The villain

>Despite everything, you've done it. The witch's machinations are at an end. You've got her at sword point. And yet, she smiles. She knows something you don't.
>She tells you she's not afraid. Because she knows what you dream of at night. What you long for yet dare not tell anyone else. You start to sweat, ever so slightly.
>All that time training. Meditating. Praying. Purifying and cleansing yourself of earthly desires. Didn't it make you wonder why others would chose to sin?
>Her fingers, with long, sharp nails, trail down to the low cut hem of her dress. Slowly, she starts to pull it apart.
>The elders were fools to send you to kill her. They built their own doom, and did not know it.
>Because she can offer you so much more than the chastity and endless kowtowing the church and its elders offer. She opens her mouth, and a tongue that reaches down to her chin slowly slides up, gently flitting across the tip of your sword in a dance that makes you wonder what it would be like against you.
>She has seen your dreams, your sinful thoughts. All you need do is to magically swear fealty to one another, and the realm will have a Dark King as well as a Queen.
>Your sword clatters against the floor. She hisses in carnal delight. Her hands at your belt, feverishly pulling you out. Sucking, slurping. Feasting.
>You think you're going to like being bad.
>Months later, as the former princess, blindfolded and broken, giggles on her hands and knees, eagerly sucking you off while you sit on her former throne, your Queen strokes your chest and purrs in your ear.
>She's so proud of you. So delighted to have found someone she can savor the fruits of wickedness with. Her hand traces down your chest as she leans in with that devilishly long tongue of hers, and kisses you.
>Her free hand grips the princess' hair, face-fucking the addled little slut onto you as she purrs into your mouth.
>The pangs of guilt come less and less frequently now, and the ranks of the royal harem swell with slaves taken from the ranks of the peasants who've dared to try and oppose you and your Queen.
>She delights in seeing them slowly submit, breaking them for you into little more than living toys to milk your cock.
>When you retire to the royal bedchamber at night, she places the former king's crown upon your head, and pins your hands at your side as she rides you.
>She hisses that she expects an heir from you. A strong one. A fierce one. A son or daughter who will be worthy of the legacy you've built together.
>Her hips are merciless. Even after youve cum in the deepest part of her, she doesn't relent, thrusting until the pleasure and pain melt together into a deliriously wonderful and torturous experience that leaves you sweating and happily exhausted.
>Your seed slowly leaks out of her to stain the bedsheets of the former royal family. They promised you their daughter's hand when you defeated the witch and restored the kingdom. Instead, you damned the kingdom to evil and depravity, and claimed the princess' mouth and soul instead.
>You smirk as you drift off to sleep, ready to repeat the same foul debauchery the next day. You made the right choice.