Demon Twink — Chapter 4
Sam descends on the couple one last time in a fiery, explosive finale that will send us all straight to hell.
We have reached the end, dear friends!
This chapter is the darkest and cruelest yet. I hope you’ve enjoyed the ride. Writing this story has been an odd experience, a sort of channeling my greatest fears and insecurities and turning those into something erotic, raw, and wrong. I can’t say I understand some of these impulses within me, nor why I find them so erotic (perhaps I am a masochist!), but I hope some of you can enjoy the depravity along with me.
Now, have fun!
Without my direct influence, the healing begins.
It’s difficult at first. Cory is angry every day. The steroids do not help his temper, feeding his self-righteousness and keeping the flame of hatred alive for weeks after I’m gone. Even without me there to worship him, he injects, he lifts, he pumps iron until his body aches and his heart screams out for rest and maybe, just maybe, if he gets big enough, I will return to him.
I do not.
Tanner is patient with him. Part of it is the vow they made all those years ago, a vow to honor the other through thick and thin. Cory may have trampled all over it, but to Tanner, it is the guiding light that keeps him by his husband’s side. Through every slammed door and silent meal, Tanner holds onto the silent hope that the storm will pass and the man he fell in love with will return to him.
Slowly, bit by bit, the flame of resentment dies down. Cory no longer flinches under Tanner’s touch. The memory of my caress begins to fade. The taste of my lips and smell of my cunt seem further and further away. No longer does our lust block out the small, steady love for his husband that beats underneath.
He agrees to go to counseling. They work with a real sex therapist this time, a puny vegan man with frosted tips who specializes in working with infidelity. He helps Cory unpack the reasons why he strayed, the excuses he made and the promises he broke.
When Cory breaks down in tears one day, it is a breakthrough. He is so sorry. He is so fucking sorry. Tanner hugs him, holding his husband close to his chest as he sobs like a baby. They are going to make it through this. God help them, they will.
I watch it all from the shadows, every delicious minute of it. This is my favorite part, you see. The moment when the rat chews off its own leg and escapes from the trap, wounded but alive. Scurrying along the ground, seeking the safety of its den. Not knowing I’ve trapped it in a maze of my own design, drawing ever closer to its own destruction.
Cory and Tanner are healthier than they’ve ever been. Their marriage is strong, the sex is as wild and passionate as it was in the early days, and Cory has not had thoughts of straying in months. They can see the light at the end of the tunnel—they are going to be all right.
Until, one dark and stormy night, I glide across the floor, my form shrouded in shadow, and slither into the depths of Cory’s sleeping mind.
I find him encased in a memory. It is a happy one: he is dreaming of his wedding day. Tanner stands beside him at the altar, eyes filled with tears as he looks at his soon-to-be husband. Cory beams down at him with the hope of a man blissfully unaware of his own doom.
Silent as a rat, I sneak up behind the officiant and, with a flick of my claws, slit his throat. He clutches helplessly at his neck, but I’ve already cast him behind me, the sounds of his gurgling unnoticed by the happy couple.
If anyone has an objection as to why these two shall not be wed, speak now, or forever hold your peace.
Cory knows it’s me before he looks. He turns in slow horror, his eyes practically bulging from their sockets.
I am filled with glee.
“Hi, Cory. Miss me?”
“Noooooo,” he moans. “Not you. Please.”
“What’s the matter?” I step toward him, enjoying the way he quivers. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”
He closes his eyes. “Go away. I’m doing good. We’re doing good. I don’t want you.”
“But that’s not true, is it, Cory?” I run a finger along his cheek, making him tremble. “You do want me. You’ve always wanted me. Even before all this, before you really knew me. Your body knew I was out here somewhere, waiting to be claimed. Isn’t that right, pet?”
His eyes are still closed, but when I grab his jaw, he opens them. He is terrified, so terrified, but he wants me.
“All you have to do is take me, Cory,” I whisper. “I’m all yours.”
He tackles me to the ground, his body crushing me into the steps of the church where he said his vows. He stares into my eyes, searching for something, anything to excuse the desire burning through him. Then, finding nothing, he kisses me.
I snap my fingers.
Cory shoots up in bed, soaked with sweat.
“What the fuck?” he says, his breathing heavy and choppy.
He looks over at his husband, still asleep, none the wiser. His eyes flit over the dark corners of the room, but he cannot see me receding into the shadows.
The next morning, he makes an appointment with the vegan sex therapist for the first time in weeks. As it happens, the man has a cancellation just that afternoon. Can he do 12:30?
Cory shows up early. He sits in the waiting room, bouncing his leg, counting the seconds until he can throw himself at the mercy of a man he trusts, empty himself of the sinful thoughts he thought he’d buried for good.
A sudden knocking sound makes him look up.
What was that?
There it is again. And again. Unsteady, uneven knocks. Something banging carelessly against the wall.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
He gets to his feet, each step toward the door filling him more and more with dread.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
His hand is on the knob. He does not know what is on the other side, not for sure. But a part of him, that part he thought he’d buried, knows exactly what he will see.
He prays for the willingness to leave. He will find another therapist, seek counsel elsewhere, anything to avoid finding the source of that awful, horrible banging noise on the other side of that door.
He turns the knob and flings the door open. The vegan sex therapist is braced against the far wall, his pants around his ankles, his bare ass thrusting away like a madman.
“Oh, fuck… oh, Jesus… FUCK!”
He latches his mouth to his lover’s neck, sucking the tender flesh as he buries his cock in the warmest, tightest pleasure he’s ever known.
I hold his head to my neck, lock eyes with Cory, and wink. “Hi, baby. Miss me?”
He watches in frozen horror as the man who has earned his trust week after week violates the thing he thought he’d left behind forever. He sees me gripping the vegan’s ass, pressing him deeper into me. He hears my gleeful moans, the lilting giggles that escape my lips as I beg this nothing of a man to fuck me deeper, harder, faster.
Cory’s hands curl into fists. He is shaking now, the anger returning in a surge so violent I wonder briefly how far he will go to reclaim what’s his.
The vegan has not even noticed the interruption. I can hardly blame him.
“Your pussy is so sweet,” he groans.
Cory’s eyes are vengeful slits. In two strides, he is across the room, his hand on the vegan’s shoulder. He throws him off of me, sending him skittering across the ground, his cock flinging around his precum and my juices.
“What the FUCK!” he cries out.
Cory ignores him. Instead, he takes his rightful place, crushing me against the wall as his lips meet mine. His hands work quickly, releasing himself from his jeans and burying his tool in me to the hilt. I cry out in mock pain, egging him on. I whisper how I’ve missed him, beg him to show me how a real man fucks.
The vegan watches from his place on the ground, in awe of our sex, his cock still hard and dripping.
“Ugh… ugh.. ARGH!” Cory grunts. His hips smack against my taint, his fingers digging into my skin as he holds me off the ground and rapes my hole. “You’re fucking mine,” he growls, his forehead banging against mine, his eyes on fire.
“I’m yours,” I whisper, letting him conquer me.
“Mine… mine… MINE!”
Now he is the one making the banging noise, slamming our bodies against the wall in a frantic rhythm. He is an animal, a wild fucking animal, and the only thing that matters in this moment is reclaiming my body from the weak man who thought he could ever have me. He grunts, huffs, growls like a feral beast, until, with an anguished groan, he marks me as his at last.
From that moment on, it’s as if we never stopped. Cory comes to my place every evening after work, using my body like he’s afraid I will take it away again. Every night, when he’s finished taking his pleasure from my flesh, he holds me close and asks me to be his. He repeats his promise to take care of me, the childish fantasies he spins where we run off together to live in sin.
Each night I say the same thing.
Not yet, my love.
It doesn’t take long for Tanner to notice the change in his husband. At first, he tells himself that he is imagining things. Cory has been stressed at work lately. He is probably just tired; there’s no reason to jump to conclusions. They’ve been doing so well, he wouldn’t throw that all away. Would he?
But the suspicion persists. Promises to be home for dinner turn into stumbling into bed just before midnight. Mysterious bruises, scratches, and marks start to appear on his husband’s skin again. And the smell, that godforsaken smell that haunted him for months, clings to Cory’s clothes like sickness.
Tanner goes back to see the vegan. He seeks his counsel. Could Cory be cheating on him again? What should he do?
“I think you’re being paranoid,” says the vegan. “I’ve been seeing Cory once a week for the last month, and he’s doing great. Don’t mess up the progress you’ve been achieving.”
“I just can’t get rid of this voice in the back of my head that says something is wrong,” says Tanner. “It’s… it’s like this dark cloud. I can feel it moving closer, whenever I’m not looking, this subtle dread that something bad is going to happen. And I’m powerless to stop it.”
“Be careful,” the vegan warns. “These things have a way of becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you push him away… he very well may end up cheating because of it.”
In truth, he does see Cory once a week. My lover has agreed to share me for only an hour, a necessary evil to maintain his cover and continue gaslighting his husband. On Mondays at noon, I am laid out on the desk, receiving sacrament on both ends from my devoted acolytes. They cannot get enough of me, so sweet is the taste of my flesh.
“God, your mouth is so soft,” the vegan moans as he facefucks me.
“His cunt’s even better,” grunts Cory.
“I can see why you didn’t want to give this up. It’s fucking incredible.”
The sound of Cory clapping my cheeks mixes with his laughter. “So much better than Tanner.”
“I– ungh… can imagine.”
“He still suspicious?”
The vegan gasps as I massage his cockhead with my throat. “Oh fuck… No, I told him that all his suspicion is pushing you away… yeah, lick my balls… that you’re pulling away because you don’t feel safe with him… mmmmmmmm and he needs to look at his own behavior and deal with his– FUCK– insecurity…”
Cory laughs. “God, he’s so fucking stupid. I can’t believe he buys this shit.” He rubs his thumb over the head of my cock, swiping off my precum and relubing his dick before sinking in once more. “Not that I’m complaining…”
The vegan is too busy getting his balls gargled. “Ohhhhhh… that tongue… yeah, he believes whatever I tell him. Dumb little cuck.”
The men unload inside of me, laughing at their unbridled pleasure and Tanner’s gullibility. Then they douse me in their piss, boasting their masculinity and reveling in their role as conqueror. My corruption has so deeply rooted itself in both of them that their fate is unchangeable. I could end it all now, conclude my little soul experiment with flying colors, knowing they’re destined for the lake of fire like all my other pets—but there is SO much more to be done with Tanner.
The game isn’t over just yet.