This Demonic Flesh
#26 of Commissions & Gifts
And this one is for https://twitter.com/HutchenceD again
It was his birthday yesterday, yay!
All characters are his
There. I'm up to date, phew
Oh quiet, terrible night, veil of darkness that covers the dreams of mortals and turns them into nightmares... In you I drift, unconscious, unsure, uninterested in having shape. To what end? When the world unfolds in front of you in all it's unbridled glory, what use do you have for flesh? Why ask for eyes when you can see colors beyond this dimension? Why consume earthly matter when the very aether fills you with more pleasure? Why hold another's hand... Hm, very well. Even I must admit there's a certain merit to such. A certain warmth that not even infinity can provide.
I hear it. A voice that lulls me into slumber and stirs me awake, all at once. It calls for me. Is it calling for me? It calls for anyone who may heed it's sound, and it just so happens that I was nearby. At least as much of a concept of nearby as my incorporeal existence can adhere to. I would chuckle to myself if it wasn't such an ancient comment. Ahh, how the mind dwells in meaningless endeavors without anything concrete to focus its energy on. Is this what mortals call boredom? How long has it been since I felt anything similar?
I hear it again. It's an obnoxious sensation, yet a desire I can't seem to shake off. An itch... If it will help me bid farewell to this boredom, I might as well take the opportunity. I would be lying to myself if I said I'm not in the least intrigued. Besides, it's been so long since I had a body, I don't even remember what it looks like. It happens with optional matters, I suppose.
I hear it again, and again, and again. It's closer; close enough that it could be the wind's whisper in my ear. Left alone to continue drifting without my concern, my ethereal self ends up in front of the careless summoner. I can feel their thoughts directing me, pointing to where they want me to be. Following a mortal's orders leaves me with a bitter taste, but anything for a moment of entertainment.
I could just appear there, pop into existence, as they say, but where's the fun in that? Mortals enjoy their pyrotechnics, their smoke and mirrors, anything that shakes their beliefs and makes them question the laws of the universe around them, at least as their incomplete minds understand them. So, a bit of black smoke rising from the floor, darkened clouds forming... Should I add lightning? It seems like we're indoors, so that might be an inconvenient. No, this is enough. I can already feel their mind going frantic with the first prickles of regret. Fickle beings, the living. I have taken the bother of attending your call, I won't leave without at least some partial enjoyment.
I feel it... I feel my consciousness leaving the aether through the clouds. I feel the flesh surrounding me, limiting me, as my understanding goes away. Things I should know about the universe become only a memory, but in exchange I feel the twitching of my fingers, the veins popping across muscular arms, the lashing of my tail; I had one of those? How curious! I'm invaded by such powerful desire to feel myself, to touch my arms and sense the black, leathery skin and the few patches of hair hanging from me. And the spikes... White and sharp fangs that protrude from my shoulders and my collarbone. Ahh, when did my hands reach so high? Am I so easily distracted by the simplicity of flesh? Yet, what I want the most is to feel my face, my head... This skeletal structure, the elongated snout, the horns... Only now do I realize, I missed my horns.
A sigh leaves me, and I remember. Flesh is an inconvenience, matter is inferior to anything I could have. But it's so addictive, and I'm relapsing. Broad chest, pierced nipples, marked abs, all signs of a powerful, sensual male body. I remember making it with that in mind. And further down- Oh! I should hide that, shouldn't I? Mortals have these pesky morals about their bodies but abiding to them is what makes breaking them so enjoyable. A bit of mist will do. You want them to want it, after all.
Them? Ah, I had almost forgotten my summoner. Who do we have here...? A young male, it seems. Sight is a strange gift. What's this species called? A bat, I think... Yes, a bat. Quite a large one, I must say. I recall them leaning to the smaller end of the spectrum, but this young man couldn't be farther from it. Enormous shoulders, thick arms, a torso so delectably wrapped in his clothes that I find myself wanting to tear them off him; something in me stirs, you know exactly what, and I can't help but smile. All these old sensations I'm rediscovering, brought about by a single specimen. One that cowers on the floor in front of my presence.
"Holy shit, it worked..." he speaks! And this is what hearing feels like! Such a peculiar feeling. Speaking... Words are how mortals commune with one another. I remember more than enough of them, but actually saying them out loud is something that may elude me for a while. Ah, but what should I start with? Seeing him crawl back on my feet fills me with pride and the urge to make him my slave through the night boils up until it reaches my throat, begging to burst out, but I know enough to tell how such a thing would grow weary. It's far more interesting to play with their expectations, and the result is far more satisfying.
"Greetings, my summoner," the deep voice that rumbles inside my chest sends shivers down my spine. So exquisite! So powerful! Even I would yield in front of this body, with the sound of this voice. I would yield to myself... But I must concentrate. "To what end have you called for me?"
"Oh my God, it actually worked! Holy fuck!" a loud one, he is, but his initial fright has vanished and now I see an excitable man skipping about. It looks so out of place in such a massive frame. But it's endearing in its own way. "It worked! I can't believe it! I thought this was a complete scam, you know? Just some random online ritual, summoning stuff, you know the drill! I bet you folks get those a lot, don't you? Bunch of summons you just don't feel like answering, like phone calls. Ah, that means I'm even luckier than I thought! A demon actually showed up in my bedroom! What!? Oh my God, this is so amazing, I can get it done for real. Shit, but do I have to sell my soul or something? Man, I should've thought this through..."
He talks a lot. And its nothing I'm eager to listen to either. A demon, he called me... Well, it's far from the first time, and I suppose that with an appearance like this, I'm partially responsible for his misunderstanding. But for him to refer to me as the creature mortals classify as 'demons' only goes to show how undeveloped their kind is. He even drew a pentagram on the floor, with black candles and everything. It's almost adorable. Yet for one who lets these backwards perceptions drive him with such ease, he was able to grasp how attending to the summon also pertains to our own will. An interesting one, this mortal; far sharper than he appears.
A single cough and his attention returns to me. Only now did he stop talking.
"Ah! I'm so sorry, Mr. Demon! Just figuring some things out! I just really need to sort my thoughts and-
"Levi," heh? Is that a name? Did I just blurt it out without a thought? It rolls of the tongue, though. I like the sound of it. I'll keep it. And I should play up the loyal servant while I'm at it, help this poor soul find ease. "You may refer to me as such for as long as our contract lasts, sire. I urge you, share with me your desires and I will put every ounce of power I possess into making them a reality," and end with a bow... The glint in his eyes is so hopeful, it almost hurts me knowing it's all rubbish. Almost.
"Levi. Yes. I, um..." suddenly silent. I have known this man for a minimal amount of time, an instant in the great scope of my long existence, yet it feels out of character. "Shit, this is harder to admit than I thought! See, I like someone. This really big, nice wasp dude, and I want him to like me back," matters of the heart, the same plague that afflicts all living. Yet, to find someone who feels strongly enough to 'sell his soul', as he so picturesquely put it... he's either too passionate or too stupid. My bet is in the second one. "Now that I think about it, summoning a demon might be going too far! But you know, I got excited when I found this online and I kinda wanted to try, so this was a good excuse for it and I might get something out of it, but you know, I'm having seco-
"Sire, please," I say softly, and my hand reaches for his cheek, caressing it, making sure his worries go away. Anything for him to stop talking. But his fur is so tender, so soft to the touch, that it stirs me again. I remember this desire as well. Of all things mortal bodies had shown me, this was the most addictive. And here I am, suffering from it again; that itch that needs to be scratched here and now. "I... have no need for your soul. It's such a common misconception you mortals suffer from. We, the ones who face eternity, the ones who gaze into the knowledge of the cosmos, have no use for such beautiful yet fragile things. Our endless lives are too agitated for you, rare jewels. No, we're beings of pleasure. Forbidden desires, sin... That is what we work with, what we exist for. If the wish that burns your heart so hotly that you would summon one such spawn of darkness is what you want, then it is through sin that my services shall be paid."
Rubbish! Complete rubbish! It's all meaningless purple prose pouring out of my mouth, but it seems to influence him. That glossiness in his eyes, the way his breathing eases yet deepens, are evidence of how much I have affected him; how much I have affected his loins, as one quick glance tells me.
"What... What do you want me to do?" it's almost too easy.
"I need you to put your trust in me," and in a white wisp of smoke, his clothes are gone, and I get the most delectable look at the massive body beneath them. Those plump pecs, those defined abs, and my prize... Just as he's about to fall, I reach for his back and pull us together, eye to eye, able to see how much I have him in my grasp, all of it reflected in the deep brown orbs, so full of innocence and lust. Such a strange one, this young man. Might as well take the chance and reach for my prize, for this powerful rod that yearns its release, that throbs in my fingers and pulses with liquid fire, with energy and life!
"M-My... name is Luca... by the way..." he says between short gasps, each one a mark for my strokes, gentle and full, his own fluids already coating his length in a shining layer. Honestly, I have no interest on his name. He's nothing more than a plaything to fulfill my own long forgotten needs. But knowing it makes me feel warm, somehow...
Lie down, my dear. Lie back on your bed and let me take the reins. Let my body kneel on top of this enormous chest, my hands explore the vastness of your fur. Let my claws sink in and touch the tender flesh underneath, as the fear in your eyes starts rising along with your chest every time you take air. And my tail, this lashing appendage with a mind of its own, will rise until my body is fully exposed to you; this cheeky limb, carelessly showing my own wishes, my hunger...
What else can I do? A single flicker, and the cloud around my own crotch disappears. Shorter spikes line the edge of my waist and my thighs, framing the tall black obelisk that stands proudly in the middle. And harder than before, my head drowns in libido, lust and thirst, all at once, as my flesh screams for its release. How long has it been since I felt anything as strongly as this? How long has it been since I gave up the infinite, impossible knowledge of the universe to become a slave of this mortal, material world? But it's such a pleasurable slavery that I find myself unable to go back to the aether.
And I look down, and I want this man. Fuck your pleasantries! Fuck your restraints and your morals! Let me just go down... Down on that imposing, hardened member of yours. That rich voice echoing the room in a powerful moan, is that my own? But of course, how could it not be, when my body is filled up with your hot flesh. How could I not grow excited when I look at you howling into the night from being squeezed by this example of masculinity I created for this sole purpose? I want to clench... I want to press harder as I ride this cock, as my own slaps against your defined abs and I keep pushing down to your base, to the deepest reaches of my insides that your rod can reach!
How long has it been? How long have I been riding this beautiful cock of yours? I feel so frantic, so needy, I yearn to be filled after all this time! And at long last, you listen to my wishes and let go, your balls clenching as their load shoots furious into my hole, my voice going up from the sensation, my body growing warmer, shaking harder, until my own seed bursts out as well, landing in long, thick ropes all over your impressive body, every inch of you coated in my warm cum. Let our climaxes join, synch in one loud, erotic symphony that will continue together and die together, when your cock stops throbbing inside me and only a few drops of your hot seed roll out of my cheeks and back down the curve of your balls...
...
...
...
How shameful. Here I am, a creature of the aether, one who prides himself with the power of their psyche and the transcendence of the material world, losing my mind into the pleasures of the body. I think I even repeated a word once back there; such poor syntax. Such are the threats of flesh. But I would do it again. Countless times.
"Is it... Woo... Was that the price?" he asks with that same hopeful look in his eyes. Look at him, he's so tired. Breathing so hard. I want to make him breath harder. I look at the spikes around my crotch and all I think is how I want them to sink around his cheeks while I sink my length inside his hole.
One kiss. I lean down and plant one single kiss on his lips. And right after, he falls asleep, with the unspoken promise that in the morning this will be nothing more than the best wet dream his little head has ever had.
To take such magnificent cock out of my ass right when my body has been created, right when it screams for more pleasure, is the true shame, but it would be irresponsible of me to let a mortal man become to aware of our existence. The drips of seed rolling down the back of my legs are only a reminder of my regret, but after such an act I must show some willpower as well. I had my fun. I'm sure I can find plenty of wizards and other mortals closer to us, aware of our existence, to have fun with. No need to push myself with the first one I found, even if he is such an excellent lover.
Another wisp of smoke and all his 'summoning materials' are gone. Better safe than sorry, I suppose. And just like that, every evidence of my presence is gone, as if I had never manifested in this bedroom. Nothing more than a pleasant, playful memory for him to think about and maybe have fun with himself later in life. It should be no more, after all. Instead, I look at the window, at the ebony blanket of the night, sprinkled with buildings and lights everywhere, thinking to myself where exactly my next plaything might be.
Luca... I think of his name and end up smiling to myself again. There's something about names. Perhaps I should collect them. How many other Lucas will I end up coming across, sharing the gift of my flesh with, becoming one... I find it difficult for any of them to get to your level.
And just as I look back, he turns around in his bed, presenting me with such body, such flesh! So round and plump, so firm and soft, like a peach! Perfect! Perfect in every aspect, that ass! Begging me...
It's not too late to wake him up.