Siela, the witch has her eyes set on binding the gentleman demon, Travinsky to her, and will do so at any cost. But will he prove too much for her to handle? What will happen to her if she cannot make him yield, before the time limit burns out? She's about to find out in this 4739 word story with dubious consent, bdsm, orgasm denial, foot worship, and magic. Adults only! All characters over 18. More
Siela, the witch has her eyes set on binding the gentleman demon, Travinsky to her, and will do so at any cost. But will he prove too much for her to handle? What will happen to her if she cannot make him yield, before the time limit burns out? She's about to find out in this 4739 word story with dubious consent, bdsm, orgasm denial, foot worship, and magic. Adults only! All characters over 18.
As his tongue flicked against the roof of her mouth, pushing aggressively against her own tongue, she could taste the tell-tale flecks of soil and saliva. Resisting the urge to vomit, she thought vigilantly about, but did not dare to bite his tongue off. Though being a demon, he could easily just re-grow it. When Travinsky finally released her, she angrily spat in his face. If he was offended by this, he didn't show it, instead choosing to lick it all up. Somehow, that was even worse.
"Rest assure, that was just the appetizer. After all, there is little of more importance than foreplay when it comes to making love to a woman."
"You... you crooked beast! I bet your dick's crooked too!"
"I can make it so if you desire. But now is not yet the time for such indulgences."
He reached over, and pulled up her sleeves. Then, he started to stroke her arms, starting from the elbows, following her muscles down inside her armpits, then back up again. Normally, something like this might've been ticklish. But for Siela, who had just finished wreaking havoc on all the nerves inside her arms, it was in fact quite painful. Already, small dabs of tears were starting to wet her eyes as she bit back quiet whimpers each time he excited her tortured, frayed nerves. Her muscles were already straining to support her weight, so that not all of it was being forced against that little stone ledge. Stroke after stroke, each one causing a dull ache to spread throughout her body. Did he realize the negative effect this was having on her?
Or was that really the case? Between the waves of pain flowing through her, Siela became vaguely aware of the wetness that was spreading between her thighs. She wasn't sure how much of that was from when she was being forced to grind against the stone rod nestled right against her vagina, and how much of it was from this gentle torture the demon was putting her through. As ridiculous as it sounds, it really felt like she might've been getting off from the mild stinging sensations flowing through her. She was getting used to the pain, so now other feelings were starting to re-surface: the fatigue from her earlier efforts, the cold wetness from his saliva on the bottoms of her feet, most of all, an intense, inexplicable arousal. Was she really this masochistic?
It was certain now. Every time Travinsky stroked her arms, she felt a bizarre mixture of feelings, both ridiculous and enthralling. Somehow he had transformed her wounded areas into erogenous zones, filled with painful and pleasurable sensations. All he was doing was gently caressing her taut muscles. Yet, it was all she could do to stop herself from moaning in ecstasy, from rubbing her clitoris against that convenient placed stone shaft. She was afraid to think of what would happen when he moved on to the places on her body that were normally erogenous. Part of her was excited. As much as she wanted to stay angry, to not give in to him, she knew she would not last. Her resistance was crumbling to pieces and there was very little she could do to prevent it.