A Year in the Life of Corrine Cotnor

She had hired the best masons in the business, carefully choosing a crew that was known for its discretion and quality. Discretion cost extra, but she was willing to pay whatever it took. Her plans were complex, and required many moving parts to fit together at exactly the right moments. The administrative overhead would be overwhelming to a weaker willed person. But Lady Cotnor has resources unknown to the common man...or, even, most people just in general. She was very secretive, was her Ladyship, and kept her personal wealth secreted away from her husband, or anybody else for that matter. She drove them hard, but allowed them their debauchery as well, so the men were content enough. One of them was even quiet and organized; one 'Klaarf'. She had the perfect job for him, later. When the ritual was nearing completion and needed an exacting hand. Her Ladyship had concocted a powdery substance the men could snort that would give them extra strength and energy, albeit with a bit of background anxiety. It was distributed by her faceless servant, who would stalk from place to place like a living scarecrow. He would be, more often than not, carrying a box stocked with powders, potions and poisons galore.
It was important to keep the men motivated, and she had always found that simple honey enticed the lowbrow and uneducated to work harder than vinegar of any kind. At least at first. So she waxed poetic about how much Juss would love his retreat way out here in the wilderness. About how the work crews were patriots, doing the work of the people and all that. Invoking patriotism also seemed to get these work gangs to put in a little more effort, which was pretty convenient for her, in her position as High Queen of The Unified Kingdoms of Craysilt! Of course, these men had no idea who she was, and she was going to keep it thataway. She was just some noblewoman, to these peasants. All the better. Soon, the comments about her figure began, and she felt a stirring she had not experienced in a long time. She would be sure to walk past a particular crew most days she was present on the job site, which was a lot because she was running this secret project herself. She would flaunt her otherworldly beauty, basking in the attention she received. She was aware of, and subtly encouraged, all of the crassness and vulgarity. It was something that was unallowed in her 'normal' life, and it quickened her desire for carnal intimacy. She had begun having Jenkins, her construct servant, walk through the work area with his medicine box more and more often, reporting everything it heard or saw.
One day, when it was raining ice so hard that the men could not work on the scaffolding safely no matter how well it was built, Her Ladyship performed a vulgar ritual to consecrate this land to her Patron that left her panting, sweaty, and angrily concupiscent. She summoned her groom and rode her horse hard for the work camp, her desire mounting until it was nearly unbearable as the huge animal pulsed beneath her. Compliant to her commands. A buzzing in her ears was growing louder and louder, and she cried out, partly in ecstasy and partly in acute and painful lasciviousness. She pulled the animal up hard in front of their hovel, and sashayed into the men's sleeping area with barely restrained desire compelling her. "I require the foreman of this operation. Immediately," she said in her best impression of the loudest of the construction workers.
She marched Mikka the Foreman out of the shack and told him she required the use of one "Chaaley" for the evening. The look on Mikka's face was priceless. The combination of terror and curiosity only piqued her loins even further. She began panting, almost like an animal, her shapely chest heaving like it was aching for one to come and caress it. Anyone. Mikka the Foreman backed away quickly, even as his manhood reacted to the palpable waves of sensuality coming off of her. She smiled at his reaction, looking at him like he was a morsel to eat...perhaps an appetizer... Mikka quickened his pace and disappeared into the hovel they all slept in together like a den of mice.
Chaaley emerged, haltingly, from the shack, doing his best to smooth back his hair and grin confidently. She took him back to her campsite, and then took him in many ways he was unfamiliar with, Content Warning

and often quite scared of. By the end of the night, he had been beaten senseless, choked out, drugged, emotionally abused, and repeatedly molested.
Often painfully.
His left arm would never be the same. She battered more than his body, he knew. She had been tasting his very essence. She had consumed some vital piece of him, some part of what made Chaaley "Chaaley", and at the end of the night, when morning began to peep through the leaves, she completed her ritual and let the man release. She was panting again, but now in naked satiety. Chaaley was curled up into a ball nearby, rocking back and forth and looking at her with the hopeless eyes of a street urchin.

She laughed at him, which felt good for her and helped her finish her own release as she discarded his useless husk and dismissed Chaaley with a curt wave.

---

It took all of two and a half years to finish the outer and load bearing structures. Then, once she had chosen a dozen or so of the craftsmen to build her secret inner sanctum, she brought them together under the newly finished roof of the tower, and swore them to secrecy. The artisans did not know it, but they had just entered into a pact with a demon lord. They died off one by one, but the others were too dazed and weary to notice. They built switchbacks, and custom rooms layered with enchantments that they read from a scroll she had given them. She had them build a luxurious suite of apartments with spells of warding, and destruction, should they ever be breached. A man-sized iron cage was built within. Her Ladyship said it was for a tiger, but the two remaining living workers knew better. They just could not care. Their jaws had gone slack, and saliva ran from their mouths freely. A side effect of the spores she had exposed them to, she supposed.
The tower's defences were indeed impressive, and they were nearly finished when Her Ladyship showed up at the tower with a tall, affable young man. She smiled at him, fabricating a friendly, motherly tone, and ushered him upwards. Ever upwards, to the very top of the tower. To the suite of rooms that had been finished just in time for the last workman to die of her vile ensorcellments.
Great timing!