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And then that thing under my butt starts tomove.
I expect the corpse-like thing to be some sort of a sex toy, given the situation, and it is—but at the same time, it’s something else entirely.
The moment it touches me, something latches on to my clit, lapping it up like its life depends on it, then tendrils of something boneless, like tentacles, slide inside my holes—both of them.
It’s…alive.
Oh god, it’s some sort ofperson;not a spell,not a doll—which would have been its own brand of fucked-up—but an actual person. And I know that because it radiates heat under me and reaches for me in a way no artificial thing ever could.
Bile rises up my throat, disgust clamping my insides.
A doll? I think not,says a soft, weak voice, except I can’t quite tell where from.
I turn, trying to spot the source, but everyone’s either laughing, or staring at me, and the other girl, as we tremble on top of our…things.
You’ll have to look inward to find me, delicious one.
It’s inside my head.
It, whatever it is, can read my thoughts, and respond to them.
Somehow, that’s even more mortifying. I stare down at the pale figure, flushing and openmouthed. This thing doesn’t only have a cock, unlike what I first glimpsed when I stared at the girl who’s now riding again, next to me. It’s also blessed with several appendages, that slither and flick and get engorged, though I can’t see them. Ifeelthem.
First a doll, now a thing. I would be quite put out if you weren’t the most delectable of tiny things, old girl.
I can’t focus on the words, not when it’s moving with more purpose than any man ever has, knowing just where to touch, curve, how fast to slide in, how deep to go. It finds my G-spot and curves against it. I buck on the cushion, stopping the sob rising in my throat.
All right, all right…if it can talk, communicate somehow, it’s not quite an animal. I will myself to believe that to push the vomit threatening to climb up my throat down. It doesn’t change the fact that someone put it there, on me,inme. It’s being forced to do this to me.
Forced? I think not. I am feeding. Yes. And a lovely meal, at that.
I blink the tears prickling my eyes back, wishing they were all gone, so I could let go, enjoy this moment alone.
I am going to come. The…thing is going to make me, whether I want to or not.
Enough with “the thing.” I am an incubus, sweetness. If you must refer to me by race rather than name, use the proper one.
It has a name?
Seevar, now that you ask. And like you, I am but a slave for those highborns. They take us from our worlds with trickery and starve us until we’re incapable of taking our true forms; then they feed us just enough to survive. They’ll do the same to you.
So, in a way, he is also obligated to do this too. Somehow, it makes all of this terrible situation so much worse.
You’re not a punishment, old girl,the creature echoes in my mind soothingly.You’re dinner.
And it eats meso well,swirling around my clit like no tongue ever could, tingling, fast, firm. Inside, its tendrils are engorged, feeling distinctlybiggeras they probe my every crevice.
If someone had asked me whether I thought I’d ever enjoy having something in my ass, my answer would have been a firm no until today. It just seems so…dirty. Not in the fun sense of the word either. Given what comes out of there, I don’t see it as a hole anything is supposed to get in. But the way Seevar entered it, so slim at first, then larger, faster, deeper, moving in a dissonant rhythm with its thrusts inside my pussy, there’s no denying that I can’t get enough.
I rarely ever come during actual intercourse, and when I do, it’s after quite a while. But I can’t help it. I know it’s been mere instants, but I justburst.
No word comes, but IfeelSeevar’s echo of deep satisfaction, like a low rumble, or a purr vibrating through my mind and body.
I’m glad I come first; Junis bet against me, believing my contrary nature would push me to fight my orgasm like I’ve fought everything else every step of the way since he basically kidnapped me upstairs.
I don’t feel like fighting Seevar.
Junis snarls, getting to his feet. I barely see the movement as he grasps a handful of my hair, pulling back too late. My scalp burns as he tugs it up.
