Stolen Pleasures - 2. Chapter 2

Jahke yawned like a lion, his jaw creaking as he stretched. He was warm, the bed was soft, and the sleep in the back of Jahke’s mind saw no reason for him to get up yet. It caught his will and dragged him back under quickly.

He was sitting in the wing chair in the library, dreaming of the book in his lap, the lost soldier and his new werewolf companion frolicking in the woods. Jahke grinned, satisfied and sated, the languid heat between his legs spreading through him. Something dark flashed across his vision, fire and smoke. Reality pulled at Jahke’s mind but sleep was stronger. The floor of the library was twigs and grass, he was in the woods. Jahke peered around a tree and bit back laughter to see the muscled soldier on his hands and knees. The wolf nuzzled at his rear, the long muzzle and clever tongue eliciting cries of pleasure. Jahke went to undo his trousers only to find that he wasn’t wearing any. Reality tugged again and this time Jahke opened sky blue eyes and reality jolted him to full wakefulness.

He lay on a soft bed of furs, covered in a woven blanket of raw felted wool and stared at a low rough stone ceiling. Jahke sat up and looked around the room. Apart from the bed, which was oval rather than square, there was a long low couch like a chaise-lounge, two wooden chairs and a small thick wooden table. There was nothing else but a single door and sconces holding candles along all the walls. Jahke drew the blanket around his naked form and began to panic. His memory scrolled backwards and the vision of Sitka’s eyes, that black onyx, hands wrapped around his naked, raped, exhausted body as he was lifted. After that last drop of compulsion there was nothing, he remembered nothing.

While Jahke sat and pondered his situation the door opened with a low noise of stone and stone and an all too strange and familiar figure stepped into the room. Now that Jahke could see him in the candle light he focused on the vision of the demon before him. Sitka’s skin was black as pitch and his face was shaped onto a squarish short muzzle, teeth sharp and pointed and angular features with high cheek bones. His hair around the great curved horns was black, thick with a soft wave fell to his strong rounded shoulders. He was bare chested and the candle light played off his fine deep muscled chest. The swing of the heavy lion cloth fastened with thick leather belts and buckles fell from his hips between his legs. Legs which were long, strong, finely muscled, oddly jointed to end in paws again with the short, sharp nails which had left puncture marks in Jahke’s pale skin.

Jahke shivered but the onyx eyes ignored him and Sitka began to unwind the cloth strips from around his arms.

“Did you sleep well?” the gravel and iron filings voice made Jahke’s teeth chatter and he worked his way across the bed to the far side, his back against the cold stone wall.

“W-where am I?” Jahke clutched at the blanket around him and watched as Sitka laid the strips of clothes over the wooden chair that held his cloak. He began to unbuckle the belts that held the loin cloth in place and repeated his first question.

“Please sir,” Jahke’s voice shook, and his new wounds scraped against the rough stone of the wall, “Please let me go.”

“No,” Sitka’s voice was heavy, “You can’t you back little one.”

“Where is this?” Jahke’s eyes were fixed on the now naked form of the horned demon, his throat remember the uniquely twisted ridged shape, the firmness of that near-keratin sheath. Jahke was horrified to find his libido hardening his own penis despite his fear, “Where am I?”

“Home,” Sitka replied, “This is your room, well it used to be my room…”

“What are you?”

Sitka shrugged, and the movement of his muscles caused inspiring things to happen to Jahke’s anatomy.

“A demon. We’re not in England anymore, you might have guessed that.”

“Oh god…” Jahke tried to stand, pushing himself away from the wall, tripped and fell from the bed. Sitka moved across the room with swift footsteps and caught his head before it hit the floor. “Thank you,” it was an automatic reaction and Jahke smiled as he sat up. The demon smiled back at him, and there was something like warmth in his eyes when Jahke met them. He still shook with fear when the demon touched him, but he could control it enough not to try and run away. Sitka cradled the back of his head in one huge hand, strong fingers in his hair and send a wave of warm compulsion through him. Jahke tilted his face towards the demon and responded when he was kissed.

Sitka tasted of smoke and wood chips and peat and his mouth was hot and hungry on Jahke’s own. The boy kissed him as though his life depended on it, hands snaking around the defined muscles of Sitka’s torso and clinging on as their kiss deepened. Jahke’s throat was sore from the rape but the pain was overridden by the demon’s power of compulsion. The desire to do what the demon wanted, to be supple and compliant, was enough to keep him locked together with the demon as the horned figure scooped him up, mouths still tasting each other, tongues combined, while Sitka laid him out on the bed. A wave of one hand was enough to dim the candles so that the room was lit only with a soft glow, but when the kiss broke, Jahke’s eyes again lit up as the compulsion lost the war with his self-awareness.

Jahke struggled, but he was held by the weight of Sitka above him, the demon’s hands pinning his arms to his sides. Sitka kissed his neck and Jahke tried to twist away. The long slow draw of Sitka’s rough tongue on his neck petrified and fascinated him and the sink of sharp fangs into his flesh was painful and weirdly delightful. Sitka groaned at the flood of hot sweet blood in his mouth and drank greedily as Jahke moaned in pain.

“Please…” Jahke prayed that begging would work, “Please don’t… not again, I don’t…please don’t do this.”

Sitka lapped up the blood that seeped from Jahke’s new wound and grinned. He let go of Jahke’s arm and wrapped his fingers around the boy’s stiffening cock.

“No…” Jahke sobbed, “No don’t…” But it was too late as Sitka half growled his appreciation for Jahke’s smooth shaft, the high tight balls beneath. And Jahke could feel the weight and heat of Sitka’s own ridged shaft, the rounded tip nudged against his balls, seeking out the heat of him. Jahke reached out to push the demon away and his hand closed on the thick ridged horns that curled either side of the demons head, the keratin shaft as thick as he wrist near the base. He tried to pull the demon away from him but only succeeded in lifting his head from his throat.

“Well then, if you like…” Sitka grinned and shifted his weight lower and Jahke suddenly realised how it might look. He shouted no, and then groaned at the demon’s mouth closed around his cock. Now he held tight to Sitka’s horns as the demon grazed him with sharp teeth, swallowing him down. Jahke groaned, his back arching off the bed, allowing the demon to take everything he had. Short clawed fingers raked down his sides, cupped the rounds of his arse as the demon pulled his hips ever closer. Jahke wanted to struggle, he wanted to resist, wanted it to be compulsion that made this feel so good, and he knew it wasn’t.

Sitka’s rough tongue and smooth throat closed around him and Jahke shuddered and screamed as, gripping the demon’s horns, he came with a violent thrust. Sitka drank him down without even a pause and leant up grinning like a Cheshire cat. Jahke’s pupils were huge, blown by the force of his orgasm, and now that he was spent he was wary of the hot lust in the demon’s black eyes.

“I-I-I-I’m scared…”

Sitka smiled at him.

“You don’t need to be scared,” he placed a hand over the side of Jahke’s face, holding him from jaw to hairline, “Do you want to be scared?”

Jahke shook all over, but shook his head.

“No…” his voice quavered and a moment later the demon poured a hot dose of compulsion down his throat. It was like a drug, soothing the raw angry parts of his civilised mind, letting him give himself over to the wants of his body.

Sitka rolled him over as Jahke pushed his round butt up towards the demon’s waiting mouth as Sitka pulled his knees apart. The hot tongue explored him, soothing the burns from the first time, the soreness, and exciting pleasure from his throat. Jahke pillowed his head on his arms and moaned as Sitka’s mouth caressed him. Then it was gone and Jahke moaned wantonly. Sitka slicked his fingers with saliva and ringed the boy’s tender hole before pushing in two digits. The entrance stretched to allow him and Sitka sighed in pleasure and the deep heat and constricting tightness around him as he added another finger, feeling for the place inside the boy that would make him squirm. Pain threatened to break Jahke’s compliance and Sitka fed him a smaller dose of the magic which made the boy push back against his hand and groan in wanting.

The demon withdrew his fingers and Jahke gasped at the sudden emptiness he felt. Now that compulsion crushed his fear he wriggled against Sitka, wanting more. The demon regarded his prize with a satisfied grin, hungry for his own pleasure. He flipped the boy over and hooked his hands under the boy’s knees, hauling him into his own lap. With one hand he stroked the smooth pink shaft of the boy’s cock and then touched the rounded tip of his own dark erection to the damp pucker of Jahke’s entrance. He remembered that sweetness, the hot tautness of the boy clamped around him and could make him wait no longer.

He pushed in the head of his cock and growled with pleasure at Jahke’s high pitched moan. Each twisted ridge of his shaft brought forth another cry of pleasure mixed with pain until he was in up to the hilt, buried within the heat of the boy. Jahke clutched at his demon captor and nearly snarled for more. The compulsion was fading but pleasure replaced it, rocking through the pair as Sitka withdrew each ridge and slammed into the boy again.

Jahke felt himself ripped open by the twisted shaft which plunged into his tender arsehole, gave himself into the hot pleasure that tore through him, made him cry out and reach for the well-defined shape of Sitka’s muscled arms and chest. His own short blunt nails left dented half-moons in the black skin and Sitka drew blood where he gripped the boys thighs. Jahke could only toss his head and scream, the protest of his muscles and the stretched soreness of his entrance were nothing compared to the fierce pleasure that ran through him, making him thrust back against the demon who impaled him and arch his back from the bed of furs as he spilled hot white cum over his chest and abdomen, taut with the effort of their writhing’s.

Sitka lowered his horned head and licked a trail of cum from the boy, drinking down the sweetness of him and the sight gave Jahke shudders at the delight in the demon’s dark eyes. Sitka thrust into the boy as the passage of him closed around his ridged cock and snarled as he came. Jahke cried out and pulled at his hair, unable to process the waves of flooding pleasure that tore through him mixing with the shame of his lust and wanton desire now that he was spent. The demon leant over him and sank his fists into the furs either side of Jahke’s head and panted, sweat beading on his dark skin, muzzle split in a grin.

Jahke gasped as each ridge of Sitka’s slackened but still sizeable penis eased from him and groaned at the feeling of stretched emptiness left behind. The demon collapsed on the bed next to him, leaning on one elbow, hand cradling his skull at the base of his horn and smiled lazily. Jahke let his knees fall back to the bed and inhaled deeply. He turned to look at the demon next to him. He was, oddly, not repulsed by the demon; but why would he be? Sitka had the sort of muscle definition that sportsmen worked for and despite the muzzle could be considered handsome if you went for that dark and broody sort of look. Jahke reached out and wrapped a lock of Sitka’s hair around his fingers, tugging experimentally.

“Yes. I am real.”

“I’d worked that out,” Jahke shifted his weight and winced at the pain between his legs, “That hurts.”

“Sorry.”

“You’re not sorry.”

“No, not really.” Sitka smiled and rolled onto his back, sleeping on one side of your head with horns like that would have been painful. One arm came to curl around Jahke but the boy had sat up.

Jahke was mortified. What was he doing? Lying in bed with a demon and enjoying pillow talk. How could he not be disgusted with himself? He’d been raped, kidnapped, and, well, sort of raped again. How could he possibly be happy? The sensibilities crept back in and Jahke lurched out of bed and bolted for the door. Semen dripped down his inner thighs and was crusted on his abdomen but he didn’t care. The door opened up onto some sort of passageway with plush red carpets and the same rough walls with candles and Jahke dashed down it as quick as he could manage.

He heard Sitka behind him and crashed into the next doorway. It turned out to be a bathroom, tiled in white, with a big sink like you found in old fashioned kitchens, a fairly ordinary looking toilet and a bath like a small swimming pool. The bath-pool was full and standing at the sink was Shindae, the fire demon from the library. He grinned when he saw Jahke.

“Hey little boy.”

Jahke screamed, span on his heel, tripped, wincing in pain and slipped over on the wet tile as Shindae took a step towards him on cloven hooves. Sitka arrived in the door, naked, and looking slightly panicked. Jahke didn’t know demons could panic, it should have been reassuring. It wasn’t. Jahke slid back, trying to scramble away from the big horned demon who approached him in the way that one walked up to a nervous dog. Jahke was about to make a yell for help when he fell backwards into the bath-pool. He surfaced with a yelp, a bit too low and swallowed a lungful of water then came back up spluttering. He thrashed in the water as Sitka dropped into the pool beside him, gathered him up and held him until he stopped struggling.

“Calm down…” the demon iron fillings vice was far from soothing but it came with a dose of compliancy that made Jahke go nearly limp. The demon checked him over for damage, cradled that back of his head too feel for bumps but Jahke had miraculously avoided hurting himself.

“What happened?” Shindae was crouched by the side of the pool, thin, flat face concerned for his friend.

“I don’t know,” Sitka grabbed the soap and began to wash them both down, since they were wet anyway, “We were in bed, chatting, he seemed fine and then suddenly this. It didn’t have anything to do with a lack of compulsion before you use that as your opening gambit.”

Shindae threw up his clawed hands.

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Yeah, sure.” Sitka’s voice was low, “Look, pass me that towel would you.”

He hauled Jahke unresistingly from the bath and wrapped the towel around the motionless but shivering boy. He shook himself like a dog, wrapped a towel around his hips and gathered Jahke to him.

“Hey pretty one, come out of there would you. Come on.” Jahke shook his head meekly, but he clung to Sitka like a leaf in the wind. “Bugger off Shindae.”

“Well excuse me, it was going to be my bath.” Shindae sulked, but turned on one hoof and left them alone in the bathroom.

“Talk to me.”

“I’m scared.” Jahke was crying, hot wet tears spilled over his cheeks. He shivered against Sitka’s enormous sculpted chest. He didn’t want to pull away, but something that was not subject to his will made him want to run and hide. He clung on to Sitka, telling himself it was compulsion that made him stay.

“I know little one. But I’m not going to hurt you.” Sitka run his fingers through the boy’s wet hair, “No one else is going to hurt you either, I won’t let them.”

Jahke was still crying.

“But…before, in the library.”

Sitka felt a hot flush of guilt.

“I-We…It was just a bit of fun. I didn’t know you would be so…that…” Sitka sighed deeply, “I didn’t know I was going to want to keep you.”

“I want to like it here, but I don’t.”

“You will.” Sitka stroked his head, “Do you want to go back to the room?”

Jahke nodded, grabbed Sitka’s hand as it stroked his hair, his eyes wide and paralytically frightened and the demon obligingly poured liquid compulsion through him until the boy’s eyes unfocused very slightly. Sitka scooped him up and carried him back to the bedroom. He lay the boy on the furs, covered him with the blanket then wrapped himself in the driest of the two towels and then wrapped himself around the boy. He waved a hand at the candles, leaving only one alight on the far side of the room. Sitka wedged a roll of fur under his neck to get slightly comfortable lying on his side and held tight to the boy as he drifted asleep.