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“You want some more pain? You want me to brand you as mine? A pretty little symbol to show everyone who you belong to?”
“Yes! Fuck yes!” I want whatever he’s willing to give me at this point. I just want to cum!
“Ask permission.” His voice stays even, like he’s not even phased by fucking me.
Why won’t he let me finish?! “Please! Brand me! Make me cum!”
His hand flattens against my back, right above the crack of my ass. “This will hurt.” A burning pain sears against my back as a red light illuminates the arena. Satan lets go of my hands, moving his thumb to my clit to ease the pain. Within seconds, I’m coming on his dick, an explosive scream leaving my throat that I know will be sore tomorrow.
He pulls out for long enough to flip me on my back, then pushes back in. “Aren’t you pretty. Covered in grass and mud. Dirty girl.” My body begins to tense again, already on the cusp of another orgasm. His words feel just as good as his cock inside of me. “Come again for me, Baby girl. I want to watch you fall apart.” His thumb barely grazes my clit and I blow. “So pretty.”
A few more pumps have him pulling out, white cum spurting all over my stomach. “You did so good, Baby. You got farther than I thought you would.”
Shit. I’ll work on my cardio if it means this happens again. Especially if he’s giving Daddy energy again. Though, I won’t call him ‘Daddy’ out loud.
You will one day.
My eyes fly to his. “Did I say that out loud?” A black eyebrow raises. I raise onto my elbows, sitting up somewhat. “Did you say that out loud?”
I branded you.
We can now communicate telepathically.
You’re mine.
Holy fuck. I have to control what I think now?
“So, you’re just naturally bratty. Good to know there will be multiple punishments in your future.”
He backs up, righting himself, before wiping his hand over my stomach, cleaning it of his essence. “Why is your cum white? And why did you pull out? I thought y’all couldn’t get me pregnant?” At least, none of them told me they could. Have they been trying to get me pregnant?! Those motherfuckers!
“Take a deep breath. We can’t get you pregnant while on Earth. Down here? You’re fair game.” Satan rights my dress and pulls me into his arms. “Are you okay?”
I snuggle into the crook of his neck and nod. “What was that red light?”
“That was the brand. It let all of Hell know that you belong to me.” His hand wraps around my hair and pulls me back so we make eye contact. “And I belong to you.”
My heart expands, knowing that the brand I now have connects us mentally and physically.
Thank you…. Daddy
You’re welcome, Sin
27. Bree
One of Rellick’s friends from the daycare asked if Rellick could sleep over. I said sure because it's been a chaotic week and maybe a break would be nice, but now I have nothing to do on a Friday. My whole life revolves around my son. I’m pathetic.
Once Satan and I realized we could talk to each other from different realms, he hasn't let me have a moment's peace.
Come to me. I’ll give you something to do.
His voice in my head makes me shiver in anticipation. After Sunday, my body has just started to recover. The handprint from Mammon is mostly gone, just a small quarter sized bruise is left in the middle of my neck. My back looks like I got a tramp-stamp tattoo of an upside-down pentagram the size of my palm. It doesn’t hurt anymore unless I think of it, then I can feel faint phantom pains from when Wrath branded me.
He branded me and yet I smile about it every time I think about it. Why didn’t the others brand me? I would be able to talk with them and we could have massive group chats! Was Satan the only one who really wanted me?
You know what? No. Fuck this. I needed girls' opinions. It’s a Friday night! I will not be stuck in my home and if my Devil really wants me, he’ll come find me. He wanted to call me a brat, so I’ll show him one.
Opening my closet, I look for an outfit that I would feel sexy in. I have way too many black clothes. I guess my emo phase never ended. Pulling on some ripped black high-waisted jeans that hug my butt and suck in my stomach, I stand in front of my mirror looking at my body. The bruise on my stomach from that first night with Sloth is still there. It hasn’t faded in the two weeks since it happened.
