Puppet Master
Definition of SNUFF: characterized by the sensationalistic depiction of violence; especially: featuring a real rather than a staged murder.
Author's note: Read at your own risk.
~Character: Ryon, Demon.
~Introduction~
The days in hell weren't cutting it anymore for Ryon, a demon of the court of Fornnoue, infernal king of the element of air. With a quick and agile mind left torturous with no one for him to tutor left him with countless free time. It was the month of Jupiter, his month, one that he hoped to be summoned upon the surface once more. Being up there on the earth's surface would allow him to appear as an illusion for the person, between granting them a boon he would satisfy his own needs upon the go. Here in hell the flesh-crafters had all the fun on the new arrivals and those condemned to torture for all of eternity. Taking bloated bodies or even rotten skin to create masterpieces. Even when the souls were being tortured a fleshcrafter ran a knife against their skin. The screams of agony were music to Ryon's ears where he grew insanely jealous. Jealousy was too common here just like sex, lust, liars, rape monsters. Where was the flare? Sighing he looked down at himself, no real color, shape or form for that matter. Only able to do so when he was summoned and if lucky he could be a humanoid, maybe replace wings, form in a bright red skin. The endless possibilities were clever but it depends on the ones that beckoned. His thoughts shattering as the last lingered vision of his previous form teased his memory, the inhalation of the sulfur had an erotic scent, mystical series of incense with a taste of lotus beckoned him; "Finally.." He growled in pleasure.
Chapter One:
The image of the snow white blankets were distorted beyond recognition yet oddly familiar and soothing. The simplest of simple disturbances was in fact the speeding heart that pounded heavily against the rib cage of a dark fur with sharp pointy ears in front of Ryon. Ryon had yet to present himself, lurking in the darkness. Observing the male watching his teeth displaying pearly every time his lips rolled back in a devilish sneer. This creature was in his own habitat of darkness and his thunderous growl that stirred the demon in place with further curiosity. Studying the figure to see him in better light, a gray wolf, Canius Lubus Lycaon to be exact. The wolf paced back and forth across the hidden location that upheld an aura of the wolf's deepest and crucial desires. Beat after beat echoing through his ears just as he rubbed a hand over his black hair with white and pink stripes. "It has to be soon, no wait; it's only been two weeks." The wolf grumbled low continuing his long strides back and forth. Built thin, slender with little muscles standing in leg warmers and a blue set of a men's underwear that were tailored to hug and give figure to his ass, typical fem-boy.
Flashbacks hit left and right occupying his brain whilst the grounding rush of blood coursed its way to his cock forming a bloody bulge forcing his dick to poke out the rim of the underwear. The beautiful display of a cross bar that went through the tip famously known as the Ampallang and pre was surfacing in a light pool before rolling down the underside drenching the clothing. Flicking the tip with his middle digit punishing it for erupting his thoughts. Taking the time to rub his paw against the fabric stroking faster to match his beastly pants. "He was delicious." He slurred in ecstasy, "the way he begged not to be killed.." Groaning out he tossed his head back with a threatening growl erupting from his maw. His paw was wrapped around his cock having the underwear hastily shoved down. Stroking his shaft faster as he thought of his victims tongue trying to push his cock out of his mouth had him shiver, those gags were loud and so sweet to the ears. The faster he stroked, the more his imagination pushed him having him quickly erupting a thick creamy load across the floor in ropes making him drop to his knees in a moment of weakness. "Dammit.." He huffed as he cleaned off his cock with his palm, looking at the mess he made, pulling up his underwear he got some napkins to clean up the mess he had made and finished his preparations for tomorrow night.
The following night was swallowed by the dark pits that held captive to what we would define as a sky only to be betrayed by the glistening snows reflection. A night to be passed off as a romantic outlet for a couple strolling through the night, stumbling into their lover's arms, yet it was only eight o'clock. The male wolf was dressed for his mission, short shorts that had the front button undone and the tabs folded outwards having his thong displayed. A silver chain rested on his hips with the word, 'SLUT' right across his abdominal muscles. His shirt was merely a tube top that hung loosely over his frame, hair was slick and styled so that the pink and white stripes really glowed in the dark. Dressed and ready like any other slut he finally left the comfort of his cave towards the secret dungeons in town. Dungeons for BDSM lovers which was only a short drive away, glancing into the mirror occasionally, "You sexy slut." he told himself several times before parking in a near empty parking lot. Pulling out a simple collar that roped around his neck with a tag that was labeled as pet, taking a long sniff of the air as he walked into the location feeling his fur raise in excitement as he picked the scent of his prey. The music theme of the night was metal with no specific band he could recall, the loud clank of the door shutting had an ounce of panic course through his chest quickly fading leaving only the adrenaline.
The dungeons were always dark and barely lit as several pieces of sexual equipment pieces were bare or used, and the strong scent of blood and sex filled the stuffy concentrated rooms. He followed the scent to a the specific part of the dungeon. Ropes hung from the ceiling and candles barely lit. "Oh how lovely, so hazardous this place can be." Snickering softly he spotted a female standing about 4'8" with leather bindings around her calves, fishnets, and corset that could make anyone beg. She happened to be alone and she was sick from what he could tell. Moving over to her he knelt down, "Unworthy to look upon your beauty I dare to ask for a simple request, a request to feel your firm hand." He lowered his ears submissively towards the female. The hooves that cluttered upon the dungeons cemented floor caused him to tremble in anticipation. He inhaled slowly taking a taste of her sweet aroma, looking past the sickness to the feminine perfume between her legs. It was a deadly yet inviting fragrance that was full of sinfulness, he could instantly tell some jerk blew their load inside of her recently. Maybe a couple of hours had passed by, 'What a Dirty Whore...' he was currently thinking as the first sting of pain shot across his back, the loud crack of the cane echoing the dungeon as he fell forward growling softly almost giving away his submissive game. Her hand slid into his hair, a large fistful hold that had his head rearing back and a heavy panted cry to echo before the Ram brought her face to his. "What? Little Wolf can't handle a little pain?" She taunted in a deathly whisper.
To be continued..................
Written by Driana Le Souris