The Sulfur Apprentice Follow-up - Pocketcat's Love, Ending B
This is an alternate ending to The Sulfur Apprentice (see previous posts!) In which Per'kele offers Da'an a proposition, which he denies. He is brutalized, losing an arm and a leg in the process. Per'kele is in the middle of fucking him when he is interrupted by a very angry Pocketcat....
Da'an has breasts and is on testosterone. Kinks include kidnapping, "yandere?", mind-breaking, non-con, amputation, size-difference, cock-warming, and forced impregnation.
Theme song = My Plaything by Mr. Strange.
(For previous scene, see the post linked in notes)
Per’kele groaned, feeling himself brought to the edge, despite himself. Da’an was just so delicious, so beneath him. He had to take the man for himself before-
“What are you doing?!” A loud growl snapped him out of his debauchery.
Per’kele cursed. That damnable servant of Rher had materialized in front of him, much earlier than he had expected. He was supposed to have some time to play with Da’an first, make him suffer enough to allow Pocketcat to possess him if he didn’t accept Per’kele’s deal.
Why was the cat interrupting before Da’an was properly broken?
Pocketcat was a towering, twisted presence, barely more than a purple monster in the vague shape of a cat. His yellow eyes glowed dangerously, twisting from his current body into the true spirit that he was.
Per’kele did not understand why the ancient being still served Rher when the god was obsolete. But he did know that Pocketcat was a fierce, unkillable presence. Even if he destroyed the body that the creature inhabited, it would find another, and another, until the end of time.
With another curse, Per’kele pulled out of Da’an and took a step away.
The purple spirit twisted back into the shape of a cat, no longer as large as a building. Pocketcat was now a towering seven-foot tall creature, having moon-scorched the current body into one more befitting of his presence. He still dripped saliva onto his fancy clothing, although he was capable of resembling a human-like gentleman if he chose. He didn’t seem to be in a good mood, however.
Per’kele glared at Pocketcat, who glared back at him.
“How could you violate sweet Da’an in this way?” He demanded, with surprising conviction.
“I was just leaving,” Per’kele said, draping his wings around himself. “Go play with your toy, you vile demon.”
Da’an lifted his head from the blood, struggling to clear his head. He was immediately paralyzed by fear, seeing a newer, more terrifying demon towering above him.
Pocketcat crouched in front of him, shaking his head with pity.
“Oh dear, you’ve been quite mangled, haven’t you? I would have liked to play with you first. There’s no fun in a toy that has already been torn apart.”
Da’an shifted away from him, but Pocketcat easily grabbed him by the remaining arm, still shaking his head.
“G-Get away from me-”
“Oh shush. You hurt me, you know. If it weren’t for me you would be strewn across the tower by now. It is cruel to toy with a gentleman’s feelings.” Was he pouting?
Da’an struggled to breathe. “Please let me go. I’m not going to give in,” He said, with conviction. He was never going to give in to the hunger that nearly paralyzed him. He was never going to allow this creature to possess him – and quite frankly, he didn’t understand why it even wanted to in the first place.
Pocketcat looked insulted. “Dear Da’an, old sport, I fear you’ve got the wrong idea of me. This is likely my fault, I tend to come on too… strong.”
His free hand was deep inside his pocket, moving shamelessly throughout the conversation. Da’an’s eye was stuck on the shape, barely comprehending how large Pocketcat was.
“No, I’ve been doing some thinking, and I think that I would prefer for us to remain friends.” Pocketcat said, smiling, in his jovial manner. As though Da’an were not bleeding out beneath him, with his pants around his ankles from Per’kele’s violation.
“Friends?” He choked.
“Yes! Friends, companions. Lovers,” Pocketcat sighed, dreamily. “Fellow gentlemen in the sweetest bond. I originally sought after you as a perfect host, touched by Sylvian and bearing her… mark.”
He felt a spark of fear, knowing that the demon meant his womb tattoo – Sylvian’s mark. A magical sigil that could not be removed, that he had blocked with his own magic during his past dealings. If he were not blocking the sigil, he would instantly be impregnated by anyone who came inside, blessed with Sylvian’s love.
“Yes, it would have been perfect for me, since I have a… quest, you see. I could carry out the quest myself.” Pocketcat looked thoughtful. “But I decided that perhaps it would be more fun to have you as a companion to bear the fruit for me, so to speak. I can find other bodies,” He pulled Da’an closer to him, bright eyed and salivating. “But this way we can keep having fun together, can’t we?”
“No-” Da’an stammered, feeling more terrified than he ever had felt before. “Please-”
“Shush,” Pocketcat purred. “You’re a pitiful sight right now, I’m sorry to say. We’ll need to take you home and clean you up, yes, yes. That is the proper thing to do.”
His salivating was growing more intense, dripping onto Da’an’s shoulder like a wild beast. The form was undulating, as the demon struggled to keep himself in the shape of a humanoid cat.
“Yes,” Pocketcat repeated to himself. His claws dug into Da’an’s arm, making him cry out. “Yes… It is the proper thing.”
But his eyes betrayed his true intentions.
Da’an knew the exact moment when the creature gave in and snapped. He pushed Da’an to the ground, flipping him onto his stomach and hoisting his ass into the air.
“No!” Da’an cried, “Please, Pocketcat!”
“I always wanted to lie with you under the moonlight, sweet Da’an,” Pocketcat sighed, his voice vibrating strangely, eerily. “But you’ve been such a tease for all these years.”
“Please-” Da’an shook with terror, feeling Pocketcat’s overwhelmingly huge erection spring free of his overly tight pants and press against him.
Pocketcat shuddered with a low purr at the warmth of Da’an’s cunt against his head. He pushed the tip inside, digging his claws into Da’ans thick, decadent thighs.
Da’an felt new terror at the sensation. Pocketcat was huge. He was going to be torn apart.
“Ohh,” Pocketcat groaned, throbbing with desperation. He was such a vile gentleman, yes he was. Such a raunchy beast, to violate another man in this way, in the fresh breeze. He wondered if they were visible atop the tower, or if it was too far away. He hoped that they were – that both Per’kele and Rher were watching Da’an being made his.
Such a spectacle, he purred, internally. Oh how joyous it was to give in.
And Da’an would learn this, in time. He wouldn’t have a choice.
Pocketcat thrust, managing to force half of his length into Da’an in one movement. The man shrieked, struggling uselessly beneath him. It was nice of Per’kele to clip his wings, Pocketcat thought. Easier this way, although that was Pocketcat’s favorite part.
He wished that he could have seen the agony in Da’an’s eyes as he relieved him of his arm and leg.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Da’an cried. “You aren’t going to fit- I can’t take anymore-”
“Oh hush,” Pocketcat purred, staring down at him. “You can take all of me, darling. You underestimate yourself.”
Da’an felt stretched beyond belief, as Pocketcat continued thrusting, forcing himself further into the man, inch by inch, until he was finally fully nestled inside. Warm and snug, just where he wanted to be.
He didn’t move, savoring the feeling. Savoring Da’an’s terrified little gasps, and the restrained moans of being utterly stuffed. Oh, he felt truly at home like this. Like this is how everything was always meant to be.
“See, old sport? How much nicer it is to give in?”
Da’an just sobbed, overwhelmed by the sensation. Overwhelmed by him, his obvious love. Pocketcat felt overwhelmed by love as well, by the powerful bond that they clearly shared.
He ran his paw over Da’an’s mark of Sylvian, the womb tattoo that nestled above his wondrous entrance. One claw pricked his delicate skin, drawing a line of blood.
He was going to do this later, in a more fitting location, but wasn’t this fitting enough? Under the moonlight, how romantic!
Pocketcat couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He gripped Da’an harshly, not allowing him to even begin to struggle. The cockwarming was over, he began thrusting anew, pulling out and slamming his entire length into Da’an repeatedly. Da’an’s eye rolled up into his head, gasping and moaning despite himself.
He was losing himself, just as Pocketcat knew that he would.
“Good boy,” He purred, throbbing at the words. “Such a good boy. You were built for this, Sylvian did such a wonderful job.”
Da’an’s mind was completely white, he couldn’t feel anything anymore except pleasure. Even the pain of his severed limbs felt joyous when they rubbed against the tower with each thrust. Finally everything was right, the pain of Elise and his murdered comrades, they faded away. There was just him and Pocketcat’s overwhelming love.
Pocketcat sheathed himself fully, until his tip was firmly planted against Da’an’s cervix. And he came inside Da’an with a loud moan that echoed across the empty sky.
Da’an shuddered under him, giving in to his own overwhelming surge of pleasure. The Sylvian tattoo glowed, and Pocketcat was elated to know that the deed was done. Da’an was filled with more than just his love now.
When Da’an finally came back to himself, he shook with terror, so vividly that Pocketcat had to hold him still.
“Don’t worry, darling,” He said, gathering the man into his arms. “You’ll get used to my love in time.”
Would he? Da’an wondered. Was there any escape from this love?
No, he knew, with a heavy heart. Now that he was marked by the demon, it would be able to track him to the ends of the earth.
He didn’t know what it wanted with his spawn. If it was doing Rher’s bidding, if it was sowing its own seed across the earth in a strange spread of power. If Pocketcat was going to eat them, or if he truly wanted to keep Da’an as a mockery of a mate, raising kits with him as though his love was actually genuine. He didn’t know which of the options was worse.
Eventually, he would find out the answer to that question.
Pocketcat ushered him home, to his strange dwelling. It was filled with horrific paintings of religious figures in various states of ecstasy and agony. Various torture devices lay strewn across the floor, like decoration. He had a set of chains in the corner that Da’an eyed with terror, but Pocketcat placed him into the bed instead.
“Now I’m going to fix you up, as promised,” Pocketcat purred. He had shrunk himself to fit inside the room, but he was still quite overwhelming. Before he left, he patted Da’an’s stomach with a leering smile.
Da’an desperately stared at the door, but the agony of what he experienced lulled him into exhaustion.
Despite his best attempts, he found his body giving in to the sweet embrace of darkness.
Before he fully disappeared, however, he felt the nestling of arms around him. A figure with a dark presence, cuddling him to its chest.
Just another doll in the oddly filled room.