Chapter Twenty-Eight
Mastyx
The room heats up as he manifests beside me. I don’t move, don’t open my eyes, don’t breathe.
I’m still on my stomach, facing away from him on my bed. The floor creaks, and his footsteps grow distant as he walks away from me and into the living room.
A few seconds later, a whooshing sound tells me he’s sucked out the soul of the Reaper on the altar, accepting my gift.
The room grows eerily quiet, and the heat on my back feels like the scorching sun reflecting off the ocean on a blazing day.
It’s almost unbearable to the point where if I were on the beach, I’d have to go inside or take cover under an umbrella to avoid sun poisoning.
Only this isn’t a poison affecting me, it’s Mastyx, crawling onto the end of the bed.
The heat from his body warms my feet, then my calves, and finally stops on my spine as he hovers over me.
My shoulders tense up as his claws graze my bare flesh and drag their way from my upper spine down to my ass, where he squeezes my cheeks tightly, crushing them in his grasp before gripping my thighs and violently yanking my legs apart.
“You’ve been a bad girl, my Little Sinner. ”
I gasp but don’t move. He hates it when I try to squirm away from him. And by bad, does he mean like what I did was naughty by leaving him such an extravagant display, or is he referring to letting another man taste me?
I pinch my eyes tightly closed, not wanting to see his face—not wanting to know if he’s speaking out of anger or lust. Although he wears the mask I bought for him, sometimes he keeps it off until he’s finished having his fill of me.
The wet lash of his long tongue whips my spine, and I recoil against its sting as he licks his way over my ass and thrusts it inside my pussy. I creep forward, my toes digging into the mattress, trying to escape the burning pain and pleasure of his tongue swirling inside me, holding in my screams.
He snatches my hips, his sharp claws hooking into my skin and his hands scorching my flesh like leather seats on a hot summer day as he removes his tongue and says, “Keep still, my Little Sinner.” His booming voice sends chills down my spine and tremors through my core.
I bite my pillow as he rams his tongue back inside me, slurping and licking every inch of my insides that he can reach.
He lifts my bottom off the bed and slowly pulls his tongue out of me as he shifts me upright, my spine against his chest, his hot cock pressing into the space between my legs, and murmurs in my ear, the heat from his breath like a furnace firing for the first time.
“You’re so fucking delicious. I could eat you every day for the rest of eternity and still feel famished. ”
My throat closes as he wraps his tongue around my neck, holding it firmly, and my pussy pulses with anticipation, dripping wet and ready for him. I gasp for air as he rams his hot cock inside me, sending my body upward like a fire was just lit beneath me.
I don’t know how to describe how he feels inside me.
If I tried, I’d say it would be a cross between orgasming and having your clit tattooed while getting railed by the best dick of your life.
It’s excruciatingly pleasurable in a vicious sort of way.
I’ve grown accustomed to what to expect from him.
Sometimes he’s gentle, warm, loving and soft, kneading my body with his heat and pleasuring me for me.
Other times, like this, when I’ve gone too far sexually with my sacrifice, he gets jealous, territorial, visceral.
He doesn’t like it when I share my juices with anyone else; they are for him and him alone.
I knew that before I sat on the Reaper’s face, but in the moment, I didn’t care.
Now, as my head grows dizzy, and I feel my strength fading, a wave of regret washes over me.
I relax my body, forcing him to hold me upright as he spills his hot lava inside me, coating my interior walls and singeing my tender lining with his soft flame, making it too painful to allow anything or anyone else to enter or touch it, even me.
He releases me onto the bed; my body thoroughly soaked in sweat from his touch.
I lie there, gulping precious air as his tongue recoils away from me.
“You’ve been a naughty little freak.” His tongue lashes hard against my ass like a whip, tearing my skin.
Something wet trickles down the side of my ass cheek, and he swipes it with a clawed nail.
He flips me over with both hands in one quick movement, so fast and sudden, my eyes flash open and lock in on his face as he straddles my thighs.
He’s wearing the white death plague mask, his fiery eyes flaming with desire through it. His tongue slides out of the bottom of the half mask’s narrow nose and extends to his long, pointed fingernail to lick the crimson from it.
My crimson.
I scan his muscular chest, so perfect, so flawless, and dig my nails into it, raking them down the front of him.
He hisses as the wounds rip open and black fluid pours down the front of him, dripping on my stomach like melted onyx wax, setting my blood on fire with desire.
He chuckles as the wounds close on their own and return to perfection.
“Silly Little Sinner, you know you can’t hurt me,” he says as he rests the full weight of himself on top of me and heats his body to a barely tolerable burn. “But I can hurt you—kill you even.”
I flicker my long lashes at him, staring right into his flaming eyes as I say, “But you won’t, my love.”
He huffs through his nostrils like an angry bull and runs his claws through my hair before wrapping it tightly around his fingers and holding my head firm. Using his free hand, he slides the mask off. I shut my eyes, not wanting to remember how he looks in his true form.
“Open your eyes,” he orders.
I peel them open, and my breath quickens as his skeleton-like face stares back at me with red, bloodshot eyes, fire retreating behind them. “Kiss me, my Little Sinner. Not the masked man. Kiss me.”
I steady my breathing, remembering how he makes me feel ninety percent of the time.
This is my punishment for allowing my juices to flow into the Reaper’s palate.
I close my eyes and open my mouth, letting his massive tongue slither inside.
I try to push his tongue back, keeping it from blocking my airway, but he wraps it around mine like he’s twisting a cherry stem, holding it as it heats up, scorching the inside of my mouth.
I scream inside my throat and buck beneath him, slapping and clawing his chest. He unwraps his tongue from mine, backs away from me, and stands.
I can’t move. I mean, my eyes can, but that’s it. I can barely talk or think. Every muscle in my body feels weighed down by some unseen force. It’s like he’s injected me with a paralytic.
He disappears, leaving me spread-eagled on the bed, helpless and unable to defend myself.
Seconds later, he returns, the grisly skeleton face gone and now resembling the man I just killed, stealing his likeness to make me more comfortable.
With his body fully human now, he climbs back on the bed and kisses each of my breasts with tender lips, releasing me from my state of stasis.
Every inch of me is on fire, burning like a blistering sunburn as he holds a bottle of green gel he grabbed from my refrigerator in one hand and squirts a large amount on my chest. It startles me with its cold as he rubs it gently across my skin, massaging my burns and blisters.
He moans, his human cock rising, coming to life as he becomes aroused once more.
“Oh, my Little Sinner, look what you do to me.” I reach for his shaft, and he drops the aloe gel and grabs my wrists, forcing them above my head.
His knee wedges between my legs, separating them quickly as he positions himself to enter me once more.
“I’ll be gentle,” he whispers as he grabs the aloe gel, squirts it the length of his shaft, and slides it inside me.
A squeak escapes me, and I reflexively move away from his cock as the slow rhythm and chill of the aloe does little to kill the pain of the internal burns.
He reaches beneath me with both hands, holding me tight against him, forcing himself further inside me and keeping me from pulling away again.
I groan softly, starting to enjoy myself, when suddenly he stops and peers down at me. “Is this what you like?”
I nod my head, not thinking about the repercussions of enjoying him in human form—enjoying the memory of the Reaper inside me, tasting me.
His eyes turn black, and his human cock pulls back slightly as he roars, “Then let me give it to you as you deserve, my little whore.”
Pain floods through me, shooting daggers into my abdomen as he forces himself hard and fast inside me.
I grip the comforter beneath me, my heels digging into the mattress as I move my body back and away from him.
He grips my shoulders, pulling me back to him as he rams me hard, too hard.
Nausea creeps into my throat, and a sharp but brief pound from his cock makes me cry out for him to stop as he strikes my pubic bone, sending a crushing pain through it.
He stops. Without hesitation. Without a word. Without asking why. He knows my limits. If I tell him to stop, he knows I’ve had enough of this torturous game we play.
His eyes dart to mine. “You’re mine and so is this.” He grabs my pussy lips tight, crushing them in his grip. I wince as he glares at me. “Every ounce of your juices belongs to me, Little Sinner. Don’t forget your place.”
I nod, and he unfurls his clenched fingers from my pussy lips, letting the blood flow return to them.
My punishment could have been so much worse, but the benefits of our relationship outweigh the sin I’ve committed in his eyes.
He needs me, despite it all. I’m more of a benefit to him alive than in hell.
“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again, “ I say with a coy smile.
His eyes scan mine briefly before asking, “Would you like your treat, my love?”
I close my eyes, breathing heavily, trying to regain my composure. Everything inside and outside of me hurts. I want to crawl beneath my covers, curl up into a fetal position and sleep for a few days. Being the submissive of a sadistic incubus is exhausting, painful and intoxicating.
It’s not like I don’t deserve the punishment for what I did…
what I’ve done. That’s what brought him to me in the first place.
Similar to the accident I caused, it felt great at the time, but the consequences after are like a recurring, torturous nightmare—the headaches, painful scar, and memories of that night, coupled with the searing burns of his touch and desire for me, blur everything together and somehow make me feel a small amount of absolution.
The sad thing is, I love it. I love the way he hurts me and cares for me when it’s over.
I love the way the pain brings me right back to the moment he sends an orgasm racing out of me.
And although he terrifies me and I know at any moment he could decide to take me to hell for my sins, where I truly belong, I find it worth it to feel again, if only for a short while.
I clear my mind, wipe the moisture from my head, and force a smile, stretching beneath him, tucking my hands under my pillow with a satisfied grin. “Yes, please.”
He kisses my abdomen, and the bed rises as he climbs off and saunters away, the tight ass of the Reaper looking back at me.
Too bad Mastyx couldn’t keep the body of anyone I offered him forever.
He returns seconds later, sucking on a red, white, and blue Bomb Pop from my freezer, melting it partway. “Open wide, my love.”
I spread my legs as he kneels on the bed and slides the popsicle inside me, moving it in and out of my traumatized pussy.
I groan and rub my clit as he swirls it around and around, inside and outside of me, before plunging it back inside his mouth.
“Mmm…it tastes so much better with you coating it.”
He pushes it back inside me. “Now for the trick to your treat…making it disappear.” I giggle as he uses his thumb to push the popsicle off the end of the stick, and it vanishes inside me.
He tosses the wooden stick over his shoulder, spreads my lips apart with both hands, and dives between my legs, searching for the patriotic pussy pop that’s already melted into me.
I grip his bald head, wrap my legs around his back, and dig my heels into him, closing my eyes as I fall into the abyss of euphoria that only Mastyx can provide.