The Demon Child

Bryan Cranberg didn’t feel my eyes as I watched them take him to the back room. He was a man of eccentric tastes, something I do appreciate, ravenously so. It was these eccentric tastes that brought him to this drug infested area to a brothel that promised a truly…otherworldly experience.

Naturally, when Bryan was told that there were rumors that people had sex with demons there he was interested. Not for the true demonological purpose of it—he didn’t believe in such nonsense. But as a man who enjoyed many kinks, he looked forward to what he believed would be more of a roleplay experience than a mystical one.

I could taste his sexual energy, like a strong odor that sits heavy in the air, promising a taste but only giving the ghost of it. I could feel his erection, looking at the woman in the center of the room.

She sat in the center of a pentagram, a sheer black thong and lace bralette the only cloth covering her skin. As the candles at the point of each star were lit, the chanting began, sending her back in a curving arc that left only the tips of her feet touching the floor. Bryan was impressed with the theatrics, appreciating the cameltoe created by her straining muscles, her pelvis pushed out toward his face. Then her eyes rolled into her head and she dropped, slamming to the floor as the last word finished in the air.

I opened my eyes then, gazing at the white drop ceiling above us, the metal holding the stained tiles brown and black from years of smoke—drug and candles alike. Indeed, as I sat up and gazed into Bryan’s eyes, I could see the red veins of a man who had recently shared half a joint with his friend prior, to help relax him for the experience.

I smiled, a slow, lazy smile as I took him in. Perhaps he would think this was just a bad trip. He slowly entered the pentagram, pausing at the last line chalked in the ground.

“Don’t forget—you cannot cum inside her,” one of the acolytes warned. I snarled at him, then continued smiling at Bryan as though nothing has happened. He shot a glance at the man and then stepped inside. Finally.

I pounced on him, ripping off his shirt so roughly I sent buttons scattering to the sides of the room. His bare torso gleamed with sweat in the flickering of the firelight, highlighting what muscle his tall frame had, stretched over large bones. I grabbed his chin, running the tips of my fingers down his chest and onto his bulge, gripping his hard shaft through his pants. He gasped slightly as I forced my mouth onto his, ripping his jaw down to allow my tongue to rake the inside of his mouth.

I drew back, letting him catch his breath as I purred, “Smokey,” and bit his ear. He yelped slightly and I knelt, unbuckling his dress pants and ripping out his belt with a smacking sound. I held it in my hand, flipping it so the metal end and the leather end formed a loop. I put it under his chin. “Do you like being… controlled?”

“Yes,” he panted, his face flushed. He yelped as I swung the belt across his ribs, landing a hit that raised a red rectangle on his right side. I grinned, unzipping his pants and popping the ridiculous small metal hook that took the place of the button. It broke easily,

dropping his pants to his ankles. I pulled his underwear over his erection and sent it down with the pants, engulfing him at the same time.

He groaned as I bobbed, swirling my tongue around his shaft as I sucked. The girl’s body might need to breathe, but I had no qualms pushing her to death. I could still do what I wanted. Still, as I deepthroated the moaning Bryan I could feel panic rise in her as she suffocated. At the brink of consciousness, I pulled back, letting her gasp in air desperately. I wanted her to feel everything.

I grabbed him by the balls, squeezing them down as I licked up his shaft and around the head of his penis. I licked upward, breathing in the sex that rolled off of him. I stopped at his neck, ripping his head aside by his mousy brown hair to bite him, then suck hard on the hole I created.

He cried out, pushing back for a second before stopping himself. I faced him again, wrapping a leg around him and grinding the soft cloth of the thong against his throbbing member. “Did you not like that?” I asked, flashing him a grin. Blood covered the front of my teeth and more trickled down his neck. He shook his head, but the strength of his erection told otherwise. It pressed against me, the fire in his veins reaching a frenzy I was familiar with—we call it the succubae stare, a look of hunger and lust that soon consumes most men into a sexual state that is rather primal compared to what humans are usually capable of accomplishing, given their rather fragile state.

He started to speak, but I raised a finger, running its sharp nail around his lips as I moved his other hand to my breasts. The woman I was in was nice—young and supple, a perfect host. He pulled my bralette over my head after two large groping motions. I laughed as he tossed it aside, giggling as he kissed my breasts one at a time. “Good, worship me,” I commanded. He massaged my breasts, pinching the nipples on occasion. I wrapped my hands around his cock as he did so, using the spit that soaked it to lubricate my hand as I worked up and down his shaft.

He sat back and removed my thong, suddenly decisive and I stood, spreading my legs and grabbing him by his hair again. For as tall as he was, he stooped obediently as I shoved him toward my crotch, his mouth already open as I ground against his face. I let out a long sigh as he worked, feeling him warm up the girl’s body as I felt myself grow wetter from his attentions. Eventually, I stood back, laying on the ground and spreading my legs.

The lust had taken him completely. He took me instantly, pushing himself inside of me. We both sighed, his pace quickening rapidly as I ground up against him. As he became more frenzied I flipped him forcefully, sliding him back in so I was riding him, a hand around his throat. I ground my pelvis into him as he bucked beneath me, feeling his girth swell inside me. Aware he was close, I tightened my grip to the point where his moans stopped, feeling him buck several times before erupting deep inside the girl, each shiver running across his body sending another thick rope of sperm inside.

Soon his bucking began again, for a different reason. I had not let go of his throat. He panicked, scrabbling at the ground as the people in the room watched impassively. “You came inside,” I whispered with glee. His eyes were wide, bloodshot. As I pressed with more force, snapping some of the girl’s fingers I was possessing. A vessel in his eye broke, spilling more red across his eye. He slammed his arms into mine, snapping the bones of the girl, but the grip did not lessen. I could feel her screaming in pain inside me, but not a whisper of her made it to my lips, locked in an animalistic smile.

He bucked for another minute before going still, his face purple with strain. I stood, his still erect cock sliding out of me, feeling the cum in me throb. Time to make a baby.