Slave To The Demon

by Ruby McKenzie

  Skriker was silent for a moment. “Oh—holy shit. Wait a minute. Haven’t you ever?”

  “No,” she whimpered, her fingers scrabbling against the glistening tile wall. Her heart was pounding like a frightened rabbit’s; she had tensed when she felt his cock poised for entrance at a completely different doorway than what she had expected. His voice came again from behind her, utterly puzzled.

  “You mean…never?”

  Rose glanced over her shoulder and stared up at him, strings of wet black hair hanging in her eyes. “Never,” she said, firmly, and the look that blossomed on his face was priceless. He looked as if he had just glimpsed Heaven: blissful, and exceedingly happy. He smirked at her boyishly, and she found herself amazed to see him almost glowing. It may have been the sauna-like heat of the shower, but something told her otherwise.

  “You’re a virgin,” Skrike said softly. “You are an anal virgin, Rose. I’ll be your first.”

  Rose felt her heart melt for the hundredth time since they had begun this whole sticky adventure together—yes, he would be her first for anal sex. A “first time” for her to share with him, so very special. But, dammit, she was scared. His cock was massive—Hell, it was mastodonic. The thought of it cramming its way into her petite virgin asshole almost made her feel faint. “I…I can’t,” she squeaked.

  Skriker, still beaming, nodded. “Yes, you can, baby. Believe me, you can. You’re a Nephil, you can take it like a soldier.”

  “No, I can’t. Can’t! You’re too fucking big. You are insane if you think that you’re going to fit that monster—”

  Skriker’s eyes glittered like green ice, and she promptly shut up. She could see how much he wanted this. Oh, yes, he wanted this so badly that he was having trouble holding back. She knew that he would never really force her, never hurt her unless she wanted it and would be pleased by it. But she knew him well, he wanted so much to bury himself in this last bit of her flesh that was still untouched by any man and claim it for his own, and she could not deny that she wanted it, too. But, holy shit, he was so goddamned big!

  “You won’t fit, Skrike!” she practically wailed, and he leaned over her; the head of his cock bumped between her ass cheeks and she sucked in her breath, wincing.

  “You want it, Angel,” he breathed. He slipped two fingers into her wet cunt and oh, God, it was delicious. She moaned softly, grinding back against his hand as he buried his digits deep inside her, coating them thoroughly with her juices. After a moment, he withdrew them, sticky-wet, and smeared the tight blossom of her ass with pussy juice, lubricating it. As he wet her down, he wriggled the tip of one finger into the tiny puckering hole and she bucked, moaning.

  By God, it felt good. Damn good. Good in the way that one could merge pain and pleasure so organically that the two seemed seamless.

  “You can, Angel,” he said softly, his voice just audible under the pounding of the shower water, and she believed him. He massaged her asshole lightly, sensually, and Rose felt it begin to relax, its puckering tightness opening for her lover—for any lover—for the very first time.

  “Do you withdraw your safety word, slave?” he called out; as he spoke she felt the very tip of his cock press against the gently opening orifice.

  A sweet thought blew through her mind. I’m losing my virginity to you, Skriker. Perhaps not in all ways, but…oh, how glad I am. This is for you, honey. Take me, take me. I am your willing slave .“Yes,” she breathed. “Please…Master. I want it.”

  Skriker’s eyes didn’t flinch from hers. “You’re a dirty fucking whore, Rose.”

  “I know.”

  “But only for me.”

  She saw a twinkling in his gaze, and she loved being his whore, now more than ever.

  “Take me,” she all but pleaded.

  At those words, he splayed her firm high ass cheeks with both hands, planting the tip of his cock at her virgin entrance. He spit a thick wad of saliva and it landed right where cock met ass; he slicked it onto her opening, massaging, helping it to relax as he rubbed the rest of his spit along his shaft.

  “Brace yourself, Angel,” he breathed, and pushed his cock against her little pink star, using his thumb to help work the big head, past the muscular opening of her ass. Rose bucked wildly as the fat knob pushed completely in; she let out an agonized squealing as her tight sphincter clamped fully down around the head. There was a searing pain as he pushed deeper in, and she screamed and jerked, her fingers clawing at the wet tiles as she squirmed against him. Through the pain, she felt him reach below her cock-plugged ass and finger her pussy, and the agony that raged through her body was matched by more insane pleasure. The combination was almost euphoric; suddenly she felt herself pressing back against him, her butthole relaxing, opening, letting him in.

  “Master!” she wailed, choking on her words as if they were stones. “F-f-fuck me! Fuck me!”

  Skriker continued to toy with her slit, caressing and fingering her, rubbing her slippery fluids over the bud of her clit until he had eased a large portion of his cock into her ass. Slowly, he pulled back again, inch by agonizing inch until only the head remained planted inside her.

  Rose jerked back against him, tossing her head like a rearing mare. “Yes!” she cried. “Oh…fuck! Fuuck!”

  That seemed to be his clue to go full-bore. Still spreading her cheeks with his left hand, he dug the fingers of his right into her soaking hair, wrapping the thick cords of her tresses around his wrist as a rider might grip a horse’s reigns, and thrust forward, sinking almost ten inches of thick gristle into Rose’s most private hole.

  “Yesss!” he bellowed. “Oh, Jesus, fuck—you are so goddamned tight! Ohh, yeaahh…”He fucked her with a brutal intensity, jerking her back against him, and soon the shower was filled with the sound of his hips slapping against the hard wet globes of her ass cheeks.

  Rose’s asshole spasmed around his shaft as he pounded into her, groaning out his pleasure and his joy, making deep-throated unh sounds as he worked her blossoming hole. Rose began to scream in a delirious mingling of pain, pleasure, and rollicking lust, delighting in the gift she was sharing with her dearest love.

  Soon, Skriker had released her hair and was plunging his fingers into her cunt again, pulsing and circling them inside her swollen lips as he bucked into her second orifice, his hips rising and falling with brutal hardness, grinding his dick deep into her until, finally, she came.

  Came without permission.

  Skriker paused in his rutting, pulling out of her with a sudden meaty pop! Rose cried out in disappointment, and he responded by spanking the living shit out of her, leaving her quivering against the shower wall. “I know, Sir,” she whimpered. “I wasn’t given permission. Forgive me, sir. Please?”

  Skriker slapped her right ass cheek one more time, and then massaged both muscular globes with his palms, lightly caressing the taut wet flesh. He jerked her upright with one hand and wrapped that arm around her torso, his hand gripped around her collared throat, pressing his mouth against her ear as he held her against his chest.

  “Have you learned, slave?” he breathed, still lightly caressing her ass cheeks with his free hand, and she nodded, gulping. “Good. Now, what does my Angel slave want? Tell me…and carefully choose an answer that will please me.”

  Rose swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, closing her eyes. She shivered against him, her heart hammering against her breastbone, and he flicked the very tip of his tongue into her ear. Oh, this was exquisite. Her asshole throbbed, gaping from the pounding he'd administered, and yet she wanted more…so much more. “I want my Demon Master to pound my ass some more,” she pleaded. She reached down and rubbed her clit, and he slapped her ass harder, making the flesh sting and burn.

  “Worthless slave, touching yourself when I did not give you permission,” he hissed, shoving her over and twisting her arms around behind her back. He pinned them in place with one big hand, restraining her in an iron grip. “Spread your legs, bitch. Wid
er.”

  Rose obeyed, and when he reentered her ass, the pain was like wildfire. He stretched her to gaping, his cock swelling to full girth, and Rose sank her teeth into her bottom lip, swallowing the screams that bubbled up in her throat.

  “What do you want, Angel?” he roared, and she felt him tense behind her, the signal that she should obey and speak…fast.

  “I w-want you to c-cuh-come in meee!” Rose screamed, and she felt him buck one last hard time and spurt. He let out a roar that seemed to shake the space in which they were enclosed, rattling the shower doors and she felt her own final orgasm tear through her like a fiery plume.

  Something happened, something unexpected. The glass shower doors trembled hard, literally rattled as if shaken by a massive earthquake, and two huge blasts of light—one blinding white, one fiery orange—bloomed outward from their mingled bodies. It was tiny compared to the power each was capable of, but it was enough to drive huge cracks though the tempered glass and send the doors shattering outward, blowing glittering pebbles across Skriker’s spotless tile floor. The bathroom lights above the sink flickered violently and then popped, one by one, blasting more glass across the dual sinks, countertops, and floor.

  Skriker released Rose and she collapsed forward, sinking down onto the wet shower floor in a huddle, water pattering down onto her, turning her hair into a dark web that streaked over her long hard body. She stared up at Skriker, who was still standing over her, panting, his skin literally steaming as if he had briefly been submerged in fire. His eyes were flickering orange, and as they cooled, he glanced down at his relaxing cock. Rose’s eyes followed his gaze.

  The massive organ was streaked with blood. Rose shivered, despite the shower’s heat, and closed her eyes.

  They remained closed, even when she heard him turn off the shower, felt him lift her up and wrap her in a towel. She felt herself carried from the bathroom, listening to the clinks of glass bits being pushed aside as Skriker picked his way across the floor, and in a few moments, she was being laid on his sofa in the living room. She blinked her eyes open and saw him standing over her, smiling down at her in the soft daylight shining in from the windows.

  He looked beautiful, and innocently happy. “Thank you, Rosie,” he whispered.

  “I’m sorry about your bathroom,” she mumbled. Her brutalized ass throbbed, but somehow, it felt wonderful. “I didn’t mean to….”

  Skriker laughed softly, shaking his head. “Could care less, baby. I’ll fix everything. What you just gave me…I’m…overwhelmed.”

  Rose smiled tiredly and shifted; she felt a trickle of something come from her ass, a thin mixture of blood and semen—drizzle out and stain the towel beneath her. “I think I just wrecked your designer linen, too.”

  “You wrecked nothing. You rest here. Sleep a while. I’m gonna go clean everything up. When I come back, I’ll get you into a nice bath and pamper you a bit. ‘Kay?”

  Rose sighed and snuggled down into the plump soft cushions of the sofa. “Mmm,” she mumbled, closing her eyes again. “Okay.” She rolled gently onto her side and drifted almost instantly into sleep. At first, she did nothing more than float through warm pitch-black night, and then, in that primordial darkness, she began to dream.

  She was walking through high dead grass beneath ebony thunderheads scudding across a steel-colored sky. She was clothed for the hunt: leather and chrome, her long hair partially bound up, the sword her father had long ago taught her to wield strapped across her long back. A high chill wind moaned like a wounded beast through the blackened skeletons of trees that peppered the bleak landscape, and the air was electric with the scent of oncoming lightning.

  The leaning silhouette of a small building broke the monotony of the landscape just ahead of her, and she headed toward it. She drifted through the field, broken yellowed grass whispering against her leathered legs, her boots crunching over dead leaves and blackened twigs. As she neared the decaying structure, she found herself walking into an ancient churchyard, crossing the threshold through a broken and gaping iron fence.

  The rotting stone building at its far northern end was what once had been a chapel, now a leaning decayed shadow of itself, its steeple lightning-twisted and blackened where it stabbed crookedly toward the dark sky. The wind moaned tremblingly, a mourning lover winding through the high straw grasses, and the bell that still hung crookedly in the tower of the chapel clanked despondently in the dead afternoon light.

  She stopped dead in her tracks at the entrance to the churchyard; something here terrified her, in a peculiarly tragic way. She began to retreat, and yet her feet inescapably carried her forward. The sadness in this place was crippling; it nearly brought her to her knees—“No,” Rose mumbled, jerking, and Skriker’s hand stroked gingerly across her forehead, brushing strands of her now-dry hair back from her eyes.

  “No what, Rosie?”

  She blinked and gazed up at him, standing over her. He was wearing jeans but his torso remained bare, and his inked skin shimmered in the light, which by now had begun to sink into afternoon.

  “Nothing. I was—dreaming.”

  He crouched down on the floor beside the couch and caressed her lightly, his hands moving over her skin as lightly as a feather. “I know we’re still playing,” he said softly. “But did I hurt you too much, honey? That being your first time and all…it kind of changes the rules a bit.”

  Rose shook her head and smiled; seeing him here like this made her feel so warm inside.

  “No, you didn’t. It was wonderful. Is the bathroom done?”

  He smirked charmingly. “Yeah. All tidy. We’re shit out of luck on the shower for a while, but baths are nice, too. I’ll have that fixed later. You really showed some angelic appreciation for me there, baby.”

  Rose giggled. “And you, some demonic appreciation for my virgin ass. We’re dangerous, aren’t we, Skrike?”

  “You bet. Let me care for you a little, okay?”

  She blinked and cocked her head; little did she realize that her expression was the female mirror image of her father, as angelic as ever. “How else will I serve you?” she whispered, and he shook his head, chuckling.

  “No more serving me, Angel. Not until tomorrow. What you gave me today was beyond what I could have dreamed of asking for. Tonight will be your night, so long as you know that tomorrow it’s all about me spanking your ass again. You still owe me two more days. Is the deal still on?”

  He winked at her, and she smiled. “You bet.”

  “Can you walk?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. I have something nice in the bathroom for you.”

  She got up slowly, wincing; her ass hurt, and the towel she had been lying on for the last few hours was stained with blood and cum. She picked it up and followed him gingerly into the bedroom, tossing the soiled linen into his laundry hamper as they walked through. In the bathroom, everything had been swept clean and re-tidied. Not a speck of glass could be found, and all of the light bulbs above the sink had been replaced. Only the shower looked odd with its glassless doors and walls, looking like an empty tiled box in the corner of the room.

  The bathtub was full of sparkling suds, and the steam that rose slowly from the water smelled divine, like vanilla and orange and softly sensual musk. A scattering of small votive candles flickered along the edge of the sink and Rose sighed with pleasure.

  Skriker helped her step into the tub and she settled in with a small groan of pleasure, feeling the warm softly scented waters soothe her brutalized skin. She lay back and watched him kick off his jeans and slip into the tub beside her; thankfully, it was a huge tub, and both of them fit rather nicely.

  She moved so that he could slide in behind her, and she nestled back against him, settling her rump between his legs; she could feel his rod pushing up against her back, and it seemed to twitch a bit in expectation, but he made no move to slip it anywhere. Rose lay back against him, resting her head just under his jaw; he kissed the top of her h
ead and she giggled lightly. His hands came up and cupped her breasts, rubbing suds into them, and she sighed in sweet bliss. She snuggled further down into the balmy water, pushing back against him as he caressed her tits, soaping them, making her nipples rise and tingle.

  “You like that, sweetness?” he murmured against her neck.

  “Mmm…yes,” she sighed. “Don’t stop. That feels so damned good.” She pushed back against him, arching her bosom high against his caress, and it felt as though she wanted to absorb into him, become some kind of beautiful mingling of God and the Devil. Something flashed through her mind—a disjointed memory of something Skriker had said a while back on a hunt, maybe I do want a family. It left her wondering.

  “I think I’m blissfully happy right now, Rosie,” her demon lover murmured behind her as his tattooed hands moved with sweet abandon over her body. “You know, I’ve had tons of pussy in my life. Tons. I mean, I couldn’t count—”

  Rose smirked, a little bitterly. “I know, Skrike. You’ve laid more pipe than what’s contained under New York City.”

  He laughed softly, a mildly hoarse chuckle that made her body tingle with anticipation—even his laugh was sexy. “Yeah. And a lot of it was really good, especially with two or three girls working me at once. But they say that when you’re in love with your One and Only, it’s a hundred thousand times better than some regular sport fuck. And you know what? They’re right. Fancy that, eh?”

  Rose giggled and blushed, her scars standing out against her rosy cheeks. “How sweet of you to say. You’ve never fallen in love before me?”

  She felt him shrug. “Yeah. Once.”

  His tone was matter-of-fact, and her brows furrowed. “When?”

  “When I walked into a Black Dog den and saw that big dumb beast that lives with me as a pup, yelping in his nest. That was love.”

  Rose laughed, and although she had never really been jealous of the idea of his past escapades, she found relief flooding her heart. There had been sex—lots of sex—but never real love. “Jesus, Skrike, you fool! Not ‘boy and his dog’ love! I mean with a woman.”