Memories Ch. 01bykatzen©
The question they would ask, Arawn realized, wasn’t why he had gone so far, but why hadn’t he gone farther.
The hot water beat into his head and shoulders, pulling his black hair away from his face, coursing over muscles that were long and lean, skin that was fine and pale. He hadn’t bothered to turn on the light, leaving his smile to go unseen as he remembered all he had done that night.
The streets had been packed; the bodies that forced past him were made heady, hypnotic. The night and the neon turned the crowds into flashes of people, mixed into color, smeared with motion, transparent and gaudy. Every person moved unconsciously to the beat of the music that spilled from open doors, their laughter and screams a perfect counterpoint, their smiles merely another source of light. He walked then among them, his eyes wide, a smile forever on his lips, a point of stability in the chaos of the crowd, a coolness among the heat.
Arawn could smell them, the ones who noticed him, smell their fear and their excitement. His hair hung in long curls, collecting occasionally in front of his face until the wind blew them back again. His face was fine featured, his eyes too dark, his mouth too full, but it was the sense of what was behind it that he fed on, that called them. There was danger there, too close to the surface to be ignored, too hidden to be truly marked. He was every rape fantasy, every smooth talking rogue, every desire to be dominated that lurked in the hearts and minds of women and men, secret and semi-secret dreams that were hauled out only when the night was very, very old to be examined and caressed and carefully placed back before the sun rose again.
There were those foolish enough to mistake him for an incubus.
From time to time, he simply stood and watched them, choosing not to be seen, his eyes narrow and his smile too broad. He could afford to be selective each night, though, if he were lucky, he would get more than one choice.
It was in a moment of stillness that a whiff of laughter caught his ear and he moved back into the crowd, watching for it, following it. His hunt took him into a nearby club where the music was loud enough to throb through the body and upset the heart’s beat. Still, he caught the laugh again as the bouncers hurried him through, instinctively, unconsciously limiting his time near them.
The club was a riot of music and sweat, bodies and voices all thrumming together as he slowly became a part of this place. Eyes never met his, but he could feel them trace his body, gazes plucking at the silk of his shirt and the darkness of his pants. The laughter echoed through his mind again and a flash of white seemed to sparkle across the floor, luring him closer, until he could see what so many others were staring at.
She wore a mockery of a bridal veil over her blonde hair, it’s netting tousled by the night’s wind, the hair glowing under the lights. Her white skirt was too short for her comfort as she tried to tug it into place, its leather barely showing under the voluminous white t-shirt she wore over it. He drew nearer and he could see the shirt was studded with candies, marks showing where some had been removed, a man leaning in at that moment. The mock bride woman pulled the shirt away from her body, holding it taut, and the man pulled a candy free with his teeth, making lurid sucking noises and leaving a damp stain as he waggled his eyebrows at her lewdly. Arawn drew closer still, headed for the bride, but was assaulted by a woman with hair dyed too black for her skin, her voice a raspy screech in his ear.
“It’s a dollar to get a candy, it’s her vibrator fund, for when married life gets too dull!” A chorus of cackles arose around him.
Arawn flicked a bill into being, waving it at the black-headed girl without looking, not caring what denomination he chose. His eyes were locked with the bride-to-be’s and she reddened and glanced down. Her hands shaking, she pulled the shirt tight, blushing furiously all the while. Arawn smiled again and leaned in, pushing the material slightly, choosing his candy well, managing to barely graze her nipple with his teeth while never loosing eye contact. She jumped, her lips parting with a gasp, and blushed even farther.
He crunched down and the candy exploded, sickeningly sweet against his tongue, but still he smiled, a small, secret smile that reached into her. She smiled back as he gently took her hand and raised it to his lips. His kiss burned on her skin long after he turned and left, never quite disappearing into the crowd.
He could feel her eyes on him even from the bar, where he drank drinks he never paid for and didn’t taste. He caught her gaze from time to time, a slow grin forming each time she blushed and looked away. He could still catch a touch of the sweetness of the candy, the saltiness of her skin, and he used it to keep himself focused, to keep himself more aware of her than she was of herself.
Finally, he turned to leave, and pleasure grew as he felt her watching, her half-excuses, her pleas for some alone time echoing through the club to his ears. She was following, then, he mused, his joy becoming more evident, the gleam in his eye causing the people around him to back away. She was following.
He waited for her just outside the door, but refused to let her catch up. Instead, he headed around the building for the alley, where the music faded, the lights died, and the night was strongest. Her uncertain footsteps echoed behind him, her high heels slipping on loose stones and garbage. Still, he walked, taking his time, keeping her with him.
When Arawn judged himself far enough back, he stopped and watched her come, chuckling at her difficulties as her eyes struggled with the darkness. She was almost on top of him before she saw him and as her mouth opened in a gasp of surprise, he simply pulled her into his arms and crushed her with a kiss.
At first, she struggled, his lips hot against hers, his tongue insistent, until with a low moan, she accepted his embrace and fell into him, her arms sliding around his back, her eyes closing, her tongue sliding in to meet his. His lips left her mouth, fluttering over her face, sucking at her neck, his breath winding into her ear and teasing the small hairs that grew at the base of her skull. She moaned again and pushed against him, eyes fluttering at the feel of his hardness against her belly.
He leaned her back, his hand forced against the small of her spine, and assaulted her breasts, nibbling lightly at her nipples through the thin cotton of her t-shirt, sucking on the flesh, his other hand ripping open the front clasp of her bra before finally raising her shirt above her head. He pulled it back around her, trapping her arms and drew himself up to stare at her. Her eyes were still closed, her lips parted, her milky cheeks suffused with a reddish glow. Her breasts stood up proudly as the wind rushed past the smears of saliva he had left behind, her nipples tightening, aching as they pushed forward.
He laughed at that, a low chuckle, and her eyes fluttered open, lust overwhelming the tinge of fear she felt as she realized she couldn’t move her arms. He dove in again and she almost screamed as his teeth closed on the soft flesh near her cleavage, marking her as he sucked her blood to the surface to form a bruise. Then he was at her nipples again, so delicate and light she could barely feel him, making her writhe in his grasp, her eyes fluttering closed again.
He tormented her for what felt like an eternity, rough and bruising one moment, so soft the next she almost cried. Her orgasm crested then waned, her frustration growing with every moment; until she was soaked in sweat and her breasts were covered in garish bruises.
“What do you want?” it was the first time she had heard his voice and his words seemed to swim in her head, washing out the alarm bells that his tone set off in her.
“What do you want,” he asked again, patient, firm, his tongue moving to tease the tips of her nipples.
“I...” she tried to catch her breathe, to settle her mind, but it was impossible with all the sensation and the words boiled out from somewhere deep inside, “I...I want you.”
She swallowed hard, unable to truly think and he simply stopped. He let her arms go, dropped her t-shirt to the filthy ground, and stepped away.
She staggered as his physical hold on her ended, her pupils swollen, her voice a cracked whisper.
“Please what?” he was mocking her, but she didn’t care.
“Fuck me,” the words were tortured, her arms reaching for him.
He laughed again and leaned back against the wall, the sound of his zipper echoing in the relative silence of the alley, “Show me you want me. You were so hesitant before, prove to me that you’ll do anything to have me.”
She moved slowly forward, staring at the whiteness of his skin against the black of his pants, her throat moving convulsively, “I’ve never...”
“Shhh... you’ll be fine,” he guided her to her knees, laying his hand softly on the veil, “You’ll be wonderful.”
Her hand reached in to fish him out, surprise at the size of him stamped across her lust-drunk face, her eyes fluttering up to meet his. He smiled again, a benevolent smile, and she darted out her tongue to taste him, moving tentatively at first, then with more gusto and he allowed his head to fall back against the wall and sighed.
“Take me in your mouth.”
She stopped for a moment, then leaned even farther in, the wet warmth of her mouth enclosing him, sliding up and down as far as she could without gagging, her hand struggling to make up the difference.
“That’s it,” he moaned, grinning as he gritted his teeth, his fingers weaving into the mock bridal veil, pulling her head even farther down, sliding himself in and out of her mouth, “That’s it.”
The taste of him filled her and she watched his face, looking for approval, any previous disgust she had felt sliding away as a new warmth filled her body. His eyes were closed, now, his pleasure evident as he simply stood and allowed her to do her best, feeling her lips tighten about the head, her tongue coating the bottom.
He seemed to glance down in slow motion, his eyes catching a glimmer of red neon as he smiled. She
was on her knees in the filth, her bridal veil tousled and clenched in his fist, her innocence staring up at him He grinned even wider as his other hand grabbed hold of the veil, his fingers tightening through it into her hair, and he started to roughly pump in and out of her mouth, picking up speed until he was slamming into her throat, the gagging he caused arousing him even farther, her eyes watering as she struggled to keep up.
It was tempting to stop there, to revel in the violation and the warmth and allow himself to simply explode deep into her stomach, but instead, he roughly yanked her to her feet and spun her around, slamming her into the wall as his lips met hers again, one hand kneading her breast, the other sliding up her skirt. She tried to stop him, a moment of sanity returning, but he left her breast and quickly captured both her hands, pinning them to her own belly as he ripped out the crotch of her panties and slid a finger inside.
She was hot and wet and...he smiled.
She wanted to die, to disappear, ashamed of something she had been so proud of before.
“I’m waiting...” she could barely speak, his finger was dancing at the edge of her and sliding across her and teasing her and...”I’m....I was waiting for my wedding tomorrow.”
“For your wedding night? Oh, how romantic,” she could feel the threat of his leaving with every inch of her body, her pussy tightening as she tried to capture his finger and get it deeper inside.
He loosened his grip on her hands and spun her around, forcing her to bend over the dumpster beside them, pulling her skirt up around her waist. The smell of garbage met her nose, the slimy feel of metal under her hands, then he was behind her, his breath on her pussy, teasing the hairs, trickling over her wetness.
His tongue slid forward and she screamed into the dumpster, the heat of it jabbing into her clit and teasing it out from under its hood. It seemed so rough and smooth as it danced about, sliding over her firmly, darting inside to circle the rim. Her breath came in short gasps, her cheek pressed into slick, dirty metal, her eyes closing tightly as she tried to scream again.
Again, he slid his tongue inside of her, then he was sucking at her clit, then he was licking and pushing at her asshole. Again and again he made the circuit, falling into a steady rhythm, focusing more and more on her clit until she thought she would pass out, bringing her closer and closer to the orgasm she’d almost had before, never letting her peak. She growled with frustration as his tongue left her, but he slid up to stand behind her, poised to enter, his cock pushing at the very edge, his hands on her waist.
Then, again, he simply stopped.
“Do you want me?” his voice was a low chuckle, a dark laugh.
“Yes,” she moaned and circled her hips, trying to coax him inside.
“Truly want me?”
“Yes,” she was sobbing, arching her back, straining.
He loosened his grasp and, without thinking, she slammed back into him, screaming at the sharp pain as he ripped through her. His hands tightened again and he thrust into her again, moving farther in this time, then again, and again, until he was buried to the hilt. Slowly, then, ever so slowly, he set his pace, reveling in the tightness of her, the sounds she made, the smell of her that surrounded him even through the garbage. Slowly, ever so slowly, he slid in and out until she began to move with him and he slowed even more, pulling fully out and sliding all the way back in.
One hand left her waist and his finger circled her clit, causing her to buck against him. Another hand slid back and he teased her ass, his spit making his thumb slid easily in part way, her movements becoming frenzied. He simply stood still then and let her move, her pace increasing as she drove for the orgasm she had been so long denied, muttered obscenities falling from her lips. Now he had a finger fully inside her ass and she thrust back and forth as though mad, her veil smeared with rotting garbage, her cheeks streaked with dirt and sweat She worked him, circling her hips, lost in her rapture. She was fucking him and he simply stood and took it, his own pleasure evident in the slit of his eyes, the way his head fell back.
She worked even harder, her orgasm nearly on her, her breasts bouncing with each thrust, her back arched, her head tossed back to the sky. His finger danced just too lightly on her clit, his other finger was deep inside her ass, rubbing deliciously against his cock as it slid in and out of her, stretching her in a way she would have thought impossible. He moved harder against her clit, the wetness burning away slightly under the friction, another finger joining the one in her ass and she finally came, her cries reaching to the skies as her eyes flew open and her body locked into place, his own thrusting taking up where she had left off, making it last and last, rolling over her, making her sightless, stopping her breath.
He opened his own eyes and smiled broadly, meeting the gaze of her friend, the black haired woman, who stood near the other dumpster. At the sight of her open mouthed shock, he laughed again and pulled the bride tight onto him, his own orgasm washing over him. With each wave, he pulled her a little closer, enjoying her shrieks of pleasure as they mingled with his own growls of ecstasy.
Then, in the relative silence, he stood for a moment before roughly pushing her away, her legs giving out and dropping her onto the concrete. The black haired girl just stared, one hand at her mouth, as he tucked himself together and ran his fingers through his hair.
With a final smile, he left them, the bride crying as sanity returned, her veil torn and muddied, her shirt gone, her skin covered in the bruises he gave her, her friend not taking a single step to help her. At the mouth of the alley, he stopped and his voice came back on the breeze.
“A lovely wedding to you, may you have all the happiness I’m capable of wishing to you.”
The crowds around him once again, he laughed to himself and began the hunt anew. She would never be able to claim rape, her own enthusiasm had seen to that. She would never be able to hide the bruises to her new husband. Her husband would never be able to make her come as strongly as she had in that dark alley and she would find herself fantasizing about it in the years to come, her shame returning more and more strongly with every orgasm she coaxed herself to from the memory. He had no idea how she would resolve this and he didn’t care. Her innocence was his now and there was so much more he could do before the sun rose.
As he shook himself from his memory, he realized the water was growing cold and the sun would be up soon. He stepped out of the shower and flipped on the light, gazing at himself in the blood spattered mirror, ignoring the form that lay on the floor behind him, its breathing long since stopped. He dressed nonchalantly and headed out the door, locking it behind him. He avoided the elevator and the people that lived in the building, taking the stairs two at a time and singing softly to himself.
In a few moments, the demon stepped into the end of the night and headed home.