Souled Out

Chapter 8: Breathe

You couldn't deny him, by the terms of the contract you had agreed to, he had access to you as he pleased. So long as your body was hale and whole when your soul returned, he could do as he pleased, but still you knew you could stop him.

Demon though he was, he had quite the preference.

You'd only said one word in the living room, and that had been enough. Now here you were, laid out on your own bed, Eustass Kid towering over you.

"No need to keep these." He says, hands turning black as human fingers turn into something more feral. Sharp claws rip into the scrubs like they aren't even really there, and you feel almost no resistance as they fall away, cut neatly down the center and leaving you exposed, save for the tatters of sleeves and pant legs left barely clinging to your limbs.

The action had rent something within you as well, like someone pulling cotton from your ears you were beginning to feel with more clarity. Not just physical, but you could feel the swell of emotions within you start to raise your heart rate. It wasn't just the light shift of tattered threads against your skin, a nearly foreign sensation after decades of muffled senses, but it was the shiver in your body.

A shiver all your own, before Kid had even begun to prod at your soul.

He licks his lips, sharp eyes taking you in. "I'll have to thank the freak," he nearly growls the words, caught between his enjoyment of watching you and wanting to devour you. "Squirmin' before I've even begun."

Kid's visage holds no pretense of humanity, long horns curled and crowned against his head. Obsidian black coats clawed hands and reaches to his elbows, the tendrils of liquid rock mingled with flawless marble skin. It was hard to be sure he was made of flesh and blood, given how ethereal and sculpted he was like this.

His eyes were bright, burning more like the sun than anything else, slit pupils held you so completely he had to prompt you to breathe, mouth pulled into a devious grin, full of teeth far too sharp to be safe.

How easily he could tear you apart. Consume you.

He pulls the tattered remains of your pants away, and you aren't sure why until you feel his tail coil around your leg, pushing it aside as he grips your other leg with his hand. Holding you open he leers at you for a long moment, until you feel another sweet shiver curl in your gut and warm your chest.

"The important part of any good meal is to savor it." He explains, tongue slipping around the middle finger of his free hand. "Every time."

A strange concern, not quite fear, sits low in your gut and you aren't sure what it is until you look down and notice the massive cock twitching and hard between your thighs. Wetness is already pooled at the tip, head red as his hair, shaft impossibly thick. The twitch of desire makes it look like it's licking the air, hungry to give the same attention to you.

Nerves. You realize with odd clarity as you tear your eyes away from his girth, finding comfort in the delight of his gaze. You're feeling nervous.

His wet finger runs against your labia and he hums. "Wet on your own," he leans forward, pressing his finger into your entrance. You're concerned about the risk of the claw, but there's nothing sharp caressing your delicate skin. "Makes this a little easier." He purrs, finger steadily pushing in deeper, as he holds your gaze.

Pleasure wells up inside you as he sinks in, your legs shifting against his tail and hand. The slow build suddenly zings through you without warning, and you grab onto his forearm as your body bucks from the sensation. A sweet, surprised gasp breaks your lips open, as your face twists in embarrassment.