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Junis isn’t the first man to try to use his physical force to get me to do what he wants, over the years. The three others ended up spending the day at the hospital after what I did to them. I crushed and twisted bones. I shoved my fingers in eye sockets. I fought and I won.
There’s no fighting someone whose hold feels like a steel vise. He’s unnaturally fast and strong. Not to mention that he could order me to stay still. He could order me do to whatever he’d like. One word is all it would take. The fact he doesn’t tells me heenjoysmy pathetic attempts at fighting him off. At escape.
I want to bite his cock hard enough to draw blood, hard enough to tear it off. I want tohurthim so badly.
It’s not the first time the instinct, the need to harm someone has come to me. As a child, I used to get in all sorts of trouble for answering slights with my fists—particularly those directed towards my sister—but I wastaughthow wrong it was; not only because communication is a healthier way to resolve conflicts, but because I was stronger than the average kid my age. Stronger than the averagehuman. And using supernatural abilities against regular mortals is unethical. Wrong. Evil. My parents bothered to explain it to me, again and again, until I understood.
If a sup punches a reg, it’s just as unfair as a two-hundred-pound musclehead turning his fist on a slip of a girl.
Now I am the weakling at a monster’s mercy, and no one has taught him that lesson.
Hedeservesto suffer for what he’s doing to me, what he likely did to others. And I want to be the one to inflict it upon him. To twist a knife and watch him bleed out slowly. All my desire to see, to cause pain, flies back into my veins with a vengeance, and there’s no stopping it, no reasoning it.
One day, I will destroy him, and I willenjoyit.Delight in it, like he’s delighting in my terror, my humiliation, my forced submission.
I just have to survive him first.
The tears that have gathered in my eyes finally fall freely as I let him shove it in my mouth.
I don’t suck him. I make no effort whatsoever to please him, but he doesn’t seem to want me to. He’s quite happy to fuck my mouth.
His cock is too thin for it to choke me, although he shoves it unceremoniously, hitting the back of my throat and making me gag, my body protesting against the intrusion.
I close my eyes as I try to relax. It’ll be over soon. I let him use me, take what he wants from me, just as I let Seevar force pleasure on me.
I can’t tell how long it lasts. Presumably less than twenty minutes. By the time he withdraws and bathes my face in sticky slime, I’m numb. Mindless.Exhausted.I’ve ran out of tears some time ago.
Sadly, I didn’t vomit on him, though I certainly would have liked to, but I don’t have much of a gag reflex. The habit of swallowing too many painkillers dry has trained it out of me.
I fall back against the wall, utterly spent.
“What in the name of Morrigan is this?” Junis demands.
I don’t even bother to look up, defeated.Exhausted. And I don’tcarewhat could possibly outrage him so much. But the collective reaction—shocked gasps, loud movements, finally make me move.
Seevar, the creature that was a doll or corpse under me moments ago has taken the shape of healthy man. Powerfully built—like a runner, with lean muscles—a good six feet tall at least. He’s bald, with silver eyes. It’s a wonder I know it’s him, given the state he was in moments ago, but I just know.
Now that he no longer looks like he was exhumed, it occurs to me that I just had sex with a complete stranger. He was all around me. As well as in mymind.I can’t even call it rape—not truly. All of those assholes bidding on my performance—they raped us both. And then Junis certainly forced himself on me.
But Seevar? I should be so furious towards him. I guess that feeling is reserved to the monster holding me under his spell at the moment. The incubus’s new appearance only incites some disgust and a fair bit of confusion.
“I thought it was bound!” Junis thunders, taking three steps back.
Unless I’m mistaken, he’s afraid of him.
For one wild, wonderful moment, I think maybe that’s it. Maybe I’ll be saved.
But three creatures, each no taller than four feet, appear with a deafening crack, whips in hand.
“It’s been starved for a year, sir,” the bartender rushes to say, as the small jailers crack their electrified, buzzing weapons. “Our apologies. It shouldn’t have recovered so fast. Your portal travel will be complimentary, sir. Courtesy of the Pathfinders.”
Before my baffled eyes, Seevar evades the whips, moving too fast for me to completely catch his movements; my eyes try to follow, but he’s a blur.
“Back in your basic shape,fiend!”one of the creatures squeaks.
Imps.
Somehow…I know they’re imps.
