#bammy

At last, Sammy has all the sacrifices he could want and more. Each lurking ink creature wails as he drags them along; he’s come to find that the Ink Demon prefers his sacrifices fresh. Just the thought makes Sammy’s skin crawl with excitement. He could never wish for a more wonderful master.

Now, Sammy sets up the ritual, right in his room. Of course the largest, most developed shrine for The Demon was in his Prophet’s own space- the follower is obviously the most devoted on his own, considering his traversing the desolate halls for someone else’s benefit.

Painting the floor with a large circle of his own ink, the smile on the mask Sammy wears truly represents his feelings. The sacrifices writhe in place as Sammy finishes drawing the star inside the circle, absolutely giddy with his acts of service for his Lord. It takes no time for Sammy to place each and every sacrifice neatly in the center of the summoning circle, the sacrifices too petrified and hurt to resist. The whole situation makes Sammy smile beneath the mask, watching over it all. There’s only one last step; set up the candles and light them.

With ease, Sammy lights the candles around the rim of the summoning circle, overalls slipping as he bends down, too ecstatic to care. As he just manages to light the last candle, all five of his candles go out, leaving the room in complete darkness. The sound of ink dripping down the walls can be heard, as a low growl sounds around him, approaching from the dark. Sammy’s heart positively races- he’s never had a summoning work before! Typically, he just uses the ritual to let his Lord know where his offerings and sacrifices are, but now? His Lord of Ink is coming!

The growling and grunting grows louder, closer, as ink rushes into the room, making large puddles on the floor. Sammy stumbles back as the puddles of ink unify, rising up to create the majestic, gothic form of Sammy’s dear Lord; Bendy, the Ink Demon. The Demon stands before Sammy, his permanent smile creeping the other out. It takes a moment, but Sammy finally musters up the courage to speak; “M-my Lord! I have prepared these sacrifices for you, as always! I’m greatly honored y-you’ve shown yourself to me at last-!”

The Ink Demon takes a step towards Sammy, towering over him dangerously. “M-my Lord?” Sammy stutters, growing more nervous as he takes in the eerily elegant and beastly appearance of his Lord before him. Then, with a voice lower than anything Sammy’s ever heard, and much rougher, too, his Lord speaks; “I have come to you to request something of you, my Prophet. Do you accept?” Sammy’s excitement is clear, as he beams beneath the mask he wears, “A-anything for you, My Lord!”

The Demon makes a soft, grumbling noise, as he closes in on Sammy, breathing low and heavy. He reaches out his hand to the Prophet, threatening, sharp claws not poised to stab- rather, ready to grip. Somewhat roughly, but gentler than Sammy would’ve imagined, the Ink Demon pushes Sammy’s back into the wall behind him. The Demon’s hand encapsulates the entirety of Sammy’s shoulder, which makes Sammy almost aroused. In Sammy’s head, this moment is incredibly flustering; contact with his Lord, fulfilling some unknown request? His heart can’t help but send a little extra blood to his midsection.

Suddenly, his Lord leans in more, seeming to look down at Sammy; “Tell me, Prophet- for what reason do you serve me?” Feeling his Lord’s breath on his face almost causes Sammy’s eyes to roll back into his head, in pure ecstasy. He’d never imagined such delicious proximity to his Savior…

The pause before Sammy speaks doesn’t go unnoticed, but is simply forgotten as the Prophet regains his sense, “Oh, My Lord… if only to assist you in this decrepit world, where you hold supreme power..” The Ink Demon’s grip on Sammy’s shoulder tightens. His gaze, though hidden beneath the ink covering his eyes, bores into the eye holes of Sammy’s mask. “I’ve seen what you write on the walls, and I see how you’re acting now.. you live for this, don’t you?” The Demon asks, in that luscious, rumbling voice of his that makes Sammy go wild. Sammy’s response is simple; he nods, hands pressed against the wall behind him, almost adoringly staring up at his Savior.

The Ink Demon hums thoughtfully, tongue poking out of his mouth to lick his teeth, as he has no lips. All Sammy can do is wait, thinking up whatever may happen next- and, to his excitement, it doesn’t disappoint.

That tongue Sammy’s been eyeing, so wonderful, snakelike, and long, tastes the underside of Sammy’s cheekbone. A small squeak escapes the Prophet out of shock, as he tenses. Nowhere in Sammy’s mind had he predicted that. Despite the nature of it all, though, Sammy finds himself enjoying every second he’s beneath the mischievous demon’s gaze, longing for more as his pants start to tighten over his midsection.

Smirking, his Savior presses his boney, inky body into the Prophet’s, as the beast bends down and nudges Sammy’s head to the side with his cheek. Seeing his Lord’s horns so close, Sammy imagines grabbing them for support as he thrusts insi-

His thoughts are abruptly interrupted by the feeling of The Ink Demon’s long, wet tongue dancing over his shoulder. It elicits a shiver down Sammy’s spine, truly arousing him now, as The Demon’s teeth lightly graze his skin. Sammy’s breath hitches as the nipping grows more intense, the Ink Demon’s large, humanlike teeth scraping The Prophet’s inky skin more harshly, almost chewing lightly on the flesh. The demon grunts lowly as he pulls the strap of his Prophet’s overalls down with his jaw, giving himself access to all of the skin there without the issue of the gross-textured cloth. Sammy feels his heart truly race, his thoughts growing more and more lewd, until he feels his Lord’s large, clawed hands on his torso. The Demon’s fingers are long, thick, and especially sharp at the end; one hand can almost wrap around Sammy’s entire side. He can’t help the way he tenses, his thighs clenching and coming to rest together, tight. His Lord notices this, his frozen grin almost widening, as some of its ink drips down and onto Sammy’s mask. The Prophet’s hands claw the wall, halfway overstimulated by the situation, but in the best way possible.

The Demon’s permanent grin glares down at his prophet, as he gives his servant a gentle squeeze. Sammy bites his lip, swallowing a desperate noise, learning something about himself he wasn’t yet aware of. He..certainly appreciates his Lord’s size, and is sure that’ll apply to much more later on. And, unbeknownst to The Prophet, his Lord feels similarly…

The Lord of Ink’s tongue stretches out from his mouth once more, dripping with his thick, inky saliva. The fork at the very end of his tongue caresses Sammy’s mask, as the demon growls rather possessively. At that, Sammy practically melts, knees buckling with need, though he’s held up by his Demon Lord. The demon’s skillful tongue pushes through a hole near the mouth, delicately lapping at Sammy’s cheek underneath. Completely trapped beneath The Demon’s grasp and sheer size as it towers over him, Sammy muffles a soft moan at the way his Lord’s tongue teases him. Despite being earless, his Lord hears the sound as it’s caught in Sammy’s throat, and growls rather seductively, beginning to massage and put pressure on Sammy with the hand he’s using to push said prophet into the wall. The rise and fall of Sammy’s chest as he’s massaged is very noticeable, to The Demon’s delight. His toy is so cute and flustered like this…his little servant, trying not to groan, simply pleases the beast.

The Demon’s tongue skillfully pulls Sammy’s mask up slightly, to The Prophet’s horror. His face- it’s half visible, he’s hidden it so, so long, always fearing to be seen, but-!

Sammy moans loudly as the seductive demon roughly grabs his ass while pressing down on him closer to his midsection. All of the prophet’s worries melt away as his Lord captures his lips in a confusing, but rather sexy, kiss. Although the Ink Demon may be lipless, his teeth, scraping against Sammy’s face, while his beautiful tongue explores the smaller, provides Sammy with a distinct pleasure. The texture is so new, so special.. only his Demon Lord could feel so perfect for him. Sensing no issue, the demon continues his exploration in Sammy’s mouth, long tongue tangling with his Prophet’s, mixing their saliva deliciously. The Prophet adores the taste of salty, yet iron-filled ink from the spit of his Lord, adoring how he can experience such from the demon he worships so eternally.

To Sammy’s surprise, the demon puts one of his majestic, horselike legs between Sammy’s own, leaving his knee pressed right up against Sammy’s crotch. Unwillingly, the aroused Prophet doesn’t manage to disguise a desperate mewl, at which The Demon is convinced to do more. It starts to grope Sammy’s chest with one hand, making the man ever harder in his lower region, the demon delighting in the way the prophet throws his head back, noticing that his breath is heavier than before. Soon enough, it’s not just the ink of the demon’s knee that’s leaving a stain on Sammy’s overalls; as Sammy moans more freely, drops of precum leak from his dick, making a wet spot on his clothes.

It seems the beast isn’t entirely experienced with such human behavior, as his growls turn amused, almost teasing the worshipper for his sheer arousal.