"To be blunt," his voice slithers the length of the table. "...it means I own you. You are bound to me, your master; like a pet,"
Your eyes blink rapidly as your brain stalls on that one word.
"...which, of course, means that you are mine to play with and stroke when I please." The demon declares, and something predatory and possessive kindles in his expression as he illuminates the fine print of what you have actually agreed to.
Your body goes rigid as a board and your blood chills in your veins, tightening your skin with a prickling sensation as every hair stands on end. Time slows to a delirious crawl.
'Oh, shit.'
As your eyes widen, his gaze menacingly narrows as he watches with rapt satisfaction as the truth seeps in, his lips skinning back into a wicked grin, freezing the marrow in your bones.
You leave it at that, as you are unsure how to even respond, and Demiurge is perfectly content to let your stew on the fact that you are now his slave in every sense of the word as he polishes off his dinner.
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Snippet from Chapter 9 which is in the works .
You can read 1-7 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25904596/chapters/62954236
