This post was inspired by the writing competition that is being run by the lovely Pixie over at her blog. You can find out more about this and also enter yourself by clicking here.
I can hear the rhythmic tapping of her nails, sharp enough to draw blood with the lightest touch, with a dark glossy shine seeming to emphasise their danger. She’s whispering in time to the beat of her tapping, ‘something wicked this way comes, something wicked this way comes’, over and over, the mantra that summons me.
In the darkness I keep my eyes closed, I try to will her away, to deny her the chance to entice me. I reach my hand across to the other side of the bed to feel his warmth, to keep me focused, to keep me present, as my hand finds his chest though, firm and hot beneath the icy chill of my own hand, I feel my cunt begin to tingle as my eyelids open in a flash.
I’d forgotten how beautiful she is, everything about her is dark and beguiling, apart from her skin, which seems so pale as to highlight the true depths of her darkness. Her long, glossy hair is so unnaturally black, I recall touching it once and wondering if it was coloured by all the dark wicked things she’d done. Her eyes certainly reflect the depths of depravity that make her presence so irresistible.
‘Come to me.’
At her words my body moves of it’s own accord, falling to my knees, I crawl to her, my head brushing against her thigh in affection, as a I reach her, a low, soft mewing sound leaves my mouth and I chastise myself mentally for how much I’ve missed her. As if she can read my thoughts, she reminds me how I’ve always been the same. Convinced I’m different, that I don’t need her, when we both know we are cut from the same cloth. A cloth of perversion and lust, that she wraps around me like a cocoon so I can morph into the being that she created.
As her hands curl into my hair, I can feel her arousal start to move through me. Her eagerness is palpable, her wants, her needs, are mine too. I glance over at him, sleeping soundly, so trusting, so stupid.
It shocks me to have spoken out loud, and the volume of my outburst disturbs him a little and he maneuvers himself beneath the covers and they fall away from him slightly, causing his bare chest to be revealed, his arms bent in such a way that the muscles look defined and strong even as he rests.
‘No? Really? Are you telling me you don’t think he’s stupid? Even though he hasn’t noticed what you are? That he hasn’t realised you are to be worshipped, to be obeyed. You know I speak the truth, you know once you’ve shown him, once he understands, things will be better, you will be better.’
She was right that I needed to feel better, I’d been trying to ignore the drop in my mood and energy levels. I knew that focusing on those feelings would cause her to surface, that she would summon me to her, to make sure I made use of him, I would take from him what I needed, until he was too broken to give me anymore. They always broke, always. None of them were ever strong enough to play with me for long. I was encouraged not to get attached, to use them then throw them away. I had no use for broken toys after all. The problem with this one was that I had become far too attached, hence my reluctance to return to her, to embrace the part of me that revelled in the pain and humiliation that we caused together.
‘It’s time. Stand.’
As I stood before her, the familiar feelings started to rise within me, power, lust, pure, unadulterated joy, he was going to be mine, completely mine. The knowledge that he would unable to resist gave me a giddy, excitable energy, this was why she was impossible to resist, this feeling was too good to give up on.
We are one now as I move towards him, I am her, or she is me, it’s hard to know which it is, all I know is that I feel alive again. Even more so as I straddle him, my hands moving against his body, which begins to move beneath me, gentle, small motions of response, his cock hard against me. I laugh inwardly at how easy it is, at how little effort is required to make him want me. She’s right, he is stupid, stupid in his simplicity, his brain oblivious to what is in front of him, so long as his sexual needs are being met.
As my fingers entwine with his, pinning his hands to the bed, his eyes finally open. He see me and smiles, then as his eyes adjust to the darkness, he see something else, he sees her, I watch as he blinks, trying to bring me back into focus, convincing himself it was a trick of the mind, that in his sleepy state he’d imagined what he saw. The concern of what he sees will be replaced with a more pressing issue though, soon he will realise that he is immobilised, completely restrained. He will be baffled as to how it happened without him noticing, he will spend far too long trying to figure out what I’ve bound him with.
The familiar pattern begins as he starts to struggle to free his limbs from their bonds, I wait patiently before I begin, for him to go through the inevitable shouting as the fear and panic sets in, before, like they all do, he will resign himself to his fate, bewitched by the idea that whatever happens it was clear that he would at least be getting some kind of sexual attention. To my surprise though his panic never came, instead he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself.
His cock was harder than I had ever seen it before and even in the darkness I could see his eyes were wide and sparkling, eager even. I knew better than to hope, but I couldn’t help but wonder if he might be a toy I could keep. I’d always wanted one I could break then mend then use again.
I move my lips towards his, brushing against them ever so slightly, but not lingering long enough to kiss him, as I take them from his reach he groans in frustration, but stops when I start to whisper against his ear.
‘Do you want to play my game?’
‘Excuse me? Yes what?’
My heart soared, he knew how to play. Maybe he wasn’t stupid after all, perhaps he knew how to worship and how to obey, perhaps he could feed her without being destroyed in the process.
I proceeded to tease and torture him. Her nails dug into his flesh, the warm trickles of blood turning sticky as my hands and my body moved against him, with every touch, be it sensual or sadistic, he moaned with pleasure, even when in pain he seemed to delight in the sensations that were flowing through him. I could feel her getting lost in him, she was becoming greater than me, soon I would be silenced and he would be at her mercy, only then would I know if he was resilient enough to keep.
Her focus is absolute. He is everything to her right now. I exist only in the tiniest recess of her mind, silenced and stunned, as she unleashes herself upon him. She whispers something in his ear, and he moans with obvious arousal. She then proceeds to slap his face, he is momentarily silenced, before moaning again while his hips thrust, his hard, desperate cock searching for some way to find pleasure and release.
My own focus is concentrated on how hard he is, on how desperately I want him inside me and I feel her ebb away briefly to give me space to take what it is I want. The pleasure as his cock sinks into my hot, wet cunt is almost unbearable. It never feels this good without her.
I bend my head to kiss him, as my body moves against his, as he responds with thrusting, eager hips, causing a crescendo of orgasms to ripple through me, over and over again and I become aware of his voice, barely audible over my own moans.
‘Yes Goddess. Yes, use me, take it, take me, I’m yours, use me. Take it. All of it. All of me. Yes. Yes. Yes.’
This had never happened before. No one had ever embraced us in this way, no one had ever wanted us like this. He however, seemed to thrive beneath the power she gave me. Before I had realised what was happening I’d released him from his restraints, his hands moved against my body, holding me tight with a passion I had never felt. He made no effort to take control though, he remained beneath me, allowing me to fuck him with fevered desire, encouraging me, getting lost in his submission to me.
With a strength that rendered me so worn out it had to be the end of my fun, my final orgasm coincided with his own, and he groaned like a wild animal, as he finally succumbed to the release he had most definitely earned.
The next day he seemed delighted with our new found fun, he commented on how well I looked, that clearly being in control gave me a healthy glow. He had seen her, but he seemed unable to separate her from me, despite the contrast between my blues eyes and her black, or my light wavy hair, against the deep, straight black of hers. He didn’t seem to understand, or perhaps he didn’t care that together we fed her demonic needs, that she fed on his pain, on his blood, on his seed. Which meant we continued to feed the demon together, her visits becoming so frequent that it became entirely impossible to know where she began and I ended. I was now at all times her, dark, twisted and depraved and finally I felt free.