~ Dark life of an angel~ {Seeking Dom male}
Dark Life of an Angel
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Human Angel(sub) ^ Enemy Warrior ~Dark Life of an Angel~ When she was a child her parents were killed and she was raised with her cousins. Arriving at her cousins door steps she had little memory of the events that had lead up to it and was on the brink of insanity. After recently watching one of her cousin die she is captured in that raid. Spending some time in a dark cell she is finally brought out and introduced to her captor.
Fetishes
Consensual Sex... Rape... Rough Sex... Anal... Cervix Penetration... Female Virgin... Hot Dogging... Tit Fucking... Doggy Style... Cum... Egg Laying... Pregnancy... Impregnation... Orgasm Denial(receiving)... Gang Rape... M/F/M... Double Penetration... Yaoi... Yaoi Rape... Brother/Brother Incest... Cousin/Cousin Incest... Brother/Sister Incest... Brother/Sister/Brother Incest... Necrophilia... Human/Her/Creature... Tentacles(receiving)... Bestiality(horse, canine, snake, dragon, wild cats)(receiving)... Cross Dressing(receiving)... Chains(giving/receiving)... Whips(giving/receiving)... Bondage(giving/receiving)... Torture(giving/receiving)... Humiliation... Violence(giving/receiving)... Sexual Pain(giving/receiving)... Nonsexual Pain(giving/receiving)... Abuse(giving/receiving)... Broken Bones(giving/receiving)... Shoulder/Arm/Wrist Injury(giving/receiving)... Rib Injury(giving/receiving)... Knee Injury(giving/receiving)... Jaw Injury(giving/receiving)... Bloodplay(giving/receiving)... Burns (giving/receiving)... Nails(giving)... Biting(giving/receiving)... Oral(giving)...Deep Throating(receiving)... Hair Pulling(giving/receiving)... Breath Control(giving/receiving)... Modern Setting... Fantasy Setting...~~~ Ask about any not mentioned ~~~
BACKGROUND INFORMATION
Four Kingdoms and Five Centuries
The lands of Brokk, Eglath, Valerie, and Nordhri have been at war for at least five hundred years and the end seemed to be in sight. The Nordhri had mostly returned to their home land years ago. A few small bands had stayed merely so they did not officially step out of the war. They caused minor damages to supply lines and achieved minor victories in small skirmishes, but nothing that would win the war.
With civil war Valerie had torn itself apart nearly three generations after the war had started. The crowned prince had poisoned his father and soon after being crowned king was dethroned by an outraged general. The general had tried to withdraw its troops and stay within its lands but Eglath and Brokk would not rest till complete domination. The Valerien army ran itself ragged trying to defend its borders and all in vein. Rule and land fell to the Brokk.
Three hundred years into the war and Eglath was beginning to show signs of struggling. Rumors had started that the Seven no longer stood with them. The the gods no longer showed favor to the Eglath army. Rumors were the Gods had turned their back and a lose would confirm this in the eyes of the Priest. Without the support of the Gods the Priest would leave the army. Without the Priest the men would not fight, for fear of further angering the Gods.
The testing day came and the battle raged. When night fell Eglath army was in shambles. The priest had left the camp early, knowing the Seven had left them to their fate. As with the Valerien army before, the Brokk took control of the Eglath land and people. The only thing standing in the way of the Brokk army and ruling house was the Nordhri north land.
The ruling house of the Nordhri had long perished but the spirit of the people still lived on. The army was ran by several generals who coordinated in the best interest to keep the army and people in tact. All those who were not in the army had long ago retreated further north into the harsh mountains. It was hard living but the people were survivors determined on never being blended into the Brokk culture as Eglath and Valerien.
The Nordhri Army they could not survive a one on one battle with Brokk. They knew they could not survive forever in this existence but they had to survive long enough for the soothsayers visions to come through. Within every generation a child was born with wings. Prophecy was that one of these children would lead the Nordhri people back to the throne. Many of the children never reached adulthood, either having gone insane or having been hunted down by the invading army.
The Gods
The Seven are a septune god, a single deity with the following seven aspects: Father, Warrior, Smith, Mother, Maiden, Crone and Stranger.
Believers in the Faith pray to specific aspects of the Seven for help and guidance depending on their circumstances: to the Warrior for courage and skill in battle, to the Father for justice, to the Mother for mercy, to the Smith for making whole what is broken, to the Crone for wisdom, to the Maid for innocence and pleasure in life, and to the Stranger for death. Candles are lit before the altars symbolizing each of the seven aspects, and hymns are often sung. Weddings are conducted standing between the altars of the Father and the Mother.
Adherents of the Faith use seven-pointed stars, crystal prisms, rainbows, and the number seven to represent the deity, and rites of worship heavily involve the use of light and crystals.
The Drowned God's domain is the sea. They believe that the Drowned God created them to rape, reave, and carve out kingdoms. The Drowned God himself is believed to have brought flame from the sea and sailed the world with fire and sword. The eternal enemy of the Drowned God is called the Storm God. A common prayer is, "What is dead can never die, but rises again, harder and stronger."
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Name: Dannica
Age: 22
Race: Human/angel wings
Job: Soldier in the Nohdri Army
Personality: Submissive/ Switch
Height: 5'7
Hair: Black, Mid length
Eye: Light Brown
Appearance:
http://i114.photobucket.com/albums/n...146-284079.jpg
History: When she was a child her parents were killed and she went missing for nearly two weeks. When she finally showe up again, it was at her cousins door steps with little memory of the two weeks. On the brink of insanity, it took weeks for them to starting restoring some resemblence of sanity.
When they came of her age three cousins joined the army as many of the young men of her village did. Refusing to be left behind, Dannica joined as well. The next six years were spent keeping her destiny a secret.
One night she came awake to the sound of fighting. Coming out ofher tent, the camp was in chaos and fighting. The one of the last thing she remembered was watching her cousin Devon die. She could hear the twins Ian and Issac screaming her name.
Something hit her from behind and the next thing she was aware of was waking on cold stone. That cell was the only thing she knew for some time.
Time really did not mean much after so long in the darkness. The only break in the darkness was the occasional visitor that only brought pain. After a while that did not even matter. The purpose had no meaning to her as her life faded into the shadows. Pain was pain and the marks faded to bruises and soon melted away till the next visit. Her eyes and long grown accustomed the darkness and she could make out shadows even in the darkest corners though there was little to look at.
In the beginning he had tied to her to the wall but the shackles bit deep into her wrist and served no real purpose. There was no hope for her to escape and after the first day she did not try to fight. The beatings were not so much to leave her bloody as to keep her in submission. It wasn’t cruelty so much as necessity though she could not think of anything important that they would need her cooperation for.
So the hours grew into days or maybe the days grew into weeks, it no longer mattered after only a few hours in the dark. Her body was sore and badly used but she still clung to whatever life remained to her. She kept her wings out of sight and hopefully out of mind. They were the one thing that could be taken that she would truly mourn. Her spirit was born wild and untamed, even now in this cage she could remember the freedom of flight and she holds that someday she might one-day feel the joy again.
The shadows and demons seemed to like the sound of her crying and pleading almost as if it was some kind of twisted music. When all shadows fell and every hope left her, sometimes she would sing softly to herself, only holding on to the last memories. Holding onto hope was treacherous and her grip was never very tight, yet even after all the time she could not let that last thread slip out of her grasp without a fight.
Dannica (Nica for short) did not know who held her captive. From the whispering and occasional visit she knew some dark lord though the power he had suggested maybe even a god. Only a few others shared these dark cells so far underground. By her guess, their life was much worse than hers was. The soldiers never asked anything of her. Seemingly they they were merely content to let her mind break on its own.
Had he come to her ask for her loyalty she might well give it, such a thing was trivial to her. A woman gained her power through a man in this world. If that was the way of life, why not through the most powerful? In such positions there was always competition of others and when fault needs to be tossed it was a likely be passed on the woman but till that point, life could be good. Pain was pain for whatever reason it still left the blood in your mouth and the broken bones to mend.
Maybe she was already mad though in such a place one could never judge herself. What was the difference between sanity and total madness? Submission to another and being your own master? Lines drawn in sand, easily crossed and easily erased or easily moved. A dungeon cell could serve the same purpose as a castle room. Serving a man was a much better position than serving as a whipping pole.
At the moment she sat against the cold wall, it really didn’t matter which wall. They looked all the same in the dark, if you felt around one would have a set of shackles and one a door but the other two, just walls. Down the hall she heard footsteps and so she looked to the wall that she knew the door would be. She wondered if they came for her today or if they were going to make someone else scream.
Her head turned away from the door sharply as it opened, a stream of light flooding the small room. She was temporarily blinded. Flinching away it took a moment before she realized the soldiers were trying to get her to her feet. Standing up, she was not nearly awake but her feet followed after those who lead her. The stairs slowed her down a step but the soldiers were patient enough with her.
They lead her into a room off the top of the stairs. Turning their back on her, she was left confused till she took the time to notice the pitches and basins set on a table at the other end of the room. Stripping slowly, her hands running over the very few marks on her body. Taking her time she washed slowly, making sure to clean all the dirt and blood off her body. Washing her hair with what was left of the water, she marveled on the simple pleasure she had nearly forgotten about in the dark.
Tying her hair back she found the new clothes set aside for her. The skirt barely covered her but the material was softer than the rags of a dress she had been wearing. The fact the skirt revealed as much as it covered her did not bother her nearly as much as the shirt. The shirt was a slaves shirt but slight modification with the back open. Hearing the door open she turned, noticing the soldiers waiting. Pulling on the boots in a hurry she walked over to them. Following one and allowing th other to walk behind her, she had forgotten about being self conscious about the shirt, till she came in sight of him.
Dannica looked him over, being able to truly see him for the first time. She wondered who he was, what he was. The way his men spoke he was a god among men, others only whispered of his skills in battle and a title in the Royal Court. Her eyes had readjusted to the light of day but she found herself appreciating the colors and sight again. She could tell his lips was still slightly swollen from her back hand but it was not even comparable to what he had had done to her. Though she could say none of the pain had left a lasting effect nor had she been violated. Bowing her head, she slowed her approach.
For a moment she wished she had left her hair down so it would cover the scars. His soldiers had not given them a second thought more than the marks of a whip. Something about the way he watched her, told her he would not be so naive. A whip had yet to touch her back and the two scars on her shoulder blades were not constant with a whip. She wondered if he would believe her if she told him that the scars now hid anything, that what he might have sought was already taken. One look in her eyes and he would know she was lying, something like that leaves a deeper scar that does not heal.
Stopping within arms reach of him she knelt down. One knee flat against the stone floor and the other tucked against her chest, in the position of a soldiers bow. Thus far he had treated her as so and she could not see any reason to contradict that. Her head was bowed slightly and her hand lightly touched the floor in a sign of submission, that would not be seen in a warrior. She was not a warrior so much as a survivor.
Choosing not push things, she knew men of her own people did not appreciate being rushed or being asked unneeded questions. A women might be taught to be strong but also how to bow if a man was strong enough. She had proved she did not break easily and thus far he had proved he was at least powerful enough to order others to do the job correctly. Questions of who he was and why she was here ran through her mind. She remembered the raid that had taken her from her home camp and slaughtered many of her people, but she did not recognize the enemy.
