Disclaimer: Warning! This story contains some fetishes that may make some uncomfortable: BDSM, Bondage, and Bloodplay for example. Also this story contains gothic themes such as Vampires, Demons, etc. If this is not for you then hit the back button on your browser now. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy!

-Dannygirl

*

23 YEARS AGO...

David hit the cold stone floor with a sickening thud. The towering walls of this ancient, abandoned castle's courtyard seemed to spin wildly around him as he fought to keep his consciousness. His eyes rested on the sword lying only a few feet from his body, and he reached for it weakly, desperately. Blood dripped down the worried creases of his forehead and over his nose.

The demon stalked slowly towards him, chuckling. This monster, adorned in the skin of the man he had possessed, had killed so many of his fellow hunters, his comrades, his friends... It did so without effort, without remorse, for it possessed psychic abilities that were beyond imagining. There was, truely, no way to stop it.

David's fingers brushed futilely against the hilt of his sword as he struggled to grab onto it. He wasn't about to just lay back and let this thing kill him: He would go down fighting to the very end. Every muscle in his body seemed to be on fire, his every nerve screamed in agony, as much as tried, his body would not let him reach the sword.

"Is this really the best you mortals have to face me?" it gloated. "And you call yourselves hunters? Pathetic."

Just then, with a dreadful tearing noise, a single arrow pierced the heart of the demon: The monster cried out in utter agony, but he did not even fall. The arrow had pierced it from behind, and so it turned around to face the new defender.

"Margaret, no!" David groaned, fighting to lift himself from the floor, but finding himself still too paralyzed with pain and fear. He could not bear the thought of what this demon would do to her, to the woman he loved more than anything else in the world.

She stood in the archway leading into the courtyard. A cold breeze blew through her dark hair as she dropped her crossbow to her side and drew her sword instead. Her deep blue eyes fixated on the demon who was going to kill the man she loved. She could not bear the thought of what she had to do, but anything was better than leaving her beloved David to the horrors of this monster.

"You will not hurt him," she cried out defiantly, despite her body trembling with fear.

"Interesting," the demon grinned, drawing a blade of his own, "now this might be fun."

Margaret swallowed back the dryness in her throat. She could barely lift her own sword her arms quivered so, but one glance at her beloved David lying upon the floor, gasping for air, and her resolve was renewed. She charged forward lifting her sword above her head, and then bringing it down quickly over the demon.

The demon blocked her blow with ease and deftly stepped to the side striking at her with the pommel of his blade. He moved too fast for her to react and he struck her in the back so hard the air was knocked from her lungs.

Her vision flashed with bright white light as she stumbled to the floor, just over her soulmate. Every cell in her body pleaded to give in to the urge to pass out. But she struggled and heaved for air and quickly her vision came back to her.

She could feel the demon slowly coming up behind her and with great effort she pounced to her feet and spun around, twirling the blade around in the air fiercely. The demon had not expected her to recover so quickly and the blow caught him square in the chest.

He wailed as he stumbled back, barely remaining on his feet. One hand shot to his chest and fumbled around in shock, apparently he could not fathom Margaret landing any hits at all. Margaret chewed on her lip nervously as she watched the demon. That strike would've killed any ordinary man, but she knew the demon was far from ordinary. Still, she couldn't help but pray the demon would just lay back and die. It would save her so much trouble...

The thing, as if still in shock, began to laugh wildly, maniacally. His eyes grew large, and Margaret trembled as she looked into them, she could see a sort of blood-lust in them she had not seen in even the hungriest of vampires.

"Impressive," he smiled so wide the corners of his mouth stretched beyond what was normal for a human being. "Now that is more like it."

Margaret gritted her teeth as she raised her sword again, ready to continue the fight. Despite her abject horror, she felt a sort of confidence growing. Perhaps she could do this after all. As if to answer that thought the demon simply disappeared.

The shock was apparent in her face: One moment it was standing not more than 10 feet in front of her, in the middle of the courtyard, the next it was gone. She glanced around rapidly, her eyes searching the courtyard frantically. Then she felt it: Hot breath on her neck, and she realized... It was standing right behind her.

She spun around quickly, swinging the sword as she did before, but this time it caught her blade mid-swing. She gasped as she struggled with both hands to pull the blade from its grasp, but it would not budge. It punched her squarely in the chest and again her vision was hit with a flash of white light. This time even her ears began to ring loudly. She did not realize it right away, but she had fallen to the floor: When her vision returned she gazed upon her beloved David, this time reaching not for his sword but for her hand.

A tear streamed down her cheek as she reached back for him.

The demon laughed over them, his laugh echoing menacingly throughout the courtyard. He cast Margaret's sword aside, then took his own and placed the blade to David's throat. "No, please, don't..." It was all she could do to beg.

"I will tell you what," the demon sneered, "I will not only leave him alive, but I will leave the mortal world in peace, if you, and you alone, agree to my terms, my dear."

Margaret winced. Probably the most important thing she had learned in her long life, growing up an orphan in the church, learning to be a hunter, was simply: Never cut a deal with a demon.

But this was the only way to save David...

"What do you want?" she coughed against the pain in her chest, dreading the answer.

"I want you to bear my child..."

The words struck her deep, every part of her soul went cold. She had known that was coming, but she could not be prepared for it, no matter how much she tried.

"Why?" she seethed, disgust trembling her very soul.

"That is none of your business. Futhermore, I will not promise to leave this mortal coil indefinitely: I will return when the child loses its virginity."

"That's insane!" David yelled out, "why would we doom an innocent child just to have a few short years of reprieve!?"

"If you do not agree to my terms, you will both die here and now. If you do accept my terms it is unlikely you will live my dear," he sneered down to margaret, "if you survive the pregnancy, you will not survive childbirth. But you will save the man you love."

At those words, Margaret's eyes lit up with shock: "Yes, that is right, I could tell the instant I saw you," the Demon chuckled with superiority.

She gulped, her throat becoming very dry again, "I'll..."

"No...Don't..." David groaned, still unable to do anything but watch the events unfold before him.

Margaret clenched her teeth, trying oh so hard to be brave: Her choice was clear, she would do anything to save David. "I'll do it."

The demon lifted Margaret by her hair onto her feet. She groaned with pain as she was pulled onto her feet, and then when he let her go to stand on her legs nearly collapsed from the weight of her limp body, but he grabbed her throat and pushed her back against a cold, rough, stone wall.

Her hands meekly grasped his, struggling futilely against him. Reflexively, she tried to knee him in the crotch, but he brought one hand down to grab her thigh and pull it up, giving his other hand access to her nether-region. He began to rub her through her pants and she gasped, pounding on his chest with balled up fists. Her hands made a sickening thud as they pounded on the blood leaking down from the gaping sword wound.

He pushed her against the wall again with force, growing frustrated with her struggles. "Relax, hunter, I promise you will enjoy this."

With both hands he grabbed either side of her head and wrenched her eyes to meet his. She tried to wrestle her head away but inevitably her eyes met his. As she stared deep into his eyes she felt everything melt away. Her pain, her fear, even her concern for her beloved David. It was all replaced with a growing heat inside her, one that radiated from her pussy and throbbed throughout her entire body.

She felt her cheeks blush hot with blood and with a moan she let her body fall limply against the Demon's. "Forgive me David," she moaned meekly: She felt so ashamed, how could she be letting this thing turn her on so.

With her futile struggles past, the Demon gently pulled her pants down around her ankles, and Margaret complied by kicking them off.

David could bear to watch no more, still unable to lift even a finger to help the woman he loved, he could only curl up into the fetal position, and squeeze his eyes shut.

The demon moved a hand up her back under blouse. His touch was electric, sparking fire throughout her nerves as he grazed them delicately. His soft fingers deftly unclasped her sports bra, and she felt her breasts pop out as if reaching for him, her nipples growing hard with arousal, scratching against the fabric of her blouse.

The demon ran his skilled hand against the back of her neck, under her long black hair, and then drew his lips close to hers. She cursed herself for letting him control her so easily, but she could not help herself: He waited, with his lips so lusciously close to hers, but he did not make the contact, he let her meet him instead, as proof that he had her under his control.

She ran her hands underneath the demon's shirt, his skin was warm, his muscles chiseled. The Demon has possessed a fit and very physically active man it seemed. His skin was sticky with blood but she did not care.

His tongue forked hers in her mouth, its invasion into her oral cavity causing her to moan against the embrace of their lips. She could wait no longer, she desired his skin, and so she broke the kiss to wrestle of his shirt.

She soon found herself staring at the gaping wound in his chest with guilt. She chastised herself for thinking like that, she wanted him dead: how could she forget so easily? The demon obviously understood her gaze, and with a wink he exerted some kind of supernatural power over the body he possessed: The wound quickly began to close with phenomenal healing ability. Margaret smiled, feeling relieved he could heal himself so quickly, whilst a thought echoed in the back of her mind, something resembling terror telling her she should feel only despair that wound she had worked so hard to inflict upon the demon was absolutely nothing to him.

Their lips embraced once again and the demon began to hungrily nibble at her lower lip. His desire for her began to overtake him as he impatiently tore at the buttons on her black blouse. He pulled open her blouse and tore off her bra, leaving her heaving breasts exposed. Then with that same blood-lust in his eyes, which before was hauntingly terrifying, was now hauntingly beautiful to her, he took her breast in his strong, powerful hand and began to suckle at her nipple with his lips gently.

She moaned out loud, his expert touch burned a fire of electricity through her chest that spread down to her pussy, exciting her like nothing ever before. The demon chuckled, how easily these mortals could be controlled. Oh well, they were all slaves to their desires in the end.

He thrust his hard cock, still trapped in the confines of his denim jeans, against her pussy, the moisture seeping off it through her panties. The feel of the light penetration had her screaming out loud, and at the same time the desire to feel it inside of her ripped through her.

He moved his fingers down her pelvis deftly, sliding them under her panties and hooking a finger into her folds deeply. Margaret's breathing quickened at the penetration, involuntarily she grinded her hips against his hand, animal lust looking to expedite her satisfaction.

"Interesting," the demon snickered, "not a virgin after all: I thought all you hunters made some kind of devotion to god." Margaret did not respond, instead only kissing at his neck, her mind lost to the lust. "Oh well, it matters not."

His finger playfully began to rub her clitoris gently, and Margaret nearly came from the shock of it. He was too much an expert to let her climax though, bringing her to the brink and then pulling away teasingly.

At last he tore off her panties and she worked off his pants, revealing his hard member, glistening with the excitement of pre-cum. Even though Margaret had never done anything like this, she could not resist the urge to taste, and so she ran her tongue along his long, solid, shaft. He moaned ever so slightly, smirking down at her with a cocky attitude. Deep down she knew he was controlling her, but she could not summon the desire to fight back.

She enveloped his cock with her mouth, taking it into lips, suckling it, gazing up at the smug bastard above her. He gently rubbed her cheek with one hand as sneered down at her, how sexy she looked with his cock buried in her mouth. Sure, her skills were the result of the spell he cast over her, but never had a conquest felt so good.

When he was satisfied with her mouth, and desired another orifice he took her hand and pulled her up off her knees. As he rammed his cock into her pussy she slammed back against the stone once again and screamed out in joy. He took her rough then, pounding into her harder and harder with each stroke, grunting and groaning with the effort of it.

Margaret felt as if she lost more and more of her sanity with each thrust. He penetrated her more deeply into her innermost folds each time he pounded into her. The warmth that pervaded her body became an icy cold tingling that radiated from her pussy as each thrust of his cock brought her closer and closer to orgasm. She thrust her hips in tune with his, eagerly seeking her satisfaction.

Finally, with a long groan of victory, the demon released his seed into her belly: Margaret could feel the sheer heat of it inside of her. His cum pouring into her, filling her... The sheer sensation of it brought her to climax and she screamed with earth-shattering pleasure.

When he was done with her he let her collapse on the floor. She lay there quivering for the longest time after the Demon receded into the night, not to be seen again until the child he had just implanted in her had lost its virginity. Their combined juices seeping from her stretched nether-lips. Her mind temporarily blank, inebriated by the pleasures he had dealt upon her.

Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she saw David crawling over to her: Tears streaming down his face.

* * *

With a gasp the vision fades and reality hits me like a bag of bricks. My knees feel weak and it takes all of my effort to not fall over. I saw everything through her eyes (and felt everything... I chastise myself for the wetness growing in my panties), Margaret, the woman I somehow, innately, understand was my mother. Understanding hits me, like a second pass of that bag of bricks: Margaret was my mother! And David: The Father who had raised me like his own. I had called him father only because he was the priest, I never understood how much that tile really must have meant to him coming from my lips.

The shock of it all is too much to take in, and I almost forget about my current situation. Davik stands before me, with cocky smile on his lips. Not Davik's cocky smile but.... OH GOD.

"You!" tears well up in my eyes. No, I don't believe this...

His grin grows wider, so unnaturally so it seems to stretch up almost to his eyes.

"You're....my....father...." I know it to be true. He IS my father, my real father. I am the child he conceived.

That night, that amazing first night I met Darrien, and he took me by force, under the stars, by the lake, when I lost my virginity. That had allowed the demon to come back. Somehow, he possessed Davik.

I ask without thinking, the question my mother asked so many years before: "Why?"

"As strong as I am, and I am strong I assure you, for all my power," he pauses, chuckling a little bit, "I am forbidden to remain in this mortal realm, even now my strength wanes here. But you, half-demon, half-mortal, you will be able to see my will is done."

"Like hell I will," I clench my teeth. Okay, so my mother couldn't beat this guy, but she wasn't like me: Half-Demon..... Whoa, okay I need a moment to let that settle in. All these years of wondering what I was, what made me so special, so much stronger, so much faster: In one night all my questions are answered in one crazy vision forced on me by this demon. I cannot accept this, I cannot be... It doesn't matter: I don't care what I am, it's not what I am that defines me, it's my actions, and I'll never become a monster like... I gulp back sticky saliva in my suddenly dry throat: My father.

I draw my sword, and he laughs. "Oh please do, the fight excites me so, just like with your mother..." He draws a sword of his own.

"Is that why... Because she fought you, and it turned you on, you sick freak!?" I yell at him angrily.

He chuckles, "no, no, when she fought me, she proved to me that she was strong enough to bear a child: It's not easy, you know, giving birth to a demon's baby. Any normal woman would die in pregnancy, I needed a woman who would last a bit longer than that. My fetishes are merely a perk."

His last sentence sets off my anger and I run at him my sword brandished in front of me. With a cry of rage and agony I swing my sword violently at him. He blocks the blow, retreating a couple of steps, and I swing again, and again. He blocks each swipe, the exertion showing on his face, fueling my confidence. Maybe I can win after all, my mother was only human, and despite not knowing what I was until tonight, I always knew I was something more.

After what feels like an eternity of furious fighting, Each of us exchanging strikes, he takes one last swing at me. This one is too close to the mark and I'm just barely able to dodge it, leaping backwards off my feet and hitting the ground. I roll quickly and then jump back onto my footing.

"Impressive," his breathing is ragged, though I suppose so is mine: The battle is every bit as tense as when I fight Darrien. "But you are my daughter after all. As fun as this is, I am afraid I must end this now, I am short on time."

I grin, my ego still inflated, "you're welcome to try." With that I charge at him again. I'm suddenly struck by some invisible force, however, and sent flying off my feet and landing hard on the ground on my back. I try to recover but whatever it is that struck me holds me down. I'm barely able to crane my head enough against the power to see the demon standing over me with a hand outstretched and a wide grin on his face. Oh great, apparently he's psychic: I suppose I severely overestimated my chances.

"Relax, my daughter," he gloats, "I promise you will enjoy this."

And with that he hits me again even harder with his psychic abilities. The last thing I feel before blacking out is the back of my head hitting the cold, hard ground.