#demon fucker

“A witch forming marks? What is the meaning of this?” He asks in awe, and his own demonic marks shimmer under the candlelight.

A soft gasp leaves you at the familiar patterns you’ve seen so many times before on your fellow witches. How had you never realized this? The connection between a demons blots and the illness taking control of these witches. Suddenly it was all making sense, the deathly power surges that they couldn’t contain on their own.

“I was hoping you could help me figure that out,” you whisper and his gaze snaps up to meet yours, the hum in your body buzzing harder by the second.

Then it’s weeks that pass in the blink of an eye. You rarely leave your home and refuse to let anyone inside. It’s clear your coven members worry for you but that’s the last thing on your mind. With your days now full of this alluring demon who you can’t get enough of leaves space for little else.

He moves around your home like he owns it, having grown more comfortable there than you ever would’ve expected. The two of you have come to work in tandem, your hand reaching and his is already there waiting as you trade old books, passing each other ingredients without a thought while making potions you’ve never even heard of, and your bodies moving as one as you work.

Every interaction between you is charged with something deeper, something you don’t dare to speak of. Yet it speaks through every brush of your hand against his, how neither of you move away whenever you bump into the other, the smiles and glances you send each other that linger a few beats too long, and that both your marks shimmer in each others vicinity.

And just like the others, as your marks move up your arms and down your body, your power grows stronger. But something about this demon helps calm the magic swelling inside you. His presence soothes the storm, his touch calms the spikes of your emotions. Ones that are starting to happen far too often for comfort.

Leaning against the table you clench your fists as another wave of anger urges you to lash out, to unleash the emotion swirling inside you. Your body shakes with the force of trying to resist but you hold on as long as you can.

Just as fear it’ll overcome you, the demon’s chest molds against your back, his arms curl around you and tug you close. That soothing sensation courses through you and you sigh in relief, melting into his arms like you’ve been doing it your entire life.

“I hate these marks,” you murmur, voice filled with pain.

The demon freezes against you and for a long moment he doesn’t respond. Neither do you. Then a moment later he leans down, nuzzling into the streaks that have bloomed on your neck. His own shimmer and yours respond immediately.

“I don’t. I adore them. You just need to learn how to control them,” he rasps.

His breath on your skin makes that constant buzz return to your body as if calling out for him. Warm arousal bubbles up in your belly and looks in your panties. You know he can sense it all yet he doesn’t rush a thing.

“Your coven’s tapped into a power it wasn’t prepared to handle but you have me now. Let me help you.”

All you can feel anymore is him as his fingers skim across your skin, tilting your chin up just in time to claim your lips in a kiss that’s been a long time coming. A soft moan leaves you, your body turning to face him before he picks up your plush frame with ease and plops you down on top of the table.

Low demonic growls vibrate from his throat as he pushes at your clothes like they’re a nuisance, his lips curl in a sneer as his mouth dances with yours like he’s trying not to just tear them to shreds.

Only when the lack of oxygen pinches at your lungs does he break from the kiss and immediately make his way down your skin. Pressing feverish kisses along every inch of bare skin he exposes.

“Your marks… they’re gorgeous. Just like the rest of you. If only you’d embrace them, embrace me,” he pants against your chest and you gasp as he takes one of your perky buds into his mouth, sucking till they’re swollen, then moving onto the next.

You writhe against the table, small whimpers leaving you as you get hotter and hotter, the mess between your thighs dripping down your legs and onto the table.

As if he can sense just how needy you are he leans back and forces your thick thighs apart, groaning at the slick that gushes out of your weeping pussy.

“You even have them here. How beautiful,” he purrs.

His long clawed fingers slide through your folds, tracing the streaks till you’re crying out and rocking your hips into the movement. You get so lost in the rhythm and the constant stimulation that you don’t notice him replacing his fingers with his cock until he’s sliding in and stretching your sensitive walls to their very limits.

You start to scream only to have them silenced by his mouth as he kisses you again. Your magic pulses in time with your throbbing cunt as he starts thrusting his cock deep inside you, slipping deeper and deeper with each rock of his hips.

Meanwhile he fucks your mouth as hard as he fucks your pussy, swirling his tongue against yours in time with every brutal thrust. You feel his tip smash against your cervix just as his tongue pushes into your throat and suddenly he’s everywhere.

Consuming you from the inside out. For a second you panic, your nails scratching down his back and he hisses, picking up pace and rutting into you even harder. You feel unsteady, body moving in time with his only to realize it’s not your body moving but the magic inside you. As you let him in the overpowering magic settles into your bones like it’s always meant to be there and it increases your pleasure to a point you’ve never known.

The demon grunts as he slams his cock along your walls, molding you to the shape of him. He’s breathless but he’s never felt more alive than he does now and he can’t stop staring at the streaks that resemble his one. Like you’re his, all his now. It makes his cock swell within you.

“Tell me you love your marks as much as I do. I want to hear you,” he growls, ducking his head to worship every inch of marked skin he can reach.

You cry out, the pressure in your belly building, so close to bursting.

“I love my marks,” you whine, trying to sound convincing.

“Louder,” he snarls and nips at your throat.

Every thrust he makes you scream those words till you shatter around his cock, your vision flashing white and your release spraying out of you in a brilliant stream of arousal. Your demon roars as he buries himself to the hilt and sends spurt after spurt of his thick cum to splash against your cervix till you’re coming again for him.

He helps work you through the intense pleasure, rocking into you steadily and holding you close. When the fog starts to clear from your mind a burst of clarity booms and you realize you’ve been going about this all wrong. Trying to be rid of the streaks is impossible. It’s only through accepting them can you manage the power that comes with.

And all along it was your demon helping you to see that. To accept it. Now you think you finally are and if you can convince your coven members to do the same you think everything may just be ok.

The fallen angel: You see them for the first time, a sexless humanoid with a muscular physique with eyes that reflect broken stars, and wings permanently stained with blood. They wear all black, clothing that looks like they could barely manage to place upon themself. They seem shy at first, like they're worried they'll hurt you just by being there, slowly you extend a hand for them to hold, and cautiously they gently take it, for what's probably the first time in a long time their face shows a smile.

Computer: Slowly the creature is wheeled out by an attendant in a gas mask, an ancient looking monitor surrounded by wires, placed in a wheelchair to make up for the fact that such a creature lacks any limbs. For a few momments you wonder if the stories are true, and if such a being could truly be alive. Then the screen lights up and displays a single red eye, and you understand...

Cyborg: You see them sitting there, nothing to eat, nothing to drink, they didn't even bother wearing clothing. You can see their old flesh and hair on their upper face but everything else looks so very skeletal, even the lower part of their face is like a gas mask, with no mouth or nose. You sit next to them, looking at the parts that hold together their silver body, looking almost like restraints more then they do body parts. You're about to ask them something but a noise reminds them of something and they start to break down, you hold them and tell them they're safe, and you can feel their oddly warm body start to become calm.

Sun and Moon: Two glowing shapes stand before you, each floating and ethereal. One is in the shape of a crescent moon, while the other is in the shape of a sun with rays. You're not sure if it's alive or not or one being or two. Slowly both of them start saying things, wondering what you are and what they're supposed to do to you, sounding more like someone talking tho themself then two beings arguing. Eventually they decide that you're theirs.

Werewolf: for a moment they look entirely human, a slightly chubby grad student with glasses and messy hair looking at you with eyes that aren't a color that human eyes ever are. They looked for a moment to see if you're safe to let their form shift in front of. You can see them change for a moment, cycling through forms, first a humanoid with a few lupine features on their body, then a creature that could pass entirely for an actual wolf, then a mess of fur and claws and jaws and sharp teeth, then a bipedal creature with a wolflike head and fur all over their body. The final form seems to be the one they're most comfortable with, at least around you, at least for this moment.

Fae: They look over you, sitting on the back of their chair instead of sitting on its seat. Their body looks almost human but there is something off about it, like they possess a beauty so perfect its entirely inhuman, almost creepy. They flash you a quick smile, the molecules in the air around their body seemingly terrified by their presence. For a few moments they shift your body, changing your age, your sex, your species, and then putting you back as they were before. They magically remove the worn denims and leathers they were wearing, for a split second showing their naked salmacian body, then they drape themself in a costume of opulent gold and blood red rubies, as they prepare to hold court with you.

Alien: They're massive, like a mantis, with an exoskeleton that shimmers with a thousand colors like bismuth or like starling's feathers. Their crested head looks down at your big golden eyes, that seem weirdly happy. They extend a scythe like arm to touch you with, and you think they're going to attack you, but all they do is gently pet your head. You're very aware of how easily they could hurt you, but they don't, and with them next to you, you feel so safe.

Goblin: The creature walks around you in circles, a blood-stained hoodie on their body, they're far shorter than you but you're very sure that they're stronger, their body skinny not slender but still looking like it could pounce so quickly, like a serpent stalking its prey. Their eyes are so red, like a mouse's, their fangs so sharp, their skin pale white but with thick black veins throughout it. They sniff you for a moment, and then identify you as something safe, and hug you, holding you very tight, as something that's theirs.

Vampire: They're just sitting there, looking at you with their big golden eyes, their inhumanly pale skin contrasted with their long black hair, their completely sexless body wrapped in fancy clothing from hundreds of years prior. Their most inhuman feature is their mouth, massive, snake like, with exposed fangs, and mandibles to help them latch on to prey. You'd expect the sounds they'd make to be like screeches, but they're singing the most beautiful song that you've ever heard, like the sirens of the Odessey. You let them gently pet your head for a few moments, as you do the same for them, then you take out a knife to draw blood from the palm of your hand, and they lap it up so very gently, like a creature eating treats out of your naked hand.

Demon lord: they stand before you, tall and proud, their head many horned and covered in shimmering red scales, their arms muscular and their belly fat, their bottom half quadrupled and reptilian. They look down at you and places something into your hand, it's a food of some sort but it doesn't match the profile of anything you've ever eaten or even seen before in your life, each ingredient entirely alien to your senses. When you take a bite of it they smile and ask if you like it. It tastes better then anything that you've ever eaten before, your tongue filling with eldirch and unknowable things, as your ambitions begin to completely melt away.

Ghost: slowly you walk closer to the spirt, ignoring the others warnings, knowing that you're walking into danger. Eventually you can see them, contrasted with the night, their bloodied form ethereal yet very very present. You can see the broken windows around you, you know that it would be very easy for them to take your life if they wanted to. But they don't, at least not for now, and slowly you extend a hand, and watch them slowly come down twords you to take it.