Demon Ridden Ch. 03: Glutteny

Sorry it's taken me so long to finish this next part--I'd blame the holidays but it's been a good month beyond that. Life is hard. Hopefully it's worth the wait.

CW: Nonconsent, drug use, minor body horror

I ran. It followed.

The hallway stretched endlessly before me, the angles and shadows twisting strangely. With every step, the floor bent a little bit more to the right and the ceiling dipped a little more to the left. A door, a door, there had to be a door up ahead. I must have come through a door at some point, right?

Something caught my ankle in an unyielding grasp and and pulled, yanking me backwards. I hit the ground hard, and my vision went white for a moment as I cracked my head against the stone floor.

"Foolish thing," my pursuer sneered in a voice I felt more than heard. Clawed hands tore at my armor and clothing, paying no attention to the cuts and scrapes they left behind in their haste. I writhed and kicked at it, but I may as well have kicked the wall for all the good it did me.

"You think you could escape?" the thing continued, its words echoing inside my skull. "Is that what you truly want, little mortal?"

Something hot and wet swiped across my back, and I shuddered as I realized it was the thing's tongue. Its saliva burned against my skin, setting nerve endings ablaze with pain.

But not just pain, I realized as I twisted, straining to bring my arms to bear. There was pleasure, too--white-hot, raw, mind-melting pleasure.

"Yes," the thing gloated, sneering triumphantly as my struggles slowly turned into languid twitches. More of its drool hit my leg, and I let out an involuntary moan as a bolt of lightning ran up my back. "You see, now."

"Get off me," I managed to gasp between spasms of pain and pleasure. "Go fuck yourself."

"No, little mortal." It flattened me against the ground again, and I felt something hot and hard brush against the lips of my sex. "This is the part where I fuck you."

With one savage motion, it sank the full length of its cock inside me. Pleasure and pain beyond anything I'd ever known exploded through my body as the impossibly large member thrust deeper and deeper. I could all but feel my innards shifting to make room for the impossible length, and I screamed in wordless protest--a scream that turned orgasmic as I erupted.

The orgasm ripped through my body with the same brutal efficiency as the demon, and left just as much devastation in its wake. Fire flooded my veins, even as my muscles went limp and my nerves lit up with sensation. I felt like I was cumming with my entire body, and for a moment I lost the world completely.

And then the demon pulled back.

Inch after inch of red-black cock slid out of my body, paying no heed to the shuddering aftershocks of the most power orgasm of my life. In its wake it left an emptiness, a yearning void that demanded to be filled. Fear, disgust, and horror spilled into the void, leaving me empty of everything but pleasure.

I wanted that cock back inside me. I needed it back inside me.

The demon stopped at the last second, the head of its penis just barely inside the folds of my sex. My body felt numb without it; the only sensation I could make out was the heat in my cunt, a mere ember of the inferno it had been a moment ago.

And then the demon thrust back in.

I exploded again, screaming hard enough to tear my throat. Fresh orgasms raked my body with every inch that forced its way inside me. I twitched and howled, writhed and drooled, as the demon pushed inexorably forward. I pawed at my breasts, still looking for more, but no matter how hard I yanked or pinched my nipples, nothing registered against the overwhelming pleasure from my cunt.

Another thrust. I was cumming so fast now that I couldn't make out individual orgasms anymore, merely a flood of inhuman pleasure.

Another. My vision was fading. I could no longer feel the rough stone floor under my cheek, or the cold cavern air on my skin. It didn't matter. Nothing compared to what was going on inside me.

Another. Another. An--

With a wet pop, the demon pulled out of me completely. I slumped bonelessly to the ground, sticky with my own fluids and too overwhelmed to think. Only a single thought was left in my head.

"Please," I groaned weakly. I didn't have the strength to do more than twitch my ass, but my voice was thick with mindless desire.

"Please what?" The demon rumbled. A clawed finger teased the lips of my sex, lifting me back to the brink of orgasm for a single glorious instant.

"Please... master."

#

I sat bolt upright, soaked with sweat and juices and panting so hard it hurt. The flickering firelight revealed the wooden walls around my bed, and the poorly-made window let in a continual trickle of cold night air. A bird cried harshly somewhere off in the distance.

What. The. Hell?

The memories of my dream were fading as sleep withdrew, but I could remember the overwhelming pleasure. My sheets were torn where I'd clawed at them in the depths of my dream, my pussy and thighs were so wet I looked like I'd just jumped in the ocean, and the scent of my own arousal was so strong they could probably smell it in the common room.

Without really thinking about it, I lifted a hand to my mouth to taste my own juices. Mmm. Maybe they did smell me in the common room. Maybe they were turning on each other, grabbing the nearest partner and trying to capture some of that pleasure for themselves. Maybe--

Maybe there was something fucking wrong with me. I kicked off the tangled remains of my sheets and got to my feet, unable to stand the thought of spending any more time soaking in my own sweat and cum. The berserk rage had been bad, but the thought of... had I really been fucking that thing? Willingly? It made me feel sick to my stomach, and I welcomed the nausea. Anything to help wash away the lingering feelings from my dream.

Actually, had it done more than just freak me out? I felt a shiver run down my spine and pulled my shirt off, desperate to make sure I hadn't grown tentacles or something. The inn was too cheap to put real mirrors in the standard rooms, but when you're standing in an illuminated room on a dark night a window can do almost as well.

I couldn't see any new changes, but my outburst earlier this evening had certainly left its mark. I'd gained a couple inches of height, and almost as much across the shoulders. I've always been strong, but now my muscles stood out like I'd been fasting for a body-building competition. My breasts and ass had expanded as well. Not much, just enough to counterbalance the changes to my musculature, but they were definitely larger than before. The lines of my face had been smoothed and polished, and my muddy brown hair had darkened to midnight black. The leathery, demon-tainted skin of my left arm now extended past my elbow, and my right hand was starting to look a little reddish as well.

Worst of all, my eyes were still glowing. Not as brightly as when I'd been standing in front of my admirers, thank the gods, but if you knew what to look for it was easy to make out the sullen golden light oozing from my irises.

The curse is far from done with you. I snorted. No shit, Dara.

I considered trying to go back to sleep, but the thought of crawling back into the sodden mess of blankets turned my stomach. And the dreams that might await me if I did... no, I wasn't sleeping any more tonight. Maybe not ever.

Moving slowly, I dressed as best I could. Clothes that had been loose earlier today were now tight enough to make me feel uncomfortable. The tunic was bad enough, even after I'd wrapped my boobs, but I had to squeeze and wiggle to fit into any of my pants, and once donned they hugged my legs so tightly you could pick out individual muscles.

Fuck it. I draped my old brown cloak around my shoulders, letting the heavy canvas conceal most of my body. I'd get some weird looks, but I'd take those over leers any day.

Fear and anger, anger and fear. Those were what the curse seemed to be playing on. I'd been scared for my life when I'd gone berserk back in the hills, and I'd been pissed at Henry when I put on my little show. It was a diabolically clever pairing. I was scared of what was happening to my body, terrified of losing my mind and soul--and my usual coping strategy for for fear was to get angry instead. Which was fuel for the curse, which led back to fear, which lead back to anger...

It was more than I could deal with right now. I needed time to think, to catch my breath and make a plan--and for that to happen, I needed to avoid anything that might set off the curse. I didn't trust my willpower alone. I needed help.

"Excuse me." I waved to get the bartender's attention, then tapped a gold piece on the bar in front of her. Her eyes locked onto the coin like a starving woman, and she hurried over.

"Late night, honey?" She asked, stretching to make sure I got a good look at her boobs. She probably was no more than ten years older than me, but she wore the years and pounds well enough to send a shiver of desire down my spine.

"Something like that." I dropped the coin on the table. "How much stillweed will that buy me?"

The woman made the coin disappear into her ample bosom and reached under the bar. From a small leather bag, she counted out a dozen little green seed pods. After a moment, she added a thirteenth with a wink.

Crushed and dissolved in oil, the seeds of the stillweed plant could be made into a sort of low-grade painkiller that numbed the flesh. When smoked, they numbed the mind and heart instead. It wasn't a sensation I usually enjoyed, but right now it sounded like just what I needed.

One seed pod could keep you pleasantly dull for somewhere around a half hour, depending on your tolerance. Three or four, smoked in quick succession, would get you so stoned you couldn't remember your own name. I had no idea what thirteen would do. Make your brain dribble out of your ears, maybe.

I looked at the little pile, sighed, and pulled out another nine gold pieces.

#

Back in my room, I looked at the pile of stillweed and frowned, thinking. I'd been planning to visit an information broker I sort of knew to see what he could tell me about Jake dvOlivia, but from what I remembered he could be both painfully cowardly and absolutely infuriating. I couldn't risk getting swept up in the curse and strangling the little weasel, so... better to err on the side of caution.

I stuffed three stillweed pods into the bowl of an old clay pipe and lit it from the lamp. One puff. Two. My lungs felt like they were being filled with air from the depths of winter, chilling and numbing me from the inside out.

Three puffs. Something was definitely happening inside my head, though. My thoughts felt like they were slowing down. That was nice.

More.

I didn't question where the urge came from. Before I even properly registered it, I was already lifting the pipe back to my lips.

Four puffs. Yeah... that was a nice sensation. And this bed was pretty nice, too.

Five puffs. I coughed and managed to put the pipe down on the bedside table. Maybe that had been a little too much. I leaned back and felt my head hit the pillow. Just a quick rest to let the drug wear off a bit. A quick rest. Then maybe just a little bit more...

The last thing I saw before my eyes flickered shut was the pipe, still smoldering slightly.

#

I'm not sure what I did with the next couple days. Hell, I'm not even sure it was a couple days; I kept myself high enough for long enough that I lost the very concept of time for a while. I just drifted from minute to minute, floating on a soothing wave of beer and stillweed.

Food appeared in front of me and I ate it. Fatigue overcame me and I fell asleep on the spot. Drinks were downed as soon as they were delivered. I was pretty sure I kept enough self-respect to use the privy, but in all honesty I couldn't say.

My next clear memory was lying on my back, staring up at the ceiling from a bed even filthier than before my binge. The room stank of sweat and vomit and stale drink, and was littered with the scraps of discarded meals. I was more hungover than I'd ever been in my life, and my stomach was a knotted void of hunger.

And someone was pounding on the door.

I staggered over and pawed weakly at the wood until I found the latch and figured out how to make it work. Stupid doors. Who decided they should be so complicated, anyway? They should have had more sympathy for us hungover drunks.

The inn's bouncer was waiting in the hall, six and a half feet and three hundred pounds of ebon-skinned Pastellan manflesh crammed into tights and a dark blue vest. I'd spent an evening drinking with him last weekend when he was off-duty, exchanging stories of past battles and conquests. His name was... Marcus? Marius? Marcellus? Crap. Stupid memory.

"Err. You want to find a shirt first, hun?" He rumbled, cheeks darkening as he quickly glanced away, and I looked down at myself and winced. I was naked from the waist up, but covered with so many stains and bits of dropped food that it would have taken an onlooker a few moments to notice.

"What do you want?" I mumbled around the hangover, doing my best to hide behind the door. My stomach audibly growled, and all I could think about was getting him to go away so I could go back to my gluttony.

"Another few coins for last night's bed and dinner, ideally." He sighed. "Otherwise you'd best be moving on."

"Hang on." I shut the door and rummaged through the mess, looking for my coin pouch. It took longer than I would have liked, though in the process I did manage to find a grey canvas tunic that was only a little dirty. When I finally dug the purse out of the tangled wreckage of my bed, it was empty.

No. No, no no no no.

I shifted through the sheets again, then tore them off the bed and scrabbled through the mess at my feet. Don't tell me. Please, don't--

"Fuck." I groaned and dropped my head into my hands, the claws on my demon hand pressing unpleasantly against my scalp. Three hundred gold pieces, gone. By the Dominions, how much had I been drinking?

A chunk of trencher bread crunched under my shin. Drinking. And eating. And smoking. And...

"Miss?" From the doorway, the bouncer--Marius, I was pretty sure Marius was the right name--coughed politely. "Are you okay?"

No, I'm not fucking okay. It was all I could do to keep from screaming in his face. He wasn't responsible for any of this. Not the bankruptcy, not the curse, and certainly not the gnawing hunger in the pit of my stomach.

"Hey," the big man said softly, taking a cautious step towards me, half-extending a hand in an uncertain gesture of support. "I don't know what's botherin' you, but-- merciful ancestors!"

He jerked back, eyes wide. He clapped one hand over his mouth as if to keep from screaming, and used the other to point at my face.

My face... oh, shit. I ran my fingers over my features, still unfamiliar after my previous change. Nose, eyes, ears, all still there. Mouth still there. In excess, even. Chin as it should be. Hair--

Wait. Mouth?

I ran a nervous finger along my lip, starting from the center of my face and continuing almost to my ear.

By the Dominions. I spun around and dove for my sword, which I'd kicked halfway across the room in my desperate search for money. Marius gave a shout of alarm as I grabbed the hilt, but I ignored him. A full draw wasn't necessary, anyway. Just a foot or so, so I could see my reflection in the well-polished steel. Just enough to--

I recoiled and flung my sword away, fighting down a surge of nausea. My mouth had to be more than a foot wide. My lips continued all the way along my jawbone, with gums and teeth to match. If I smiled, I'd by grinning literally ear to ear. Even my tongue felt wrong. Too long, too thick, too... forked?

That last realization was too much, and I doubled over and vomited what felt like everything I'd ever eaten. My jaws felt weird, and I realized they'd probably just dislocated like a goddamn snake. I heaved again.

The hand had been bad, but it was still recognizable as my hand. The skin had changed, the nails had changed, but it still moved and responded like it always had. The glowing eyes were creepy, but I couldn't exactly see them. Easy to ignore, since I didn't think my vision had been affected at all.

But my mouth? That was wrong. It wasn't my mouth, wasn't even a human mouth. The feel of air blowing across lips that shouldn't exist, the excess length of tongue flopping around as I lost whatever instinctive control I'd been exerting--it was repulsive right down to my soul.

I wanted, needed it gone. I scrabbled at my face with both hands, until even my human nails drew blood. No. No, no, no, no, no, no--

"Cut that out, you hear?" Marius grabbed my wrists and forced my arms away from my face. I twisted in his grasp, half mad with panic as tears and blood dripped down my cheeks.

"This ain't helping anyone," the big man continued, pulling me into a hug that was half-embrace, half-restraint. "Deep breaths, hun. Deep breaths."

Deep breaths? That was his advice? I was losing myself inch by inch, body and soul being twisted into something inhuman, and he wanted me to take deep breaths? I made some unintelligible snorting noises, halfway between laughs and sobs.

Doomed. I was doomed. Jake was getting his revenge after all.

Marius tightened his arms around me, and I clung to the comfort it provided. He was practically a stranger, but he was human. He was human, and he was still willing to touch me, and right now that was the most important thing in the world.

I followed his advice and took a deep breath. I had to get a hold of myself, had to recover some sort of mental equilibrium. Sitting here crying like this was hardly sustainable. It wasn't going to get me anywhere, and it didn't matter if I was turning into a demon--I refused to let myself fall apart like this. I had more pride than that.

The curse liked the idea of pride, and I let the rising tide of arrogance lend me the strength to silence my sobs. I'm sure it was a bad idea to give in like this, but I wasn't exactly bursting with better options. At least it would get me up and moving again.

"Thank you," I managed, trying to ignore the uncomfortable sensation of extra tongue sliding around the inside of my mouth. "You can let go now."

"You ain't gonna keep trying to claw your face off?"

"No." I tried to offer him a small smile, but from the way he blanched it didn't work with my new super-sized mouth.

Marius released me and helped me to my feet. I stepped away as soon as I could and started scrabbling through the mess for a scarf or handkerchief or something I could use to hide my face.

"Look," the big man said nervously. "I don't know what's going on, and I know it ain't my business, but... I got a cousin who's real good with curses."

"Yeah?" I found a length of cotton I'd figured on using for bandages and started wrapping it around my mouth and neck. "They going to fix my fucking face?"

"No idea," Marius admitted. "But it's not like she's gonna make it any worse."

"Okay." I took a deep breath. "Okay. Give me a few minutes to clean up and I'll go see your cousin."

"I'll be downstairs." He nodded, and turned to go.

"I..." I grabbed his arm, thankfully remembering to use my human hand. "Thank you, Marius."

"What kind'a man would I be to leave you in such a mess?" He gave me one last worried look before beating a hasty retreat.

For a moment, my eyes focused on the big man's back, watching the muscles flex underneath his vest as he walked down the hall. My stomach rumbled, and I felt the first stirrings of desire. I didn't normally like men, but he looked good enough to eat.