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animasola86 · 1 month ago

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😈 FORK-TONGUED LOVER

m!demon x f!reader 🔥 very explicit 🔥 words: 7.1k

Your boyfriend is a demon, and while you're not quite sure how that came to be, you are all in now - as he is all into you, literally, using his demonic powers to stretch your body to its limits until he can poke at your soul, eager to devour it (and you) whole.

WARNINGS: NSFW! Explicit sexual content! Manipulation! Somnophilia! Oral/vaginal/anal sex. Cockwarming! Deepthroating! Deep penetration! Overstimulation! Ceiling sex? (READ ON AO3!)

A/N: The prompt was "demons, manipulation, anal play", and of course I couldn't leave it at that. By the way, this demon doesn't have a name, so you can imagine any character here if you want, in their monster AU of course!

Your boyfriend is a demon. What kind of demon you have no idea, he never told you, and it also kind of doesn't matter. He looks very normal (very hot in your eyes, with that beautiful jawline and those broad shoulders and his muscular but also lean body, so strong and tall, with bulging veins snaking under his tight skin, up and down his arms and legs and over his toned abdomen... uh, where were you going with this? Ah, right, he looks normal...), he also acts pretty normal, like a human would. He's kind and caring to you, but also doesn't shy away from taking your hand and leading you through a crowd, taking control. He makes you feel safe and seen and slightly spoiled.

The first time you realized he might be a little different, was another one of those instances when he took control. In the bedroom. It wasn't even really your first time with him, but that night will always stick in your memory, because it was the first of many amazing love-making sessions that left you so fucked-out you barely remembered your own name. The thing that makes him special is that he can manipulate his body, namely his cock.

When he's balls deep in your fluttering cunt, he can make it bigger, give it ridges and nubs, form it in a way that fills you out completely, that always stimulates all those special spots, leaving you absolutely senseless (in the overstimulated way) and more than satisfied. Best sex you've ever had (at least before you met him because he kept surprising you with new features to his cock every time he penetrated you anew).

He also coerced you to try anal, and even though you weren't one hundred percent convinced about it, he made sure you were ready. You see, his tongue is another great feature about him. When he talked or ate or laughed or even kissed, it was a normal tongue, but when he wanted to use it against you, it became a forked one, long and girthy, a muscle capable of many things, especially diving deep into your yearning holes.

Nobody has ever eaten you out so thoroughly, so deeply before, it's a glorious experience that made you use the Lord's name in vain one too many times (and each time he'd punish you for it, the little hell child that he is, making sure you'd scream his name instead while he bullied your most sensitive areas, relishing in the way your pussy clamped down on his tongue when he spanked your soft ass). Maybe that was why he liked to lick and probe you from behind, seeing your reddened cheeks did something to him.

You were a little apprehensive at first, having him so close to areas nobody's breached before (and that you thought were a little unflattering, to say the least), but he reassured you that he loves every single inch of you and is willing to show you just how much. And then his tongue pressed into your ass, and you forgot to breathe as shame flooded your senses, only to then be replaced by something you can only call madness. Because it drove you mad, in the best way, how he plunged between your tight muscles, how his strong hands held you open for him, how his grunts and groans vibrated through you.

Next thing you knew, he had slipped his cock into your prepared depths, and you'd thought it would hurt with how big he normally was (or could make himself even bigger), but instead of you molding to him, he had molded to what available space you were giving him. And it was a strange sensation. He was filling you out, still stretching your hole and the muscles beyond, but this time he'd made himself longer, thinner, and it kept going, invading your insides like a snake looking for a way out.

You felt your belly bulging, and the first time you saw him rearranging your guts (in the most literal way possible), you were very concerned, your hands swatting at the moving thing beneath your skin, but he only held you tighter, pressed you to his chest, and snapped his hips against your rear, distracting you with hard thrusts that felt so good you forgot about whatever happened inside your body. He was all that mattered, he and his beautiful demonic penis.

And you grew to like anal sex just as much because he really (actually) knew your body inside and out, always making sure you'll get the best experience by allowing him to merge his body with yours. You were thrown from one orgasm to the next, and most of the time the night ended with you passing out from overstimulation (but always with a smile on your face). And sometimes, the night didn't end at all as he kept going even when you were asleep.

He didn't sleep, didn't need to apparently, so he just lay with you in bed and watched you. Sometimes he would read or scroll on his phone, or he'd meditate to the sounds of your soft breaths (and snores). But eventually he'd grow bored, and he'd use you and whatever hole he was keen on invading that night. That man (demon) had stamina, it was insane. That was one of the reasons why you allowed him to do to you whatever he wanted while you were trying to catch some Z's.

The first time you woke up to him tongue deep in your wet cunt had been a little strange, but not completely unpleasant. He'd even asked you if it was okay (after telling you he had to taste you, you looked too delicious, he couldn't stop himself), and you agreed. How could you not. And so he continued to use your sleeping form for his pleasure (and yours, it definitely made for some fabulous(ly) wet dreams).

And you'd think you'd be utterly sore afterwards, but he somehow made sure your muscles were soft and relaxed, no matter how often they'd clench around his appendages. His massages were incredible, be it with his big hands and long fingers, or with his tongue, he just knew how to get rid of those knots (and bruises, though if those were visible to the public eye, he'd usually leave them, making sure everyone knew what you were up to and who you belonged to).

You were his, and you loved it, but at the same time, he was yours too, and whatever you wanted to do, he'd do it with you. He even came to one of those pottery courses you'd wanted to try out or watched that lame romance movie with you. And he never complained, because he knew, once you were back at your shared apartment, you would repay the favor (even though it never felt like that) by giving him something back.

And this is how you ended up on the couch, him lounging with his arm draped over the backrest (while the other hand rubbed over your bare rear), you curled up beside him, small fingers massaging his balls while you tried to fit his cock into your mouth. Sometimes he wanted to challenge you and kept it the way it was, long and girthy, and you'd end up choking with only half of him able to fit while his tip poked at the back of your throat, but most of the time he was more accommodating and made himself a little easier to handle.

He liked your feverish attempts to try to deepthroat him (even though you were never able to hold him for long before retching something awful) as much as your happy little mewls when you managed to fit all of his magically reduced length into your mouth, bulging your cheeks, while your nose nestled in his pubic hair. Tonight, you and him were watching a movie, some mindless action fling he was really into while you'd rather gag on his cock. Though you quickly relaxed on his lap and decided to just cockwarm him while enjoying his warmth and the probing of his fingers.

He always had to touch you, even in public, and it didn't stop at the innocent hand holding you were so fond of. He'd slip his long fingers under your skirt and rub and poke at your drenched underwear, and the moment nobody was looking, he'd dip them into your ready heat, most of the time resulting in you dragging him to a nearby restroom to thoroughly continue this endeavor, but sometimes he'd fingerfuck you right there, either sitting in a booth in your favorite diner or while standing in line for something (and somehow nobody ever noticed your red face or strained noises or the way his hand disappeared under your clothes, no matter how close you were to other people).

He was a master at manipulation, not just his body to fit your needs or to coax you into things you'd never tried before, everything around him seemed to bend to his will – if he wanted to. People moving out of the way when he'd walk with you through crowded streets, waitresses forgetting to charge you for your food, waving you off with a dumb little smile and unseeing eyes (one time you went back there alone and tried to give them the money he cheated out of them, but they couldn't even remember you), and other instances where he played with his surroundings just for the fun of it.

You didn't know how old he was (he looked somewhere between his mid-twenties and mid-thirties, probably depending on what you were in the mood for), and you didn't know much about demons (and somehow you never questioned his existence in the first place), but you would assume he's been around for a while, because it was so easy for him to puppeteer the humans and manipulate the world around him.

Most of the time you didn't mind, he wasn't cruel or condescending, didn't play pranks on people (at least not unjustified), but he'd make people trip when they've done something mean to others, he'd sometimes even help those in need, but those instances were rare and only if he was in a really good mood. He was a demon after all, not an angel.

And he was your demon, devoted to your well-being like no other boyfriend had been before. Not that you had a lot of experience, but you knew this was different, special, and it wasn't just the sex. The whole package. He was perfect, and if he'd ask you to come to hell with him, you wouldn't even hesitate. As long as he stayed with you, always connected, by holding hands or by being buried to the hilt in your cunt or by invading your body in a way nothing else has done before.

How did you meet? You're not too sure, actually, he may have wormed his way into your life on his terms, but you're not mad. You've never felt this loved and appreciated, this happy and satisfied. He may be a puppet master, moving you in ways you may not have initially wanted at first, but as much as he pushes you out of your comfort zone, he stretches it, makes it bigger, includes himself in it (on both a metaphysical as well as a literally physical way). He is a part of you, made a home in your body and in your soul, you became one, and it's everything you ever dreamed of (even though you could never imagine it).

Back on the couch, you're still suckling on his cock, lazily palming his throbbing balls, eyes closed and relaxing, while the TV spews loud action noises through the living room. His fingers are buried in your clenching ass, just resting there, occasionally pumping into your tense muscles a little, reminding you that he's still there. You give him a deep suck in response, and he lets out a content growl.

As you look up from under your lashes, you notice that his eyes are completely black, not just the iris, the entire eye. It's a clear sign for you that he's on the brink of losing his patience, his restraint, the need to ravish you pulsing through him. You shift a little and change position, so you can bob your head. Slowly you start moving, your lips straining around his girth, and as you do, you feel his cock growing.

He's made it smaller to accommodate your mouth, but now he's back to his normal size, maybe even bigger, certainly longer, as you struggle to get all of him somehow stimulated. Your hands are both around his shaft, pushing his tight skin over his hardened core as you suckle hard on his tip, flicking your tongue around and against his slit, tasting those precious pearls of precum, and you try to push him deeper, but as soon as he nudges against the back of your throat, your body convulses and spit fills your mouth.

You lean back with a deep gasp, and it's then that his hands find your head. One hand curls around your neck, the touch is warm, almost scorching, but it relaxes your tight muscles, and his other hand slips into your hair until he grips it in his fist, and when you lean back down to try to deepthroat him again, he pushes your head down, and before you know it you feel your neck bulging against his hand. Panic crashes through you, but he holds you there, soothes your throat from the outside while simultaneously pressing you down with his inhuman strength.

Your lungs are burning, your eyes rolling back, but you don't fight it, you let him do whatever feels right to him, because you trust him not to hurt you. It does hurt though when he starts bucking his hips up and slides his cock deeper into your throat, the fit barely possible you think through all the cotton in your head. He doesn't care, holding you as he fucks your face with quickening thrusts. Wet gurgling sounds echo in your ringing ears, and you have no idea why you haven't fainted yet.

There's a steady warmth rushing through your body as he keeps pumping his definitely elongated cock down your throat, filling you up in ways that don't feel natural. He groans quietly as he holds your head, using you for the hole that you are for him in that moment, and all you can do is take it, endure. You feel frozen in time, barely able to struggle even though the need to breathe becomes bigger and bigger. Luckily you don't gag anymore, how could you in your bound position.

Tears fall from your lashes, your jaw is slack, and a steady stream of drool drips past your swollen lips. And he keeps assaulting your throat, your neck never not bulging with how his cock moves up and down, finding space where there shouldn't be any. You're drowsy, lightheaded, drifting towards unconsciousness, but he never lets you fall over. Instead he doubles his efforts, his hips slamming against your face, his hands tight around your neck and in your hair.

And then, with a low growl that sounds as otherworldly as his cock feels in your throat, he stills deep inside you, your nose buried in his pubic hair, twitching balls pressed to your lips, and you can feel how his cum pulses through his shaft before it spews into your throat, spurt after spurt, sliding down into your stomach without restraint, warm and filling, oh so filling. The wish to taste him comes over you, and he seems to read your mind and slowly pulls back, lifting your head, his hand on your jaw now as he massages it gently.

Your eyes flutter open, and you have them fixed on the long appendage slipping out of your mouth, widening with every emerging inch. It keeps going and going, and when his cockhead finally pops out from between your lips, it still shoots thick ropes of cum onto your face and chin. The first thing you do as your airways are finally freed again is not to take rapid gulps of air, but stare at how his cock morphs back into its original form, still long but not as long, and a bit girthier, the mushroom tip red and glistening, more globs of his spend gathering in his slit.

The sight is mesmerizing, and before you know it, your lips strain around him and lick up those shiny pearls, his taste flooding your mouth, soothing the slight ache you feel as you swallow every single drop. He's eased his grip on your hair and is now caressing you gently as you clean him up, sucking the last remnants of spend out of him as if you've never tasted anything better (spoiler alert: you haven't). Once you're done, you collapse on his lower stomach, breathing deeply, your body coming to terms with the strenuous experience.

Your hands close around his softening dick, and you cuddle it to your warm cheek, giving it a gentle kiss. A low rumble goes through him as he chuckles at that. He keeps stroking your hair, his other hand moving back along your spine to rub between your ass cheeks. You sigh contently when two of his fingers press against your sphincter and inside you, the pressure a welcome change to having your throat filled like this. Closing your eyes, you let him finger you as you snuggle against his groin, small fingers tracing along the veins on his shaft.

He lets you relax a little more, but when you're close to drifting off to sleep, he suddenly pulls his fingers out of you and grabs your waist, and before you know it, you're lying on your back, legs spread wide as he settles between them. His eyes are still all black, and you shiver at the sight. There's always hunger in the way he looks at you, be it now or when you share an innocent moment on your commute to work, he can never hide the fact that he wants to eat you up.

And how he eats you up. Holding your hooded gaze, he leans in and plants soft kisses on your fluttering belly before he moves lower, licking his tongue down your mound, until he leans back and lets you watch how the normal pink muscle turns a deeper red, gets longer and thicker and then forks at the end of it. You've been rightfully scared the first time you've seen that, but as soon as he dipped that strange thing between your folds, you didn't care about its shape any longer.

And you don't care now, except for how it makes you feel. He laps along your seam, slowly parting your folds with a deliberate press of his forked tongue, before he closes his lips around your swollen clit, sucking hard with his tongue nudging at your entrance. The way he moves his mouth fascinates you, he seems to be at all the right places all at once, and all you can do is lean back into the soft couch cushions and let him have at it.

While you mewl and moan as he dips deeper, pressing the eager muscle between your tense ones, he lets out low grunts and groans that vibrate through you, further pushing you towards the edge. Your body is buzzing, and you reach out your hands to slip your fingers into his hair, grabbing a few fistfuls as you buck your hips against his face.

Under your palms, you can feel the little bumps on his head where you know he hides his horns. You've only seen them a couple of times, large and curved and pointy, and after your initial shock, you'd tried to use them as handle bars once – which he quickly prevented, telling you they were too sensitive to be grabbed like that (you were disappointed at first but then realized he was afraid of the strength you sometimes developed during your coupling, and you couldn't blame him, you did break a headboard with your tight grip before, though that wasn't entirely your fault with how brutally he'd hammered into you at that time). You still rub the heels of your hands against the little protrusions. He hums into you at the sensation.

His tongue is buried deep inside you, rubbing at your gummy walls, poking at those special spots, teasing all the way to your cervix (you're sure he's even poked into your womb at some point, but details are all hazy when you're writhing in nothing but bliss at the feeling). You are floating, back arched, hips stuttering, mouth wide open as you moan out his name over and over again. He keeps tonguing your clenching cunt while also teasing your clit, and you know he could do better, but he likes to edge you, keep you in that state where you're too far gone to protest but still nowhere near the realm where you'll forget your own name.

As he huffs and puffs against your sex, eating you up like a man starved, his big hands slip up your body to then close around your breasts. Gentle gropes turn into bruising grips until your hard nipples poke into his palms, and every little touch nudges you a little bit higher. You're wailing now, so sensitive, so needy, and it's that point where he slips his forked tongue out of your core and really sucks on your clit, that long muscle circling your swollen nub and pulling on it, coaxing more breathless cries out of your throat.

Your hands fall from his hair, clawing at the couch instead as you arch and buck against him, your body starting to twitch uncontrollably, and then, finally, with a hard suck to that sensitive bundle of nerves and a tight pinch to your nipples, he throws you over the edge. You come with a wailing scream, body spasming, thighs trembling, toes curling, all air sucked into your burning lungs as the lights explode all around you. He keeps licking at your throbbing clit, hands rubbing over your quivering breasts, his own grunts sending additional shock waves through your core.

He lets you down easy, lapping at the wetness seeping out of your clenching cunt, before he presses a lingering kiss to your inner thigh. Then he leans back on his haunches, watching you, his eyes seemingly even darker, as if feeding off your juices has made him even hungrier, even hornier, and by the look of his cock, he is indeed very aroused. It's bobbing against his lower stomach, standing proud and tall, thick veins bulging under the tight skin.

The sight pulls you from the aftermath of your orgasm, and you sit up slowly, hands reaching out, but he grabs your wrists in his large hand and pushes you back down, hovering over you as he stares down. You struggle in his hold, whimpering quietly, needily gyrating your hips beneath him as you feel his heavy erection on your stomach, so large and warm and already twitching. The only thought in your cloudy head is: I need him inside of me, and you know he wants this too, but he finds equal fun in playing around with you first.

So you wait, more or less patiently, as he watches you silently, his large black eyes boring into your soul, a little smirk playing around his lips. You lick your own, knowing the sight will drive him mad. And indeed it does, when he finally moves, smashing his mouth to yours for a searing kiss that quickly makes your head spin. He licks at the seam of your lips, and you part them, inviting his tongue in, and as it slips into your mouth, you feel it changing, getting longer and bigger, the two thinner ends teasing at the back of your throat.

You let out muffled moans as you try to meet his tongue with your own, and he sucks on it eagerly while still exploring every inch of your mouth. You taste yourself on him, and it only makes you salivate more as you think about where this tongue has been before. It's a messy kiss, hungry and passionate. You struggle beneath him, but his grip on your wrists is unrelenting, his weight on you grounding you, but the feel of his hard cock pressing into your soft belly turns your need into an urge.

His free hand is on your chin, lifting it up while his lips are still suctioned to yours, his tongue probing deeper, and when you feel the telltale sensation of having to gag, he pushes into your throat. Your vision blurs, lungs burn, body convulsing against him, but he keeps going, ignores the spit gathering in your mouth, just drives his tongue deeper down your throat, the muscle not as hard and girthy as his cock, but it's still an invasion you weren't ready for.

He starts moving it back and forth, and the pressure and friction feels like too much. You can't breathe, all you can do is gurgle helplessly. As your eyelids flutter and you look at him (without really seeing him with how badly the black spots dance before your eyes), he presses his lips firmer against yours as if to soothe you, while his tongue slides up and down your esophagus. You feel his hand closing around your neck, applying gentle pressure, the warm sensation making it all a little easier.

But just when you lean into the experience of having your throat tongue-fucked, he pulls back again, his tongue retreating and changing back into a normal size, before he peppers you with soft kisses as you slowly regain control over your breathing. His hum is low against your cheek, and despite the saliva dripping past your swollen lips, you find yourself smiling at him. He kisses your drool away, following the trail down your chin and to your neck, where you feel him nibbling on your fluttering pulse.

He's not a biter, luckily, even though his canines are a little pointier than normal human teeth. Yet he only uses them to tease you, and that he does as he scrapes them along your throat, his warm breaths coaxing a thick layer of goosebumps onto your exposed skin. When he starts working a hickey into your neck, he moves his arms around you and slowly lifts you up. Your freed hands are tingling, but you quickly place them to the nape of his neck to hold yourself up.

Pressing you to his chest, he pulls you into a standing position, before he tilts his body back, and you feel how your feet leave the soft carpet beneath you. Immediately your heart starts racing, and you quickly wrap your legs around his waist, tightening your grip on his neck. He's done this a few times before, always surprising you, but you've thought he would stop doing it after you told him you didn't like it too much. You open your mouth to protest, staring at him, but he only grins, holding you against him as a sudden jerk goes through his body.

And then you find yourself pressed to the ceiling, desperately clinging to him as you squeeze your eyes shut. Without even seeing how far away the ground is, you can feel the vertigo crashing through your stomach. You have a horrible fear of heights, and he knows it, and yet he pushes you out of your comfort zone yet again. A little wail escapes you as he slowly pries your arms away from his neck. His hands move along them gently, spreading them, until he pins you to the ceiling by your wrists in an almost T-pose. You don't even know how he's able to reach his arms so far (he is also levitating, but that doesn't strike you as weird anymore).

If you'd be upside down, you'd be lying on your back with your arms spread and your legs wrapped around his waist, with him hovering over you, holding your wrists tightly. But you're not lying, you're pressed to the ceiling by a strange force emanating from your boyfriend, who basically hangs off you like the demon that he is. Despite the horroresque idea of him crawling along the walls and ceiling like a man-sized bug, you are too aroused right now to think about it.

He leans down (no, up) to plant soft kisses along your jaw, and you start grinding your hips into him, trying to forget the horrible sensation of hanging upside down (you're not upside down, per se, but with your hair falling over your face it sure feels like it). A sudden squeak escapes you when he lets go of your wrists, and you fear the worst, awaiting the inevitable fall, but you remain glued to the ceiling, even without him holding you up. Whatever force he is using, it's strong, and despite staring down now with your eyes wide open, you feel a little more relaxed, trusting him not to hurt you.

His hands move along your body before he carefully pries your legs off his waist, keeping them spread wide (and they'd follow gravity down if it weren't for the force holding them up) as he maneuvers his bobbing cock towards your ready sex. His black eyes are on you as he rolls his hips, his hands finding your face to keep your hair out of it, and you feel his tip pressing against your entrance before you let him in surprisingly easily, the stretch still coaxing a soft moan out of your throat. He keeps nudging his pelvis into you, slowly sinking deeper until he bottoms out completely.

He's not manipulated his cock this time, it's his normal length and girth, shaft smooth except for the bulging veins rubbing against your walls, and you don't complain, he's still way bigger than any man you had before him (not that you had many, but it's enough to make the comparison). Focusing on how he fills you out, you close your eyes and try to ignore your strange position on the ceiling. You feel him leaning in, pressing soft kisses to your cheeks, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth, distracting you as best he can as gravity makes your head spin until you don't know what's up and what's down anymore.

You focus on him, on his gentle caresses, the way he moves his hips back and forth in a slow and steady rhythm, getting you adjusted to his size, but when you feel something curling around your ankle, your eyes fly open. He gives you an innocent smirk, but you already know what's going to happen. Behind him, his tail rises up, a long black appendage that ends in a little upside down heart-shaped tip. With his hands holding your face and his knees pressed to either side of your torso as he pumps his pelvis into you, the tail seems to have a mind of its own (well, it's his mind, but it feels like a third party with how unpredictable it moves).

It slithers up your leg, sending additional shivers down your spine. You're already on the brink with how his cock pushes in and out of your eagerly clenching cunt, mewling and moaning with every thrust, but when you feel that sneaky appendage poking at your sphincter, you almost choke on your own spit. He slows his pumping then, watching you closely, and you wish you could hold onto him, touch him, ground yourself against him, but you're still forced into that spread-eagle position on the ceiling, held by this unseen force, unable to connect – or even protest when his tail suddenly parts your tight muscles and slips into your ass.

All you can do is cry out, eyelids fluttering as he invades yet another part of your body. The heart-shaped tip wriggles its way deeper, carving its way into your tense depths, before it settles inside you while he resumes the constant pounding of his hips. Your head is spinning, not just from your high position and the vertigo assaulting your senses, but from how he plays you with his body parts. Cock sliding in and out, back and forth, rubbing along all the right spots, filling you out perfectly. Tail poking deep, undulating into you while also holding you in place, impaled like a dummy on a ventriloquist's hand.

It's as if you're dreaming, floating (quite literally) at the edge of sanity and pleasure, pushed and pulled without being able to do anything against it. And you love it. Before you met him, you were always anxious, overthinking everything, worrying your little head off. But then he introduced you to this realm of bliss, the head-empty-feeling that made everything so much easier. All you can think about now is him and how he uses you, how he drives his cock and tail into you without mercy, chasing his own orgasm as well as forcing you to feel these incredible sensations that fill your head with cotton.

There's this warmth building up inside you, the telltale sign of your impending orgasm, and you whine and wail under his motions, desperate to be led towards the edge and pushed over, desperate to fly. He watches you as you start to lose it, and his hands move to your waist, fingers digging into your skin, a bruising but comforting grip, and suddenly you're being pulled away from the ceiling, the hard surface you were pushed against is gone, and you are flying, held in the air, impaled by his tail, with his cock still pistoning in and out of you fast and hard, your whole body moving, arms and legs hanging limply, swinging with every deep thrust.

The vertigo grows into that whirlwind of sensations, and you may or may not be turned around, angled this way and that, you couldn't tell, your eyes are closed, and all you can do is feel. Like floating, like burning up from inside, like being filled and stretched. The noises of skin slapping against skin and those traitorously wet squelching sounds dim around you as the air gets heavier. You can barely breathe, your heart is that low thudding noise in the back of your head, your body shivering, lips twitching, and then you come, hard, with a disembodied scream that fills the room and sets the cotton in your head on fire.

He holds you as you spasm, those waves of pleasure burning through your nerves, and you barely register how he pounds into you faster, how his tail slips deeper, pushing against your limits, how he growls into the black void you find yourself in. Then his arms are around you, pressing you to his warm chest, and he gives you that final thrust, burying himself as deep as he can go, as his cock twitches and throbs, and with another low growl that sends goosebumps over your sweat-slick skin, he shoots his load into your convulsing depths, filling you out in a way that shouldn't be possible.

It's so warm, burning you up from the inside, spreading through your body, lulling your overstimulated senses. You're a puppet in his arms, still impaled by his tail as he slowly moves you down – until your curling toes brush against the carpet again. Gently he settles you on the couch, but your head is still spinning, and it's only when he lies down heavily on top of you, pushing you deeper into the cushions, that you regain control over your limbs. Inhaling sharply, your eyes flutter open, and you meet his warm gaze, his eyes no longer black, and his smile is soft – wildly contradicting the way his tail is still moving inside your ass.

But you don't mind. Your shaking hands move up his sides before you hold onto his broad shoulders, feeling his warm skin. Your touch is clammy while he didn't seem to have shed a single bead of sweat despite the airborne acrobatics. An amused little giggle escapes you, and he watches you curiously before he leans his head onto the cushion beside yours, his lips brushing against your cheek. You turn towards him, smiling softly. He leans in and presses his mouth to yours, his tongue persistently pushing between your lips, slowly easing back into needing to touch you and fill you at all times.

As if his tail in your ass and his cock in your overflowing cunt wouldn't be enough.

It's one of the perks of having a demon as your boyfriend. You're never alone (never empty), he's always there for you, even when you have to suffer through those long hours of redundant labor. He'll make sure you can feel him inside you no matter what, even if he's miles away, waiting for you. Be it through those touches you can feel but not see, those phantom caresses he's able to give you, or by stuffing you full of his cum before you have to leave for work, the constant drip into your underwear a gentle reminder of what awaits you once you get home.

You've never been as sex-obsessed as you are now, he certainly opened a few gates you are unable to pass through again or even attempt to close. You're past that. Why would you want to stop those desires either? They are a part of you the same way he is a part of you and you are a part of him. He never officially bargained for your soul, and he didn't have to, you gave it up willingly, to be with him, forever.

Squished into the couch under his weight, you keep kissing him hungrily, slowly fighting your way out of the bliss-induced haze he put you in. He's still on top of you, heavy inside you, his seed slowly dripping from your clenching cunt. There's a strange pressure when his tail forces its way out of your ass, and you know it's slowly retreating back into his body, as he returns to his more or less human form. He always turns back after successfully satisfying his and your needs, almost as if making you believe he never changed in the first place, and him showing you his true self was only a figment of your orgasm-riddled imagination.

But you know better, and it may have scared you at first, but now you can't get enough of all those extra features. You know for sure you could never have sex with another human again, it wouldn't be the same, because only he can meet all your special needs, fill you out perfectly, whatever orifice he desires most in that moment. Just the thought of his magically elongated cock pressing deep into your throat makes you shiver, and the idea of the same cock filling every possible inch of your cunt and further, stimulating every sensitive spot with its enhancements, makes you gasp against his lips.

He is all you can think about. You may be moved by invisible strings, guided into things you never knew you needed, but you don't complain. You want them, and you want him. And you'd die if he ever decided to dislodge his claws from you, if he ever let you go.

Feeling a sudden sadness gripping your insides, you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him harder. He strokes your cheek and leans back, his eyes scanning your flushed face. A single tear rolls out of the corner of your eye, and he traces its movement before he leans down and licks it up gently. A shudder and a sob crash through you, your fingers digging into his hair, holding onto him tightly, desperately. His lips move along your jaw until he presses a soft kiss to your earlobe.

His voice is a low hum in your head as he whispers: “No need to be sad, pumpkin. You are mine, and you always will be. There's no escaping me. We are bound by body, soul and... blood...”

A stifled moan escapes you as you turn your head to the side and offer your neck to him. He's never bitten you before, but you know, deep down, like a long forgotten instinct, like a thought he planted into your brain, that it will be the last ritual to properly chain you to him – and him to you. And you want it.

His teeth sink into your soft skin, a sudden cold creeping through your veins, your body twitching slightly beneath him. And as he laps up the blood spilling from your neck, he holds you tightly, his hips rocking gently into yours, reigniting the fire burning within you as you feel his cock expanding inside you, filling you out, further pushing your limits. You can only issue weakened gasps, your mind slipping, a soft smile playing around your swollen lips.

He seals your wound with a gentle kiss, inhaling deeply as he nuzzles your neck, your pulse fluttering against him, and then he starts moving his hips, slow and steady thrusts that bounce you on the couch. Your eyes are hooded, but you can barely see him above you. All you can make out is a black shadow, filling your vision, as he grows on top (and inside) of you, the tail is back to tease your twitching limbs, his horns slip from his skull, brushing against your fingers fisting his hair, his whole body seems to vibrate as he assumes his true demonic form that he's never fully shown you.

And even now you can't appreciate it with how he hammers his cock into you, holds you in his embrace. Your mind is spinning, filled and yet empty, while his low growls mix with your little mewls. He is all around you, inside and out, devouring you whole. And you're here for it. All of it. He could drag you into the lowest circle of hell and you'd just cling to him, unwilling to let go, his to carry around, his to play with. His little puppet, the small human he chose to be his mate.

The soft swish of his wings barely registers as he lifts you into the air again, fucking your body and soul with reckless abandon, taking you to heights (and depths) you've never seen before, stretching you and your comfort zone further and further, invading spaces he shouldn't be able to penetrate. But you are his, every inch of you, every nook and cranny is there for him to fill.

And while he does just that with persistent thrusts of his large cock, you feel your heart swelling as well, beating hard in your heaving chest, beating only for him. Your boyfriend is a demon, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

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