Sovereign Tea
Planetoid
- Joined
- Nov 3, 2013
The redhead sucking me off really needs to cum. But she can’t; not until I let her.
Her feet are sprawled all out to one side. It’s her wedding day. She’s wearing high pump heels and she’s lying in a puddle of lace and silk. Her cunt juices make everything slick. The sounds of schlicking and slurping fill the bathroom I’ve cornered her in.
The dress is one of those abhorrent, fluffy things with great big pillows around her arms and such—of course I ripped all that off. She’ll look a little trashy at the dinner, but I don’t give a fuck.
I know her name; I know everything about her, in fact. I know her whole history and what a good girl she is. Top of her class. Works at an animal shelter. Tweets voraciously about the rights of all humans. You know the type. I also know she’s been visited in her dreams for the past seven days by a demon who turns her on more than her pathetic drip of a fiancé—well, he’s her husband now—and who wouldn’t let her cum.
I know that, of course, because I am that demon.
She was on the altar swearing her love not even fifteen minutes ago, mindlessly repeating what the priest said about obedience. Really, though, on her mind was my big fucking demon cock and how badly she needed to cum. Her family thought she was nervous. Truth is, her pussy was so fucking wet and trembling that she wouldn’t even be able to tell you the difference between circles and squares.
I pop my gigantic demon cock out of her mouth and throat—it takes a few seconds, because it’s enormous, and because I like seeing the bulge retract.
“N-no, p-please…” My precum makes her lips and chin shine.
“You have to give me your soul.”
“W-what?”
“Give me your soul, and I’ll give you my cum.”
“I…I…”
“When I give you my cum, that’s when you cum.”
“O-oh.”
She looks conflicted. I know she isn’t. I’m an old pro.
But you know what? I’m pretty tired of good girls. They’re all the same. Bright shiny outsides, drab beige insides.
The bathroom door opens. We made a mess inside, knocking over the stalls. One toilet is smashed from my foot. I don’t care how it looks.
“Hey, stupid? They’re looking for you. So…oh. Shit.”
I see You for what you are right away. A soul so dark and twisted you’d be recruited into my profession if it wasn’t so full already. A thief; a killer; a superior, snotty, vain being. And god, do you deserve that vanity—shaming every last woman at this wedding with your gorgeous fucking body and so-angelic-it’s-demonic face.
An outfit designed to fuck with people's heads, so tight and revealing. Valentino dress; Alaia heels.
Eat shit, the look says, and don't even think about cumming to anyone but me for the rest of your dumb, stupid life. Also, fuck you!
Yeah. Fuck. Yeah.
You look at me—my adonis-body, my demon-sized cock. The only thing hinting at my immortal nature is the red fire in my eyes. The pre-cum streaming and dripping all over your “friend’s” face. She looks terrified; the rape here is just blatantly obvious.
I can smell the instant arousal flooding your pussy. You like seeing women treated like this...and worse. Much, much worse.
You raise a perfect eyebrow, jut out one delectable, fertile hip. “Why are you bothering with her when I’m around?”
Good. Fucking. Question.
* * * * *
A demonic being is smitten with the only kind of girl who can keep up with him—a (preferably filthy rich and) terribly vain, arrogant, gorgeous one. He fulfills all her darkest, sickest, cruelest desires and gives her the power and beauty she craves; she urges him on and embraces his wicked nature, maybe gives him some babies. Match made in hell.
Kinks: Harems. Mind control. Impregnation. Incest. Corruption. Evil shit.
Limits: Kids. Gore. Animals.
Her feet are sprawled all out to one side. It’s her wedding day. She’s wearing high pump heels and she’s lying in a puddle of lace and silk. Her cunt juices make everything slick. The sounds of schlicking and slurping fill the bathroom I’ve cornered her in.
The dress is one of those abhorrent, fluffy things with great big pillows around her arms and such—of course I ripped all that off. She’ll look a little trashy at the dinner, but I don’t give a fuck.
I know her name; I know everything about her, in fact. I know her whole history and what a good girl she is. Top of her class. Works at an animal shelter. Tweets voraciously about the rights of all humans. You know the type. I also know she’s been visited in her dreams for the past seven days by a demon who turns her on more than her pathetic drip of a fiancé—well, he’s her husband now—and who wouldn’t let her cum.
I know that, of course, because I am that demon.
She was on the altar swearing her love not even fifteen minutes ago, mindlessly repeating what the priest said about obedience. Really, though, on her mind was my big fucking demon cock and how badly she needed to cum. Her family thought she was nervous. Truth is, her pussy was so fucking wet and trembling that she wouldn’t even be able to tell you the difference between circles and squares.
I pop my gigantic demon cock out of her mouth and throat—it takes a few seconds, because it’s enormous, and because I like seeing the bulge retract.
“N-no, p-please…” My precum makes her lips and chin shine.
“You have to give me your soul.”
“W-what?”
“Give me your soul, and I’ll give you my cum.”
“I…I…”
“When I give you my cum, that’s when you cum.”
“O-oh.”
She looks conflicted. I know she isn’t. I’m an old pro.
But you know what? I’m pretty tired of good girls. They’re all the same. Bright shiny outsides, drab beige insides.
The bathroom door opens. We made a mess inside, knocking over the stalls. One toilet is smashed from my foot. I don’t care how it looks.
“Hey, stupid? They’re looking for you. So…oh. Shit.”
I see You for what you are right away. A soul so dark and twisted you’d be recruited into my profession if it wasn’t so full already. A thief; a killer; a superior, snotty, vain being. And god, do you deserve that vanity—shaming every last woman at this wedding with your gorgeous fucking body and so-angelic-it’s-demonic face.
An outfit designed to fuck with people's heads, so tight and revealing. Valentino dress; Alaia heels.
Eat shit, the look says, and don't even think about cumming to anyone but me for the rest of your dumb, stupid life. Also, fuck you!
Yeah. Fuck. Yeah.
You look at me—my adonis-body, my demon-sized cock. The only thing hinting at my immortal nature is the red fire in my eyes. The pre-cum streaming and dripping all over your “friend’s” face. She looks terrified; the rape here is just blatantly obvious.
I can smell the instant arousal flooding your pussy. You like seeing women treated like this...and worse. Much, much worse.
You raise a perfect eyebrow, jut out one delectable, fertile hip. “Why are you bothering with her when I’m around?”
Good. Fucking. Question.
* * * * *
A demonic being is smitten with the only kind of girl who can keep up with him—a (preferably filthy rich and) terribly vain, arrogant, gorgeous one. He fulfills all her darkest, sickest, cruelest desires and gives her the power and beauty she craves; she urges him on and embraces his wicked nature, maybe gives him some babies. Match made in hell.
Kinks: Harems. Mind control. Impregnation. Incest. Corruption. Evil shit.
Limits: Kids. Gore. Animals.
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