Demon domme who can just smell the guilt on me. Who can feel my fear and see me flinching and see me holding back. Who can see very clearly how ashamed I am to feel arousal and attraction. “Why are you afraid to enjoy me? Why are you afraid to enjoy yourself?”
Demon domme who takes my hands in hers and physically puts them where she wants them, guides me into touching her, watches my face go from fear to sleepy passivity. “Come sin with me, sweet thing.”
She lets me worship her neck, she lets me cry at my own fall from grace while I touch her and explore her with my hands while my face is buried abashedly into her shoulder. Her hands run over my back and I can feel her sharp nails along my spine.
It’s quaint to her how gentle my hands are, as small as they are compared to hers. She can’t believe that I’m this pathetic, that I’m this afraid. She thinks its adorable. She knows I can’t fuck her, not while I’m still so scared.
My head is just swimming with scary thoughts, nearly crying while I’m trying so hard to be strong for her. I don’t want to hurt her, I don’t want her to hurt me, I don’t want to be bad, I don’t want to force her to be bad with me-
“Do you want me to corrupt you, sweetheart?” And she’s grabbed a handful of hair at the base of my neck, gently forcing me to my knees, “You want me to take you back to Hell with me?”
She watches me unravel in her hands, watches me grapple with my morality as I take her devil cock into my mouth. She thinks it’s cute that I’m trying so hard not to enjoy it, wondering why on earth I would feel so bad when other boys would jump at the chance to suck her off.
And I start shaking and sobbing because I’m furiously trying to shake my head but the smell of her sweat and her delicate skin against my tongue makes it hard to think of anything else. I shift on my knees and my hips buck into nothing as if on their own accord. She laughs and she can tell already that it’s exactly what I need, even if I don’t realize it yet. Or maybe I do, but just can’t bring myself to say it, especially with my mouth so full of her.
“I’d be so popular with the other girls if I came home with a new boytoy.” She says, “You look like a praying man- so pretty down there on your knees.”
It’s at this point that she revokes my right to a choice, letting me squirm and struggle while she fucks my mouth, hushing me and telling me it’s alright. I watch her so carefully, see the moment when she goes from seeing me as a boy to forgetting that I’m a person at all, just a warm little hole to fuck an unholy load into. And I nearly choke, claw at her hips and sputter and sob when she lets herself cum.
“Don’t cry, boy,” I flinch at the edge in her voice, “I’ve given you a gift- don’t be disrespectful.“
She finally lets me off of her, and I gasp and try to breathe and babble some nonsense about not wanting to hurt her, not wanting to take her womanhood from her, begging her to let me fuck her properly, begging her to let me make her feel good the way I’ve made other girls feel-
“Darling, I’m six feet tall and my hell-cock was just all the way down your throat, you’re not gonna hurt me.” She laughs sweetly and grabs my hair, “You don’t get it. I’m not like those human girls you’re used to- I’m better.”
I don’t quite understand yet that worshipping her like this is how its supposed to work. She’s gorgeous and strong and having a sweet boy to fuck whenever she likes isn’t shameful. It’s feminine, superior, commonplace in Hell.
“I’ll show you, baby.” She says sweetly, nails tracing my jaw, “You have much to learn among devils like me.”
