Lillith

You've been warned many, many times from adolescence to adulthood not to venture near his forest. That a whiff of your hair or a branch cracking under your feet would be all it took to sign your death sentence, he would be upon you just as the fear settled in.

You had heeded the villages warnings, keeping yourself more than a safe distance away as you hunt and gather to keep your struggling family alive enough to get through the harsh winter. But as the years drone on, plagued with dying crops and scarcely spotted animals, you have two choices.

Venture into the belly of the beast or let yourself and your family starve.

Your refusal to lay down and die lands you in exactly the predicament the stories of old had prophesied.

And now here you are, hair whipping around you as you dodge tree branches, legs pushing past the point of exhaustion as your worn sandals tear into the frosty earth. Your heartbeat thrums wildly in your ears, the only other sound is your gasps for air through painfully tight lungs. Trying in vain to lead him anywhere but your village. You whisper small prayers of protection as if the gods would suddenly smile upon you just this once.

He's on your heels. If he happens to reach out he's more than capable of grabbing you with one of his grotesque limbs to stuff you into that stomach mouth you'd caught a glimpse of when he'd first made himself known. He's toying with you and you know it, he could've caught you ten times over. You have half a mind to be insulted. If you weren't so damn scared, that is.

"You're slowing down, Child of Man." His voice seems to envelop you, that taunting lilt caressing your eardrums. He's so close you can smell the blood and decay on him. The stench of death and the reaper who will bring it about wafting into your wind chapped nostrils. You push yourself harder, muscles screaming at the strain as you try to will a second wind. Your eyes scan wildly, searching the forest for something, anything that could possibly slow the fiend at your back.

"Don't give up on me now, I'd like to play with my food a little longer." You're cursing yourself for getting too comfortable, too cocky in his forest. Why couldn't you have just entered the pleasure district like the other young women in your village? Taken up a life spent laid on your back and sent the money back home to your parents. Deeming yourself too good— too pure for such a life, where had that gotten you?

The soft trickling of water comes from your left and finally your second wind hits, springing you forward in euphoric delight at the notion that you may just survive. The King of Curses' forest opens up to a small river, moonlight shining along the small ripples. You have no time for a plan, no time to think about anything other than escaping as you practically jump into the water.

But, oh, you've made a terrible mistake. Miscalculated in such a heartbreaking way.

Your sandal catches on a tree root, barely visible in the dark, the frayed threads holding it together snapping and sending you flying. Your knees scrape against the jagged rocks below, dirt and debris stinging the freshly opened wound.

His husky chuckle comes from above, your head snaps up at the sound. You think you might cry, scrambling backward on all fours for the mirage of a safe distance away from him. To hell with your wounds, you'd have time to lick them later. You only have time to be smart and fast. The cost of anything else would be having your whole body ripped apart, your bones gnawed on and the marrow sucked out until all that was left was the shabby clothes stuck to your sweat slicked skin.

Your brain can't take in the image before you as your eyes blur, shock taking over every single synapse other than your ability to move.

"How disappointing. I thought you'd last a lot longer."

"S-Stay back! Don't come any closer!" No matter how hard you try, your voice wavers and cracks as you continue to struggle. Your feeble begs only earn you a bellowing laugh, as if you'd just told him the joke of a lifetime.

You want to scream and spit and beg for your pathetic life, but when you open your mouth nothing comes out except a choked sob. Your vision clears and finally, you see him in all his wretched glory.

He's grotesquely beautiful. In a way that had butterflies blooming in your stomach and a chill running up your spine simultaneously. He towers over you. Not in the way men in your village typically do. No, he was ginormous. Probably too big to fit in the little earthen shack you called home.

Your jaw drops in horror as you take note of his face: four red eyes all trained on you, one side of his face marred to the point of looking mask-like and a big toothy grin painted with blood and bits of skin. The oddities didn't stop there and neither did your eyes as you try to scramble to your feet, only to bash back into the rocks below. You've twisted your ankle. Blood pools underneath your skin, a dark purple bruise already beginning to bloom. You can't hold back the wince as the throbbing comes to the forefront of your mind, recoiling as it continues to swell.

"I've been watching you, foolish girl." The rocks at the riverbed crunch and crumble under his feet as he circles you— his prey.

"For many nights, you have taken from me." He gestures to the forest behind him, eyes turning to slits as he glares down at you. Regarding you as if you were a worm. Maybe even less than that, like the dirt they call home.

You want to defend yourself, to reason with him but your eyes are scraping down his burly frame, widening as you notice not only the drooling maw of his previously noted mouth stomach, but the two extra limbs protruding from his sides.

What more is there to do than resign yourself to death? How could you outwit such a beast?

Your body goes limp, a sense of calm washing over you as the rivers stream rushes past you, accepting your fate. Taking your first breath that doesn't hurt, you think of the new kosode your mother had made you and the fermenting indigo flowers you had planned to dye it with. You feel triumphant in the fact that you have done one good thing by giving your parents one less mouth to feed and one less back to clothe.

"Well, aren't you pathetic?" He's blocking the moonlight, disfigured face pulled back into a smile as he comes back into your line of sight. You stare back blankly, the aftershocks of adrenaline leaving your heart to pound behind your ribcage. He seems to think for a moment, the eyes on his "mask" whirring around in contemplation before he walks around to kneel above your head.

"Just kill me and be done with it, you beast." You don't sound like yourself, your voice devoid of all emotion— so much so, you wonder if maybe there's another woman lying in the snow beside you. He looks like the devil incarnate as his thick fingers thread into your hair, tightening near the root and lifting you to eye level.

"It has been a long while since I enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh." He seems pleased with himself as he watches your face twist into horror, the long tongue protruding from his stomach lapping at your jaw. "I think I will play with you a bit longer."

"I'd rather die than become the whore of an animal like you." You spit, breaths coming out in furious little white pants. Your fingernails claw at the hand holding you yet it's as if you're nothing more than a mosquito.

Annoying and insignificant.

He pays you no mind as he wraps one calloused hand from his left lower arm around both of your wrists, pulling you up as he stands. You lean to one side to avoid putting pressure on your wrecked ankle, hair falling into your eye line. One of the fingers on his top hand lifts your chin so as to hold you wholly hostage.

"Did you think you could take from me without giving something in return?" The smell of human flesh on his tongue is something you'll never forget.

Sweet and rotten.

You try to wriggle away, put as much distance as you can between yourself and that bile-inducing mouth stomach that's begun licking its way up your leg. It's no use. Not with the strength he harbors in one arm alone, much less three more.

"I have nothing to offer the King of Curses." It's said through your teeth, sharp and impolite, "I am but a village woman with no prospects to gain from."

It was the gut wrenching truth. Even if you want to beg your way out of it, you have nothing to offer in return for his mercy.

Black fingernails from his unoccupied right lower arm trace against the opening of your worn kosode, the soaked fabric clinging to you like second skin. "I can think of many things you can offer me."

His bloodstained lips are pressing into the shell of your ear, his right lower arm loosening the tie to leave you stark naked in the cold winter evening. "This looks like a good place to start."

His fingers play at your cunt, goosebumps kissing their way over your body as you cower away from his touch. You blush, embarrassed at your lack of undergarments. Cursing yourself for wanting to keep them in good condition back at home where they were likely still hung up to dry.

His lower pointer finger— the left one— strokes slow circles into your clit, your knees wobble and a small involuntary whimper forces its way past your clenched jaw and chapped lips.

"Oh, that is just a mere drop of what you owe me." He chortles, his warm breath fanning over your neck as he opens his mouth to let his wretched teeth glide upon your delicate skin. "And I require payment in full."

He doesn't wait for a response, instead hauling you over his shoulder as if you weigh nothing—and to be fair, to him, you probably don't. Your exposed skin sticks to him as he treks back into the shadow of the forest. His muscled shoulder digs uncomfortably into your abdomen with each hefty step. Try as you might to wriggle out of his grasp, pounding against his solid back as hard as you can, he doesn't budge. His grip only tightens around your waist, like a snake wrapping around its prey.

"If you don't stop flailing I'll tear your arms off. I'll have my way with you much easier without them." He grunts, giving a sharp smack to your ass. As if you were a mule.

"You're disgusting." You bite, choosing to scratch at his back in a pitiful act of defiance, nothing other than dried blood catching under your nails.

"Oh, how the human girl has hurt me." He laughs to himself, "C'mon, try harder. Your kind is rather dull when it comes to insults."

"You're a vile beast. A monster." You bite into his shoulder, trying to rip flesh and muscle but all you manage is to make your teeth hurt, a disgusting grunt gurgling in the back of his throat.

"Is that all?"

The woods are getting thicker the further he ventures, the trees growing closer together as if to embrace each other in his monstrous wake. The smell of cedar and cypress does nothing to quiet your nerves— if anything it only eggs on your turning stomach.

"A demon. A savage. A brute."

"Well, I see why they sent you out to hunt instead of using that little brain of yours."

"You're a sickening abomination. One that should've never been allowed to live past childhood." You practically scream it, slamming the tips of your toes into what you think will be his stomach but is instead the forgotten mouth embedded into his gut.

"Ah, there it is. Your kind truly are uncreative. Let's hope you are more entertaining as a sheath for my cocks." He chuckles, the action jostling you around. Your mouth runs dry as the warm glow of fire illuminates the surrounding area.

Cocks?

Meaning more than one?

Surely, he couldn't have four eyes, four arms, twenty fingers and two cocks?

What had the gods been thinking when creating such a being? Maybe it wasn't the gods at all, maybe he had been yanked from the deepest depths of hell to punish the living for their transgressions.

His footsteps slow as he hauls you through the threshold of, what seems to be, a very large dwelling. Something resembling a temple. But there are no gods here. Only a devil masked in beautiful skin, the only showing of evil being the gnarled side of his face.

His arms loosen and he drops you haphazardly onto the cold, stone floor before climbing atop a meticulously crafted dais and settling onto a large throne. Your eyes strain under the dim flickering of candlelight to make some kind of sense of your surroundings. There's no mistaking it, the seat beneath him was made up of off white bones, human and animal alike. Horrifying and grotesque as the man sitting atop it.

His legs are spread, white pants hung low on his hips as he watches with his glowing red eyes, chin resting on one of his palms as you try to pull your wet clothes closed. The candles flicker with every rise and fall of his bare chest, illuminating his haunting visage. He looks bored and irritated as his fingers tap against his face.

"Come. Now." One of his fingers beckons you. You can't help but stare at him blankly, no words of protest coming to rest on your tongue. His jaw ticks at your defiance, temples flaring. "Come or I will make you."

You don't argue that either way, he is bending you to his whims.

No better than a dog, you listen.

You crawl on all fours to attempt to save your battered ankle, kosode falling away from your skin. It opens more and more with each sway of your hips, exposing your breasts. He watches you intently as you inch up the dais to the foot of his throne, spreading his legs further apart— being oh so accommodating.

"Undress me."

You bark out a laugh. If you were going to die anyway, what's the harm in a bit of idiotic defiance?

"You and your many limbs seem quite capable, no?" Your hateful little eyes burn into him, sending a little shockwave of pleasure into his nether regions as he stands to full height once again.

"I think you've forgotten why I've spared your pitiful little life." His lower right arm comes down to grip the growing bulge between his legs. And just like the rest of him, it's massive. Concerningly so.

"As a sheath for your…" You swallow, hard, "cocks."

You nod your head toward his crotch, something inside you recoiling at the way his mouth stomach opens and drools down that little expanse of skin between it and whatever horrors lay beneath the tuft of hair below his pants. "You said nothing about being your attendant."

"You owe me quite a debt, or have you forgotten yourself, girl?"

"Oh, the debt? Silly me, I seemed to have forgotten with how breathtaking your domicile is."

Your jaw clenches, letting out a big puff of air through your teeth as your fingers hook into the top of his pants. Your hands tremble, pulling the fabric down with bated breath as you prepare yourself as best you can for whatever may lay inside.

"You're boring me." His gaze pierces you, the look of disinterest creating a little parasite of insecurity. One you refuse to acknowledge as you finally pull the cloth down to his thighs, two twin cocks slapping against each other as they spring free.

You swallow, hard. Hand approaching them with trepidation, attempting to wrap around both of their thick girths with one regular, humanly sized hand. His eyes narrow, lower left hand coming to circle around your wrist before you can even touch skin to skin.

"Do it right." He growls, annoyance unfiltered in his tone.

A long line of slobber descends from the maw in his stomach, pooling around the base of the one closest to where his navel should be, long tongue wrapping around the length to further wet it. You wish you could pull your eyes away, focus on the bits of rotting corpses in the dark corners of the room, look anywhere but his cursed cocks and his jarring tongue— but you can't.

"If you wanted a whore, you should've found yourself one."

Surprisingly, he smiles.

You're his captive in more way than one, especially as his hand shadows yours, thick fingers ghosting over your own delicate ones as he retracts his sickening tongue. He curls the digits around his length, an apparent throbbing under his skin as he pumps your hand up and down, the bottom cock twitching with each of your movements.

The quiet echoing squelch of spittle against skin dances off the walls. There's a strange fluttering somewhere in your belly as you watch him glare down at you with four crimson eyes. His unoccupied right lower hand grips into your jaw, the force unlatching your desperately clenched mandible until it's hanging wide open.

"Let me feel that poisonous little mouth of yours." His voice is low, gravelly as he lets go of his hold on the hand stroking him and instead feeds his spit soaked fingers through your hair. You return his glare as you follow his pushing, your bottom lip barely touching his frenulum. Your tongue peeks out and traces against the thin tissue, your hand tightening around the upper cock as you continue to stroke at a slow pace.

His brow twitches almost imperceptibly, a faint little crease of skin fading in and out. The hand in your hair pushes him deeper into your mouth. You both hold the others eye contact like you're caught in some silent pissing match. Your teeth graze his shaft as your mouth widens, the corners stinging as it begrudgingly welcomes him. His jaw ticks, something akin to a groan pushing it's way past pursed lips.

"Does the King of Curses not enjoy my mouth?" Your tone drips with mocking saccharine as you pop off him. He smiles in that cruel sort of way you imagine only he has mastered, your scalp stings as his fingers tighten.

"Oh I enjoy it very much." The tongue embedded in his stomach laps at your ear as he pushes your head down, it tickles and makes you shy away. The force of his cock brings tears to your eyes as your nose presses snug to that wet little patch of hair on his pubic bone.

His brutality doesn't stop there, he holds your head stationary as he raises his hips to fuck harshly into your throat. You're gagging, the hand around his upper cock sliding along at the same rhythm as your saliva pushes its way out of your mouth and down your chin to make room for him. His heavy balls pull taut, glazed with more and more slobber each time they kiss your chin.

"That's it." The words are drawn out, elongated in a way that only spells out his warped pleasure. "You're so much more palatable with your mouth full."

Coming from him it's quite the insult, considering he's got a penchant for human flesh. Your lips pull back, unsheathing your teeth and biting down just a little. He sucks in a sharp breath as enamel meets sensitive skin, pulling you fully off him, staring down at you as if you are the monster here.

Your knees slam back into the floor, hand massaging your sore jaw as he bends down to your height once more. His upper arms pull you into him, your feeble body resting against him while the lower hands pull your clothes from off your back. His cocks press into your freshly bare skin, a bit of precum pooling just above your navel. Warmth creeps up your neck all the way to your face as his own heat presses against you. You tilt your head up, eyes turned into murderous little slits as if you could mask your embarrassment if you wrap it in fury.

You know what comes next, having heard gasps of pleasure from the other women's homes in the village. Having experienced it yourself less than a handful of times with the butchers son in a dilapidated shed on the outskirts of the village. As unceremonious as it had been, at least the fiend in front of you won't be able to relish in stealing your first time.

A newborn fear tickles its way down your spine as you realize that the stark difference between you and those village women is the swell of their bellies months later, heavy with child. Thoughts of a monstrous fetus cannibalizing you from the inside out makes sweat bead coolly down your forehead.

Dual cocks and the possibility of an abominable child were two truths you weren't sure you could live through. If you had to endure the former, you had no choice but to do your damnedest to prevent the latter.

"I've not bathed." You blurt, fingernails digging into your palm. The notion that a thing like him would care about hygiene is idiotic. His head tips back slightly as he breathes out a chuckle, all too pleased with himself as the black fingernails on his upper hands pull your legs apart. You turn your head, your flush traveling down to your chest. You hear the drooling maw of his stomach mouth opening, a small growl escaping as the tongue lolls out and licks at your cunt.

"I like the scent of fear on you." His hot breath fans against your ear, lips brushing softly against it as every syllable reverberates in the space between your ears. "It's delicious."

"I don't fear you," you lie. "I despise you."

Your tongue is full of venom but your breaths are shaky as he domesticates your clit, the bud swelling as if to offer him more and more to take. Your fingernails are one bastardly lewd comment from breaking skin, your palms stinging as his tongue laps, creeping closer and closer to your opening as if to prove his sentiment true.

His eyes hold you hostage as he reaches for your discarded robes, laying them flat on the stone floor just outside the dais. You feel disgusted at the slick pooling out of you, the unwilling eagerness your body exudes toward him.

His lower hands are firm on your hips, finger tips pressing into the more plush part of your slightly malnourished body. He squeezes you close as he climbs down, you're sure he can feel your heart hammering against your ribcage. The humiliation has you on the verge of hysterics as you cling to him.

His pants have been fully discarded somewhere along the way as he lays onto your kosode and brings you with him, making himself comfortable as your garments soak up whatever unmentionable secretions may be littered about.

You're spread open along his torso, small hums of cruel satisfaction escaping his upper mouth as he fashions his lower tongue into a point, settling you onto its tip. Even in its more narrowed form, it has you falling forward, nails digging into his pectorals. It's thick, much less so than the two cocks you're undoubtedly going to be stretched over in the near future— but an uncomfortable stretch all the same.

"Relax." He barks. It's not a suggestion, not wrapped in anything close to worry for your poor body that's already been pushed beyond its limit. No, it's a demand. A demand meant to make him more comfortable, to make you more pleasurable for him.

"You say that as if most women usually lay with a man with a stomach mouth." You huff, easing your hips down just a bit, fingers flexing into the hard muscle beneath you to match the strain you feel below.

"Ah, am I no longer a beast?" He smiles, upper left hand coming to coax your lower back down. "I'm a child of man just like you now?"

You can't help but scoff at that, immediately regretting the release of air as it's sucked back in through clenched teeth. You bottom out on the muscle, the large teeth scraping against your lower lips. You'd probably be terrified of it biting you if you weren't wrapping yourself in ever growing self hatred for how fucking good it feels.

His fingers are still cemented in your hips, pulling and pushing you into little rocking motions. You purse your lips in an attempt to reserve just one thing for yourself in this god forsaken desecration. But the King of Curses will have none of that, his greed has him taking full advantage of his extra limbs, pulling you down by your neck to press a rotten kiss your lips as he wrenches your mouth open.

"You will pay me what you owe, foolish girl." His words are heavy, much more so as every utterance is traced along your lips. "Every movement, every sound. It all belongs to me."

The flickering of candles halts as if they too are awaiting your reaction with bated breath, as if everything— even the smallest speck of dust— is being commanded by him. His face is too close, four eyes too intense as he pushes two godforsaken fingers in your mouth. Your stomach clenches in disgust, they taste like blood and death, but you wrap your tongue around them anyway. Your hips roll and lift, your spine arching forward and back as you use his large muscle to dig deep inside yourself.

"You may have it willingly." You whisper, pulling your head back so his fingertips rest on your bottom lip, a string of spit glissading against your chin. A look of shock flashes on his face, just for a moment before it settles back into its smug position. "That is, if you are capable enough."

Your newfound "confidence" will cost you, the price you pay for egging him on being his lust filled brutality. He likes the challenge, his vicious teeth peeking out from behind his lips as his upper arms reach for your back, fingertips dimpling into your skin to push you forward. He catches your breast in his mouth, teeth grazing the peak of your nipple as one of the fingers slick with your spit try to push their way into your already overstuffed cunt.

"What are you-"

"How do you expect to take all of me if you can't even do this much?" His mumblings against your breast has your jaw clenching, a small internal war waging inside you as you fight the urge to press your thighs together. "Come now, I like it when you're mouthy."

The tips of one of his fingers slides in behind his tongue, a sharp hiss emits through clenched teeth in the small space between you. Your nails embed deeper and deeper into his flesh, somehow you're yet to break skin. You let out a shaky breath when his fingers slide out of you, the tension in your body relaxing for just a moment as the large man below takes on the brunt of your weight— which he finds all too amusing when he presses the digits back in.

"Have you forgotten I'm human?" You chide, rocking your hips back despite your nagging, "I'm much more breakable than you, My Lord."

His nose scrunches in disgust at the saccharine lilt of your voice and the over polite moniker. He finds you much more pleasurable when you're baring your teeth at him, defiant and thrashing like a wild animal.

"Sukuna." He growls, pulling his upper left hand up to his mouth. You're partially hypnotized by the way his fingers dig into the back of his throat, a wad of spit collected on them as he pulls them free. His tongue continues its fucking into you and you fuck it right back, finding a rhythm that makes your toes curl.

"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" You huff, trying to rise into a squatting position for more control. You hiss when pain shoots up from your ankle and into your leg, you had forgotten how badly you'd hurt it.

"That's what you will call me." He shoves you back down with one of his many hands while using another to grip your ass and spread it.

It'd probably be polite to offer him your own name, but this situation you've put yourself in doesn't require politeness. He wants you to give and give with only him as the taker. You tense when you feel his slippery fingers prod at your asshole, your eyes blown wide as you bare your teeth.

"Relax." He demands, nudging at the tight ring with his pointer finger. Whether you can't or won't is unimportant, his thick fingers continue their coaxing, his nostrils flaring when you're showing no sign of calming. "Do as you wish. Your fragile body is of no consequence to me."

His sentiment proves true when he takes advantage of your deep inhale, pushing down the the knuckle in one swift movement. Your brow begins to sweat, your fingernails finally drawing blood from where they anchor into his pectorals. You squeeze your eyes shut at the discomfort, deep inhales and even deeper exhales push past your bitten raw lips as he pumps his finger in tandem with the tongue still seated inside you.

His movements are impatient, his tongue popping out of your cunt to wet your asshole so he can pop in another, scissoring them to stretch you even further. His back lifts off the ground and he pushes himself into a sitting position, though a bit of an awkward one with you still sitting on his lower mouth.

You thank the gods or the devil or whoever else may be listening for his many arms that keep you from cracking your head on the stone below. He trades out the digits nestled in your ass from his upper arm for his lower right pointer and middle, using the former to rest back on. He watches you as you squirm on top of him, struggling against the other upper arm that's dimpling into your hip.

"Stop moving." He grumbles, jaw tight and brows notched together. "You're irritating me."

You don't heed his warning, continuing to squirm and gyrate to give your poor cunt some type of friction to distract from the fingers in your rear that curl and pull and scissor.

"I need more than what you're offering." You bite, your knees collecting pebbles as you press them into the ground beneath you. He hisses when you begin riding his tongue like a cock, your slick pooling from the muscle straight into the maw.

"Careful, foolish girl." He chuckles, smile more wicked with each flash he offers you. "I have plenty more to press inside you."

He doesn't make good on this threat. For now.

Instead, he watches as one of your hands leaves where it's found purchase on his shoulder and comes down to play at your clit. The pain you'd felt from his incessant stretching of both of your holes has subsided and is instead replaced by white hot pleasure. It blooms from deep in your belly all the way to the tips of your toes.

"Go ahead." He's smug and irritating as he looks down at you. "Cum."

His fingers quicken and his godforsaken lower tongue drills into you with renewed fervor, your own hands desperate in their strumming against your clit as if commanded by him. Your eyes roll back and the heat of your orgasm warms you from head to toe, voice cracking as you cry and curse at him for doing such a terrible, beautiful thing to you.

He hums in your ear, lapping up the sweat that's run down your neck all the way up to your hairline. Your chest rises and falls wildly as you try to regain your bearings. Your body feels sluggish and heavy, your head even more so. You fall forward, breasts pressed against his pecs and your forehead against the bone-like, marred side of his face.

"Rise."

"I can't." You mumble, the wonderful land of dreams is calling and you're struggling not to answer.

"You are reminding me why I loathe your kind so much. You're all feeble, weak little things." You can hear the displeasure that is surely plastered across that horrifyingly beautiful face, even without the sensation of his 'mask' moving against your skin.

"You seemed to enjoy yourself quite a bit, my lord." Your heavy eyelids come down, obscuring your rather minimal field of vision.

His hand comes around your neck, fingers pressing so hard you fear he may crush your windpipe. He pushes you back to gaze into your two eyes with his four, all wild and bushy tailed. If he were to let go, your pretty brains would become one with stone. That unfortunate face of his is a mix of infuriated and amused as he watches you perk back up, with wide blinking eyes.

"I am not your lord. I am the King of Curses. The monster of this forest. And right now, I am the predator and you are my prey."

When he lets go you're thrown into a coughing fit, shaky hands coming up rub against where you're sure the imprint of his fingers will be. He retracts his tongue and fingers with a grunt, leaving you feeling disgustingly empty. You try not to think too hard about why it is you feel so disappointed at the lack of him.

You go to rise but before you're more than a few inches off the ground, his fingernails are digging crescents into your skin. "Where are you off to little lamb?"

The moniker would be nice if it wasn't for the murderous glare he's sending your way. You quickly remember yourself, that you're sat in the beast's lair with the beast and his big sharp teeth right in front of you. Ready to bite, rip and chew right through you.

"I thought you'd tire of me resting on you." You lie, keeping your hips raised to aid in your deception. "I was mistaken. How could such a feeble, weak thing like me tire such a big strong being such as yourself?"

"Flattery will get you nowhere." He grumbles, pulling you forward so you fall into him once again. "Every time you speak it is like the annoying buzzing of an insect."

"Should I seduce you then?" You tease, you're becoming far too comfortable. Signs of warning chime in your head but you ignore them, reaching behind you and wrapping your fingers around the head of one of the cock closest to you. "What pleases the King of Curses? Blood, guts and my cunt?"

He says nothing, a look of boredom settles on his face and he smacks your hands away. His upper hands come to cup under your armpits and he lifts you, a squeal coming out of you involuntarily when he comes eyes level with your cunt.

"You think far too much of yourself." Your toes barely brush the stone beneath, his large grubby hands slide from where they're cupped under your armpits and down to your hips to keep you from fully touching down. Whether that's consideration for your ruined ankle or just mere ease of comfort for him, you're unsure. Though, you're leaning more toward the latter when his fingernails tear at your delicate skin and leave a bit of red in their wake.

"Maybe they will write sonnets about it." You laugh, breathless and squirming. Your fingers twist into his hair for some sort of make-shift grounding and he bites your clit lightly as a form of punishment, smiling as you yelp. His normal sized tongue laps at you when he finally plants you on his face. He applies long languid strokes over your clit, tonguing your slit before spitting against your ass.

"Sonnets about the way I lather you with my spit before stuffing you full of my cocks? Will they sing and rhyme and dance over your willingness to let me split you in half?"

You're brought back down once he's satisfied, turning your head and watching over your shoulder as he strokes over both his cocks with one large hand. It makes your mouth run dry and stale, haunted by the reality of your situation. There is nothing to jest over, not when there are two unholy pillars staring back at you.

"You're going to put one in me… normally." It's more of a statement than a question. He hums in acknowledgement, lining himself up with the entrance of your leaky cunt. "And the other…"

It feels too embarrassing to say.

"In your ass." Your face heats as soon as the crude words leave his mouth. You're much too aware of the discrepancy between his fingers and those damned monstrosities between his thighs. Much too big for something normal and human sized like yourself. He seems to read the apprehension in you, smiling devilishly as the other cock prods against your ass.

"You remember I'm human, right?" You're beginning to panic, eyes searching for just one fucking human thing about him.

"I don't need to remember when I can look at the misfortune that is you right in front of me." You hear the maw embedded in his stomach open once again and watch as he collects saliva from it to wet both of his pink flushed tips. He tests both against your holes, watching your face screw up as saliva and precum mix together against your skin.

You see stars when his cocks break past the first ring of muscle, penetrating both holes simultaneously while you pant against his neck. The sounds from him are akin to an animal victorious upon catching it's prey and your cries are that of a wounded one.

He's rough, wholly inhuman as he splits you in half on his appendages. You're sure his fingernails have broken skin on your back and only tear further at his previous assault on your hips. Every where his cursed hands roam is accompanied by a dull sting that's only continuously reignited by his ferociousness.

"Sukuna." It's the first time you've said his name and all four eyes twitch at the sound of it wrapped in your sobs. "You're going to break me in half."

Your admittance and tear stained face only egg him on, his hips rising to slap flush against your ass. His brutality knocks the wind out of you each time, the strain of taking him is overwhelming when he seats himself as deep as your insides will allow. You're half-sure there's still more of him to take, as you revel in the return of your breath. His lower mouth is keeping both you and himself slick with drool and when you're lucky, it plays at your ass.

The tongue from his more human mouth laps at your salty tears and he hums in delight, reveling in your salted pain that's bloomed into his sweetened pleasure. "Ah yes, weep for me child of man. Your despair is the best thing I've tasted yet."

He noses into that expanse of skin that connects your shoulder and neck, breathing in deep as his teeth graze their way over your pulse point. You're surprised when his growl isn't accompanied by a bite. "You smell like a whore."

"You said I smelled of fear earlier, perhaps your beastly nose is mistaken my lo—"

He growls at the honorific before you finish, "If you come here smelling like another man again, I will track down your little village and make you watch as I skin him alive and then eat him."

He bites into your neck, his sharp teeth making easy work of your delicate skin as if to solidify how effortless it would be for him to make good on his promise. "And then I will fuck you next to his pile of bones and make you taste his marrow from my mouth."

You don't question whether he's lying or not. You see the strange whirling of possession in those crimson eyes and you're not stupid enough to believe it's something sickly sweet as love. No, he is an animal ground down to it's most basic of instincts. The big bad wolf with the sacrificial lamb held between it's teeth. You say nothing, neither egging him on or refuting him entirely. You are enjoying this, much to your chagrin.

You delight in the way he snarls and lunges for you, you are something to be wanted and the beast in front of you wants you very much. And you lie to yourself, saying you only enjoy that it is you he has come to covet and not another unfortunate soul. You're so kind like that, after all.

You gasp when the thick fingers on one of his upper arms warms your cheek with a smack. Your brows knit together, furious and baring your much smaller teeth that— unlike his— could not rip through flesh and bone. "Have I scrambled your brain too much, girl? Are you unable to focus on the repayment of your debt?"

"Are you feeling needy? Would you like me to tell you how good it feels? How full your cocks make me and how I wish to never part from them?" You coo, feigning a look of desperate want.

He chuckles at the utter gall you have. No one had ever dared to even look his way since he was a child, much less talk back. It's invigorating. The most amused he's been in years. "Have I allowed you too much leeway, my prey?"

He flips you on your back and remains sheathed inside of you, caging you in with his much larger body and extra limbs acting as a barrier. Your breath is once again pushed from your gut as your spine flattens against the rock below. He is everywhere, inside and all around you. Suffocating you with his presence as he uses two of his many hands to push your legs so far back your kneecaps almost kiss your ears, your leg muscles screaming with resistance.

"Have I spoken out of turn, my predator? Will you devour me now?" Its all you can say before he's shifting forward on his knees, stuffing himself deeper. He's overbearing, the sediment below digging into you as you feel every vein and twitch from both front and back. You wonder if he might tear through membrane and organs until he's nestled comfortably inside with no resistance. That thought is quickly discarded when he pulls his hips back, both heads notching just at your entrance. A low whine escapes your parted lips and you pretend not to notice the throbbing of both cocks as it graces his ears.

You're warm and wet and much too pretty a thing underneath him. He wants to crush you, both body and spirit. To eat whatever is left just to bring you back to life and do it all over again. The fact that he can't is the only thing keeping air pumping into your godforsaken lungs. He knows exactly where they are— where all of your organs are honestly— how they taste, and wouldn't even have to ponder over how much force it'd take to make them a friend to his belly.

He settles for the feeling of you feverish and dripping down his balls. There's a high he's chasing, something nestled inside of you that he wants to pester and force out. You are human but you are vicious and filled with life, more interesting than your peers that he's sustained his evil self on for so many years.

You aren't faring much better, your descent into madness is being exacerbated by the intensity of his thrusts. It hurts and teeters you on the edge of orgasm all at the same time. Your stomach churns at the juxtaposition. He's lost himself inside you, pistoning so hard your battered ankle is the least of your worries.

What worries you the most is how much you like it. You want to feel his fingers between your ribs, strumming the bones to the beautiful music your bodies make. You wonder if he'd enjoy the way your meat tastes, if he'd hum to himself in pleasure as he sucks away the marrow, if he'd think of you fondly as he uses the splintered bones to pick you from his teeth.

You find your own hands desperate, clinging to him like second skin as you cry mere inches from his parted mouth. Overwhelmed and mind foggy, your lips keep trying to form words but there's nothing except for the sounds of grunting, panting and the slapping of skin.

He hooks his hands behind your neck, pulling you so roughly as he makes your neck crane. Your cunt is overstuffed with him, wrapping around him like a vice.

"Look at how malleable your human body is." His upper arm comes down to play at your clit, offering you a sliver of reality where the appendage once was. "Just a few hours ago you were cursing me and now you lay here, submissive and wanting for me. That beastly thing your kind despises so, kissing your womb."

You laugh, it's almost hysterical. Your chest rises and falls erratically, your shaky hands fisting the hair closest to his nape. "This is the punishment for my sinful life. Are you not here to help me delve deeper into that sin?"

"I am not so kind as that." You can feel the mouth on his stomach open up and begin to lick at your navel, "If anything I am a god, benevolent enough to spare your life."

"At the cost of my purity."

"You had no purity to speak of little lamb. Even if you had, it is much less than what you owe me anyway." The lower tongue replaces his fingers and he cages you in to keep your wandering eyes at bay yet again.

"With my luck, I will be paying you off for a lifetime." Your fingernails prick his scalp causing him to groan into your mouth as he shifts further forward.

"If you are lucky, perhaps." He bends your knee, thumb pushing the middle of the sole of your foot to make your toes flex and wriggle.

"I'd forgotten how ravenous mating makes me." He laughs, tongue lapping at one of your toes. He doesn't mind the dirt and whatever else may cling to them. "Perhaps I should take one of these to hold myself over."

You frown, not bothering with the useless task of wrenching it away. "Quit toying with me and keep your rhythm."

"Oh, but you make both so fun." You don't shy away from the glint of his bloodstained teeth, not when they come down to really bite at your neck now. He sinks them in further with every thrust inside your wetness and when he pulls back, he moans into you as he laves at your blood.

"Come on, village girl. Milk me for all I am worth, you know how." His teeth graze over your collar bone now, repeating the same steps of thrusting and biting and laving.

You tighten around him, shifting your hips up so far your tailbone lifts off the floor. You fuck him back, your cunt and ass working in tandem to suck and squeeze him harder. "A cruel thing you are."

He hums as he bites into your breast, making a show of how his pointy teeth break through your flesh. You wish it bothered you more, that you could bring yourself to protest but all you do is arch into him.

The wanting is maddening. If you had it your way, you'd flip over and ride him to your hearts delight. He knows that, of course. Which is why you stay laid on your back and beneath him.

His hips shift to meet you halfway and delve into a spot you didn't even know existed. A deep pressure forming as he snaps forward, goading him with each broken pant.

"Ah, yes. There she is." His tone is degrading and cruel. "Does that feel good, pet?"

The sound of your cunt is reverberating all around you, his muscled arms acting like a barrier for them to bounce off of. You can't deny that he feels good in your ass too, though you'll never say it aloud.

"You're going to make me pee, I think." You blush, that pressure begins to pulse somewhere deep within your pelvis. His lower arms come to hold you mid-air, pulling you harder into every smash of his hips.

"Then piss, no one is here to shame you for your depravity." He takes delight in tormenting you, his tongue working overtime on your clit. He's got you overstimulated beyond belief, taking ownership over every sensitive part of you and using it as leverage.

"You are quite depraved yourself." You manage between gasps of pleasure, "Thinking yourself so above humans but lying with one. You watched me take from you and instead of condemning me, you fuck me."

He's silent, neither agreeing nor denying. His only rebuttal is his cocks working in tandem to hit that spongey spot inside you from both sides. You're clawing wherever you can; his shoulders, back and even that mask-like side of his face. It's too easy for him to pin your arms down, letting the rubble dig into your wrists and forearms as he becomes more brutal.

You're so caught up in your own undoing that you don't notice how much louder he grunts, how much more sloppy his thrusts are. His lids have become heavy, flushed from the tip of his cocks all the way up to his ears. He pulsates inside you, and you cry out as something snaps deep within.

Your vision turns white, thighs begging to close as you writhe with him still pumping inside.

"Open. Your eyes and your legs." It's a tight lipped demand wrapped in venom, though it's miles away from where you lay in euphoria. You're sure you'd peed a little, definitely croaked out his name between gasps. You struggle against the restraints his hands have become as they continue holding your wrists down. Your whole body tingles, as if pleasure was kissing every atom of your being.

It twists, sickly and disgusting inside your stomach as you come down from your high. You whimper, eyes snapping open as Sukuna unsheathes himself from both of your orifices. You feel reality setting back in as you watch him use one hand to pump both shafts before letting his head loll back as he releases.

It's in your hair, dripping off your chin and making artful displays on your chest. You look at each other as if you've both been slapped back to reality. He stands to his feet, pulling your kosode from under you and using it to wipe himself off before throwing it back at you.

You lie there, stunned and naked in a pool of what is either your orgasm or your piss as you watch his muscles flex as he walks away with you.

You have never felt less clean in your life. Covered in cum, sweat and the scent of a beast on you. You try to ignore the bites he's left behind and stand to your feet to turn tail and leave.

"You may come and hunt in my forest, but you will not forget the price you must pay for doing so." His voice is grim, like he too regrets all that has transpired, waving you off like the insect you know he sees you as.