( The way those hips move and that moan have Bruce's eyes lifting to Miya's face, watching as him carefully as he presses his teeth harder into that pale skin. Color blossoms under the attention, and when he's satisfied with the mark he's left, he takes his time dragging his teeth over the soft skin further. Along the front of his hips, tasting the soft skin.
He pulls away long enough to look down at Miyano, at the bindings of his hands and wrists. Troublesome.
One of those large hands moves, flicking his fingers sharply in the direction of one of the bindings. A gray flame erupts on the surface of each, burning through the material enough that it falls away and leaves his hands free, the fire never touching or burning that beautiful pale skin. Satisfied, he sits back on his knees, thick thighs spread and shamelessly showing the outline of his hardening cock. )
Get on your hands and knees. ( The length of his tail twitches briefly behind him before it moves, moving around him and letting the soft, warm spade at the tip of his tail graze along the inside of Miya's thighs, touching and feeling as he waits. )
[There's still fear, deep and icy, enough to make Miyano's heart rocket against his ribs, breath coming shaky and ragged. He's scared, but it just keeps feeling good, the drag of that hot mouth over his skin, the sensation of those piercing eyes on every move he makes.
So by the time the demon burns away the bindings -- so easily, confirming that yes, he's incredibly dangerous and powerful and shouldn't be messed with -- Miya is shamefully aroused. He's not fully hard yet, but even the stirring interest is immediately visible, and he has to fight the urge to clutch the shredded robe around himself once his hands are free.
Propping himself up on his elbows, Miyano's eyes are drawn helplessly to the (really big) bulge at the front of the demon's skin-tight pants. Any doubt he might’ve had about what's happening is gone, and he wonders for a brief, stupid moment if he should try to run.
But he dismisses the thought as soon as it rises -- even if he could slip past the hooded figures (who still watch, breathless and rapt), Miya doesn't think the demon would actually let him go. It'd be stupid to try. He's just being smart, at this point, drawing in a shaky breath and slowly obeying, turning onto his hands and knees on the altar, shivering all over, the remnants of the robe slipping to cover him again.
(And also, maybe, deep down, there's the tiniest spark of curiosity, nurtured by the countless books he's read, wondering if getting claimed by a demon, fucked by one is actually as mind-bendingly pleasurable as the stories say.)]
( The hint of arousal, however small it is, hard to miss. Bruce can see it in the faint hardening of Miyano's cock, smell it all around them, taste the sweetness of it of the air. A virgin ripe for the taking, waiting to be filled.
It's that tang of fear in the sweet scent of arousal that excites him most, even more so when the teen moves to obediently perch on his hands and knees. It'd be a beautiful sight if not for that damned robe, and Bruce wastes no time reaching out, grabbing the fabric. Tearing through it and leaving it to fall in pieces where Miyano's arms are still through the sleeves. But like this, he can see so much.
He moves quietly, positioning himself behind Miya. His hands move easily, gliding over the outsides of his thighs and up to his hips where they pause. His grip curves there, pulling Miya's hips back and flush against his own - his trapped length slotting between the crease of his ass. He rocks once, twice, imagining what it will be like to take him just like this before his hands are moving again.
The rough palms trail over his sides and back, and Bruce leans forward, blanketing the smaller body under his own so he can drag his teeth over Miya's ear. One hand curls around the slender throat, the other braced on the ground as the length of his tail slithers between those thighs, pressing the flat of the soft spade to his skin to caress it, higher and higher. )
You want this, ( Bruce purrs against Miyano's ear, his tail inching higher still, teasing the spot behind his sac with it's tip. ) don't you? For all these people to see me take you in every filthy way you dream of when you're alone with your books. ( His hand flexes around Miya's throat, a hint of pressure that's far from painful. )
[The most embarrassing part of all this is that the demon is right. Miyano is the quintessential good boy -- he gets good grades, he follows the rules and never defies his parents, he's on the damn disciplinary committee at school for god's sake.
Good boys don't feel huge, inhuman hands grabbing their hips and holding them still so an enormous, hard, terrifying demon cock can grind slowly against their bare ass and get excited by it. Good boys don't instinctively arch their backs and spread their legs and silently beg for more, head already spinning with the incredible impossibility of something so big fitting inside them.
Good boys definitely don't have to bite back more of those needy little moans at the soft, dark voice against their ear, at the grip of one huge hand around their throat, at the inescapable warmth of the demon draping over them. Miya is trying desperately to pretend he isn't spreading his legs for the slow, curious exploration of the demon's tail, trying to blame this on something else. The drugs, maybe. Something.
He shakes his head weakly, shuddering in helpless pleasure at the teasing feel of the tail between his legs, fighting the urge to drop down to his elbows and knees, to present himself like a horny, desperate beast.] N-No, I-I -- that's d-different!
[It has to be the drugs. He can't really want this. He can't. That'd be crazy.]
( This close, Bruce can feel every way the smaller body beneath him moves. The arch of that back is met with a smooth roll of Bruce's own hips, a silent display of one of the many ways he plans to fuck Miyano. And his tail never stops or relents in the way it explores. A slow but firm touch that drags that spade over Miya's balls and slowly drags itself over the base of his cock. )
Is it? ( He counters smoothly, hand flexing once more as his tongue slips out, hot and wet in the way it traces the shell of his ear. The wet touch is followed by a graze of teeth, and there's another rock of his hips against the bare ass. ) How is it different, Miyano? That you want to want to present your untouched body for me to ravage as I please?
( He can't read Miyano's mind, but he can sense that growing want. A need the teen has for him thanks to that symbol on his stomach that even now is likely starting to warm, to make sure Miya never forgets who is touching him. That something like him is here about to claim him.
Hand moving from Miya's throat to instead curve under his jaw and turn his head, Bruce leans close, their lips hovering close, eyes gleaming. ) Tell me what you want, Miyano. ( The order passes his lips, and he closes the distance between their mouths. He kisses the other slow and deep, tongue pressing through any resistance from those lips to slide their tongues against one another. Letting himself feel and explore the wet heat of his mouth, his own saliva with a twinge of sweetness and magic that will make his sacrifice feel more sensitive and desperate for his touch. )
[Whenever Miyano read books like this -- where the protagonist resisted and blushed and insisted that they felt nothing, nothing at all, that it wasn't them acting like this, it was something else, something bigger than them -- he used to roll his eyes, because they always gave in eventually. What use was all the protesting and fighting, when it obviously felt good and they obviously wanted it so badly?
Now, inexplicably in his own version of those fantasies, Miyano sort of understands. If he doesn't cling to that tiny thread of logic, of rationality, he feels like he's going to completely lose himself. It feels so much better than anything he's ever felt before, anything his hand alone could've ever achieved. The teasing, dragging feel of the demon's tail has him fully hard against his stomach, the tease of teeth against his ear has his whole body shivering, and even the audience of hooded figures doesn't matter anymore.
Then there's the heat on his stomach, rising gradually, relentlessly, pushing that sense of need, of impatience ever higher and more intense. The demon turns his head and Miya's wide, teary eyes are locked with the bright, glowing blue ones that seem to look right into his soul any know exactly what he wants. He's opening his mouth to answer when the demon kisses him, tongue curling hot and slick and sweet, drowning Miya's senses even more. There isn't a single inch of him that isn't completely saturated in the demon's touch, scent, taste, and it's still not enough.
The boy's gasping for air by the time the demon pulls away from the kiss, and that tiny tenuous thread of sanity snaps as he answers, compelled and helpless and lost:] Fuck me, p-please, please, please...
( Their lips part, and the sight of Miyano breathless and pleading only serves to rile Bruce further. He drags his tongue slowly over the trail of a tear along one of the other's cheeks, tail slow and curious in the way it rubs itself up the length of the other's hard cock. Even such a small thing, his tail touching something so pure in this way makes energy simmer under his skin, and Bruce won't deny that it only serves to make him strain harder against his already struggling clothing.
Another short kiss is pressed to Miyano's mouth before Bruce moves, hands and tail disappearing from the warm skin as he moves instead to sit back on his knees. Legs still spread, the outline of his cock is nearly bursting against the seams of his pants, and he moves his hands to rest them on his own thighs. He sits calm and unmoving, statuesque in the way he perches with his gaze on the body in front of him.
It's tempting to take Miyano just like this, to rip his own pants open and sink into him to claim him. But every part of Bruce wants Miyano as his, to touch and fuck him so thoroughly that no human will ever compare. To drink in every last bit of innocence he can take to bask in the power it brings. )
Come here.
( He waits until he can see Miya's eyes and then his own drop to his pants, to the fastener these. Undo them, the look says. )
[As amazing as each touch feels -- and it does, it feels so good, the big hands roaming over his bare, shivering body, the tease of the demon's tail up and down his aching cock, the hot, slick tongue in his mouth -- the loss of all touch is that much more unbearable. Miyano actually reaches out, a shaky, fumbling gesture, turning and looking over his shoulder at the demon pleadingly, breath catching in a desperate, needy sound that's almost a sob.
Each millisecond that he isn't touching the demon, isn't being caressed and teased and kissed is horrible, and Miya barely needs the invitation to scramble around until he's facing the huge, shadowy figure. Even still, even as his entire body cries out to obey, there's a split second of hesitation at his first proper look at the demon he's been given to. He's huge, imposing and impassive, face shadowed and impossible to read. He could still very easily tear Miyano apart, could completely wreck him if he unleashed whatever simmering passion is visible in his gaze.
But Miya stopped caring about that the first time the demon touched him. So he just swallows hard, slowly moving closer, pausing for a moment on his hands and knees before reaching out both shaky hands. They seem smaller than ever as he slides them up the demon's muscled thighs, ghosts his fingertips across the huge, hard shape of the inhumanly large cock. It's so big. It should terrify him.
Instead it just makes his mouth water, breath coming short and shaky and needy as he carefully begins unfastening the demon's pants. Miya doesn't care that they're being watched, doesn't care that the remnants of the robe are sliding off his shoulders, doesn't care that anyone can see how turned on he is, how flushed and hard and eager. All he cares about is obeying, is getting his hands (or mouth) onto that cock as soon as he possibly can.]
( They've barely done anything and already Miyano is desperate for him. He wonders what it will be like for him after, how badly Miya will yearn for him. It's a thought that makes one corner of his lips curve up just the slightest in a small smirk as he watches the small human.
Those hands look so small against his thick thighs and the large hands that rest on them, but he's pleased all the same with the feeling of them. That ghost of fingertips is met with a faint exhale of approval, waiting for him to do more. To finally undo his pants and free his waiting cock.
When the fastener comes undone, it doesn't take much for Bruce's cock to free itself. It's bulging length pushes past the open fastener, revealing itself fully. It's thicker outside his pants, the bulbous already beading fluid, the thick lines of it holding it tall and waiting for attention. And at the base is a small ridge, seemingly innocent in it's presence despite being a knot eager to swell inside his sacrifice.
Bruce doesn't speak, only gives Miyano another look that tells him to act as he pleases. Permission, if you will. All the while, his tail is moving again, slithering up the inside of Miyano's thigh, over his hips and stomach to rub curiously at one of his nipples, eager to explore every bit of his virgin body. )
[Miya makes a soft, gently startled sound as the demon's cock is revealed -- clearly inhuman, shaped so differently, so uniquely, the massive shape of it like nothing he's ever seen. Well...outside of a sneakily-read smut manga, that is.
Rather than intimidation, seeing the length of the demon's arousal just sparks more of that need somewhere low in the teen's stomach, beneath where the arcane mark tingles and burns. He reaches out fearlessly, curls both his hands around the thick, hard length and slowly strokes from root to tip.]
You're so big... [It comes out soft, reverent. Worshipful. There's a shudder in Miyano's next words as the demon's tail teases at his chest, sending sparks of pleasure up and down his spine.] Is -- are you going to fit?
[Again, a thought that should be terrifying, but instead just makes Miya squirm impatiently, leaning forward to glide his tongue up the side of the demon's cock, catching the glistening beads of fluid at the tip. The taste has him moaning, open-mouthed, hands moving quicker up and down the thick length, wanting to give as much pleasure as he's receiving.]
( Miyano's own arousal is thick in the air, filling Bruce's lungs and coating his tongue. It's a strong scent that makes it hard to be patient and still, something that shows in how restless his tail is in its movements. It feels along Miyano's chest, over both nipples again, before trailing back down his abdomen and lower still.
The lack of hesitation in Miyano's movements are met with a slow, pleased exhale, and the thick length twitches under the pass over those soft, gentle hands. There's something thrilling in knowing these hands have only touched him. The words are met with one hand lifting from it's perch on his thigh, reaching out to stroke his hand through the dark hair, nails scraping his scalp. )
I will. ( There's a calm confidence to his words. He will fit, and he knows Miyano will live for every bit of the obscene stretch and the way he's filled. His hand doesn't leave the dark hair as he watches the teen lean down, and he groans faintly at the feeling of that tongue over his tip. His hand curves in the dark hair, grip form, and he moves to tug the teen down and towards his cock as he shifts his hips forward. )
Suck it. ( The order is followed by a slow drag of the spade of his tail from the tip of Miyano's cock down to it's vase where it curls slowly. Whether he's ready or not, the tip of Bruce's cock is already pushing against those soft lips, seeking out the warmth of that untouched mouth. )
[There's a heady, dizzying, shameful thrill in the realization that it'll fit because the demon will make it fit, and that Miyano is helpless to talk himself out of it. That's why he's here, mostly naked and marked up with this being's symbol, with that huge hand curling into his hair and pushing his head down. There's something primal, instinctive in that realization, that all he has to do is open his mouth and submit, and it'll feel better than even his exceptionally creative mind could imagine.
Maybe a more defiant, outspoken person would've fought back, would've resisted. But Miya isn't that person. And deep down, he can't deny that he's incredibly curious about what it'll feel like, about how much he can take, about how exciting and exhilarating it'll be. His heart is racing against his ribs, spurred on by the teasing feel of the demon's tail teasing its way down his shivering body -- but its not fear anymore. It's eagerness.
So he lets his lips part, opening as wide as he can, letting the demon guide his mouth onto the cock held in both hands. Just the head alone is enough to fill his mouth, nudging at the back of his throat, and there's a muffled moan at the weight and taste. Big bright eyes flicker upwards, wanting approval, guidance, even as Miya knows damn well his unsure, messy sucking isn't going to be enough. He swallows hard, tries to relax, tries to prepare for the demon to thrust down his throat, inevitable and thrilling and scary all at once.]
( Miyano is small, smaller than the sacrifices he's had in the past. Smaller than most of the humans and demons he's fucked. Bruce knows how this will go, how much he'll have to break such a small human in to use him properly, but the enthusiasm that Miyano's showing more than makes up for that. The power that he can feel surging through him isn't from Miyano's size, it's that enthusiasm and want from such a pure and untouched body.
Those marks on Miyano's skin glow, as that mouth stretches around him, power growing, drinking it in for Bruce to take. He keeps his grip in the dark hair, let's out a soft, approving sound as he feels the thick head bump the back of the teen's throat. It's not nearly enough, and the way those warm eyes look up at him only make him want more.
His other hand moves, traces the stretched lips and the wetness he can already feel there. ) Good. ( Is all he says. The only bit of praise Miyano will get from him.
He doesn't give the other much time to adjust before he's pushing his hips forward, using his grip on the other's hair to pull him further down on his cock. He can feel the way the head of it glides along the back of Miyano's throat, pushes further and deeper still without any consideration for whether the teen might gag or choke. This is his body to use, and that's exactly what he plans to do.
He doesn't give Miyano time to adjust before that grip in his hair is pulling the teen almost fully off his cock before he's thrusting back in. Faster and deeper, setting into a rhythm already. The only bit of compassion Bruce shows in that moment is the way his tail moves around Miyano's cock. Moving and gripping, cooling and sliding along it's length, the tip teasing at the slit. )
[It's definitely an effect of the drug and the marks on his abdomen, but that short, simple word of approval is more than enough to have Miyano's entire body shivering in delight, deliriously proud of himself for having earned the demon's praise. His mind is so cloudy, so hazy, no room for anything except the need to service, to please and obey and submit.
Even the tight hand in his hair, the rough way Miya's mouth is guided on and off the massive cock feels good, feels right in a way nothing else ever has. Of course it's better for the demon to take control -- he knows better, he's done this countless times before, Miyano would never be able to please him without direction. So he doesn't resist, doesn't fight back, even when the punishing thrusts down his throat make his eyes water, make him choke from the thick weight of the demon's cock.
Miyano just kneels there, hands braced on the demon's powerful thighs, submitting to the rhythmic plunges down his throat. There's soon saliva streaking his chin, his neck, from each time he's gagged on the demon's cock, leaving it slick and gleaming in the moonlight every time it slides past his bruised lips.
There's a low, needy moan amidst the thick, choking noises of Miya getting his throat fucked, prompted by the teasing movements of the demon's tail. The teen is achingly hard, and even the slow, gentle touches to his aching cock have his teary eyes looking up in silent pleading. He wants to come badly, so much it's painful, but he isn't about to without permission.]
( The sound of Miyano's gagging, the way his throat flutters and clenches around his cock every time he chokes is addicting. Bruce's own sounds are faint groans and breathes, barely audible over the messy sounds that come from the way he's fucking the teen's mouth and throat. Fluid drips from the bulbous head, thick and warm even in such small droplets that he leaves across Miyano's tongue and throat.
He doesn't miss that pleading gaze. It's met with his other hand finding the dark hair, and he lifts himself from where he'd been sitting back on he legs to being perched just on his knees. He thrusts harder and faster, and a flick of his gaze towards the fabric still Miyano has it dissolving in a flash of warmth again that never damages that fair skin. )
Come. ( He orders, voice thick with a groan as he continues to fuck his throat. His tail encourages the order, the rings it makes from being coiled around Miyano's cock stroking up and down, eager for that energy that comes from someone orgasming at his hands. )
[There's a faint, dull realization in the back of Miyano's mind that he's going to be hoarse after all this -- if there is an after, if he has any future beyond kneeling on this altar and servicing the demon for the rest of his life. The pain is a distant second to the pleasure, though, the pleasure of that tail stroking skillfully up and down his cock, the pleasure of the demon's big hands in his hair, guiding his mouth and even the pleasure of the thick, heavy shaft entering his throat again and again.
Once he's given permission, that's all it takes for that taut coil of pleasure to explode, for it to erupt white-hot and overwhelming and so, so much better than Miya's ever felt it, moans muffled around the cock in his mouth, whole body going tense as he obeys, spills over the demon's tail. He can't breathe, can't think, can't move in the face of how hard he's coming, so much more intense and dizzying than it's ever been by himself.
And it lasts, the peak ebbing away slowly, aftershocks of shaky bliss having Miyano whining thickly as his oversensitive body shudders beneath the demon's touch, throat convulsing and clenching, glazed-over eyes slowly focusing upwards again. He could easily pass and sleep for hours, but he knows damn well the demon's not finished with him yet. Not by a long shot.]
( The symbol beneath them glows, bathing them in warm light as Miyano orgasms. Every drip of come that touches the symbol makes it brighten, and Bruce doesn't bother to hide his moan. His head tips down, watching Miyano intently as he feels the power that steadily courses through him. Every flutter of that throat around his cock threatens to snatch another sound from him, and the idea of continuing just like this is tempting. Fucking his throat until Miyano is choking on his come.
But another idea comes to him.
His hands move to tug Miyano off his cock, a string of gleaming saliva the only thing that connects those swollen lips and cock. It's an easy thing to move around Miyano, hands and tail abandoning him for the moment. He settles easily behind him, trailing one hand over the bare back to push the teen's shoulders to the ground, his other hand tipping his hips to bring his ass higher, better angled for Bruce's attention. There's no warning when his tail moves again, winding back around the teen's cock to stroke him still. )
Don't hold anything back. ( Is all Bruce says as his hands move, spreading the smooth cheeks to give him a glimpse of his hole. He wants to hear every sound, to see Miyano squirm, to send him over the edge with more orgasms if he can. He wets his lips, his own cock twitching at the sight. ) Have you touched yourself here? ( He wonders as he leans down, dragging his tongue slowly over the tight hole, hands squeezing those cheeks in his hands. )
[Even though he's nearly out of his mind with pleasure, his breath coming hoarse and ragged, Miyano still chases weakly after the demon's cock as it slides free from his throat, coughing a few times, saliva dripping from his lips, his chin. He looks a wreck, flushed and hazy-eyed and gasping, but there's something inside him that just wants more, more, more.
And he gets it, the warm hand pushing his shoulders down, raising his hips, and Miya submits to it eagerly, even though the firm strokes from the long tail make him whine with dizzy overstimulation. He's still coming down from his climax, but the demon doesn't seem to care, already pushing him unstoppably towards another. There's something heady and addictive in the thought that there's nothing he can do, that the demon will stop when he's done and not one moment before. It's so wrong it's right.
The slick feel of the demon's tongue gets a stuttered, sobbing moan, Miyano hiding his face against his arms as he nods, ears bright red with embarrassment.] S-Sometimes... [It's a lie, an understatement; most times he needs some sort of fullness there in order to get off. He's pretty sure the demon will know he's lying. He's pretty sure that thought shouldn't be as thrilling as it is.]
( It's easy to know when a human is lying. Bruce can taste it, smell it. And he knows Miyano is lying. It's a thought that makes him wonder how far he's gone,what he does to himself...
He makes a faint sound of acknowledgement before turning his attention fully Miyano's body. He works his tongue against his hole, slow and intent, shameless in how he uses his tongue to spread the thick, slick saliva. Those strong hands move to grip tight at Miyano's hips, holding him still as his tongue works him open and his tail continues to stroke his cock. )
[Miya makes a strangled, needy sound against his folded arms, back arching, hips pushing back as the demon's tongue works incessantly against his hole, coaxing it open, leaving him slick and dripping wet. It's clear what's coming next, and the mark on his stomach burns bright and eager at the thought of it, of getting what he's secretly desired since the demon had first appeared. It doesn't matter what comes afterwards, as long as he's wholly and completely consumed and used before it happens.
The tail stroking him back to hardness should be painful -- Miyano's young, but even he doesn't have a recovery period that short. But he rocks his hips eagerly, needily, not caring that coming again so quickly could probably ruin him, could make any sexual experience pale in comparison. All he cares about is the pleasure, the sensation, the feeling of the demon's hand's on his hips, the tongue pressing inside him, the building anticipation of what's coming next.]
( The motions of his tongue are unrelenting, broad and wet. No one else will be able to bring Miyano to this peak ever again, and that thought has his own cock dripping in anticipation. A virgin human, ruined at his hands now and for the rest of his days to come.
His hands grip tighter still, certain to leave marks under those large hands, the tips of his nails pressing into the fair skin. He wants to be sure every time Miyano looks at himself in the days to come, all he sees is the reminders of him. Of everything he's done to him.
The thick tongue continues it's motions, dips deeper still. He's mindful of every reaction he pulls out of Miyano as he explores him with his tongue and keeps stroking him with the length of his tail. )
Please, please, pleasepleaseplease... [Miyano is barely aware that he's begging, that his back is bowed tightly, hips bucking backwards against the demon's long, thick, slick tongue plunging inside him, then forward into the tight coil of his tail. He doesn't know whether he's begging for more or for mercy, his body pushed through the aftershocks of his first climax right into another without time to rest or recover.
It seems impossible, but Miyano can feel himself about to come again, nerves rubbed raw, oversensitive jolts quivering through his body over and over. It feels like too much, too soon, but it's inescapable, and he's sobbing open-mouthed and needy and desperate as the combination of the strokes and the relentless movement of the demon's tongue forces him back over the edge. He jerks and shudders beneath those huge hands, barely feeling the wet heat of his release add to the mess coating his stomach and chest.
And it doesn't stop. Miyano hadn't anticipated it would, he'd known this is just the beginning, but he still squirms weakly beneath the demon, whole body shivering and helpless.]
( Miyano is close. Bruce can sense it, feel the building energy from the mark on that fair skin. It's enough that he works his tongue deeper still, firm and unyielding in every stroke, tail coiled tight around Miyano.
He drinks in every movement and sound his sacrifice makes greedily, the energy that simmers under his skin earning a soft sound from his throat. And when he feels Miyano's body react to it's second orgasm, he moans in satisfaction. The mark glows brighter against Miyano's skin, becoming warmer and warmer. Bruce's attention doesn't relent, works against the way his hole flutters around his tongue and holding his hips as he continues to work him through his orgasm.
It's only when those tremors slow and his muscles start to relax that Bruce finally pulls away. He angles those slender hips easily with the strong hands as he moves closer, and the only hint of a warning of what's coming is one hand disappearing from Miyano's hip. He wraps a hand around his thick cock, guiding it to the slick hole to press inside slowly.
His hands are back on Miyano's hips quickly, holding him, as his tip slips into him. There's a low, pleased groan at the tight heat that grips him, and then, his hips jerk forward, sinking him more than halfway into the teen. )
[The demon's thick, ridged cock plunges inside him -- a bit, then all at once, sudden enough that Miya gasps, thighs shuddering at the overwhelming wave of pleasure that floods over him. If there's any pain, it's immediately drowned out, eclipsed by the heat and fullness, the dizzying conviction that this is so good, so right, this is what he needed, what he's been waiting for. That's at least partially the fault of the mark burning on his stomach, but Miyano's two climaxes in and logic has long since left.
He's shivering so hard that he can barely hold himself up, propped on his elbows, hips gripped so tightly in the demon's hands. Still, Miyano arches his back as much as he can, whining thick and needy and pushing back against the demon's cock, trying to nudge even more of it inside him. He can feel it so deep already, but its not enough, not yet.]
Please, p-please, please... [He chokes it out, hair falling in his face, looking back over his shoulder, eyes hazy and hot ] A-All of it, I need it all--!
( Miyano is trembling under his hands, and Bruce grips harder still. Color is blossoming under his hands on that fair skin, but the strength in his hands is unrelenting and solid, prepared to keep the teen's hips up in their place even if his arms give out. The length of his tail finally uncoils from around the other's cock, instead letting the soft, warm spade at the tip trail over his back and sides the same way his hands might have if they were free.
He holds himself still, letting Miyano move. He watches him with bright eyes, amused, at how he tries to sink deeper back on him, how he pleads for more. But when their eyes meet, he finally relents.
His hips push forward, sinking slowly into the tight hole. His own voice catches in his throat on a moan, and he breathes out slowly when he feels the teen's stretched rim bump the swollen knot at the base of his cock. That'll come soon, he thinks eagerly, and after a couple of seconds of enjoying being seated inside Miyano, he's pulling out almost fully, leaving just the tip. Then he's driving back in, fast and hard. )
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He pulls away long enough to look down at Miyano, at the bindings of his hands and wrists. Troublesome.
One of those large hands moves, flicking his fingers sharply in the direction of one of the bindings. A gray flame erupts on the surface of each, burning through the material enough that it falls away and leaves his hands free, the fire never touching or burning that beautiful pale skin. Satisfied, he sits back on his knees, thick thighs spread and shamelessly showing the outline of his hardening cock. )
Get on your hands and knees. ( The length of his tail twitches briefly behind him before it moves, moving around him and letting the soft, warm spade at the tip of his tail graze along the inside of Miya's thighs, touching and feeling as he waits. )
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So by the time the demon burns away the bindings -- so easily, confirming that yes, he's incredibly dangerous and powerful and shouldn't be messed with -- Miya is shamefully aroused. He's not fully hard yet, but even the stirring interest is immediately visible, and he has to fight the urge to clutch the shredded robe around himself once his hands are free.
Propping himself up on his elbows, Miyano's eyes are drawn helplessly to the (really big) bulge at the front of the demon's skin-tight pants. Any doubt he might’ve had about what's happening is gone, and he wonders for a brief, stupid moment if he should try to run.
But he dismisses the thought as soon as it rises -- even if he could slip past the hooded figures (who still watch, breathless and rapt), Miya doesn't think the demon would actually let him go. It'd be stupid to try. He's just being smart, at this point, drawing in a shaky breath and slowly obeying, turning onto his hands and knees on the altar, shivering all over, the remnants of the robe slipping to cover him again.
(And also, maybe, deep down, there's the tiniest spark of curiosity, nurtured by the countless books he's read, wondering if getting claimed by a demon, fucked by one is actually as mind-bendingly pleasurable as the stories say.)]
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It's that tang of fear in the sweet scent of arousal that excites him most, even more so when the teen moves to obediently perch on his hands and knees. It'd be a beautiful sight if not for that damned robe, and Bruce wastes no time reaching out, grabbing the fabric. Tearing through it and leaving it to fall in pieces where Miyano's arms are still through the sleeves. But like this, he can see so much.
He moves quietly, positioning himself behind Miya. His hands move easily, gliding over the outsides of his thighs and up to his hips where they pause. His grip curves there, pulling Miya's hips back and flush against his own - his trapped length slotting between the crease of his ass. He rocks once, twice, imagining what it will be like to take him just like this before his hands are moving again.
The rough palms trail over his sides and back, and Bruce leans forward, blanketing the smaller body under his own so he can drag his teeth over Miya's ear. One hand curls around the slender throat, the other braced on the ground as the length of his tail slithers between those thighs, pressing the flat of the soft spade to his skin to caress it, higher and higher. )
You want this, ( Bruce purrs against Miyano's ear, his tail inching higher still, teasing the spot behind his sac with it's tip. ) don't you? For all these people to see me take you in every filthy way you dream of when you're alone with your books. ( His hand flexes around Miya's throat, a hint of pressure that's far from painful. )
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Good boys don't feel huge, inhuman hands grabbing their hips and holding them still so an enormous, hard, terrifying demon cock can grind slowly against their bare ass and get excited by it. Good boys don't instinctively arch their backs and spread their legs and silently beg for more, head already spinning with the incredible impossibility of something so big fitting inside them.
Good boys definitely don't have to bite back more of those needy little moans at the soft, dark voice against their ear, at the grip of one huge hand around their throat, at the inescapable warmth of the demon draping over them. Miya is trying desperately to pretend he isn't spreading his legs for the slow, curious exploration of the demon's tail, trying to blame this on something else. The drugs, maybe. Something.
He shakes his head weakly, shuddering in helpless pleasure at the teasing feel of the tail between his legs, fighting the urge to drop down to his elbows and knees, to present himself like a horny, desperate beast.] N-No, I-I -- that's d-different!
[It has to be the drugs. He can't really want this. He can't. That'd be crazy.]
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Is it? ( He counters smoothly, hand flexing once more as his tongue slips out, hot and wet in the way it traces the shell of his ear. The wet touch is followed by a graze of teeth, and there's another rock of his hips against the bare ass. ) How is it different, Miyano? That you want to want to present your untouched body for me to ravage as I please?
( He can't read Miyano's mind, but he can sense that growing want. A need the teen has for him thanks to that symbol on his stomach that even now is likely starting to warm, to make sure Miya never forgets who is touching him. That something like him is here about to claim him.
Hand moving from Miya's throat to instead curve under his jaw and turn his head, Bruce leans close, their lips hovering close, eyes gleaming. ) Tell me what you want, Miyano. ( The order passes his lips, and he closes the distance between their mouths. He kisses the other slow and deep, tongue pressing through any resistance from those lips to slide their tongues against one another. Letting himself feel and explore the wet heat of his mouth, his own saliva with a twinge of sweetness and magic that will make his sacrifice feel more sensitive and desperate for his touch. )
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Now, inexplicably in his own version of those fantasies, Miyano sort of understands. If he doesn't cling to that tiny thread of logic, of rationality, he feels like he's going to completely lose himself. It feels so much better than anything he's ever felt before, anything his hand alone could've ever achieved. The teasing, dragging feel of the demon's tail has him fully hard against his stomach, the tease of teeth against his ear has his whole body shivering, and even the audience of hooded figures doesn't matter anymore.
Then there's the heat on his stomach, rising gradually, relentlessly, pushing that sense of need, of impatience ever higher and more intense. The demon turns his head and Miya's wide, teary eyes are locked with the bright, glowing blue ones that seem to look right into his soul any know exactly what he wants. He's opening his mouth to answer when the demon kisses him, tongue curling hot and slick and sweet, drowning Miya's senses even more. There isn't a single inch of him that isn't completely saturated in the demon's touch, scent, taste, and it's still not enough.
The boy's gasping for air by the time the demon pulls away from the kiss, and that tiny tenuous thread of sanity snaps as he answers, compelled and helpless and lost:] Fuck me, p-please, please, please...
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Another short kiss is pressed to Miyano's mouth before Bruce moves, hands and tail disappearing from the warm skin as he moves instead to sit back on his knees. Legs still spread, the outline of his cock is nearly bursting against the seams of his pants, and he moves his hands to rest them on his own thighs. He sits calm and unmoving, statuesque in the way he perches with his gaze on the body in front of him.
It's tempting to take Miyano just like this, to rip his own pants open and sink into him to claim him. But every part of Bruce wants Miyano as his, to touch and fuck him so thoroughly that no human will ever compare. To drink in every last bit of innocence he can take to bask in the power it brings. )
Come here.
( He waits until he can see Miya's eyes and then his own drop to his pants, to the fastener these. Undo them, the look says. )
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Each millisecond that he isn't touching the demon, isn't being caressed and teased and kissed is horrible, and Miya barely needs the invitation to scramble around until he's facing the huge, shadowy figure. Even still, even as his entire body cries out to obey, there's a split second of hesitation at his first proper look at the demon he's been given to. He's huge, imposing and impassive, face shadowed and impossible to read. He could still very easily tear Miyano apart, could completely wreck him if he unleashed whatever simmering passion is visible in his gaze.
But Miya stopped caring about that the first time the demon touched him. So he just swallows hard, slowly moving closer, pausing for a moment on his hands and knees before reaching out both shaky hands. They seem smaller than ever as he slides them up the demon's muscled thighs, ghosts his fingertips across the huge, hard shape of the inhumanly large cock. It's so big. It should terrify him.
Instead it just makes his mouth water, breath coming short and shaky and needy as he carefully begins unfastening the demon's pants. Miya doesn't care that they're being watched, doesn't care that the remnants of the robe are sliding off his shoulders, doesn't care that anyone can see how turned on he is, how flushed and hard and eager. All he cares about is obeying, is getting his hands (or mouth) onto that cock as soon as he possibly can.]
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Those hands look so small against his thick thighs and the large hands that rest on them, but he's pleased all the same with the feeling of them. That ghost of fingertips is met with a faint exhale of approval, waiting for him to do more. To finally undo his pants and free his waiting cock.
When the fastener comes undone, it doesn't take much for Bruce's cock to free itself. It's bulging length pushes past the open fastener, revealing itself fully. It's thicker outside his pants, the bulbous already beading fluid, the thick lines of it holding it tall and waiting for attention. And at the base is a small ridge, seemingly innocent in it's presence despite being a knot eager to swell inside his sacrifice.
Bruce doesn't speak, only gives Miyano another look that tells him to act as he pleases. Permission, if you will. All the while, his tail is moving again, slithering up the inside of Miyano's thigh, over his hips and stomach to rub curiously at one of his nipples, eager to explore every bit of his virgin body. )
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Rather than intimidation, seeing the length of the demon's arousal just sparks more of that need somewhere low in the teen's stomach, beneath where the arcane mark tingles and burns. He reaches out fearlessly, curls both his hands around the thick, hard length and slowly strokes from root to tip.]
You're so big... [It comes out soft, reverent. Worshipful. There's a shudder in Miyano's next words as the demon's tail teases at his chest, sending sparks of pleasure up and down his spine.] Is -- are you going to fit?
[Again, a thought that should be terrifying, but instead just makes Miya squirm impatiently, leaning forward to glide his tongue up the side of the demon's cock, catching the glistening beads of fluid at the tip. The taste has him moaning, open-mouthed, hands moving quicker up and down the thick length, wanting to give as much pleasure as he's receiving.]
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The lack of hesitation in Miyano's movements are met with a slow, pleased exhale, and the thick length twitches under the pass over those soft, gentle hands. There's something thrilling in knowing these hands have only touched him. The words are met with one hand lifting from it's perch on his thigh, reaching out to stroke his hand through the dark hair, nails scraping his scalp. )
I will. ( There's a calm confidence to his words. He will fit, and he knows Miyano will live for every bit of the obscene stretch and the way he's filled. His hand doesn't leave the dark hair as he watches the teen lean down, and he groans faintly at the feeling of that tongue over his tip. His hand curves in the dark hair, grip form, and he moves to tug the teen down and towards his cock as he shifts his hips forward. )
Suck it. ( The order is followed by a slow drag of the spade of his tail from the tip of Miyano's cock down to it's vase where it curls slowly. Whether he's ready or not, the tip of Bruce's cock is already pushing against those soft lips, seeking out the warmth of that untouched mouth. )
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Maybe a more defiant, outspoken person would've fought back, would've resisted. But Miya isn't that person. And deep down, he can't deny that he's incredibly curious about what it'll feel like, about how much he can take, about how exciting and exhilarating it'll be. His heart is racing against his ribs, spurred on by the teasing feel of the demon's tail teasing its way down his shivering body -- but its not fear anymore. It's eagerness.
So he lets his lips part, opening as wide as he can, letting the demon guide his mouth onto the cock held in both hands. Just the head alone is enough to fill his mouth, nudging at the back of his throat, and there's a muffled moan at the weight and taste. Big bright eyes flicker upwards, wanting approval, guidance, even as Miya knows damn well his unsure, messy sucking isn't going to be enough. He swallows hard, tries to relax, tries to prepare for the demon to thrust down his throat, inevitable and thrilling and scary all at once.]
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Those marks on Miyano's skin glow, as that mouth stretches around him, power growing, drinking it in for Bruce to take. He keeps his grip in the dark hair, let's out a soft, approving sound as he feels the thick head bump the back of the teen's throat. It's not nearly enough, and the way those warm eyes look up at him only make him want more.
His other hand moves, traces the stretched lips and the wetness he can already feel there. ) Good. ( Is all he says. The only bit of praise Miyano will get from him.
He doesn't give the other much time to adjust before he's pushing his hips forward, using his grip on the other's hair to pull him further down on his cock. He can feel the way the head of it glides along the back of Miyano's throat, pushes further and deeper still without any consideration for whether the teen might gag or choke. This is his body to use, and that's exactly what he plans to do.
He doesn't give Miyano time to adjust before that grip in his hair is pulling the teen almost fully off his cock before he's thrusting back in. Faster and deeper, setting into a rhythm already. The only bit of compassion Bruce shows in that moment is the way his tail moves around Miyano's cock. Moving and gripping, cooling and sliding along it's length, the tip teasing at the slit. )
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Even the tight hand in his hair, the rough way Miya's mouth is guided on and off the massive cock feels good, feels right in a way nothing else ever has. Of course it's better for the demon to take control -- he knows better, he's done this countless times before, Miyano would never be able to please him without direction. So he doesn't resist, doesn't fight back, even when the punishing thrusts down his throat make his eyes water, make him choke from the thick weight of the demon's cock.
Miyano just kneels there, hands braced on the demon's powerful thighs, submitting to the rhythmic plunges down his throat. There's soon saliva streaking his chin, his neck, from each time he's gagged on the demon's cock, leaving it slick and gleaming in the moonlight every time it slides past his bruised lips.
There's a low, needy moan amidst the thick, choking noises of Miya getting his throat fucked, prompted by the teasing movements of the demon's tail. The teen is achingly hard, and even the slow, gentle touches to his aching cock have his teary eyes looking up in silent pleading. He wants to come badly, so much it's painful, but he isn't about to without permission.]
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He doesn't miss that pleading gaze. It's met with his other hand finding the dark hair, and he lifts himself from where he'd been sitting back on he legs to being perched just on his knees. He thrusts harder and faster, and a flick of his gaze towards the fabric still Miyano has it dissolving in a flash of warmth again that never damages that fair skin. )
Come. ( He orders, voice thick with a groan as he continues to fuck his throat. His tail encourages the order, the rings it makes from being coiled around Miyano's cock stroking up and down, eager for that energy that comes from someone orgasming at his hands. )
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Once he's given permission, that's all it takes for that taut coil of pleasure to explode, for it to erupt white-hot and overwhelming and so, so much better than Miya's ever felt it, moans muffled around the cock in his mouth, whole body going tense as he obeys, spills over the demon's tail. He can't breathe, can't think, can't move in the face of how hard he's coming, so much more intense and dizzying than it's ever been by himself.
And it lasts, the peak ebbing away slowly, aftershocks of shaky bliss having Miyano whining thickly as his oversensitive body shudders beneath the demon's touch, throat convulsing and clenching, glazed-over eyes slowly focusing upwards again. He could easily pass and sleep for hours, but he knows damn well the demon's not finished with him yet. Not by a long shot.]
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But another idea comes to him.
His hands move to tug Miyano off his cock, a string of gleaming saliva the only thing that connects those swollen lips and cock. It's an easy thing to move around Miyano, hands and tail abandoning him for the moment. He settles easily behind him, trailing one hand over the bare back to push the teen's shoulders to the ground, his other hand tipping his hips to bring his ass higher, better angled for Bruce's attention. There's no warning when his tail moves again, winding back around the teen's cock to stroke him still. )
Don't hold anything back. ( Is all Bruce says as his hands move, spreading the smooth cheeks to give him a glimpse of his hole. He wants to hear every sound, to see Miyano squirm, to send him over the edge with more orgasms if he can. He wets his lips, his own cock twitching at the sight. ) Have you touched yourself here? ( He wonders as he leans down, dragging his tongue slowly over the tight hole, hands squeezing those cheeks in his hands. )
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And he gets it, the warm hand pushing his shoulders down, raising his hips, and Miya submits to it eagerly, even though the firm strokes from the long tail make him whine with dizzy overstimulation. He's still coming down from his climax, but the demon doesn't seem to care, already pushing him unstoppably towards another. There's something heady and addictive in the thought that there's nothing he can do, that the demon will stop when he's done and not one moment before. It's so wrong it's right.
The slick feel of the demon's tongue gets a stuttered, sobbing moan, Miyano hiding his face against his arms as he nods, ears bright red with embarrassment.] S-Sometimes... [It's a lie, an understatement; most times he needs some sort of fullness there in order to get off. He's pretty sure the demon will know he's lying. He's pretty sure that thought shouldn't be as thrilling as it is.]
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He makes a faint sound of acknowledgement before turning his attention fully Miyano's body. He works his tongue against his hole, slow and intent, shameless in how he uses his tongue to spread the thick, slick saliva. Those strong hands move to grip tight at Miyano's hips, holding him still as his tongue works him open and his tail continues to stroke his cock. )
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The tail stroking him back to hardness should be painful -- Miyano's young, but even he doesn't have a recovery period that short. But he rocks his hips eagerly, needily, not caring that coming again so quickly could probably ruin him, could make any sexual experience pale in comparison. All he cares about is the pleasure, the sensation, the feeling of the demon's hand's on his hips, the tongue pressing inside him, the building anticipation of what's coming next.]
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His hands grip tighter still, certain to leave marks under those large hands, the tips of his nails pressing into the fair skin. He wants to be sure every time Miyano looks at himself in the days to come, all he sees is the reminders of him. Of everything he's done to him.
The thick tongue continues it's motions, dips deeper still. He's mindful of every reaction he pulls out of Miyano as he explores him with his tongue and keeps stroking him with the length of his tail. )
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It seems impossible, but Miyano can feel himself about to come again, nerves rubbed raw, oversensitive jolts quivering through his body over and over. It feels like too much, too soon, but it's inescapable, and he's sobbing open-mouthed and needy and desperate as the combination of the strokes and the relentless movement of the demon's tongue forces him back over the edge. He jerks and shudders beneath those huge hands, barely feeling the wet heat of his release add to the mess coating his stomach and chest.
And it doesn't stop. Miyano hadn't anticipated it would, he'd known this is just the beginning, but he still squirms weakly beneath the demon, whole body shivering and helpless.]
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He drinks in every movement and sound his sacrifice makes greedily, the energy that simmers under his skin earning a soft sound from his throat. And when he feels Miyano's body react to it's second orgasm, he moans in satisfaction. The mark glows brighter against Miyano's skin, becoming warmer and warmer. Bruce's attention doesn't relent, works against the way his hole flutters around his tongue and holding his hips as he continues to work him through his orgasm.
It's only when those tremors slow and his muscles start to relax that Bruce finally pulls away. He angles those slender hips easily with the strong hands as he moves closer, and the only hint of a warning of what's coming is one hand disappearing from Miyano's hip. He wraps a hand around his thick cock, guiding it to the slick hole to press inside slowly.
His hands are back on Miyano's hips quickly, holding him, as his tip slips into him. There's a low, pleased groan at the tight heat that grips him, and then, his hips jerk forward, sinking him more than halfway into the teen. )
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He's shivering so hard that he can barely hold himself up, propped on his elbows, hips gripped so tightly in the demon's hands. Still, Miyano arches his back as much as he can, whining thick and needy and pushing back against the demon's cock, trying to nudge even more of it inside him. He can feel it so deep already, but its not enough, not yet.]
Please, p-please, please... [He chokes it out, hair falling in his face, looking back over his shoulder, eyes hazy and hot ] A-All of it, I need it all--!
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He holds himself still, letting Miyano move. He watches him with bright eyes, amused, at how he tries to sink deeper back on him, how he pleads for more. But when their eyes meet, he finally relents.
His hips push forward, sinking slowly into the tight hole. His own voice catches in his throat on a moan, and he breathes out slowly when he feels the teen's stretched rim bump the swollen knot at the base of his cock. That'll come soon, he thinks eagerly, and after a couple of seconds of enjoying being seated inside Miyano, he's pulling out almost fully, leaving just the tip. Then he's driving back in, fast and hard. )
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