Chapter 0 - Deflowered - Fixed

Evaine LeBlanc could not move. Her wrists were shackled above her head, her knees were forced into the stone beneath her, her ankles and wrists were bound behind her, forcing her to kneel in the dirty cell. At least her captors had the decency to leave her clothes mostly intact. It didn’t bother her.

What did bother her, was an item of importance was missing. Her headdress, that held the spirit of LeBlanc within, was removed. Her soul was still connected to it, but she could not hear the whispers of the first LeBlanc. A part of Evaine, and a part of LeBlanc, and all others that had worn the mantle, coalesced into her being. Without it, there was no direction. She was herself, and yet, not all there. Her captors may as well have taken all her clothes off, as without the headdress, she felt nude. She doubted her captors had the intellect to realize its true nature. Someone with far more knowledge of souls would have ordered its removal. A man that she had sworn to see kneel before her.

Her nose tickled from her hair, draped like a curtain on her face. She shook her head, regretting that her thoughts turned to him. Her purple hair, usually straight and clean, was a complete mess. Her wine purple stained lips blew futilely at the defiant strands, that continued to tickle her. Her latex clothing, which showed off her fit, pale white stomach and exaggerated her cleavage, were not ruined. Though, she wished she wore something that covered her legs more, as he latex pants barely covered her upper thighs. Or protected her delicate skin from the harshness of the stone.

She wasn’t surprised that she was captured. Killing her would have been a waste of time. As soon as the headdress found a new wearer, she’d just spring back up, though not quite as herself. The previous LeBlanc, Emilia, had moments of playing the prisoner. With that experience transferred to herself, she could conjure a way out. Though, if she had been captured, it just meant more work after she left. To her annoyance, she’d have to secure her network tighter. Clearly, her recent frustrations had left her open on the board for him to take advantage.

Convinced that there was no guard with her, she opened her eyes slightly. True to her thoughts, neither guard, nor interrogator, were in her prison. She didn’t complain. From what she could see, the room was lit by a single candle on the left side of the room. The warmth from the candle was a welcome gift, as the stone floor was quite cool against her legs. It illuminated the stone walls around her, and there was not a bed nearby. 

A temporary space? One to interrogate me in, I suppose. Evaine assumed that, whoever her captors were, would pay a visit soon enough. The thick wooden door across from her was shut. The door itself had no handle, and would only open from the outside. She would not be able to open the door without a struggle. Fortunately, struggling was for the mundane people without magic.

She focused on the shackles that bound her wrists. Mana pooled, and she forced it outward, to force the shackles apart. 

They hardly budged.

Confused, Evaine turned her head to see what had, or rather, what hadn’t happened. Her honey coloured eyes widened. Petricite bound her. The anti-magic material eating away at her mana like an insatiable sponge. She cursed under her breath. How her captors managed to acquire such material in its empty state, was a question for her spies. She resisted the urge to shake at her chains. The more time she had the better.

“Grand General, Sir!” 

Evaine grit her teeth, cursing her sudden bad luck. The guard outside her door had just saluted the leader of Noxus. No doubt Jerocho Swain himself, had come to confirm that her capture was true.

“How many were lost to her?” He asked. She could not tell if he was genuine in his curiosity, or wanted to keep an image to his soldiers. That he ‘cared’ for them, if one could care about faceless men and women on the battle. She knew what they were to him. Pawns to carry out his orders, and spread his false promises of a true Noxus. The conversation was lost to her. She again tried to cast her elusive magic, only to be drained completely by the petricite. 

The heavy door opened swiftly, nearly slamming into the wall. Evain glared at the tall man, unimpressed with his show of strength. Swain stood in the doorway, head held high. His long, silver hair was swept back behind his ears and head, reaching past his shoulders. He wore his large onyx coat, though his arms were not in their sleeves. He was without his metal chest-place, and wore his velvet shirt and pants, no doubt weaved with protective magic.

“Evaine LeBlanc, leader of the Black Rose.” He greeted, his heavy boots echoed in her prison. A shallow display of intimidation.

“Jericho Swain.” She returned.

“Twenty-eight soldiers, four of which were skilled mages, slain by you alone” He stopped in front of her, staring down with his piercing red eyes, “It seems we have found your limit.”

Evaine kept her mouth closed. It was kind of him to start the interrogation with simple conversation, but she knew better than to start talking. There was a brief silence between them. Swain was always a patient man, never angry or irritated when something doesn’t go his way at first. Evaine could not say the same of herself. Over time, her organisation had grown perfect in its machinations. Manipulating those of high status into doing their bidding. All her subjects desired to appease her. When LeBlanc wanted something, it was given. When LeBlanc gave an order, it was carried out without hesitation. If she delivered punishment, it was taken without complaint. Such was her will over Noxus, and none even knew that she had control over the Empire for centuries. Though, she was a different LeBlanc than her predecessor.  

Jericho Swain changed that. At first, he was nothing more than a nuisance. Giving away his own parents for their involvement in a cult, that she had organised. Becoming a legend among the people, and becoming a soldier, as she needed him to. To have been sent to Ionia, to die. Just as she planned.

But he did not die. He returned, broken and worthless. His knee shattered, and his arm taken. She did not think twice of the shell that she saw. A cripple, who hung around bars, with that oaf, Draven. 

That was her greatest mistake. 

Swain had disappeared from Noxus. For a time she thought he committed suicide. When he returned he took the previous ruler, Boram Darkwill, her paranoid little puppet. Then slew him for all to see. That was the day he declared himself, ‘Grand General of Noxus’.

 Thus began a game of chess between them. Their followers and subjects as the pieces.

“Once, in my life, I thought you dead. That you lived through your execution, allowed me to realise your specific breed of magic,” Swain broke the silence, “Creating a new body for yourself at the moment of your death, for your soul to occupy. How many times had you died?” He asked. Evaine gave him a bored expression as an answer.

"Tell me, as one leader to another, is it better to be feared than loved, Evaine?” Swain asked, falling slowly to one knee. His good knee, she assumed.

LeBlanc rolled her eyes at such a useless question. But such uselessness to him, was not so to her. He gained nothing from this.

“Both. Feared by your enemies, and loved by your subjects.” She answered. Her subjects remained loyal to her, only because they yearned for her attention. They would compete with one another to hear her voice. She was feared, still, by those that knew of the Black Rose. She was feared and loved, for many, many years.

“A wise choice, were it so easy to accomplish. Where you sit now does not truly reflect it. The reverse, in fact. Your people do fear you. They mistake it for love.” Swain paused, eyes alight with devilish enthusiasm. Ironic, considering the demon that he had absorbed into his being. He enjoyed taunting her. But most of all, he enjoyed having her undivided attention. Like many of her subjects. Her heart swelled at the thought, but she quickly perished it.

“If they fear me, do you then claim to love me?” Evaine mocked.

Swain smirked, a crack in his neutral gaze.

“Perhaps not love. But definitely not fear. Not even hate.” He moved forward, the crackle of his demonic arm, formed of ancient mana, became known as it moved from under his coat. He ran his thumb up along the curve of her cheek. Evaine shivered as its evil energy seeped into her skin. “You fascinate me, LeBlanc. That will make it more fun to destroy your order.” Swain’s thumb stopped at her temple, “and you.”

A flash of red engulfed her vision. Drawn into the layers of dreams and subconscious. A battle of wills in her mind, had begun.

She found herself sitting on her throne. A marble seat decorated with black roses. Where she would meet, and command, her vast network of spies. She knew she was not physically within her own home. None of her loving servants were near, awaiting instruction. The lack of furniture that decorated the hall, was gone. No long tables where feasts were had, nor the heads of varying beasts of the Kumungu jungles, were displayed on the stone walls. 

A memory that drew upon what Swain desired to see. A raven stood in the middle of her hall. The only movements it made were the fast blinks of all six of its blood red eyes. 

“How quaint.” A warped version of Swain’s voice rang through the air. Though the raven did not open its beak, she knew that was the source of his voice. That raven, was his demon. His portent. Swain continued, “I had known you mimicked the hall in which the ruler of Noxus sat within. I wonder, was this hall built first, and the other made in its reflection?”

“Are you so desperate Swain? Invading my mind as opposed to questioning me in person, shows that you have conceded victory to me. You know that I will not talk.” Evaine said, giving her opponent a smug smile, “What will your raven search for? The secrets I have kept with me for so long? The ageless questions that only I have answers for?”

“Nothing so drastic, I assure you.” The raven opened its wings, flying toward her, it perched on an armrest.

“Then what, Grand General,” She spat, “What is it you desire?”

“Not a secret that has lived beyond my own lifespan. I desire something that, I suspect, is much more recent.” With the raven so close, she could see all six of its eyes, three of which stared at her, “and I believe I know where to start.”

Another flash of red took Evaine. She stood in the middle of the same hall. Swain’s raven was on her shoulder. She didn’t bother moving it, it would either peck at her in annoyance or screech until she stopped. He was the invader, and the petricite had her at a disadvantage. His presence within her soul was overwhelming. Her body starved for mana, and she gorged herself on his. The fragmentation of the souls of previous LeBlanc’s were scattered around, too weak to push away the invader without the headdress. 

Evaine saw herself on the throne, a past version of herself. She recalled that this was a memory of a few weeks prior. Her pale face flushed a rosy pink.

She, the one on the throne, had her legs spread. One hand caressed the skin of her inner thigh. Her breath was soft. Her prior self tried her best to quieten her moans. She was still clothed, but her usual attire was only two straps away from becoming undone. In her other hand, was a letter. 

The raven leapt toward her previous self, and perched itself atop the throne. Her previous didn’t notice, too busy with her wine. Straight from the bottle, to be exact. Like some sort of hopeless drunk that didn’t know better, she took gulps from the bottle. Zinfandel, if she recalled. But because it was a memory, and no such raven existed then, her past self didn’t notice. But her current self rushed toward the raven in alarm.

“Get away from-”

“How awful. Such good wine, wasted. You’re supposed to pour it into a glass.” Swain teased. The raven cocked its head toward the parchment, “ I recognise this. A letter I sent to Darius, how interesting.”

“Do not dare to mock me.” Evaine warned, her face growing warmer by the moment.

“If I remember, this particular letter was sent to inform him that his task had bore fruit. That I had disabled another of your schemes.” He gloated.

“When I find a way free of this spell I shall end you.” LeBlanc threatened, stalking towards the raven.

“We shall see.”

Her perspective shifted. Once again, she returned to her throne. Her own hand, without any control of her own, delicately rubbed her thigh. Plum coloured nails dragged deliciously on her soft, pale skin, leaving red marks. Evaine shook with every scratch she left. 

You’re forcing me to relive this memory? Evaine wanted to frown, throw her hands and fight against the burning sensation in her chest. Instead she had small smile, and worked herself up the flame in her heart. The pale skin of her cheeks and nose was flush, light perspiration building on her skin. The bottle of Zinfandel was empty and forgotten on the floor. Her honey eyes lidded from the gentle, simple motions of her hand. The odd swelling in her chest, telling her to continue. A spark that yearned to become a flame. She knew she shouldn’t. It was undignified. Finding pleasure from nothing more than her enemies scathing words. She was forced along, as her previous self read through the letter again.

Darius, Hand of Noxus,

Your mission is complete. You have completed each task set before you, and have committed to the cause exactly how a soldier should have. If I could commend you anymore than your title allowed, I would. Know that you may return. A reward will welcome you, if you choose to accept her. Though it will be short lived, enemies of Noxus have begun to rise in the southern reaches, that bear more concern than the Black Rose.

Though the Pale Lady has acted out on several occasions, her attempts are aimed at false schemes, distractions, and futile causes in play. She will be in my hands soon enough. Until then, we need only wait.

Upon your arrival, a contingency of guards await you in the Immortal Bastion. They will need guidance that we discussed in person. I trust you will carry this out to the letter.

Though I must keep this short, I wish you well on your journey home. Do send my regards to your brother, and inform him that some of his bar tabs have been paid off. 

Signed,
Grand General of Noxus, Jericho Swain

“Bastard,” She groaned through her teeth, her fingers edging closer to her core, “An enemy that concerns you, more than I?” 

She bit her lip. Her fingers grazed over the latex that covered her most sensitive area. She whined as she caressed herself slowly. The spirit of LeBlanc did nothing to stop her. Rather, it felt as though she was being encouraged by her. The previous LeBlanc’s never had a rival before. No-one could challenge them for so long. And none of them had ever, ever been in love. Though she would dare not call it love. Something so strange and alien shouldn’t have a place in her heart or mind. 

This exploration of her feelings was not the first. At first, she was furious that Swain had such a hold over Noxus. She would have him assassinated time and time again, and he would remain. A fact that made her bristle with rage.

But over time, new feelings came into play. He had retaliated with his own agents, and she would cast them down and develop a new ploy, which he would rise above. It had become fun. In some twisted way, it was like a game. And to lose, would be to forfeit their life.

Then one night, Evaine had become so irritated at her failing schemes, that ended with her touching herself in ways she hadn’t thought she would. The spirit of LeBlanc told her something that night. Something she’d dread to admit.

 She dropped the letter carelessly to the floor. Tiny grunts left her, and echoed throughout the empty hall. All her agents had left. Some, due to necessary orders to counter Swain. The rest, to give her ample space to do as she pleased. 

“How you so brazenly state this information,” she moaned low as her fingers pushed in harder, “as if you expect me to take this message from one of your many couriers. You’ve gotten braver over the months.”

Her breath quickened. A sudden shock up her spine forced open her mouth. She moaned involuntarily. Her other hand rose to cover her lips. High pitched whines were muffled as her pleasure heightened. The rubber suit barely stifled the sensations her fingers caused, that sent sparks throughout her body.

“My, my. A bit uncouth, wouldn’t you say, LeBlanc?” Swain taunted, his raven hopping down from the throne, back to the armrest. He watched her continue her masturbation. Something she didn’t dare wish anyone see. Least of all her nemesis.

Do not get closer, demon. You aren’t worthy to see me in such a shameful display. Evaine warned.

“I must be mistaken. I thought this,” His raven raised a wing toward her, “Was the result of my actions. Should I not have the right to bear witness to something I had caused?”

She moaned louder through her hand. Her knees swayed inwards and outwards, and her fingers increased their tempo. Liquid spilled down her thighs and onto her throne. Her arousal was clear, and where she delighted in it at that moment. She was mortified to relive it before her adversary.

“Oh fuck, I can’t,” She released her hand from her mouth, bringing it down with the other. She reached around to the sides of her waist, fumbling with a few clips.

Do not continue this. I demand to be released 

“Do you?” Swain asked, “It seems you desire more.”

“If only I could tell him.” Her past self strained as she shuffled her body in a better position.

Not like this, I will not suffer this shame.

The clips at her waist were released, the tautness of her suit relaxed. She began grasping at the edges, and it slowly peeled off.

“That I- That I love-” 

Please, do not do this!

The memory became grey in her eyes. Her movements were frozen, as was the raven. Instead, Swain himself loomed over her. His passive red eyes staring into her very being. He smiled, a rather victorious smile.

“You begged. A victory for me then.”

Evaine could hardly process what he said. The memory may have paused, but that left her with a constant stream of pleasure that the memory was stuck in. A constant feedback. 

Bastard. The current memory flooded her conscious with hormonal needs and desires. And seeing him, her rival, the source of all this pleasure, only heightened her senses.

His mental self, bent down toward her. His normal hand caressed the side of her face. His thumb rested on her lower lip, pulling down slightly. She could feel movement return to her. She sluggishly took her hands up to his wrist. With how weak she felt, she couldn’t pull him away. Evaine could only stare into his red, piercing eyes. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to bite him, or…

Her expression softened. He hummed.

“You see every flaw in me, and you do not even blink.” He whispered, drawing closer to her. His hand dropped lower. Her grabbed her chin and tilted her head up, “A bit unwise, wouldn’t you say?”

He moved closer. An inch separated them. He stopped, his other, demonic, hand rose up to hold her cheek. She sighed, the crackle of his mana seeped into her skin. Delicately caressing her flush skin.

Her hands twitched. She could move properly. The memory was no longer frozen, but it did not play against her will. The pooling arousal surged as she took in his scent. His mana. His very soul on display, for her own to witness.

Evaine closed her eyes. She couldn’t hold back.

Her wine purple lips closed the distance. She kissed him, and to her delight, he reciprocated. The already existent pleasure coursing through her, soared into euphoria. His hand left her cheek, and moved to hold the side of her torso. He pulled her up with barely any strength, and his demonic hand left to cup her her ass, much to her delight. Even covered, she could feel the spark of his energy on her skin. Her own hands, now under her control, moved into his silver hair. 

She separated with a gasp. Swains red eyes were lidded, and behind them she could see his arousal. His desire for her. But he did not act. He made to stand, her fingers slowly leaving his hair.

“More.” She desperately pulled him back in, and deepened the kiss, pushing her body into him. She was reminded that, though this was not the real world, it was their very souls that were colliding together like this. The thought made her squirm in his powerful grip. She had to rise to her tip-toes, the difference in height between them becoming greater as he stood straight.

Evaine squeaked as she  was picked up by her thighs, just shy of her ass. She squeaked as he put hardly any effort in. Their kiss resumed. If this was the real world, her wine coloured lips would be a mess. Though, the thought of him making a mess of her made her shudder. She ran her fingers through his hair. Though, she was delighted to be in his grip, Evaine purposefully struggled. The sensation of being controlled, of being denied an escape, had her writhe in ecstasy. 

The only man who could play her game, and win, was the only man who could control her. To seize her. To take her.

A throaty moan escaped her. He playfully squeezed the sensitive skin of her ass, and used the opportunity to prod at her tongue with his. She gleefully allowed access, sparks of joy in her heart as their tongues coiled around one another. Sharing in the ecstasy of their of pleasure. 

She grinded her covered breasts against him. His strong, muscled chest was heaven against her sensitive breasts. She would not admit it to him, yet, but her breasts remained more sensitive a pleasure spot than most other places. She found joy in rubbing herself against him. She never imagined playing the horny dog, as she often assumed that men did.

The loose material of her clothing, after being unbuckled, was to his advantage. His fingers slid under her latex. She separated from him, a gasp of surprise, turned to a moan of pleasure. The foreign feeling of another’s fingers idly prodding at her nethers was more intense than her own.

“Were you always so in need of touch, Evaine? Or, was it my touch you craved?” He teased, drawing closer to a place no other person had been.

She wailed as he unexpectedly honed in. His deliberate, agonising, pace was replaced with the satisfying feeling of his hands pressing into her wet sex. The demonic mana of his possessed arm, found her clit. Every few seconds, it would send small, controlled shocks through her sensitive nub. Each time she barely controlled her need to scream her passion . She mashed her lips against his in answer, and in an attempt to silence her needy voice. She ground against his hands needily.

She grunted in surprise as she was forced back down onto her throne. He forced her knees wide.Then moved to tear off the latex covering a breast, and his demonic hand to tear off the latex on her crotch. Her eyes widened. She shuddered in anticipation. Her scanned her form. And his expression was smug. She kept her legs wide. Another shock went through her body, as his eyes travelled along her body. She was losing herself to him. Every action he made was deliberate and measured. It made her feel so small, being appraised by him. As if given a value, like some slave girl.  

He moved back in to claim her with his lips. His hand caressed her nude breast, while the other rubbed her exposed nether lips. She tried her best to return the kiss, to compete with his dominating tongue. But more of her mana was overwhelmed by his soul, and she became sloppy. 

Lost with what to do with her own hands, she decided to let them rest on his shoulders. Evaine let herself be consumed by the lust. A mutual emotion that converged between their two souls. His mana flowed into her like a constant stream of passion and lust. Like lightning, it crackled against her. Tickling her very soul, invading her very being. Her own mana relished in it. Being overwhelmed. Being controlled. Being taken by him. It was more than what she wanted. It was bliss.

Please, enter me. I need to feel you. Please.

Their lips separated again. Her lungs ached for breath, even though this place was not real. Her lidded eyes stared into him, tears of joy forming in the corner. She wanted him back. Needed him back. Yet he stood over her.

“More begging from you? Another victory, then.” He smirked. Unlike her, he found no need to breathe from their exchange. She tried to control her breathing, the rise and fall of her chest coming to a slow. 

A flash of red took her vision. She had returned to the prison. Bound, and with Swain barely an inch away from her. Her arms still shackled behind her. A new sense of vulnerability washed over her. Her pants, reasonably, soaked.

“Shall we take this elsewhere?” Swain asked. Evaine’s honey eyes travelled down his form, lingering at the bulge of his pants.

Evaine licked her lips. 

Swain delicately curled his fingers around the back of Evaine’s neck. Mana rushed into her spine, filling the pieces stolen by the petricite. The tingles of foriegn magic coaxed pleased groans from her. She closed her eyes, relishing in the sparks of electricity that coursed through her body. A mana transfusion was, at least in Noxian culture, a sign of great trust. 

‘Strength, Absolute’, the old ideology of Noxus. It meant those that held strength, held the power to rule. Swain completely overhauled this in his rise to power; ‘Vision - Guile - Strength’. That these were the core aspects for Noxus to rise. Vision to show Noxus a greater path. Guile to teach Noxus how best to take that path. Strength to carry Noxus along that path.

To show strength meant to prove greatness. If a Noxian was given strength when they had none, they must prove they were worthy of being given it. To rise above who they once were.

Many of the common folk and basic military were glad to have such a reformation of Noxus. It was no longer frowned upon to help a fellow Noxian. No longer living in fear of who considered themselves the strongest. Evaine had thought she was the pinnacle of authority. Leader of the Black Rose, a shadow organisation that pulled at Noxus’ strings. Swain didn’t just cut away those strings, he gave Noxus its own Authority.

Evaine rested her head against her rivals chest and sighed. She lost, plain and simple. Whatever he planned to do with her, she would no longer fight against. Without the spirit of LeBlanc to guide her, she was just a pretty face with illusion magic. Should she flee, there would only be so much she could do before being retaken. 

Swain may not be so merciful a second time.

She wiggled her toes as her ankles were freed of petricite. Her own mana was somewhat free to regenerate soul-source, though still impeded from the anti-magic material around her wrists. She still felt light-headed from the mana-drain, but Swain was making that dull pain evaporate with his own mana. 

Far too focused from the relief she felt, partially due to being freed from the petricite, she failed to notice Swain’s far too innocent smile. She squeaked as he forcefully pulled her up. Her head spun for a couple of seconds. She took a steady breath, and realized two arms were wrapped around her.

“A rose all to myself.” Swain said. Both arms folded behind her back, between her still bound arms. There wasn’t anything innately sexual to it, yet this made her feel more flustered. A sort of fluttering was in her stomach. She wasn’t sure if the clamminess of her palms was from the sudden rise of temperature, or her own traitorous feelings.

Evaine’s heart quickened as she buried her head in his chest. The sheer height difference between them had her breathing just a little bit harder. She could be on her tip-toes and still not reach past his nose. Really, it was unfair for someone to be so tall and not look ridiculous at the same time. If she thought her wrists were uncomfortable from the petricite, they were now unbearable now. She wanted to hug back. Maybe to run them over the solid muscles of Swains chest and stomach.

She met his blood red eyes looking down at her. She felt his hand slowly trail up the back of her neck. His mana-infused hand tingled her scalp. He gently held her head close to him.

‘Maybe,’ she thought, ‘that the cuffs weren’t so bad.’ She licked her lips. It gave her an air of vulnerability, one that she secretly hoped he would take advantage of.

“Grand General, sir.” The guardsman outside called, “is everything alright?” 

 Evaine couldn’t see if he was at the door or not, but the thought of being seen sent nervous tremors in her heart. Swains eyes narrowed, his gentle features hardened. He growled, his tender motions turned to a harsh grip. Hair caught in his fingers like a leash, Evaine winced as she was pulled out of the prison room. 

“Sir!” The guardsman saluted with a hand on his chest. He was in standard leather armour, and a spear held in hand, pointed upward. 

"Do not fear, guardsman. It seems the Deceiver is as cunning as I thought. I will need to take her to my private quarters,” He yanked her in front of him, making her cry out as hair threatened to tear. He followed with a boot to the back of her knee, forcing her to the floor in front of the guard. Evaine grit her teeth. A part of her wanted to fight back, being put into this state of subservience. The other, traitorous part, was a swell of confused feelings. Her soul, while predominantly her, was already divided bag of previous LeBlancs, with each having their own opinion on the matter. They couldn’t talk to her per se, but she felt them weighing on her emotions. Being thrown around like property made her breath heavy. Her clothes felt unsuitably tight. She couldn’t believe it. Her attire, designed fit her perfectly, to bring out the generous swell of her curves, and ensnare the desire of her subjects, that she had worn for years. Was too tight.

 “I will require an escort,” Swain continued, “you will suffice.” 

“Yes, sir!”

LeBlanc gulped as she was painfully brought to her feet. If she was in the Noxian prison, and they were to walk the entire way to Swain’s quarters, her scalp was in for a bad time. She let a pitiful whine out, nudging her head into Swain’s fingers.

He slackened his grip, bringing his hand down to her neck, to her relief. Swain took the lead, with Leblanc to his side. The guardsman was to her back, his spear ready for her escape attempt.

***

They had been walking for some time through the streets of Noxus. The streets to narrow for carriages, in case of an army attack. They were orderly, though. Every person of Noxus moved with intent. Never to stop and gaze at something that caught their eye. Guards scanned the ever moving crowd at the sides. If someone so much as littered, a guard would force them to pick it back up, or find themselves on the bad side of a whip.

Evaine fought down a chuckle. If someone gave out the punishments of all her crimes, and the previous LeBlanc’s crimes, then they’d have a very tired arm. She would also be dead before half of the whippings were given out.

She furrowed her brows. Her vision had steadily grown blurry. If she didn’t actively find something to observe, her thoughts became vacant. Like everything became one blur of colour. A strange numbness was on her lips, spreading to her nose and eyes. She soon became all too aware of her breathing, and took deeper inhales through her mouth. She became more lightheaded with every step, and she could feel cold beads of sweat that ran down her body. 

She began to panic, “Have I been poisoned?” She couldn’t have been. Her trials demanded she be at least incredibly resistant to all forms of poison and venoms.

Swains grip around her neck softened, and her vision slowly returned. Evaine’s eyes widened at the sudden realization. 

“He’s cutting off blood circulation to my head, which mimics-“ Her thought was broken off as his hand tightened again. She could feel his fingers squeeze down on her jugulars. The experience resumed, and the world started to slip away again. Though her airway wasn’t cut off by any means, it became a task to breathe. Her movements became sluggish, but she was still forcefully pushed along by Swain. 

This process repeated the entire journey. Never consistent in how long he’d deprive her brain its need for blood. Sometimes, he’d hold until she could hardly keep her eyes open. Eyelids flickering as the colour and light became muddy.. Other times he’d hold for long enough for her breathing to labour.

Still, she couldn’t help but feel excited. Being tortured in front of the unwitting populace of Noxus. Some would look at her in disgust. Some avoided meeting her gaze, as anyone being held prisoner by the Grand General must have been either dangerous, or personal. Both, in her case. Others would look to her in curiosity, wondering what she had done to deserve this. 

More than her embarrassment though, was the shame she felt pool between her legs. Even in public, she was his to play with. He had claimed victory over her, and he had the right to do to her body as he willed. She shivered in his grip. Arousal that had cooled down was quickly resurfacing. She felt the needy desire to hold the hand around her throat. To show her submissiveness to the only man to control her. To beg for him to punish her more, and take her needy lips around his-

Her knees buckled under the thought. Her blood-deprived brain nearly malfunctioned from sheer arousal, that she had fantasized her way into. She looked down, trying to hide the stupid smile on her face. 

“Hold, guardsman.” She heard Swain. The guard was probably going to yell at her. She was glad Swain intervened first. Being ordered by another would have ruined her mood. 

She reminded herself of where she was, and tried to calm down. She couldn’t let everyone in Noxus have their attention drawn to some horny woman in the grasp of their Grand General.

“If she insists on being on her knees,” the Grand General pulled out a key, and undid the shackles around her wrists, “then she’ll be on her hands too. Like a dog.”

Her previous thought scattered to the wind. A cold spark of excitement ran down her spine. She couldn’t decide if she was excited, or horrified. Or maybe that spark was her soul-source being freed completely from the petricite. Regardless, being called a dog was not something she’d have expected. With that, brought a whole host of dark and taboo feelings. Swain brought his face level with hers. Evaine swallowed nervously.

He whispered, barely enough for her to hear, “Tell me you don’t want this.”

Evaine closed her eyes, and smiled meekly as she placed the flat of her palms on the ground. Swain seemed to accept this, as she was pushed down to the street. She grunted as she felt a thin rope wrap around her throat. The soft material bit into her skin, not enough to choke her, but enough to be uncomfortable.

“Move, dog.” Swain ordered, tugging at the impromptu leash. She obeyed, unused to moving in such an awkward manner. Her breath grew laboured with every movement. The pavement dug into her knees, ruining the perfect smoothness of her pale skin. Her hands itched as dirt and small stones pressed against her palms. She relished in every tug of the leash.

But most of all, she loved his cold gaze when he called her a dog. It was so out of character for him.

“This is so out of character for you!” She berated herself, realizing the irony. Yet she delighted in it. In that moment, gone was the Deceiver. Just a horny woman that wanted to live out secret fantasies with her.. 

She bit her lip. Who was Swain to her, other than a rival? Sure, she fantasized being in his grasp - sexually - but what were his feelings on the matter? If he truly hated her, or didn’t care for her, she could be executed and be done with. Did he really love her?

She could have him stop this if he did. All she’d had to say was a word, and she’d be back on her feet. But this feeling of staged humiliation, in front of the eyes of the public no less, was something she craved. No illusions to hide her. All eyes on her.

Whenever she saw Swain, he was composed. He had never let his voice raise before, and he was nothing short of polite to everyone. Had she brought this sadism out of him? Her thighs pressed together, letting every movement send delicious sparks in her body. Every so often, she’d felt his gaze on her. She moved her head down, and licked her lips. She’d hoped she could unleash every ounce of his dominant persona.

Evaine's hand landed on an unfamiliar boot. Her blood ran cold. She slowly trailed her gaze upward to meet the startled eyes of a young man.

“Oh,” The man dumbly looked between the Grand General and herself, “I-I apologize sir."

“It is not you who should apologize.” Swain tugged at her, “It is her.

Evaine couldn’t believe it. She wanted to argue, to suggest they keep moving. But she kept her mouth shut. She didn’t have to contest anything. She wouldn’t just roll over to every-

A heavy boot painfully shoved her head into the ground. The rough ground dug into her cheek. She cried out at the sudden show of force from Swain. A single honey coloured eye stared at Swain, who loomed over her. His piercing red eyes the only show of colour as his body seemed to darken as he blocked out the sky. Her breathing became heavier, fear mixed with excitement as he so brazenly stood on her. Heat swelled in her loins.

“It slipped my mind. A dog does not speak as we do,” Swain removed his boot, letting her raise her head off the ground, “They bark.”

Evaine’s heart skipped a beat. All thoughts ceased in that moment. The world truly felt quiet, all she could hear was the heavy heartbeats in her ear. Her leash tugged, and she looked up to Swain. He was expectant. He wouldn’t give an order when she already knew what he wanted. She bit her lip.

“W-woof.”  She tested the word demurely, mortified that she had actually done it. She couldn’t believe she’d done it. Shame and embarrassment rocked her core. Her, the Deceiver, barking at a nameless citizen of Noxus. It was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous that it almost made her laugh at the absurdity.

“Pathetic,” Swain yelled. He brought his other hand to grab a fistful of hair, “Louder!”

Evaine’s hands trembled, and her mouth ran dry. This was the first time he’d risen his voice. It was not fear that encouraged her, in fact, there was a twisted feeling she couldn’t grasp. It was good. Her wide, honey eyes met the strangers, “Woof! Woof woof!”

She could hear the guard hold back a mocking laugh. The stranger before her looked like a blade was at his throat. She bit back the tears that formed at the edge of her eyes. She would not show weakness here. Not anymore than she was forced to.

“Woof! Woof!”

A tug at her leash had her pause. She feared that he’d have her bark louder. Or humiliate her in another debase way.

“Carry on, citizen.” Swain said. The stranger nodded, dashing away as fast as he could. Evaine glanced at Swain. She wasn’t sure what she was getting herself into. She could leave. Vanish in the streets and run away from all this.

Swain met her gaze, a pleased smile and lidded eyes on his features.

She felt elated, proud even, that he was happy. The fear remained though. If this was the start of something she disagreed with, she would have nothing to do with it.

They resumed their walk, and she hoped not to repeat the experience.

Yet, the traitorous part hoped she did. The memory of his boot on her head was an imprint on her mind. His forceful command of her body, sent a symphony of pleasure down her spine. Anticipation remained ever at the forefront, heightening her senses for whatever came next. Every time her knees rose and fell, her thighs would slide together, reminding her of her constant arousal. It was maddening to think that she, Leader of the Black Rose, would be turned on at being treated like a dog.

The trio finally escaped the streets into the Keep. Even there, there were a number of men and women of various rank running, walking or standing at their posts. Every time her hand touched the cold, stone ground, she watched for a stray boot, fighting herself to steer clear. Or to reach for it. 

“We are here.” 

Evaine broke from her reverie. She was within the walls of the keep. The door to Swain’s personal quarters before her. Another tug at her neck caught her attention.

“Stand.” Swain ordered.

She complied, surprised by the hole she felt in her stomach. She wouldn’t admit it, but being forced to walk on all fours felt better than standing. She rose to her feet shakily, her scratched knees and feet sore from the rough ground. A sort of stinging heat that she simultaneously enjoyed, and disliked. She stood closely to Swain, letting his scent calm the confusion she had toward her new feelings. He smelt faintly of alcohol, but mostly sweat. It wasn’t a pungent odour, or one that she delighted in. It was simply… him.

The guard was either wan't bothered by her proximity to the Grand General. Or the simpleton didn’t have the capacity to question why Swain was letting her so close.

Swain didn’t bother to look at him, “Take the day off, guardsman.” 

“Sir!” The guard saluted, and carried himself away.

He led her inside, Evaine didn’t miss that she was still being led along by the leash. She took in the room. The only sources of light were by candle flame, no window to speak of. A single couch sat before an empty hearth, with a small table to the side, which had a bottle of Bilgewater Rum, a shot glass and a book. At either side of the hearth were filled bookshelves. She scanned across the titles, finding each novel ordered alphabetically, via the author’s last name.

She didn’t have a chance to further investigate. Swain had stepped in front of her,  leaving little space between them. He invaded her senses again so easily. His scent returned, and she welcomed it wholeheartedly. After their walk through Noxus, he must have built up a sweat. It was surprisingly intoxicating. 

She wanted more

She bit her plum coloured lip. She wanted to beg him for more. To submit, and please him. The memory of barking was so vivid, the feeling of shame and utter debauchery all to fresh in the mind. A shiver ran through her spine as a darker, traitorous side of her yearned for his sadistic games. The ghost of feeling his boot on her head made the skin tingle. She straightened her back, and tried to bring her best ‘serious’ face to the forefront.

She pushed a finger into his chest, which hardly moved him, and snarled “I’m not some human pet for you to order around.”

“No,” He looked down on her, “you are much more than that.” Evaine tried to ignore the fluttering in her stomach.

“I-I still won’t do what you want.”

“It will be much easier if you do,” His eyes flickered. He smiled darkly, “Though, that isn’t what you want, is it?”

Evaine’s breath hitched, “There isn’t some hidden meaning behind my actions, bastard.”

“If there truly isn’t, then fall to your knees. I’m sure I could find something to keep that mouth occupied.”

Evaine shivered. She almost did. To hold his cock in her mouth, was something so lewd and unfamiliar. She hadn’t thought her first time to be anything like that. But, to feel his hand gently brush her head as she licked and sucked, almost had her buckle in.

But she needed more. 

“Make me.” Evaine almost licked her lips at the glare he gave. She needed him to put her in her place. To show he was worthy of her. No LeBlanc had ever submitted to another. She wanted to be taken, and the only way to show Swain, was by action. She tried to punch his smug, handsome face.

He deftly caught her wrist with his demonic hand, the talons of his fingers dug into her skin. She winced as dark mana electrocuted her, but held firm. His other hand grabbed her other wrist. He stepped towards her, forcing her to move back. Now trapped between the wall and him, Swain pressed his body against hers. She bit back a surprised moan as his still covered, hard dick pressed into her stomach. She didn’t expect him to be aroused yet.

Evaine shook her arms, trying to escape his grasp, to no effect. Her breath quickened, finding joy in being bound by him. Her honey eyes stared into Swain’s piercing red. He stood over her, and bound her hands with petricite?!

“How did they slip past me?” Evaine wondered, more astonished than annoyed.

He was not angry, or smug. He was watching, waiting for her. She glared back defiantly, waiting for him to take the first move.

He leaned in. Never taking her eyes off her. His hand followed down the curve of her back, stopping just short of her tailbone. Evaine twisted her neck toward him. Inviting him. He brushed past her cheek, mouth an inch away from her ear. 

“Tell me you don’t want this.” His grip slackened, his fingertips tickled her skin as he gently held her. Embraced her. 

Such a gentlemen. She smiled. He wanted certainty that she was willing. He wasn’t some monster, discounting the demon ever within him. He was in control, true, but only as far as she was willing to allow. It was optional. She could back away. She knew she could leave. But her fear evaporated with his words. He wasn’t going to do anything she didn’t like. Evaine would rise to any challenge he would give, and conquer them.

She bit her lip. His warm breath glided across her neck. Goosebumps rose, and she shuddered.  With a mischievous smile, she met his eyes, “Make me.”

His hand at her waist snapped down to her latex pants, and tore off the material with ease. Her underwear now revealed, white with black roses, was soaked. His lips found hers, and Evaine gasped, to find her mouth decisively dominated by him. Tongues wrestled, lips caressed and crashed into one another. But he had already won. She moaned openly into his mouth. His hand busy fondling her bare ass cheek, sent waves of euphoria through her. But she wanted more. Always more. To aggravate him. She wanted his total attention. 

She moved away from his aggressive kiss, “No.” She breathed, the lust in her eyes betrayed her frown.

She felt her ass spill around his fingers as he tightened her grip, forcing her to lean into him. The lump in his pants that hid his hard cock, brushed against her swollen, needy sex. She wanted to grasp it. To pleasure him. She gasped as the crackle of his mana shocked her being. She arched her back into him as sparks flew down her spine. She could hardly blink from the intense feelings that washed over her. He stole her lips, and she couldn’t fight him.

“Yes, more!” She inwardly squealed as he moved rougher. Each thrust into her, was followed by needy groping of her bare, pale ass. Her cheeks would spread, stimulating the lewd fire in her core. She flexed her hands, wanting to be more involved in this lust. To remove his pants and feel his cock in her. To hold his hair as their lips caressed one another.

She pulled away from his mouth. A growl fell from Swain’s lips, making her quiver in delight. She refocused.

“Unbind me.”

Swain paused his movements, a smirk fell on his lips.

“No.” He grabbed the back of her head, forcing his mouth on hers. A shock went through her body at being denied, and taken, so easily. She was no doubt staining the outside of his pants now. Though, with how he was moving, she’d bet that he was pooling his own collection of dirty fluids.

Finding that she couldn’t argue with him, she did the only thing she could.

She bit his lip, hard.

Swain recoiled. She opened her mouth, and was swiftly silenced. A red, crackling demonic hand grabbed the shackles around her wrists, and tore them off. Never mind the sheer mana to overload petricite. But the strength to do so, had Evaine in awe.

Her feet found the ground, her hands, now bound by his red, crackling arm, were held above her head. She was spun with her face against the wall. He used his other arm to forcefully push her head down, until she was bowing toward the wall.

He didn’t say a word, though she wish he did. Silence took the room. Anticipation in her now turned to anxiety. What had he planned for her?

Her answer was delivered as a hand fell upon her ass. Her mouth hung open, a voiceless whine left her. The resounding ‘smack’ in the room confirmed it. He spanked her again, bare hand meeting bare ass. This time she squealed. Her knees shook with every punishing blow. She could feel her peach shaped ass jiggle, which she was sure Swain would take as an invitation to deliver more of his harsh slaps. He didn’t alternate between either cheek, he remained on one. It was enough for her to cry out as the pain she felt only increased, as continued abuse fell upon her.. 

“This is far less than you deserve.” Swain sneered, delivering another smack to her raw ass cheek. She wondered how it looked, as that lone cheek would have imprints of his hand. Likely red, raw and obviously ravaged. The bruises alone wouldn’t be pretty. Swain continued, “Yet I know you find pleasure from this,” His hand caressed her untouched cheek. The pale skin was softly played with. His fingers barely sunk into the supple flesh.

She cried out in shock as another harsh slap made contact. Her skin, once pale and perfect, the desire of many of her followers, was marked thoroughly by his rough hand. The time between each spank was never the same. She could feel his hand hovering in the air, an enticing build-up of anticipation would well up within her, and be released as pleasure with each point of impact. 

After both cheeks were roughly abused equally, he would alternate between hitting each cheek consecutively, to groping at her roughly. This only cemented the delightful soreness she felt. Her breathing was laboured, she no longer cared about holding back her groans. She knew it would drive him wild, let him know it was okay to keep going.

She felt Swain’s presence next to her head, his body bent over her own. His hidden member brushed against the aching swell of her ass. 

“Keep your hands on the wall, or else I’ll send you back to the stockades.” He threatened.

That was unfair. Evaine wanted to fight back, like some bratty teen. It was fun to push him further and further. To drive in the faux-helplessness she felt in his commanding presence. Still, she bit her lip and nodded, not ready for this to be over. She kept her palms rested against the wall. He leaned back, the slow movement of his hips grinding into her had her whine. His hand rested between her shoulders, while the other was used to hold himself up. 

Evaine shivered as he slowly dragged his nails down her spine, interrupted by the latex of her outfit. His hand settled on her hip, which pulled her in as he ground himself against her. He felt so hard. It was difficult to believe he was holding back this much. His other, demonic hand repeated the same motion. Only this time, tiny shocks of mana pulsed into her being, drawing a sharp gasp from her lips. She sighed as his talons purposefully tore through her tight outfit, but barely enough to leave marks on her porcelain skin. Her breasts were slowly released from the tight outfit, as the straps on her back were broken away. Not soon after, the now ruined clothing fell to the floor in a heap.

She didn’t have long to relish her now exposed and free skin. His free hand slapped her ass, sending both a spark of mana and a spark of pleasure up her spine. Swain separated from her, repeating his earlier command. She nodded absentmindedly, making sure her hands remained.Her breath was incredibly laboured. A myriad of sensations ran through her body. Pain, pleasure and anticipation welling up to the breaking point.

Evaine licked her lips at the thought.

There was a ‘click’ and a shuffling of clothes. Before Evaine could ask, Swain returned against her flush form. Only, she felt a slight tickle of hair, and the warmth of skin.

And a swelling hardness that rested between each of her flaming cheeks.

She couldn’t help the loud groan that she lustily let out. She flexed her body toward him, rubbing herself against his hard dick. She looked over her shoulder, finding his composure cracking on the surface. His own face was slightly tinged red, the look in his red eyes spoke of desire and need.

The fluttering in her stomach returned at the thought.

Evaine shook her head. He wasn’t about to take this easily, “Don’t think you can just rub that thing against me and expect to -ah!-” She was cut off as he gave another hard smack, reigniting the pain on her ass. 

He pulled away from her. She panicked, thinking he had changed his mind. 

She squeaked when his hips came back against her with a loud, fleshy slap. She turned back to the wall, pressing her cheek against the cool surface. Her fears effectively squashed, she moaned as his shaft brushed along her soaked sex. She hardly noticed her teeth digging into her lip from the torturous pleasure ripped along her as her exposed clit was rubbed by his swollens glans. His hips slightly moved back and forth, and his hands were busy cupping her untouched breasts. 

Despite this, Evaine wanted more. She wanted for him to have his way with her, “What’s wrong? You -unf- having second thoughts? -fuck- Afraid?”

He didn’t so much respond as snort, much to her chagrin. She whined under her breath as his hands rolled her breasts around in his palms. The added stimulation was getting too much for her. She needed something to set that trigger off. She needed something inside to have her finish. She hadn’t found any other way for her to reach that climax.

“Come o-on,” She looked over her shoulder, trying to give him her most sultry gaze, betrayed by her quivering lips, “Just fuck me already. You’re so hard, don’t you want it?”

He pulled back further than before. Evaine held her breath as the tip of his cock lined up with her soaked entrance. He straightened up, standing over her bent over frame. Evaine licked her lips. She wiggled her hips, trying to get any leeway and have his member enter her; to no avail. Swain’s grip was absolute. 

“Beg.” 

Evaine couldn’t stop her shiver if she tried. A single, simple word that held so much weight. For her to beg, was to admit losing, acknowledge his superiority and letting go of any adversity of him. It was to surrender her pride.

And she couldn’t be any more excited.

“Damn you, just fuck me already! You dragged me here, and couldn’t wait to sink your talons into me, so you had to fucking tease me after getting through the doorway!” Evaine hissed, trying her damndest to push herself onto his hard member, “So just take that cock and- oh fuck!”

She gave a strangled cry as he slipped his entire member inside her wet cavern. Evaine stood on her toes. Her back arched as immediate, almost painful amounts of pleasure racked her body in a single moment. Her thighs clenched and unclenched, damn near shaking from pleasure. In one swift movement, Swain had taken the last piece of her dignity and made her cum with a single thrust. First her mind, then her soul.

Now her body.

Granted, there was a load of foreplay before even reaching this moment. Nobody could say she was easy to please. With his hips pressed firmly against her red, stung ass, she knew he was as deep as he could go. She felt full. The best kind of full. Not overstuffed, or pushed past what her body was capable of. What he was giving her was just right. It was blissful.

“A simple ‘please’, would have been sufficient.” Swain said. She didn’t feel for her skin could become any more pink than it already had, she was proven wrong.  groaned as he pulled back, having an effect on Evaine she wasn’t familiar with. Not only was she fed praise, but she was making Swain feel good. And they weren’t even moving yet!

Her current ‘rider’ was soon to fix that. With both hands placed on her hips, he pulled back from her, just until the tip was inside. He didn’t slam back in, the novelty of penetration was already gone. His pace started slow and measured. If she had to assume, he was trying to find her sensitive spots. How often had he had sex to know- 

“Hwah-” She covered her mouth after a particular thrust, had her reflexively moan louder than desired. Her good spot wasn’t that deep, he barely needed to go halfway inside before finding it. She heard a contemplative hum from behind, and found that spot being prodded forcefully again.

“Shi- ah- stoo-aah!” Evaine closed her eyes. Despite her minor protests between her gasps and moans, she relished in the feelings that swam throughout her body. He wasn’t perfectly hitting her good spot, with the occasional deep thrust that bypassed it entirely. But that wasn’t to say it didn’t feel amazing. Sex, by its nature, was supposed to feel good. That he was making it feel better was just an added bonus.

Evaine’s nails dug into the paint of the wall as minutes passed by of his attentive, doggystyle sex. To her, those minutes felt longer than they were. Sweat perspired on her porcelain skin. Her breath was replaced by loud and guttural groans and moans. She didn’t feel the need to hold back. Her voice was a siren song to encourage more of his thrusts.

She knew he was trying to minimise his own voice. Grunts and sharp exhales were the telling signs of someone holding back. Something she wouldn’t accept.

“Please, let me- oh- hear you! Let me know I feel good.”

She was happy to hear him let out a long groan. Evaine pushed back against him whenever he let his voice slip, subtly trying to let him know she loved hearing her man feel good. 

She soon noticed his member had gotten thicker, and it was throbbing inside her. She bit her lip, her primal urges telling her what was to come, and welcome as much of it inside her. 

“Yes, yes, cum inside me. Fucking do it, I need- aah!- mmf!” Evaine was cut off after a particularly brutal thrust. His hips pressed up into her ass, causing her red cheeks to squish upward. She was yanked off the wall and forced up straight, then pressed into the wall. Her head was turned back to face him. He stole her lips the moment she started squealing, which was returned by his own groan. A deep and messy, tongue filled kiss exchanged between them as Swain came inside her.

Her drawn out cries were silenced. She couldn’t find herself able to move any part of her body, thankfully Swain was able to hold her up with seemingly no issue - which set her off far more than she thought . Even after having her mouth invaded, his tongue practically violating it, she ecstatically accepted it.

Evaine knew her body was marked as his. And she loved it.

She gasped when he withdrew his length. His cum soon seeped out of her satisfied mound. She realized she hadn’t put any effort into holding herself up, with Swain still holding her. Steadily, she placed her feet on the floor, only to instead rise in Swain’s arms. Being carried like a bride.

“Huh?” She dumbly let out, her wide eyes finding Swains own.

“You would be exhausted after today. Let us retire.” He said without a hint of tiredness, like he hadn’t had his way with her.

Evaine didn’t argue though, instead nodding with wide, happy eyes.

***

Swain’s bed was huge. It could fit three people, with their arms and legs spread in their sleep. Even then they wouldn’t touch. The bed looked to be in pristine condition. Either, Swain had the perfect butler and maids in all of Noxus, or he hardly slept in the damn thing.

Evaine thought the latter, all things considered.

“Though, that’ll soon change.” She snorted at the sexual implications. The things they could- and most definitely would- do on this bed, was something she anticipated.

Evaine was gently laid on the bed. The behaviour Swain was now exhibiting was a total one-eighty from earlier. Not that she was complaining, of course, she was hardly in the mood to be abused in a relationship. They’d most certainly discuss her limits in rough play later on, she didn’t want to be exposed to something without her consideration.

“Though, the public stuff wasn’t so bad.” She mused. 

Evaine let out a relaxed sighed. The bed was the most comfortable she had laid on in some time. Though, that may have something to do with her body being drained of all its mana for some time. And being forced to crawl from the stockades to the keep. Also having her buttocks beaten and then getting fucked rather satisfactorily.

He was right, she was fairly exhausted.

“Before I forget,” Swain started, he stalked over to a nearby wardrobe. She couldn’t see what he was retrieving, but it must have been fairly important.

Evaine’s eyes turned as wide as saucers.

“You’ll need this back.” He nonchalantly held out the headdress of LeBlanc.

“I-” Evaine dumbly looked back and forth from him, to the headdress,” I don’t understand.”

“I have plans for Noxus, Evaine. You are intrinsic to them, but for you to operate at your best, I understand she is of great importance.”

“You do realize that, even if I wanted to be on your side, it is ultimately LeBlanc that decides what I do.” Evaine took the headdress from him, slowly fitting it onto her head.

“Be that as it may, I will take that chance.” He was smiling way too innocently. Like someone had told him a funny joke, and now he was going to retell it.

With the headdress fully secured on head, she could feel an entity occupy her body immediately. Not unlike Swain’s invasion of her mind and soul, her mana was pushed and manipulated by an outside force.

LeBlanc had returned to her host.

“Oh, Darling, it is so good to be reunited with you,” LeBlanc chuckled, ”And naked too! My, I would like to hear this story.” 

Evaine blushed, “I- I hope you do not think less of me for being captured.”

“Nonsense, darling. I was the one who had you captured, after all.”

“What.” Evaine sat up, ignoring her protesting muscles. Swain snorted.

“Is everything alright?” He asked with an amused lilt to his voice. Evaine nodded quickly, pointing at the headdress.

“Really now, how did you think you had been captured so easily? Oh, Swain would say it was all his work, but I let him get to you,” LeBlanc said offhandedly, “It was as simple as influencing your hormones to drive you into a needy, lustful woman. Send away all your security, and subtly convince you to pleasure yourself when you think of your little crush? Truly, I do not blame you. He is the only living man I know with such sharp intelligence.”

“You made me feel those things? Why?!”

Evaine noticed Swain’s concerned expression.

LeBlanc was quick to correct her, “No- no. I intensified some already existing feelings. You desired him, in a very strange way. Thus, I wanted to give you what you wanted, in return that I get something that I want. It’s not my fault that you expressed your arousal through such submissiveness.”

“Please stop…” Evaine felt heat rise in her face. Swain’s face flickered with amusement. Though he couldn’t tell what was going on, he might have taken a guess.

“As for why,’ LeBlanc paused. Evaine could feel her mentor’s spirit become withdrawn, and somewhat saddened, “Allow me to speak plainly. After centuries of planning and subterfuge, one gets tired of all the secrecy. I’d like to spend a life time having a family.”

Evaine genuinely did not expect that. She softly looked to Swain, “I see. With him, then?”

“Yes. You don’t have to, I understand that the relationship we share is one of trust. I lost the rights to my own body some time ago. With that came- well- regrets.” 

Evaine nodded, “It’s fine. I think- I think I would like that,” She felt the spirit within her become happy, excited and a little nervous.

“Good! Though I must offer some future advice.” Evaine paled, “There are plenty of things you can do with your mouth, if he isn’t too busy filling it.”

Evaine’s lips turned to a thin line, “No. We will not talk about this.”

“But darling-”

“I will lock you in a chest, fill it with stones and throw it into the ocean.”

“Have you considered anal? It’s a clear way to show your man that you’ll be his.”

“I don’t want to listen to you.”

“Lubricant is key, darling, and a plastic sleeve is a must have. Hygiene before pleasure. I should be present the next round.”

Evaine quickly shot up, warmth returning to her cheeks, “Y-you will not.”

“Oh? Come now dear, just think about it. Him, lording over you with such power and control, and myself, ever present in your mind, whispering such lewd acts that you can’t help but perform. Like a toy for him and I to share.”

Evaine bit her lip, looking over to her new lover. Swain had a wide, amused smirk on his face.

“I take it LeBlanc isn’t averse to our new relationship?”

Evaine shook her head slowly, “I think she has plans of her own that involve us. Which include-” A flash of magic overtook Evaine’s body, her honey eyes turning to a glowing gold. She leaned back, spreading her legs, and cupped her breasts. “I expect many children, Swain dear. I wish for my host to be impregnated as much as possible. I’d like to share the experience of being a mother.”

Another quick flash of magic, her eyes returning to their honey colour. Evaine was frozen in her lewd pose. Her cheeks darkened.

“I-If it’s alright with you, I think I’d like to go again.” Evaine smiled, shuffling forward to lay on her back. Swain was quick to follow, his arousal bubbling back to the surface.

