Bound at your hands and legs, gagged between your lips and laying in the grass alongside something like an elk-skin screen that separated you from your captors and their fire. Like a sack of potatoes you'd been tossed into the storage pile to await the men who took you to finish with their first victim. It was another woman, a stranger to you who'd joined your caravan just the day prior when your people met her upon the road. She was only a few years older than yourself, dark haired, elegant in her confidence, and quiet. Being the nomads your people had been, no one disparaged her for traveling without a husband, but it certainly didn't seem safe. You remember your own father had insisted she join them and let their safety be their numbers. She, after some deliberation had accepted... and was no paying for it.

Your caravan was set upon in the night by marauders, wicked men who slew the likes of your father and gathered up the women like prizes. The night of you'd been hiding underneath a cart, hoping not to be found when you saw her doing the same under one of the larger vehicles just alongside you. You hadn't noticed her at first because she'd been laying with her hand pulled to her lips almost in prayer. She was kissing a ring, and only stopped with a start when you tried to call out to her.

She seemed shocked by that, but you thought that together you could sneak away; you simply weren't one to leave someone else behind. And after a few moments she seemed to agree. She reached out to you and you prepared to crawl to her the carts above began to move, and the heavy metal rimmed wheels of the one above her rolled over her quickly retracting hand. A finger was sliced off, the one with her precious ring... and she screamed, either in agony or sudden fear.

It was the worst thing she could have done, for then you were both set upon and left where you are now. Beyond the thin screen was a campfire which sent the shadows of the marauders up the animal skin curtain like demons. You watched them strike her, rip at her clothes and rape her as silhouettes in turn. "When this one's done, get the next!" one man bellowed in a wheezy cackle. And who was next? Well that would be you of course, and with the poor woman wanderer woman already tortured for an hour you could bet that she would soon succumb and...

Your fate was sealed, or so you thought, because when the other woman had had her finger cut from her hand you were reaching out for her and your hand had hovered over the ring she'd lost with her finger. Still a naive girl, you'd picked up that ring in hopes that you could return it to her. That'd given you hope, and the ring was still clutched in your palm tightly so as to stay hidden. But why hold it any longer? You were going to die an awful death, and there was naught but you could do by clutch that ring tightly and silently cry for help. You begged, and that's what did it.

With the dark figures of men thrusting like animals into a limp shadow underneath them, your own vision went black. You palm seemed to burn a few moments, and then... you were in another world. "I can make it stop," came a low, almost growl a voice that reverberated down your spin and between your legs.

The darkness around you was not one of unconsciousness. It was a thing all its own. It was a shadow you could touch and feel, abyssal and all encompassing. Yet that voice was close, whispering right in your ear. Even as you rolled over and attempted to shy away from it, it followed you. "I only need one thing of you," it continued, filling your ears and your mind with a masculine wickedness, playful as much as it was evil and soothing, in a strange way.

And in the dark you began to feel yourself touched. Without a doubt there were hands upon you, and though you could now move your own you couldn't brush them off you. There wasn't even anything to grab. It felt like you were swatting at smoke, but there was no denying a firm grip on your hips, of warm fingers tracing up your abdomen and to the curve of your breasts. Weight was pressed upon you like some figure had lain atop you, and at last you felt something physical as you tried desperately to close your legs and kick it away.

"Give yourself to me... and you'll go free," that weighty voice purred into your ear while the sensation of two lips running up your jaw sent shivers down your spin. "Say yes... pray to me and spread your legs." You could feel it on now, a heat like hot air from someone's lips - or perhaps a furnace - blowing across your own mouth while the comforting sent of fire filled your nose. It was smokey, momentarily unpleasant, but strangely familiar. "Say yes," it coaxed you further while something ardent and wicked pushed between your legs.

Frightened, teary eyed and desperate you shook your head and refused to open your lips until that powerful hardness brushed up and down your crotch, nudging at the slick peak of your clit and smearing warmth across it. Then you opened your mouth, and perhaps in pleasure or perhaps in agreement you said it. Then... it fucked you.

On your back in the dark, you felt your arms restricted, pinned to the ground suddenly as if by chains. You opened your mouth to scream, but something filled the gap. Something wet and warm flicked over your teeth and coaxed your own tongue to dance the witch's dance with it. Hands unseen enveloped your waist, raising your hips to an upward angle as you were penetrated by something utterly unholy. For surely anything that felt that good could never be of the divine. It filled you, pushed you open to near pain, then retracted and pushed in again. The very sensation seemed to make your legs want to spread, though you still resisted... only a pair of forearms were under your knees, holding you open and exposed.

The pace was increasing, the depth seeming to reach inside you in a way that made you want to squirm away from it even though the warmth exploding inside you was as satisfying as a hot meal. Your lips couldn't scream except more than a muffled whine against some unseen pair the same that only released you when a heavy impact hammered against you. Finally to the base you felt the mound of your womanhood serve its purpose. That cushioned impact came again and again, while the smell of a hot bonfire filled your nose and lips seemed to trail down your throat, biting and nipping until they could latch onto one of your breasts.

Your body was folded, one leg raised while another hand pushed across your abdomen and cupped which breast wasn't being teased upon by a hot mouth. Fingers splayed across it, possessing you wholly as you at last were free to shout and hiss. You could thrash like an animal, but it only encouraged each thrust. The impact became heavier, and those lips pushed under your jaw tilting your head back and making your body arch as at last a true fire burst within you. Throbbing gushes of something powerful and wet spurted into you again, and again until at last you opened your eyes to the night sky above.

You were returned to your place in the grass, and the smell of smoke was stronger than ever... though now unpleasant and choking. Your eyes were watering, and you rolled over to find your arms free and your gag removed. But more than that, the world around you had changed. The elk-skin curtain that had been the theater to your night of horrors was ripped to shreds... very much like the people on the other side. You saw the fire was raging huge, and around it were the shriveled up corpses of men all but incinerated with their limbs broken in odd angles.

Everyone was dead, even the other women from your caravan who'd been tied elsewhere waiting their turn were now just terribly charred remains almost inhuman. The only person who seemed to have been spared was the wanderer woman. She lay in repose by the fire, her body bruised, her throat choked red and her eyes lifeless. She'd been spared whatever had come, as had you who'd been freed and left with a new trinket.

On your right ring finger was the woman's ring you'd taken. You hadn't put it on yourself, but now there it was, and try as you might it wouldn't come off. There was no one to help you either... save for one, who would ask you only one thing in return for whatever you desired of it. That was... so long as you were willing to stomach whatever the consequences would be for everyone else.

So there you go! As per usual I have no idea what I'm doing. To summarize what's above for those of you who always hated English classes: you're a simple caravan girl in a medieval world who came across a witch. You and the witch were both captured by some awful men, and in the scuffle to get away she lost her prized ring which you find to be enchanted. Within it lives a powerful demon, who will grant you its terrible powers in return for one thing: sex! The demon even seems to hold a special place in its heart for the owners of the ring. There's room for some wild smut of all kinds as well as a bit of human/demon romance!

What more is there? Frankly, I haven't any idea. So if you don't either don't feel bad. I'm happy to get literally any response to my prompts. Maybe this has inspired you and we could continue? Maybe you just like it and want to chat about it? Maybe you're intrigued by my writing (how tho?), but this one doesn't do it for you? Check my other prompts then! Or maybe I'm shouting into the void! Who knows? Only you... I guess. Feel powerful yet?

Anyway, that's enough of my rambling. Let me hear your thoughts and depending on that we can see where we go. I don't have a kinklist, but I'll list a few of my absolute favorites here in case that intrigues you: oral (giving), rimjobs (giving), outdoor sex, switching and much more! What do you like?