Chapter 1
Seraphina Atwood trudged down the quiet halls of the Academy of Arcane Arts, each step echoing the silence of the summer break. Most students had left for home, but Seraphina had stayed behind, taking on tasks around the academy to make some extra money. She didn't expect her life to change in these empty corridors, but fate had other plans. That evening, under the cold watch of the Sorcerer's Spire, she was violently assaulted by Ulysses Pendragon, the archmage and uncontested ruler of the Kingdom of Arcadia. The experience was harrowing, but what frightened her most was the secret she had uncovered during her ordeal—the hidden machinations behind Ulysses’ power. Fearing for her safety, Seraphina had no choice but to comply when Ulysses demanded she became his personal apprentice. In practice, this meant she was bound to him as a slave, both in body and spirit. Stripped of her dignity and innocence, Seraphina had to navigate the complexities of her new position. To her surprise, she discovered that engaging in depraved acts could be a shortcut to power. The cruel irony was that Ulysses, with all his wealth and influence, introduced her to Lord Cedric, an aristocrat with deep pockets and an even deeper interest in tragic beauty. Seraphina became entangled in a web of scandal and sorcery, her life marked by endless nights of debauchery and the occasional plot twist that even her violated heart could scarcely handle. It was a sordid life, driven by primal desires and punctuated by moments that would haunt her forever. Through it all, Seraphina held on to a flicker of hope, a whisper of defiance against the darkness enveloping her world. Her journey in the Realm of the Sorcerers was just beginning, a dark fairy tale unfolding under the indifferent stars.
Chapter 2
Everything took a turn on that stormy day. Dark clouds rolled in, lightning crackled through the sky, and thunder rumbled ominously. It seemed that all stories marked by change were destined to unfold in such tempestuous weather—Seraphina Atwood's life would prove no exception. At the pinnacle of the Academy of Arcane Arts stood the Archmage's Tower, a revered sanctuary for sorcerers across the realm. In the center of the master bedroom, atop a Grand Canopy Bed, lay Clarence Hawthorne, the Archmage, whose age was as elusive as his motives. Once known as the kingdom's only Grand Sorcerer and one of the strongest in the world, he was enveloped in a shadow of power and influence that few dared to challenge. He was now using that power to exploit a student. Clarence possessed a strikingly handsome face, with long lashes framing piercing blue eyes and a strong, aristocratic nose. His thin, slightly curved lips, coupled with tousled brown curls cascading over his shoulders, gave him the appearance of a brooding prince. But on this day, those once-serious eyes held a dangerous glint, filled with an oppressive sort of authority. The victim of his cruelty was sixteen-year-old Seraphina Atwood, a first-year student who had just moments earlier been organizing books in the academy's library. In a cruel twist of fate, she found herself pinned to the bed, struggling against the man who wielded authority she had always respected. Despite her relatively unimposing stature—her greenish eyes and rough, sun-kissed skin often overlooked—once stripped of her magical disguise by Clarence's ruthless spell, Seraphina’s lake-blue irises and sunlit golden hair emerged, revealing an ethereal beauty that could easily outshine any of the academy's renowned beauties. As Clarence tore at Seraphina's clothes, she felt vulnerable yet undeniably shaped, even as her body was still developing. She represented a rare gem—a Ulysses Pendragon, coveted for her untouched innocence and immense magical potential, a perfect offering to the dark sorcerers who longed for power. The black and gold robe of the Grand Sorcerer, typically a symbol of wisdom and dignity, was now used to bind her low-ranking student robes. With effortless force, he ripped her garments into shreds, discarding them alongside his own ornate robe, which magically returned to its place in the wardrobe as if nothing had transpired. Confusion and fear flickered in Seraphina's eyes. She could hardly grasp the situation as she instinctively struggled against his overwhelming might—the strength of the seemingly frail sorcerer was terrifying, pinning her like a mountain of steel, leaving her helpless beneath him. But even that was not enough to satisfy Clarence. "Such disobedience," he mused, his voice smooth yet laced with a chilling arrogance. The cold indifference in his tone held a menace that was palpable. He intoned a spell under his breath, causing invisible bonds to encircle her arms and legs, forcibly spreading them apart in a helpless "X". The only movement she could muster was that of her head, a tormenting reminder of her constraints. "Master, what do you want… don’t do this… please," Seraphina pleaded, tears welling in her captivating eyes, each drop reflecting the fear and desperation of her plight. Clarence ignored her cries, tightening his grip on her chin, leaning down until his lips were merely breaths away from hers, dark intentions dancing in his eyes as he forced her to part her lips in submission.
Chapter 3
His tongue surged into her mouth, fiercely sucking on her lips. His movements were skilled, swirling around her tongue, brushing against her palate, sending shivers of sensation coursing through her. The wet sounds of their lips meeting were shockingly lewd, and the occasional clash of teeth echoed, highlighting the strength of his desire, as if he were not simply kissing her, but trying to consume her whole. There was no need for him to restrain her limbs; his hands were already busy at work. Her dress was reduced to tattered scraps, hanging pitifully from her arms. The complex corset couldn’t withstand his aggressiveness and was violently torn away, revealing her still-young yet perfectly formed breasts. His hand, which had been gripping her chin, now mercilessly kneaded and toyed with her breasts, while his other hand continued to rip at her clothing, determined to shred it into pieces even though it had long since become unfastened. When he finally released her lips, Seraphina's chin bore the mark of his grip, a deep crimson bruise, her lips swollen and bruised from his relentless kisses. His biting cascaded down her neck and collarbone, coaxing high-pitched protests from her, “Stop. Please, don’t do this.” “While watching you struggle is entertaining, your constant disapproval is quite the buzzkill.” Clarence Hawthorne continued to knead her breasts, having just tossed the last remnants of her corset aside. He made a gesture with his hand and whispered, “Entice.” “No!” Seraphina let out a shriek, twisting her head away as her mental energies surged, weaving a thin veil of defense around her. But nothing could stop the wicked spell, glowing with an alarming red light, from settling over her, even as she fought to remain aware and lucid amidst his advances. “You’ve learned a few tricks. You can even repel my magic now.” Clarence narrowed his eyes, a hint of violet swirling in the depths, as he brutally pinched her breast, causing it to swell—painfully both numb and sensitive. “But that just makes it more fun...” Tears glimmered in Seraphina's eyes—was this fortune or misfortune? She had escaped the horror of being violated while unconscious, yet was left grappling with wave after wave of seductive pressure, desperately clinging to her awareness as his hands continued their invasion. In the face of his almost beast-like appetite, her cries of refusal came out weak and strained, barely audible beneath the haze of enchantment. Yes, not just kisses but bites—his teeth gripping her skin and tearing with roughness, leaving a metallic taste in the air. Blood began to ooze from her neck, trailing down toward her breasts. It seemed he relished his punishments, lingering over her modest yet firm curves, playing her sensitive spots as if they were instruments of torture. He sank his teeth into her bright, blood-engorged nipple, leaving a mark of his aggression behind. The crimson droplets that flowed were quickly met by his disdain, as he would rip away the scabs, coaxing more blood to surface. The cycle continued, marking her with countless bites, each one feeding into his sadistic delight. “Please, stop biting... stop squeezing... it hurts... oh, it hurts...” Her tear-streaked cries only fueled his excitement. Seraphina, battered by both pain and enchantment, could barely keep her eyes focused through the haze. Her gaze flickered toward his sculpted, powerful body, now bared and pressing into her, the heat of him grinding rhythmically against her restrained softness, her delicate form yielding helplessly yet yearningly beneath his weight.
Chapter 4
"You think you can survive my play?" With her legs spread wide, Seraphina's intimate area was fully exposed. Try as she might to close them, it was impossible. Her delicate flesh was laid bare, the small bud in the center becoming his target. Clarence pinched it cruelly, and Seraphina gasped, her mouth forming an 'O' as a cry escaped, "Ah...mm..." Her gasp was stifled when he pushed his now slick fingers, coated with her essence, into her mouth. "Taste yourself. How does it feel? You make me want to ravage you." The seductive words seemed to invade her mind, clouding her thoughts. Seraphina could only feel his hands manipulating her, fingers teasing her sensitive areas and pinching her nub, forcing helpless moans from her throat. Moisture pooled from her narrow entrance, dampening the sheets beneath and releasing an intoxicating scent. "How does that feel?" Clarence whispered against her ear, his breath hot as he nibbled on her earlobe. His grip on her sensitive bud tightened, sending sharp, unbearable waves of pain and unfamiliar, electrifying pleasure through her. The shame of the invasive sensation made it hard for her to comprehend anything. Suddenly, a spurt of liquid escaped her entrance, wetting his fingers. "It hurts... please, let me go... I beg you... let me go," she whimpered, her body instinctively trying to move away from his cruel touch, but it was useless. "If I let you go now, it will hurt even more," he murmured into her ear, continuing to suck on her earlobe. Clarence's hand remained relentless, toying with her nub, probing her tight entrance and trying to penetrate deeper. The continuous flow of her essence made her shiver uncontrollably, her body unable to handle the overpowering sensations. Her sobs intensified in their desperation. With one finger inside her, he couldn't resist the opportunity, pushing in further. The mere intrusion of a single knuckle made her cry out in pain. "Just one knuckle and you're this tight. Do you think you'll survive if I go all the way?" He moved his finger within her, and without waiting for her to adjust, a second finger joined, forcing its way inside. The pain was overwhelming, leaving her gasping for breath. "You're too tight. If I went in now, you'd be in agony. Since I care for both your life and my pleasure, you need to be stretched. Does this old fool not have the right tools? You're the first woman in his life, after all. You should feel honored." Clarence didn't really care how much pain Seraphina felt or whether she could endure it. His fingers twisted and explored inside her, heightening her arousal just enough to benefit him. "If you don't loosen up, I'm going to die of frustration." His arousal was evident, pressing insistently against her, thick and hot. The sensation was far too much for her underdeveloped body to handle, making her tremble with the unfamiliar fear.
Chapter 5
--- Seraphina Atwood's senses had been overwhelmed by a mix of enchantment and desire, yet despite this, she couldn't suppress the sheer terror coursing through her veins. The sight of Clarence Hawthorne's imposing form only exacerbated the fear. She knew her delicate body would utterly fail to handle what he intended to impose on her. But Clarence was unyielding. When he deemed that she was ready to give him satisfactory pleasure, he thrust himself upon her without hesitation. Her untouched, virginal depths had never been opened, and they now resisted desperately. The narrow entrance guarded her internal sanctuary fiercely. But Clarence, devoid of any compassion, relentlessly drove himself into her, every forceful attempt eliciting a scream of agony from Seraphina. The pain managed to cut through the enchantment's haze, and Seraphina found herself begging through tears, "No, please, this can't go on. Archmage, I'm begging you, let me go." He remained unmoved. From the moment he kidnapped her, showing her mercy had never been a consideration. He wasn't penetrating. How could he not penetrate? Clarence's handsome face twisted into a sadistic smile. With brute strength, he forced his fingers to break through her defenses, stretching the delicate folds brutally. His massive manhood finally began to push into her. "Aah! It hurts," Seraphina cried out, her tears flowing freely. The pain was beyond anything she had imagined, a searing, unbearable agony as though someone had chiselled a gaping hole in her most private part. It was unlike any other pain she had ever felt, especially in such an intimate, sensitive area. Undeterred by her suffering, Clarence continued to forge a path through her without care, forcing his engorged member into her. As the head of his shaft pushed inside, her tiny entrance stretched painfully. Blood welled up, providing ghastly lubrication, and slowly, torturously, more of him entered her. Seraphina's tight confines tried to fight off the invader, the rough texture causing excruciating friction against her tender walls. The massive difference in size made her feel as if she were being torn apart. She couldn't even scream anymore as he stifled her cries. The intense pain left her face contorted in misery, her strength drained to the point where she could only manage feeble whimpers. There were helpless sobs mixed with the foam and drool spilling from her lips. Tears streamed down her face like a broken string of pearls. At intervals, bitter sobs escaped her, some tears even finding their way into her mouth. The briny taste on his tongue made Clarence finally relinquish his brutal grip on her lips. However, Seraphina was left scarcely able to form coherent words. The most she could manage was weak, pleading sobs, the sound of her heart breaking resonating in every cry. At last, the Archmage showed a hint of mercy and withdrew the binding spell that kept her legs spread. Instinctively, she tried to close her legs to push him away, but all she could do was wrap them tightly around his waist. Her body's involuntary contractions only pulled him deeper, making him want to roar with satisfaction. Each brutal thrust felt like he would drive her into the very bed beneath them. ---
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