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#ars goetia
character-estudio · 2 months
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HIERARCHY OF HELL
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jyoongim · 30 days
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This isn't exactly a request but a thought that had been so heavy on my brain. Hellborn royalty reader x Alastor who's stronger than he is. I just can't stop thinking about it. Maybe even Goetia reader whew they are stronger and protect him from something and I just go FERAL at the thought.
Some background context:
The Ars Goetia are a royal dynasty of noble hellborn demons who serve as prophets, messengers, and observers of the mortal plane for the King of Hell. They are responsible for maintaining stability within the seven rings. They are highly knowledgeable in the heavens, society, and prophecies of all domains.
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The hotel was a wreck.
The Angels had made it their personal mission to eliminate those who resided in the hotel.
The Princess of Hell had acquired your assistance if things got shaky for them.
And OH things were shaking.
Alastor had took it upon himself to fight Adam, when you suggested you could of great help he turned you down. Stating that he would be able to handle the Angel himself.
But things were not looking good for the Radio Demon.
You admired the confidence he had, but the demon was in a sticky situation and you would be damned if anyone hurt YOUR demon.
You were fuming and it was showing.
You calmly walked through the fighting, every attack thrown your way didn’t even touch you as you quickly dispatched your attackers. 
You appeared in front of the injured deer in a cloud of smoke. 
“Hehe who the fuck are you?” Adam asked, but you ignored him as you checked on Alastor.
He was bleeding and weak, you placed your hands on his face, scowling softly “Oh Alastor my sweet. You did good my love but Ill take over from here” he tried to object, but with a wave of your hand, you dissolved him in mist to keep him safe.
You turned to Adam, who was smirking “Tch! You think you can take me? Ha! If your best couldn’t scratch me what thinks you can?”
You smiled, your body morphed into mist “who said he was our best?”
He attacked, swinging his axe and trying to bring it down on you. Your eyes glowed white and with a flick of the wrist he was frozen to the spot. You curled your fingers and watched as the Angel contorted in pain. You hissed “I am the judge and executioner and you, you arrogant pig have no authority here. Divine violence is my right for power belongs to those who take it.” At your words, the sky formed dark clouds and the realm shook.
Adam let out a scream as your magic crackled along his skin, searing pain riddling his body as you burned his wings and corrupted his every soul.
“YOU CANT DO THIS! I AM ADAM! THE FIRST MAN! YOU BITCH! NO NO NO NO!” Your mist enveloped his body and he slowly morphed to black as you took his life. You watched as his soul screeched and struggle. 
You pulled him towards him and smirked, sneering at him with sharp teeth
“Vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord” 
And with a soft blow from your lips, he dispersed. His soul crying as you sent him to Limbo.
Hell shook as your magic rocked the cosmos.
The remaining Angels let out a cry as they were struck with pain, felt in their soul.
You were sucking their power and in an attempt to save themselves they retreated back to Heaven.
You morphed back to normal and your misty shadows revealed Alastor to you.
You picked up the red demon and nudged him with your nose, he grumbled ”Y-You didn’t have to intervene. I had it under control”
You hummed, a soft smile on your face a his stubbornness “completely but I wasn’t going to stand around when you clearly needed my help.”
Your face dropped to a pout “don’t tell me that me being stronger hurts your pride? You should be honored. A woman willing to protect her love is a powerful thing to behold”
Alastor sighed, relaxing against you, feeling the exhaustion of the battle overtake him.
You cooed at him, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “Don’t worry I don’t think anything less of you. I think you’re the strongest man I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting”
The Radio Demon might have been a prideful soul, but it was you who was the strongest.
And really…he was ok with that fact.
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wanderingsorcerer · 10 months
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Here is a comprehensive collection of all of the posts I've done on the occult and the spells I've done and spell resources. This will be added to over the life of the blog as well this way everyone won't have to dig for everything. And you get to learn a bit more about my practice.
Occult & Folklore Lessons
History Of Solomonic Practices
Ars Goetia 72 demons Kings
Ars Goetia 72 Demons Dukes Pt. 1
Petitioning Deities From Around The Globe
Ancient Art of Osteomancy
Curses: A History On The Dark Arts and How to Practice Them
The Enochian Language
Scrying, A History, and Guide
CELTIC FOLKLORE&MYTHOLOGY 101
Realm of Celtic Faeries
Protection From Malignant Spirits
Appalachian Folk Practices 101
Incantation Bowls
Spells and Rituals
Exorcism
Exorcism Charms
Exorcism Powder
Boundary Powder
Everlight Candles
Solarian Oil
Vincula Luna
Igni Bowls
Basic Banishment
Binding A Spirit To An Object
Malignant Spirit Binding Totem
Pseudo Moon Water
Medicinal Herbs & Remedies
Tincture For Sleep
Salve For Minor Injuries
Grimoire Reading List
this is added to periodically it's free pdfs you can download
Informational Joke Posts/Answered Asks
Greek Sacrifice Traditions
Is Mana Real?
Sonneillon The Demon Of Hate
Demonolatry for Lesser Known Demons
Do you have to be born with magic, or can anyone learn it?
Navigating the Divide Between Legitimate Academic Study and Occult Fiction
Can magic heal physical injuries or illnesses, or is that just stuff they show in movies?
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dark-kanova · 5 months
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Asmodeus - Harborer of otherworldly arts and tempter with hidden knowledge 
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ashiyadoumanmmmm · 4 months
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Made a male version after being inspired by this post.
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akunoniwa · 5 months
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Doctor's Note
Synopsis: In which you get diagnosed and treated by your local Dr. Demon
Pairing: Gaap (Ars Goetia) x fem!reader
Warnings: MDNI, essentially just... demon fucking...
WC: ~4.5k
He’d already know your body too well, exactly where to touch and how, seeing as he’s a seasoned doctor. It didn’t matter that you’d only visited him just this once, he knew exactly what ailed you. 
An excuse.
You’d read all about him, as you’d heard he takes phenomenal care of his patients, but an unusual sense of pride kept you from submitting to your curiosity. Until now.
“It’s strange…” He began, his voice buoyant despite its density. He’d done all of the typical procedures, asking about your medical history, taking your blood pressure, but he feigned ignorance of your real intent. He wanted to entertain your coyness, as it’s nothing new… But you seemed particularly delectable, as he recognized you’re not one easily swayed.
His wanting to change the subject naturally had you alert, waiting for him to continue with suspended brows.
“You’d made this appointment with an air of reasoning as if I’d find something wrong?” His eyes did not raise, as his gaze was focused on his pen lacing ink into quick, ornate letters on the report. The sound of the dextrous and hasty ballpoint imprinting strings of words onto the page somehow spoke of his personality to you… It was oddly fascinating to watch.
You were skeptical of this remark, as you’d made no obvious note of this being your motive, it’s merely a regular physical, “I just haven’t been keeping up with my health, and you were recommended to me…”
He gently huffed out what almost seemed to be a smug scoff, setting his clipboard on the counter behind him. You still sat propped up on the observation table, feeling almost infantilized by the way your feet barely reached the step-down.
“There’s just one last step, I need to check your lungs and heart…” You noted that he didn’t keep the stethoscope around his neck but rather it was hung on the wall. 
Within your reading up on him, you were quickly put on to why he was so ‘renowned’. Yes, he was genuinely an accomplished scholar, particularly in women’s health, but… Men and women alike would rave about how he’d ‘take care of them’ like no one else… You couldn’t snuff these thoughts out as he neared you from the side.
“If I may pry, who recommended me?” He hesitated to place the diaphragm against you. You felt disgusted by the way you were becoming increasingly aware of his proximity. 
“Just a coworker, we were chatting about how negligent I am when it comes to my doctor visits… I know I need to pay more attention.” You gave an earnest response, trying to dilute any suggestive thoughts, though they were growing unbearably potent.
He hummed in acknowledgment with a considering pout, carrying on with checking your upper back, the cold of the bell piece cutting through your blouse, “Deep breath in…” He guided, almost lifting you with his voice
“And despite having a previous physician, you chose me?” He paused, “Breathe out.” He repositioned the diaphragm slowly against your back. He noticed your breath was tense instantly, trying to stifle any satisfaction in this. Your heart rate undeniably went up as he neared questionable territory with his interrogating.
“I was intrigued, my last doctor was not the most compassionate.” Your reasoning was quick, perhaps justified, but he liked the way your breath hitched as he moved around your back.
“One last breath in…” His voice rose as if he was holding the same breath, “And out.”
He rounded to your front, standing before you, “Just breathe as you normally would here.” He placed the piece in the center of your chest as you tried to avoid looking directly at his face. He was so close, you were in his sphere of scent, a delicately botanic, smoky kind.
“I said to breathe normally.” He asserted again with a small grin, “You just cannot seem to relax…”
“A doctor’s office isn’t particularly comforting.” Your eyes shot as far away from seeing his expression as possible, your cheeks tarnished with faint embarrassment.
“Is that what it is? Your blood pressure was entirely normal earlier… Perhaps there is something amiss with you…” His words dragged and coiled around you, reminiscent of his handwriting, aptly stringing you along.
You’ve been caught, pressing your lips together in a bashful attempt to not say something ridiculous, “And what might that be.” You maintained a level tone as best as you could.
He still held the scope in place, enjoying how you writhed, your breaths smaller, not so much frantic, but unsteady. He was surely staring at your face from his elevated angle, you could feel his gaze on you as if you were an ant under a magnifying glass.
His prior facade of professionalism dropped elegantly like a theater curtain, heavy as he leaned into you, his lips inches from your ear, “You know exactly why you came here, how long would you like to continue rehearsing this scene?”
Your frenzied heart rate was enough to drive him wild, but he knew how to keep tempo.
“... I…,” You were at a loss, not wanting to hear much more of your meek voice. His heat radiated over your whole body, voice seeping into you.
“I’ll show you compassion just this once,” His words were bowed with an audible grin, “Only if you can report to me what exactly brought you here. Truly.” He finally hung the scope to idle around his neck, wanting to hear your every syllable, even if they wavered.
Your words certainly didn’t come easily, “I was curious why you’d received such appraise… And I wanted to find out for myself.”
“You know what I am and what I do, and still sit here as if I have to evaluate you to find out your pitiful deficiencies.” You hadn’t noticed your legs instinctually parted to allow him closer, “You want me to assess your body, in more ways than one.”
“Is this not malpractice, you acting this way, doctor?” Your voice had surely withered under the weight of anticipation.
He was more moved by your calling him ‘doctor’ than he should have been, as it’s something he hears all the time… Your voice, strained and borderline needy, rearranged the word in his mind, “I’ll give you any version of malpractice you prefer, darling.” He finally distanced his face to align with yours, seeing your slipping guise from inches away.
“What would you prescribe to someone with my so-called pitiful deficiencies?” You playfully continued the bit, you both intertwined in the teasing like strands of a rope.
“Hmm… I may need a closer look, after all, just to ensure… May I?” You were caught off guard by his genuine concern about touching you.
“I can’t just go home untreated, can I? Whatever you need to do to cure me of these deficiencies, please…” You realized you’d properly left your decency and pride tied to a light post outside of the clinic.
He took in a breath himself, overwhelmed by your eager presence… No demon should have this much power without checks and balances… He salivated at the thought of ravaging you, tipped by your trailed ‘please’.
His hand, gloved in blue latex, rose to rest against your cheek as he showed you a doting look, “Stand up for me…”
You managed to still have a tinge of reservation, hesitating for barely a second. But, you both knew why you were here, there were no secrets to hang onto. You obliged as his hand fell, he stepped back allowing you some room. You had to admit, you were susceptible to his towering height as he scanned over you, somehow the silence served more to tension than awkwardness.
“To ascertain accurate results… These lovely clothes just won’t do, I regret to say…” He continued his character pretending to be upset by this. He stepped into you once again, an index finger pulling at your belt to undo the buckle, snaking it off of you through the loops. Even the mere sensation of this in tandem with your anticipation was starting to gnaw at you.
Along with the stethoscope, he hung your belt around his neck, “Perhaps this could be useful… Go ahead and strip for me darling, this could serve my research well.”
You committed to this energy, removing everything that clouded your bare form as he watched, head cocked observingly as he leaned back against the counter. Only the sound of clothes slipping against skin flooded the space. His eyes swayed and lingered over every detail, his hands anchored to the counter’s edge at either side of him, looking nonchalantly imposing.
“Any prognosis?” You called to him as he had to tear his eyes from your body.
“Oh, it’s severe, seeing as you just willingly stripped naked for someone of my ilk.” He closed in on you again, unable to resist playing with you.
His rubbery hands reached to entrap you, starting from your ribcage, thumbs briefly brushing over your nipples. He spared no specific attention to any one thing, sliding down over your waist, to your hips. He watched his hands as you watched his faded eyes, even his blinks were languid as he felt you observing him.
“Turn around.” It was an order, but his voice still floated above your head as you obeyed, turning in his grasp.
He hummed, pleased as his touch rose to your shoulders, then dragged torturously to your ass. Although you were not instructed, it felt as if you were once again holding onto a breath, releasing as composed as you could manage as his hands groped your flesh, “These are quite nice… Typically they look better in a red… Or maybe…” His words wandered off to somewhere unknown, a hand rising to push at your upper back, forcing you to bend forward.
“You’re very compliant, darling.” You felt an acidic wave of lust roll through you at his thoughtless praise.
By the silence, you judged he was certainly made aware of your most deficient parts, your cunt probably more obviously intrigued than anything else.
“Hmm… This is most likely where your problem lies…” A latex-clad finger made faint contact with your clit, causing your thighs to twitch at the attention, to which he chuckled through his nose, “Severe indeed.” His hand pushed you down further causing you to be on maximum display as his feather-light touch grazed up to find your glistening hole. You bit your lip, but harder on a groan you attempted to constrict.
“Don’t hold back, I need you to communicate with me so I can know what’s wrong.” You were still caught up by how nice his fanned hand forcing you down onto the observation table made you feel, let alone his meandering touch. You could envision how lewd it looked, the image making you falter.
His index finger still lingered around your hole in no particular manner, as if he was genuinely taking note of your anatomy, “Surely you’re aware… Typically when your cunt is this soaked…” His upper half leaned over your folded form, wringing you out with his heady demeanor, “It means you desire something desperately.”
Your head inadvertently raised to try and close any gap between you, craning up in aroused dejection. You could feel him pressed against you, he was undoubtedly having his fun.
“Does this align with your symptoms?” A hand wound under your left arm, snaking to wrap underneath your jaw, forcing you closer to his voice, “Tell me.”
“Yes, doctor.” You choked out, noticing his eyes bloom when you called him that earlier, you decided to use your own trump card.
He groaned above you, his voice blanketing you, “There’s only one thing I know of to treat cases like yours…” He pushed his hips ever so slightly into your backside causing your eyes to flicker, “But you self-diagnosed before you even came to my clinic… Dirty little thing.”
He lifted himself to straighten, “It’s phenomenal, this human form… But it seems you are more excited by my barbaric, obscene interior…” A pair of fingers played at your hole once again, barely pushing into you, “You can’t be satiated by just a human… You want something more. Something diabolic.” Slowly, his fingers progressed as he continued to whirl on, driving you mad with his words.
He could feel that you were clenching, smiling with amusement, “Is this true? You’d prefer to be fucked by a beast like myself?”
How you’d answer that outright, you were initially unsure, but his fingers curled down, adeptly pushing into a perfect spot, “I-I… Yes, I would.” You loved the idea of him fucking you with his latex gloves, something about how sterilizing and surgical it felt.
“You’d like that?” He pressed, establishing a crawling pace with his hand.
“Yes, I’d like that.”
“Your cunt is so hot and wet, darling, you may just melt these gloves off…” He mused, basking in your pleasure.
You couldn’t help but let your body sway into his fingers, meeting his pace. Your whole being was throbbing, letting your satisfaction leave you as pants. You were growing more desperate to cum, wanting to coat his fingers with your release, though he pulled his hand away.
“Stand and turn for me, darling,” You did so, though slowly so as to not underestimate your delirium, forced to make eyes with him as he tasted you, “Utterly divine, you taste so sweet…”
You couldn’t help but feel scorn towards him, being made to watch him clean your juices thoroughly from his fingers, “Jesus…” He looked gorgeous, just like that.
“Not quite.” He jested, his fingertips reaching to play at your bottom lip until you allowed access, taking his lithe fingers in your mouth. He watched you intently, beyond himself as it set in that such a pretty little human would stoop so eagerly down to his level.
He gradually pulled his hand away, watching the way your lips wrapped so nicely until the heat of your mouth was but a ghost. He painted a trail of your saliva down your chin, making a mess of you, “Your breasts are lovely too, I must say.” 
He stretched his gloves off, exposing skin with markings that resembled black, veiny cracks. You were not repulsed, quite the contrary, his skin looked like a glass mosaic, his bare hands cupping your breasts. Feeling the rough texture of his skin against yours only amplified his effect.
“Your reactions are too much for me, it’s making it hard for me to keep composure…” He played at your nipples between his thumb and index, making you squirm.
“I didn’t come here for your composure.” You placed your hands on his kintsugi skin, hoping to urge him on.
“I am… well aware, darling.” His hands left you, shouldering off his lab coat, setting your belt to still be within reach, “You’ll need to be fucked back into health.”
As he continued to remove his work attire, he continued to reveal his increasingly onyx skin, the closer to his chest, the more dense the black. It was incredible, you couldn’t help but gawk, to which he smirked almost sheepishly, “Why don’t you sit pretty for me back on the table…”
You were balancing on his every command at this point, loving the feeling that embraced your body in this moment. You hopped back up on the table to face him, spreading your legs to taunt him. He moved routinely to his lower half, adoring how you watched as his trousers fell for him to push aside along with his shoes. You wouldn’t say you were shocked, but his cock was surely not human, three knots that staggered in increasing size from his tip to the base. Immediately, the irresistible thought of him pushing you open, feeling those crevices move your insides… You didn’t think you could grow any wetter.
“I love that expression you’re wearing… The only thing I’ll allow.” His hand wrapped around himself, pumping his bulbous length. You had a paradoxically innocent urge to simply stroke him, of course never having seen this before. You felt sordid for being turned on at the sight of him touching himself right before you.
You took it upon yourself to let a hand find your clit, seeing if this would induce any reaction from him. It most certainly did, an inferno sparked in his chest, let alone his cock, as he watched you play with yourself so deviantly. He was debating… Should he keep dragging you around with his antics… Or are you in such a grave state that you must be cured right this instant? His own heart raved at the possibilities, mind flooded with a mirage of your pretty body doing such horrific things for him.
“What’s on your mind…?” He asked, his hand still cycling in a fluid motion in a stalemate.
“You.” You grinned, “What’s this cure you spoke of?”
Your being direct stoked him, causing him to chuckle deep from his chest, “I think I need to cure you until you’re properly bedridden, darling.”
You pushed your middle and ring finger into your beckoning cunt as you propped a leg up on the table, causing his eyes to immediately shoot to yours, almost in warning, “Please, doctor, I’m at your mercy.”
He let out an undeniable scoff this time, taking a few steps to near you as he grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away, “I fucking hate how you call me that.” He aligned the tip of his alien-looking cock with your hole, that being enough to send shockwaves through you, “Keep doing it.” 
He decided to channel his teasing into you, only pushing his girthy tip inside at a molasses pace, finally coaxing out the most beautiful sounds from you. You both had unanimous thoughts of how good the other felt, your pussy was impossibly soft and plush, his length surprisingly velvety as he angled himself to hit that same delicious spot. You felt your hole stretch around his first, modest knot as he’d continuously remove himself completely to shove himself back inside you.
“Do you think you need more? How do you feel, darling?” His hand gripped your thigh that still rested on the table, squeezing out your reply.
“It feels so good, doctor, but…”
He was awed by the fact you could still be embarrassed to express your needs, he found it almost endearing, “But…?” He pulled out to admire his tip glistening with your creamy slick, waiting for you.
He was going to make you say it, regardless. Even just the sight of his shaft that curved upward so enticingly made you quiver, “I need more.” God, you sounded so whiny and small.
His strong grip on your thigh was alarming, but not unexpected as his first knot slid in with ease once more, though the second demanded more of you. Paired with the stretch, he was starting to push fairly deep into you, finally starting to reorganize your insides as you imagined. You couldn’t tie down a labored ‘fuck’ as he began to thrust at a steady pace. Every time he pushed back into you, an indescribably foreign feeling of being perfectly spread by each knot exploded inside you. You decided to place your hands on his shoulders to keep balance as he hunched over your starved form.
Your moans were of a heavenly timbre he’d never know otherwise as he experimented with pace and angle to see which would make you sing. Your wetness coated the very beginning of his final, large knot as he thrust into you, but you couldn’t imagine it actually managing to fit. Because of its shape, his cock accentuated the squelches from your cunt, the crude sounds seeming to bounce off the walls.
He found another spot deep inside you, concocting a burn, itch, smolder… Every sensation was being triggered as he sheathed into you repeatedly, knowing he had found your sweetest spot, “You can’t even cry… How adorable…” His hand found your cheek once more as his eyes seemed to reach into you, cradling your gaze.
He wasn’t unfazed, in fact, your broken moans were like shards of glassy pleasure in his lower abdomen, he felt deific as he took you. And you took him so well… He’d almost plead to the gods himself if it meant that you’d clench onto him like this eternally. For a demon, he was quite considerate, as he’d never force you, but he wanted so desperately for you to absorb all he had, his final knot prodding at your cunt.
His hands slid to your knees, urging you to wrap your legs around his torso, lifting you as soon as you followed. Gravity lent itself to the intensity as you were slammed down onto him, his hands spread on either side of your ass. While you found yourself nearly unable to make a sound, finally he seemed to begin to crack, his deep moans touching a whole new kind of place inside you.
“You look so cute, your wasted expression…” He held you with one arm wrapped around your back, his other hand playing with your lips, “I wonder how sweet you look when you cum…?”
You could only give him an imploring look, your body being split open.
“My sick little darling…” You felt his final knot manage to slip in a bit further, causing you to cry out in pleasure, “Cum on my cock…” His voice wavered in time with his thrusts.
If you were to refer to any orgasm as explosive, this could be the only one, having never been spread that wide. Luckily he could easily support your form as you convulsed and shattered around him. You could almost immediately be thrown over again as his last knot slipped entirely inside your cunt.
“F-fuck, darling–” He stammered, his face contorted with frustration as he tried not to cum just yet wanting to prolong this moment. You felt so complete as he held you, your head resting on his void for a chest, warming his knots. You wanted to feel his searing load paint your insides, but he merely held your hips in place as you felt his cock tremble inside you.
He managed to move, setting you back down on the table letting you lay back.
“How do you feel…?” His words sounded as if they were squashed and dragged under a shoe, so incredibly tense as he gave your gleaming body a once… or twice over.
You couldn’t control how your cunt continued to squeeze, “So good…”
He wanted more. More of your voice, more of your touch. He decided to pull out, painstakingly slow, somehow, much to his surprise, managing not to implode. You both shared a groan of delight as the sliding friction tore at each other. A ring of your creamy sweet decorated the base of his cock, he watched as your wetness seemed to pour from you as he vacated your hole.
You wanted him to feel good… You had a fiery urge to ensure he was satisfied, almost to a point of not being able to recognize your own mind’s voice.
“Can you stand up one last time… for me?” He sounded pathetic… No human had ever obliterated his senses like this before, he didn’t think it was possible. He found humans to be amusing little toys… Not that you weren’t, but…
You obliged without question, watching as he turned away briefly to grab your belt. Of course his body was chiseled, something he knew appealed to mortal toys like yourself, you got another chance to study him until he faced you again.
He grabbed your wrists, binding them with your belt, and raised them above your head in one hand. He turned you with his other, walking you to the landscape window in his third-story office, having always wanted to do something like this. A foot or two away, he stopped, pressing your top half forward at your wrists, the side of your face and breasts pressed against the freezing glass. You felt so shameless… And so empty as you waited for him to fill you.
“Do you like being humiliated?” His familiar tip danced at your used hole, “Answer.” His domineering words ignited you.
“By you.” You answered candidly, words slightly distorted from your face being held against the window.
“Such a good, slutty little patient you are.” He plunged the entirety of his cock back into you swiftly, obsessed with how his largest knot was absorbed so easily.
“I want you to cum inside me, doctor…” You whined impatiently, completely lost in him.
“I’m sure you fucking do.” His words were shredded between his teeth, “You’d love that. I wish someone could see how fucking bad you want my cum.”
“Please…” You urged him to move, still in disbelief that he buried himself so far.
He was nearly at his own wit’s end, thrusting himself up into you, his hips colliding forcefully against your ass. His free hand was soldered to your waist, ensuring you remain as a statue in this unpleasant pose, it being uncomfortable somehow adding to the storm surge brewing inside you.
“Are you going to cum again, darling?” Your eyes were squeezed shut, just nodding worthlessly against the glass as he cooed so sinfully. “I love seeing you dance so beautifully on my cock, give me all of you.”
His tactic of plunging his entire length into you repeatedly was something you were particularly susceptible to, his knots rolling effortlessly through you, “Fuck… Yes...” His voice was as smoky as his scent, fogging your mind. He slammed into you one final time, holding you tightly against him as you both reached your highs. His thick seed was so hot, coating your walls so deliciously, his pants raining down against your back. You felt strangely resolved like you had served a divine purpose by receiving his cum so impossibly deep.
He pulled your body close by your bound wrists, his chest flush with your back, potting sweet kisses from your neck to your shoulder. It felt as if you could nearly be bound to his pelvis from how tightly you were wound around his shaft. A hand dragged down, letting your arms finally rest as he delicately caressed your breasts, your head falling back against the top of his chest.
“I think you may need a follow-up evaluation,” He cracked softly near your ear, “Your case is particularly serious.”
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devilsroost · 6 months
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You'd better give him what he wants.
...
He's basically a god. I
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thatstonedwriter · 5 months
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⋆。˚ 「 Domesticity 」 ⋆。˚
◉ Sinopsis; Stolas and his s/o spend a romantic morning together
◉ A/n- stay tuned for a little scenario at the bottom of this post. First time I'm combining headcanons and a short scenario, hope y'all enjoy <3
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── ˙•˚∘✮🌙ᯓ🪐˙•˚∘ ──
The sky brightens, light wafting through the curtains like a gentle wake up call. Beside you, Stolas stirs in his sleep, cooing and turning over. As wonderful as it would be to sleep in, its time to get ready for the day.
Stolas isn't a morning person. Unless he has appointment or meetings, he'll sleep in until the late morning. I mean- He's an owl demon, he's gonna prefer nighttime. Fortunately, you make mornings much more bearable.
If you're the type to stay in bed, Stolas takes full advantage. Half-awake, he'll leave light kisses on your cheek, neck, and arms, mumbling a small "good morning, darling"
He's also the type to playfully groan about having to get up. He pulls the blankets closer, damn near hiding under them, holding you close and making very persuasive points as to why you should just stay in bed with him.
If you prefer to get up and get an early start on the day, Stolas appreciates that too. He'll still whine about how he wants you to stay in bed, but won't keep you from doing your thing. He'll even make an effort to get up with you to maximize quality time together
It's been said Stolas doesn't know how to cook. And it's true, that's why people say it. If you also can't cook, y'all will settle for a simple breakfast- maybe going to a cafe or staying home with a bowl of cereal or a plate of pancakes
Ngl, I think Stolas would listen to podcasts or audio books in the morning. Listen; y'all are in the kitchen or bathroom, getting ready for the day, making your food- all while listening to a mystery novel or an astronomy podcast.
As small as the moments are, Stolas cherishes just standing in the bathroom getting ready for the day, consulting with you on what outfits y'all should wear, and taking turns in the shower. He's finally able to call this house a home because he gets to share it with you.
┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺  °
The bubbling sounds of the coffee maker and the sizzle of cooking pancakes fill the kitchen. Stolas walks in, groggily rubbing his eyes and padding over to you.
"Good morning, my love," he whispers, kissing the top of your head. Stolas rests his head atop yours, watching the pancake batter bubble on the pan. "The food smells delicious."
"Thanks," you chuckle, leaving th pancakes for a moment to pour a cup of coffee. "Careful, it's hot," you say, passing the mug to him. Stolas nods, kissing you once more and sipping the coffee.
"You can go ahead and sit down, the pancakes will be done soon."
Stolas smiles, leaning against the counter. "I can stay here. After all, why would I go all the way over there when you're right here?"
"Whatever you say, birdy," you laugh, turning your attention back to the pancakes.
The rest of the time passes in comfortable silence. Stolas watches you lovingly, thinking of how grateful he is to share these moments with you. This is the love he's has been waiting for.
── ˙•˚∘✮ 🔭๋࣭ᯓ🌙˙•˚∘ ──
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vcreatures · 5 months
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It’s been a while since I’ve touched base with the lords of the Ars Goetia. Today we meet Forneus, a Great Marquis of Hell. With 29 legions under his rule he is the teacher of rhetoric, languages and can sway any enemy to friend. 
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h-medicinalis · 5 months
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Tumpet. Bwaaaaah
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ozzgin · 7 months
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I was pondering on what horrors to write for Halloween and when I remembered how many times I’d hoped for Valak content…I ran and whipped out my Grimoire and started typing in delirious inspiration.
Yandere! Valak x Reader
Featuring the Infernal President and a blissfully unaware reader backpacking through Romania. Warning: NSFW, blasphemy, non-consent
[Horror Masterlist]
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“Mommy told me something
A little kid should know
It’s all about the Devil
And I’ve learned to hate him so
She said he causes trouble
When you let him in the room
He will never ever leave you
If your heart is filled with gloom”
"Now, you can't really say you've visited Romania until you see at least one monastery! Most Romanians are very religious, so churches and monasteries are popular attractions for tourists and locals alike." The tour guide is awfully enthusiastic for a cloudy Sunday morning. You nod politely and follow the group, although you can already feel yourself become distracted.
You're mostly interested in the old castles and bucolic hiking trails that Transylvania has to offer. Religious places...not so much. Alas, it's part of the experience. You check the flyer containing today's travel plans and google the location mentioned by the guide. Cârța Monastery. Seems to have some ruins included, and you'll be right on time for the Sunday chorus service, huh. Maybe that's why they picked today for a visit. 
You hurry along the cobblestone path until the first traces of a building come into view. Somehow you can't shake the feeling that something is off. You scan over the visible windows, wondering if someone is watching from above. Nothing. Once you lower your gaze again, you notice the tour guide vigorously waving his arm and encouraging you to enter the church with everyone else. You were at the very front of the group, so how long did you stare at walls? You flash an apologetic smile and rush inside. The wooden door closes with a grating creak and you fumble to the first available seat. There's a few coughs and shuffles and eventually the Liturgy begins. Your eyes wander until they find a clear window, so you entertain yourself with the sights outside. It's not like you understand the words of whatever is currently happening, and you're not religious to begin with. 
"How long is this going to take?" you groan internally and switch your focus to your hands, intertwined and resting in your lap. The monotonous chants cause your eyelids to feel heavy and they gradually lower themselves until all you see is black. It's okay, you're not sleeping. It's just a short nap, until...huh...the voices of the singing men diffuse as if distorted by distance and now everything is quiet. 
"Took you long enough." 
You jolt awake. You turn your head to check if whoever is sitting next to you has just spoken, but the room is suddenly empty. You jump from your seat and the thud of your feet hitting the stone floor creates a cavernous echo that sends a shiver down your spine. Ah, could it be that you're dreaming? The candles of the chandelier flicker, as if startled by a breeze, and abruptly go out. 
"I don't like waiting. Especially for mere humans like you."
The same voice as before reverberates through the chamber. It's deep and jarring, sounding almost unnatural. You don't like it. You tilt your head, afraid to find the source of speech but too curious nonetheless. It's a person dressed like a nun. For a brief second you relax your shoulders, assuming it's one of the people living here. But after one step ahead the figure becomes vaguely illuminated, and you can discern the features bearing on this creature's face. Blood drains from your face and you can feel the bile pooling at the back of your throat. A blasphemous deformity, oozing with blight and evil. From within the hollow, dark sockets, two yellow orbs glisten with raw malice. You realize you've held your breath until now as your lungs contract in a pitiful attempt to pump more oxygen. The movement brings back your senses and your flight instincts kick in. You immediately sprint for the door and use your elbow to slam it open, nearly collapsing to the ground. Your eyes squint under the flash of bright light. 
As you pant for air you notice you're back outside. There's people taking photos and talking cheerfully, and inside the church your group seems to have gathered before the iconostasis, listening attentively to a hearty discourse from your guide. The liturgy ended. What on Earth did you just witness? Before you can ponder the event, you feel a tug at your sleeve. It's an old lady, short and comically hunched. She's dressed all in black, with a head covering that hides most of her face, though you can still see the deep wrinkles that cross her features. 
"Oh? Sorry, I don't speak-"
"L-am văzut și eu. Diavolul, maică. Aici nu mai e demult casa Domnului. Pleacă cât mai poți, am să mă rog pentru tine." 
Her voice is shaky and she seems in distress. She strokes your arm once before limping away hastily. You blink and spend a moment trying to collect your thoughts. There's no one else nearby to ask for a translation, so you can only hope she finds help somewhere else. You return to the group and hope you won't have to deal with any other adventures. 
"This is the annex. You can still see some details in the arches." Your guide points around the pillars and mossy brick patches. You take out your phone for some photos and your arms tremble slightly. 
"It's suddenly very cold here, don't you think so?" you remark to your neighbor. 
"Really? I'm quite literally sweating right now" they respond, baffled.
"It's a shaded area, that's probably why."
"Or you're just that excited to see me again."
Your eyes widen. It's the voice. You blink, and you find yourself in the empty church once more. No, no, no, this isn't happening. No. You're dreaming. This is an absurdity. Some hallucination of sorts. You try the door handle, except this time it's locked. 
"It's not often I become interested in a mortal. In fact, this is the only time."
The nun is sitting on a bench, hands together in a praying motion. There's a mocking grin on its face. 
"Maddening, truly. Deplorable, disgraceful, outrageous. Humiliation would await me if they suspected my intentions with a perishable being like you."
"Who the hell are you?" you interrupt the erratic monologue. The nun stands up and locks eyes with you, instantly making you nauseous. 
"The Sixty-second Spirit, President Mighty and Great. His Office is to give True Answers of Hidden Treasures, and to tell where Serpents may be seen. The which he will bring unto the Exorciser without any Force or Strength being by him employed. He governeth 38 Legions of Spirits."
"What?"
"Valac." the creature extends a hand, as if expecting a handshake. "At least that's how they introduce me in the Lesser Key of Solomon." The fingers spread out and you feel a gravitational force pull you closer. It chuckles.
The cold fingers sink into your back and feel like claws digging your flesh. You let out a scream of protest and try to push away without success. It hurts. The touch burns your skin and spreads out like a wicked plague. What would this fiend even want from you? You search your mind for potential meanings and explanations. Truth be told, however, you're not well-versed in theological fantasies. 
"You can't just possess someone's body. I won't accept it. You don't have my permission."
The creature erupts in hysterical laughter and you feel your knees weaken at the sharp, grotesque teeth that creep their way out. Everything about it is vile, scandalous. Unholy.
"If you want to call it like that...Then sure. But for this kind of possession I don't need your input, I'm afraid."
Your limp body is picked up and sloppily thrown over the altar table. The impact of the hard surface against your stomach causes you to gasp. You try to turn your head and look behind, but the large, clawed hand locks around your neck and keeps you in place. You can only glance ahead. You can sense your garments being ripped apart with one swift move and shudder at the unexpected contact with the cold air on your bare body. The creature's other hand slides over your forms before stopping on your bottom, adjusting it. The realization sinks in and you begin to panic. Is this the time to say a prayer? You don't know any. 
"Our Father..." you mumble, trying to remember the continuation. 
"Go on. I'm sure He'd love to hear from you while you're being fucked on His altar. Send Him my regards."
He forces your hips upwards, exposing your intimacy. Without any further delay he thrusts his member in, painfully stretching your entrance around it. Tears well up in your eyes at the sudden discomfort. The iconostasis in front of you blurs and sways with each violent plunge into your frail body. 
"Oh, God" you sob.
"God ends here."
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ladymothbeth · 4 months
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°•៹ ࣪˖⁩ 💚 || What if Princess Moth suddenly found herself dancing with the Greediest Spider?
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
`Mammon and Beth 🕷️💸
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
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Their face literally like "😈" and "😳😨"
Honestly, when I saw Mammon I was thinking, "that would be a fun dynamic between him and a moth demon"!
Yk like irony? The fact is that spiders in nature are predators, and moths are their prey. So I feel like the dynamic between the greedy spider and Beth is kind of like a "cat-and-mouse-game", which is kinda funny--
(Plus, I need to know if there could be members of the Goetia family scattered across different rings of hell for a place to live 🤔)
And since Mammon’s canonical height was not mentioned anywhere, I took the size from his huge spider form. That is, if Asmodeus is about 13,1 ft (400 cm), taking into account the fact that he was standing on one knee, then Mammon turns out to be 11,5 ft (350 cm)
(My oc's height around is 8 ft (243 cm))
(‼I commissioned this art from another artist! Later I will draw my version‼)
I'll try to do more on these two! ;)
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chimeride · 23 days
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Vepar, the 241st Known One.
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acuteobserv4tion · 3 months
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Hold the phone.
Wait
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A god
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Damn
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Minute
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This.
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Bitch.
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Are they EX-SERAPHIM?!!!
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sophie-seokkie · 3 months
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Imagine that in the final battle against heaven, these four show up to defend hell.
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theres-a-body-here · 3 months
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Daemonology: Purson part 2
Male demon x Male!reader
Part one
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Three full moons had passed since your last encounter with Purson, and now your next evocation had arrived. To his surprise, rather than requesting another kiss, you asked to become his acolyte for the remainder of the lunar cycle.
Purson couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at your unexpected request. While serving as an a demon's acolyte might seem exciting at first glance, the reality was often mundane and tedious work.
Nevertheless, he agreed to your proposal.
Inside his study, Purson sat behind a massive desk designed to accommodate his towering stature. He pored over various temple proposals submitted by his devoted followers, occasionally mumbling to himself as he read through the documents. Meanwhile, you stood beside him, holding a large silver decanter filled with an herbal water meant to quench his thirst.
Though not particularly demanding work, it kept you close to him—close enough to observe the intricacies of his daily routine.
As Purson reviewed the documents before him, you couldn't help but admire his gold jewelry glinting in the candlelight, casting eerie shadows across his features. Every now and then, he would pause to dip his quill into an inkwell and jot down notes on parchment, lost in thought.
Purson reached for his golden goblet and tapped it with his clawed finger, signaling that he required a refill. Swiftly, you poured some herbal water from the decanter into his cup, watching intently as he brought it to his lips and took a long draught. His maw opens sightly with every gulp.
As he took a long swig of the drink, your gaze fell upon his imposing fangs—a sight that sent shivers down your spine, though not out of fear but arousal. With every swallow, you ogled the curve of his thick neck as it moved fluidly beneath his thick mane of fur.
After finishing his drink, Purson placed the empty cup aside and resumed reading through the proposals stacked before him. The silence in the room grew heavier with each passing minute, broken only by the scratching of quills on parchment and the occasional grumble from the demon King. Still, you didn't mind—simply being in his presence was reward enough for now.
After a while of meticulous note-taking and decision-making, Purson finally put down his quill and slouched back in his chair, running a hand over his face wearily. His fingers traced along his maw as he exhaled deeply, his red eyes betraying signs of exhaustion.
It seems even demons weren't immune to the boredom of office work.
You decide to break the awkward silence between you two. "Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?" you ask timidly, unsure if offering assistance would be welcome or unwelcome.
Purson lifted his head slowly, turning towards you with curiosity etched onto his bestial features. For a moment, he studied you with those piercing red eyes before responding. "Actually, yes," he said gruffly. "There is one thing."
He pointed towards a stack of scrolls lying nearby. "Perhaps you could organize these scrolls by date? They seem to be in quite a mess."
Delighted at having something to do besides standing idly by, you nod before getting to work sorting through the ancient parchments.
~~~~~~~
Your legs and back ached from standing for so long as you carefully sorted through the scrolls. If you had to guess, two hours have passed.
Nonetheless, you refused to complain or show any sign of discomfort; demonstrating weakness in front of Purson would not do.
Determined to prove your worth as an acolyte, you silently bore the pain in your back and continued arranging the parchments diligently.
Unfortunately, you failed to notice that you were unconsciously shifting your weight from foot to foot until it was too late. You cringe as you hear his writing abruptly stop.
"Is there a problem, little one?" he asked, his deep voice resonating like distant thunder rolling across the plains.
Swallowing hard, you shook your head and attempted to smile despite the throbbing pain in your lower back. "No, sir. Just stretching my legs a bit."
Silence fills the air, thickening like a suffocating smoke. You avoid his gaze as it burns through you. You feel your heart begin to race anxiously beneath your ribcage.
"Don't lie to me," Purson growls, his tone sharpening dangerously as his claws drummed against the wooden surface of his desk. "If something troubles you, speak up."
Trying to remain calm, you reply softly, "I apologize, sir. My back was hurting from standing so long."
Purson regards you silently for several moments before letting out a resigned sigh. Without warning, he scooted his chair backward with a loud creak of wood against the floor.
Your eyes snap open in alarm, anticipating his wrath — but instead of reprimanding you, he pats his lap invitingly. Confused but willing to trust him, you cautiously climbed onto his lap and settled into the crook of his powerful arms.
"Do not attempt to deceive me," Purson murmurs softly, his deep voice resonating through your core. "I am a demon of truth, after all."
Feeling sheepish, you nod quietly and burrow deeper into his embrace, embarrassed for being afraid.
Purson's strong arms wrapped around you, drawing you closer to his broad chest as he spoke softly. "Perhaps we both require a break."
Nodding, you leaned into his embrace gratefully, allowing yourself to relax against his massive frame. His warmth seeped into your bones, filling you with comfort.
Feeling bold, you decided to take things a step further—leaning your cheek against his furry chest and inhaling deeply. The musky scent of his coat filled your nostrils, making your heart flutter with excitement.
Chuckling softly, Purson commented, "My dear acolyte, you seem quite eager today."
Suddenly feeling self-conscious, you pull away from his chest and apologize hastily. "I-I'm sorry," you stammered, worried you may have crossed a line with your forward behavior.
Gently, Purson ran his claws over your back in a soothing manner. "I do not mind," he whispered reassuringly.
Seemingly lost in thought, he began stroking his chin contemplatively, as if remembering something.
Leaning closer, Purson's hot breath tickles your face as he whispers in a conspiratorial tone, "To be honest, little one, I have been thinking about your last evocation."
A shiver raced down your spine at his proximity, his words stirring feelings deep within you.
Purson's clawed hands rested on your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze while his sharp claws pricked your clothes. "If it had been anyone else," he said softly, "I wouldn't have indulged them. But you…you are truly devoted, aren't you?"
His crimson eyes gleamed with admiration as he regarded you fondly. "One of the most devout followers I've encountered."
Flustered by his compliment, heat rose to your cheeks as you tried to hide your embarrassment.
"And then you requested to become my acolyte," Purson continued with amusement in his voice, his hands wandering lower across your body. "That makes me think there is something more you seek beyond just a simple kiss."
Unable to gather the courage to confess your true intentions aloud, you remained silent while Purson considered his options thoughtfully.
At last, he spoke again: "Perhaps there's a way we can enjoy ourselves while working."
~~~~~~~~
Whimpering softly, you nestled against Purson's chest as he held you close, your back pressed firmly against his solid torso.
"Don't squirm so much, little one," he groaned softly into your ear as he struggled to maintain composure.
You could only whimper helplessly as his member throbbed within you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your hands trembled violently as you clutched the scrolls tightly, desperate to focus on your task.
Purson's hands roamed downwards to gently rub the bulging evidence of his impressive size pressing against your belly. "You don't have to work anymore," he assured you softly.
Obeying his command, you nodded and carefully placed the scrolls onto the desk, hands trembling.
Leaning back against his broad chest, you felt his cock pulsing steadily inside your body as he resumed his scribing duties. Occasionally, he would pause to plant a tender kiss upon your head, making your heart skip a beat every time.
As you writhed on his lap, your hard cock jerked excitedly with each subtle movement made by Purson. His powerful thighs spread wider apart, allowing you to sink even deeper onto his length.
"Lord Purson," you whined softly, unable to resist squirming on him as desire burned within you.
He released a ragged groan and held you still, fighting for control. "Please, little one, have patience. I'm almost done," he panted heavily.
Disappointed tears welled up in your eyes as you surrendered to his gentle restraint, feeling consumed by the heat spreading throughout your body. Inside you, his swollen cock throbbed relentlessly, filling you with a searing heat.
Eventually, Purson finished his task and set his quill aside. Grasping your hips firmly, he lifted you off his engorged length, causing both of you to moan as his slippery member slid free from your depths accompanied by a wet squelching sound.
Before you could react, Purson swiftly stood up and swept you off your feet, cradling you effortlessly in one arm while using the other hand to wrap your pants around his throbbing erection. With determined strides, he carried you out of his study and headed towards what appeared to be his bedroom chambers.
Silently, you laid limply his strong embrace as he strode down the hallways until reaching his chamber doors. As soon as they closed behind him, he laid you gently upon his massive bed, your body quivering with anticipation. Already, you could sense his rising heat thrumming through him like a storm about to break loose.
Without uttering a word, Purson began tugging at the hem of your shirt, prompting you to raise your arms above your head.
Once freed from its constraints, your pale skin was revealed, leaving him transfixed by the sight of your nakedness. His fingers twitched with eagerness as he took in the vision before him.
Inhaling deeply, Purson leaned closer to drink in your scent as his hands traced along your abdomen, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Though you heard a low rumbling purr emanating from deep within his chest, shyness kept you from commenting on it.
Instead, you focused on the sensation of his sharp claws gently scratching your sensitive skin.
Slowly, Purson traced a single line with his claw along the length of your neglected cock, eliciting a high-pitched whine from your lips.
"Such a good boy, aren't you?" Purson growled in satisfaction, his voice resonating like the thunderous roar of a stampeding herd.
Your head bobbed eagerly in agreement as Purson's clawed finger probed your mouth, tracing along your velvety tongue.
"Use your words, cub," he commanded in a husky whisper.
"Yes sir," you moaned submissively before his finger retracted from your mouth. Gripping your hips tightly, Purson pulled you closer until his engorged member pressed against yours, clearly showing that his size vastly surpassed yours in comparison.
His thick veiny length seemed ready to burst as precum oozed freely from the tip, dripping down into your pelvis.
Slowly, Purson rubbed his engorged cock against yours, causing you to whimper in excitement as your hands grasped the sheets tightly.
Without warning, he pushed the tip of his member into your quivering hole, causing you to gasp sharply at the sudden invasion. To provide some comfort, his hand reached out and wrapped around yours lovingly
As he pressed deeper, stretching you open further with every thrust, you couldn't help but let out muffled moans as you clasped your free hand over your mouth.
Gently prying your hand away from your mouth, Purson interlocked his fingers with yours and purred softly, "I want to hear you, little one." At that moment, he drove his cock deeper into you with a sharp thrust, eliciting a strangled cry from your lips.
Your fingers curled around his as you struggled to adjust to his massive girth stretching you apart. Yet despite the discomfort, a growing warmth spread throughout your core at feeling so filled by him.
Slowly but deliberately, Purson continued to thrust inside you, his pelvis smacking loudly against your bottom with each powerful stroke.
Clutching onto his toned arms, you held onto his fur for support as he relentlessly filled you up. Seeing you so needy, Purson increased his pace, driving himself deeper and harder into your body.
A deep groan escaped Purson's lips as he leaned closer, pressing his broad chest against yours while continuing his relentless assault on your entrance.
"Fuucghnn -" he caught himself just in time before he could swear. A demon as dignified as him shouldn't use such vocabulary. However, you made it difficult for him to maintain composure with your tight heat clenching around his cock.
Determined not to embarrass himself further, Purson claimed your mouth with his own in a fierce kiss, devouring it hungrily as if he were a ravenous lion feasting on its prey.
His tongue invaded your mouth, leaving you breathless and desperate for air. His claws dug into your shoulder blades, leaving red marks in their wake.
A shrill whine escaped your lips and Purson picked up his pace, causing him to bury himself deeper into you with each forceful thrust.
Lifting your hips higher with his legs, he angled himself perfectly to strike that sweet spot inside you, making your cock swing wildly with each impact. Precum splattered across your stomach and chest with each jarring slap.
Unlike Purson, you were only human.
You cried out in ecstasy as Purson continued his assault on your body. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" echoed through the room, reverberating off the walls.
"You shouldn't say such words," Purson admonished you playfully, his voice dripping with amusement before lowering his head to lap up the precum covering your trembling chest. The feel of his barbs dragging across your skin sent shivers coursing through your veins.
Eventually, unable to contain yourself any longer, you erupted in a torrent of hot seed that splashed across your trembling stomach as you let out a warbled sob.
Witnessing your release seemed to ignite something primal within Purson, forcing him to lift your ass higher and resume his relentless pounding with renewed vigor. His balls slapped loudly against your rear as he drove into you with unfettered abandon, cooing softly in your ear as he sought his own release.
"So good…so perfect…" he murmured between deep thrusts, his voice laced with satisfaction at witnessing your orgasm.
With a low groan, he buried himself fully within you one final time before emptying his load deep inside your quivering body.
Panting heavily, Purson collapsed beside you, his satisfied purrs resonating through your entire body. After withdrawing from your warm hole, he pulled you close for a tender embrace. He was purring loudly, your body shaking from it.
"Sleep now, little one," he whispered affectionately into your ear before nestling his face into the crook of your neck.
Exhaustion quickly overtook both of you as sleep descended upon you like a warm blanket, wrapping itself around your spent bodies.
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