone near the mouth of the cave. Samara allowed them to chain her to the stone. The village leader kissed her forehead and thanked her again. The men left for the demons would soon be spilling out to taste this year's tribute.
Samara stared into the mouth of the cave. The night was illuminated by the full moon, yet she could not see any movement. In the past, the village would hear the screams of the chosen as the men left. Is that what the demons were waiting on? She did not want to scream. Screaming meant that she did not want to take control of her destiny.
Samara began to sing. Her voice cut through the silence of the night. She sang the songs that her mother would sing while working in their little garden. She sang to the demons, calling them to her.
Balthazar began his ascend to the mouth of the cave. Tonight was the sacrifice, and he knew his underlings had probably already made short work of the tribute. He was just there to ensure no one tried to go into the village like promised centuries before.
He heard singing, not screaming. His underlings were standing at the opening of the mouth, hypnotized at the voice of the tribute. In the pale moonlight, the young woman in the white gown was singing while chained to the stone. A few of the underlings had moved out, slowly. They were listening to her song of sailing ships and creatures below. Balthazar become hypnotized too.
Samara watched the little ones, maybe four feet in height, stand at the mouth of the cave as she sang. They cocked their heads like they were listening to her song. She continued to sing to the creatures. A few ventured out, stopping again to listen more.
A larger demon emerged from the cave's mouth. He was taller and broader than the rest. He stood straight like a human man. He was different. For starters, he was wearing clothes where the others were nude. The little ones were a dark reddish color and hairless. He was black skinned with white marking on his face with pale eyes. As he approached Samara, she saw his tousled black hair and elongated ears. She paused her singing to take a breath and began again. He smiled at her. His sharp teeth were on display.
"Hello." Balthazar spoke to her. She was beautiful for a human. Her long black hair flowed passed her slim waist. She had a sweet, innocent look to her. He could make out her dedicate features since she was not screaming in terror at the sight of him. Her scent was of flowers and honey.
She stopped singing. Her eyes roamed over the demon's face. Samara regarded him as handsome, not repulsive like the elders would always say demons were. Maybe the elders never met this one. There was an air of power and control about him. Could he be the demon king she has heard about, the one named...
"I'm Balthazar. May I ask your name?" He asked.
"Samara." She tried to keep the fear out of her voice. Without her singing, the underlings were coming closer.
"That is a beautiful name. Tell me for I am curious, why sing when you should scream?" He implored, watching her. Her breath was increasing as the underlings draw near. He could see her fear now. Only the fear of pain, not of death. She interested him.
"I volunteered as the tribute this year. I know what will become of me. I thought singing would sound nicer than screaming." Samara replied. There was an underling close to her foot. She felt the wetness of a tongue lick her toes. She bit her lips to keep from crying out.
Balthazar hissed at the underling who scurried back from them. He was not done talking with her yet. "You volunteered to be eaten by demons, why?"
"To take control of my fate. I have seen too much death. I will choose my own destiny. This is my choice." Samara explained, baring her neck to him. Her crown of flower tumbled off her head. "Please, make it quick." Balthazar moved his face to her neck. Her scent made his body go tight. Something that had never happen before. He felt something shift and move inside him. This was her destiny, only just a small part of it.
Balthazar lifted his claws to her chest. Above her heart, he pressed his index claw to the flesh. It was just enough to leave an indentation. Lines appeared in her skin from the mark. This was his sigil. He marked her to warn others from touching her. She was his now.
His actions surprised her. Samara thought for sure he would be ripping out her throat, drinking her blood by now. There was a brand on her breast, and he was unlocking the chains from her wrists with his claws.
"You are mine now. Your destiny is in my hands." Balthazar mused, lifting her into his arms bridal style. She was speechless. She simple wrapped her arms around his neck. There was nothing else she could do.
"What about the feeding of the demons?" She asked, her voice wavering. Balthazar smell the air. There was a band of bandits heading to the village and right now they were dangerous close to the cave. The underlings made their way to the bandits with their king's command. Carrying her to the small ridge, they watched as the underlings killed and devoured the bandits.
Samara turned her face away, burying it into the side of his neck. He looked down at her curled up at his chest. Never had this felt was so right. He found himself staring into her soft green eyes. He felt her hand caressed his face. Her warm lips pressed against his. She was bold and he like it. He deepened the kiss, opening her mouth with his tongue.
She whimpered at the feeling of his mouth on her. Samara never felt herself in such a wanton way. Given half a chance, she would pull him down to the grass and let him take her right there. The men in the village did not catch her eye. Maybe she was meant to be with this demon.
The underlings were pulling the cart of things of the bandits back to the cave. Balthazar carried Samara inside. She never looked back to the direction of her village. It was never her home anyways.
Balthazar moved quickly through the shadows with his prize in his arms. He needed her in his bed now before he lost control of himself. Now, they had arrived in his chambers from the shadows. Samara was barely able to look around before she was place on a bed of soft furs and blankets with a demon hoovered over her, kissing and caressing her.
She purred as his hands touched her body. His claws lightly scratched her skin, making her shiver. Her hands worked the buttons of his shirt, pulling it off his torso. Her fingers explored his chest and back, making him growl and moan.
He moved from her, kneeling at the side of the bed. Balthazar pulled her to the edge. The gown bunched up around her thighs. His hands pushed the gown up more, pass the junction of her body. Samara shivered from being so exposed to the demon. He placed kisses on the top of her thighs and caressed the skin. Samara opened herself to him, wanting to feel his touch there.
Balthazar pushed her thighs apart wider to make room for his head. He reached out with his tongue and took a taste. He buried himself in her womanhood, his tongue licking the delicious essence of her. Retracting his claws, he licked his index and middle fingers and began to push them in and out of her entrance. Her whimpers and moans at his attention were music to his ears.
Samara never though she would have a man's face against her womanhood, let alone a demon's. Trembling at the attention, she reached down with her hand to the top of his head. Her fingers tangled into his hair. She moved with his fingers as they thrust in and out of her center. Samara sat up a bit, using her free hand to brace herself up. She watched him as he feasted on her flesh.
Balthazar looked up, seeing her above him. Her face was to the ceiling as she moved against his fingers. He tasted her innocence, yet she moved in prefect rhythm with him. He moved his fingers from her center and replace them with his tongue. The long, thick muscle move like his fingers, yet tasting her.
"You taste so fucking good." Balthazar moaned, burying his face more in her womanhood. Samara moaned, feeling his tongue twisted about. She moved more, riding his tongue and face. She felt something building inside her. That feeling she would get when she would play with herself with her own fingers.
"You are so close. Do you want to cum, Samara?" Balthazar asked quickly as he did not want to miss the feeling of her orgasm around his tongue.
"Please, yes. Make me!" Samara cried out as his tongue twist and move with abandonment. She grinded against his mouth as the feeling washed over her. She fell back on the bed, gripping his ears to hold him in place.
Balthazar held her thighs open as he devoured all that her body gave to him. Her taste was driving him mad, sweet and tangy. He did not stop licking until she let go of his ears. He felt her fingers stroke his hair gently as her body quivered.
He stood up towering over her recline form. She watched as he removed his pants. The shaft was thick and ready. She slowly sat up as he began to stroke himself. Looking into his eyes that were a pale yellow, she licked the head of his shaft. She looked into his eyes as she replaced his hand with her own, moving up and down the length of him. Samara ran her tongue across the skin, feeling the bumps and ridges of his shaft. She never took her eyes off him as she began to take him into her mouth.
Balthazar's head went back as Samara performed her oral feat on him. His hands tangled into her hair as he gently thrust himself into her wet mouth, allowing her to become accustomed to taking more of him each time. Samara flattened out her tongue to have him slid in and out of her mouth. One of her hands were clutching onto his ass cheek while the other was massaging his balls.
Balthazar roared as he pulled away. He was getting close to his own release. He needed to be inside her now. With one quick motion, the dress was tossed aside.
"You are beautiful." He growled, taking a moment to look at Samara. She was indeed. She had a woman's body of curves and soft skin. Her black hair was tossed about. He growled again, turning her over on her hands and knees. He could not wait any more. He moved himself into her warm, wet center slowly, letting her get adjusted to his shaft.
Samara gasped as he filled her, never experiencing the sensation before. She moaned at the feel of his withdraw and reentry. She moved with him, needing more as another orgasm was building inside her. His hands were on her hips, holding on. He was letting her rock back and forth on his shaft. He ran his hand up her back. He stopped. There were slightly raised lines upon her spine. He gently moved her hair to see them.
Balthazar grabbed her hips to stop her movements. He heard her whimper in frustration, but she would get her satisfaction just in a moment. He traced the marks with his fingers.
"Those have been there since my birth. The village believe me to a witch, just too scare to do anything against me." Samara told him as she felt his fingers on the marks. "No one knows what they are."
"These are demon runes." Balthazar replied, bring his thumb to his mouth. With his fang, he pierced the skin, letting his black blood pearl up on his thumb. He placed his bleeding thumb at the top of her spine and moved down, leaving a trail.
Samara arched her back as she felt his hot blood on her skin. Her body shook as she felt a strange heat from the marks. She cried out as trails of what felt like fire sprouted from them. She turned her head to see black swirling lines were being etched in her skin.
Balthazar pulled her up against his chest, his shaft still deep within her. His arms caged her to him as the lines ran across her body, showing the patterns that were always under the surface. He turned her face to his face and capture her lips with his. Slowly, he moved as the lines had complete the pattern.
"Look in the mirror." Balthazar said, nodding to the glass near the bed. Samara looked, seeing her body now adorned with black markings. She watched as her demon lover moving inside her.
"I have waited thousands of years for you. The demon born in human flesh. The one that I will share my throne with. My queen." Balthazar whispered in her ears, not taking his eyes off her through the mirror. He thrust deeper in her, needing to feel his queen cum while he was inside. Samara reached back, wrapping her arms around his neck, hanging on as Balthazar moved faster. His hand snaked down to her center and started to play with her clit.
They did not break eye contact as Samara reached her release. She screamed as she tightened around his swelling shaft. Balthazar roared as he shot his seed deep inside her. He bit her shoulder, sinking his fangs into her flesh as a seal to their bond.
Sinking to the bed together, Balthazar curledaround her, still inside her. Their breathing was labored. Balthazar brushedback her hair and kissed her neck. Samara moved closer to him, feeling his bodyheat on her back. Gripping a blanket, Balthazar covered them up. Soon, he wouldpresent their queen to the kingdom. Right now, he wanted to keep her, hisprecious treasure to himself.