Self Help Ch. 01

Note: this story contains a huge non-consensual element. It is strictly a fantasy and consent in real life should always be given enthusiastically and freely.

This is my first time writing erotic fiction in years, and my first time ever posting it somewhere like this. Let me know if it's worth continuing.

*****

Joe sighed as he closed his apartment door behind him, setting his backpack down and kicking off his shoes.

It had been a long day. He should have been done work at five, but a few people weren't in and it slowed them down so badly that he was still there at eight. He left shortly after, but the bus comes only hourly at that point, and he'd missed it by a few minutes.

He walked the few steps through his small apartment to its tiny kitchen, looking at the pile of unwashed dishes as a wave of lethargy overcame him. A problem for tomorrow, he thought, pulling the water pitcher from the fridge and pouring himself a glass.

Having fast food for dinner certainly didn't help, but he also knew he wouldn't have been up to cooking this late at night either way. He finished the glass of water and slumped his way over to his small bedroom, discarding his t-shirt and jeans in the process. He kicked his socks off and pulled on a thin tank top from his dresser, then slid into bed.

What a complete and utter waste of a day, he thought. He didn't even bother to put something on his phone to fall asleep to - didn't even bother to set it to charge. It was barely past 9:30, but he couldn't think of anything that was worth being conscious for. Completely miserable, he rolled over and fell asleep.

-

"Seriously? This is what I'm stuck with?"

Joe felt his whole body turn cold. He was sure he'd locked the door, but he could hear a voice, clear as day, in his apartment. He kept his eyes shut tight. My window opens right onto the parking lot, he reminded himself. It always sounds like it's coming from inside. That's all it is.

"You," he heard the voice say. It was a woman's voice, dripping with impatience. It sounded closer, and he closed his eyes tighter. "You, boy."

He felt something prod his shin over top of the blanket, and he yelled, his eyes shooting open as he pushed himself up to the headboard, bringing his knees up to his chest. Standing at the foot of his bed, lit only by the little bit of moonlight streaming in from the window, was a tall, curvy woman, clothed in nothing but wide black ribbons covering her chest and crotch. He noticed, with horror, two small horns peeking out of her short, black hair, and the forked tail, resting where his leg was only a second ago.

"Christ," she said. Joe could swear he saw her roll her black eyes.

"Who are you?" Joe stammered, pulling the blankets up to his chest.

"Leera," the demon-thing said, as if it offered any information.

"What do you want from me?"

Leera raised her eyebrows at him. "Nothing you have here is anything I want," she said. "I can't believe my fucking luck. You live like this?"

Joe just stared at her.

Leera let out a long, annoyed sigh. "Look," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose between two long-nailed fingers. "I had the utter misfortune to draw," she started, before pausing. "You know what? I've waited long enough for this and I don't owe you shit."

Before Joe had a second to try to decipher that, he felt as long tendrils wrapped around his ankles under the blanket, pulling them back and outward to the corners of the bed. Two more wrapped around his wrists, binding them together and stretching them back toward the headboard. His mouth was suddenly covered by a wide, black ribbon similar to the type she wore.

"Right," she said, looking at her fingers. She looked like someone paused at a grocery store, trying to see if they remembered to get everything they needed. She then waved a finger in the air quickly and Joe saw, in the dim light, a thin black dome surround his bedroom, before disappearing.

"You can be as loud as you want now," Leera said. She pulled the blanket and sheets off of him, leaving him laying on his bed in just a tank top and his boxers. She crawled over him, resting her knees on either side of his chest, before peeling back the ribbon over his mouth. It felt like duct tape as she slowly ripped it off. As she pulled the last little bit, Joe watched it disappear.

Leera then slid back along him before scratching a single nail from the bottom of his neck, down to his hips. The tank top he was wearing shredded, almost magically. She then used the same nail to cut each of the sleeves, then pulled it off of him, discarding it on the floor next to the bed.

"Ooh, scars," she said, eyeing his chest and dragging a nail across the incisions from his top surgery. She then ran a nail over one of his nipples. "So you're trans then, I guess? I have all this to deal with and I don't even get a dick out of it?"

"I'm sorry," Joe offered, unsure of what else he was supposed to say.

Leera ignored him. "Can you feel anything in these?" she asked, rubbing her nails over his nipples again.

Joe shook his head.

Leera let out a frustrated groan, before sliding back even more.

She cut his boxers off too, then ran her nails sharply down the sides of his torso, making him scream out.

"At least the rest of you is sensitive," she said, her voice still heavy with contempt.

She scratched long, red marks up the insides of his thighs before running a nail along his slit. "Your little clit will get the attention I was going to give your nipples too, then," she said, more to herself than to Joe. She pressed the nail down harder, and it pushed into his clit. He shut his eyes tightly in pain, trying to wiggle away from her.

"Don't you fucking dare," she snapped, looking up to him. Her voice had changed from annoyance to fury, and he swore he could see red in her dark eyes. "Don't you fucking dare to keep that away from me when this is all I fucking get."

Two more tendrils wrapped around his knees, pulling them painfully outward, stretching his legs open. He winced again and instinctively tried to struggle, finding himself completely stuck.

Two more, thinner tendrils shot off of the ones on his thighs, each ending with two, sharp fingernails. The fingernails pinched his labia, pulling them outward too, exposing his clit.

"Should have just let me scratch it," she said, before waving her finger and conjuring a thin, black candle, already lit.

"What are you," Joe tried, but as soon as he started talking, his mouth was sealed with the black ribbon again.

She ignored him completely, not even looking up at his face, before tilting the candle down, letting the wax drip onto his clit.

He screamed as much as he could under the ribbon. She waited a moment, then conjured an identical candle in her other hand, before dripping wax from each of the candles along the insides of his thighs.

She paused for another moment as Joe tried to catch his breath, struggling to get enough air through his nose, before reaching down and peeling the hardened wax of his clit. Her sharp nails scratched along his burned and sensitive clit as she did so, making him cry out again.

"Here's what we're going to do," she said, calmly again, dismissing one of the candles as her tail wrapped itself around the one that was left. "I'm going to sit on your face and you're going to make me cum. If I feel like you're slacking off, I'll drip this wax-" her tail wagged a little, holding the candle, "over your clit. When I cum, it ends."

Joe stared up at her, his eyes wide, as she slid forward along his body.

She positioned herself above his face, the ribbons around her thighs pushing upward as she spread her legs, then lowered herself onto his mouth. As soon as her labia touched the black ribbon over his mouth, it vanished, and Joe could feel her heat against his mouth.

He felt a drip of wax over his clit. "Well?" Leera demanded.

Joe opened his mouth and quickly sucked Leera's clit. She tasted heavenly, and Joe could feel blood rush to his abused clit despite himself. His fear left him just as quickly. He licked circles around her clit as she rocked forward on his face, her breasts swaying rhythmically with her body.

He let his tongue lay flat, letting her grind against it, as she held onto the headboard and used it to rock herself even harder against his face. He tried to catch his breath until another, larger drop of wax fell onto his clit.

He began sucking again, his arms pulling against the tendrils in an effort to move his face closer to her. He'd gone down on women before, he knew how to do this, how to be precise, but he could feel himself get sloppy as he desperately tried to maintain a quick pace.

He felt small drops of wax rain down on his thighs as her tail shook involuntarily in the background, and it spurred him on. She was moaning now, letting more of her weight rest against him. His own clit still ached. He wanted nothing more than to make this beautiful woman cum, but he'd have given anything to have something to grind against. His clit still exposed to the open air, he found himself wishing even for the wax, just to feel something.

Squeezing his eyes closed to stop any frustrated tears from leaking out, he sucked Leera's clit harder into his mouth, and she screamed above him. She let go of the headboard and let her hands find her hair as she kept rocking against him, and he kept licking. She began to slow down, catching her own breath, and Joe slowed his tongue down.

Leera let out a long exhale before climbing off of him, standing up next to the bed.

"At least you have that going for you," she said, before taking a deep breath. "Most guys with dicks don't really know what to do."

Joe was only half-listening; he was still more turned on than he'd ever been in his entire life, desperately trying to move his hips up and down against his binds, trying to rub his clit on something, anything.

"I guess you probably want to cum," she said.

Joe looked at her and nodded.

"Demons like me get assigned to people," she said. "Lonely people, like you. A lot are rich, older guys - sometimes women - with big, beautiful houses. You live in this shoebox shithole. And I was assigned to you."

Joe had turned back away from her, still desperately trying to move his hips.

She slapped him sharply across the face. "Would you listen to me?"

He stopped moving.

"I'm pretty much stuck inside your apartment all day. I'm not here all the time, physically, but I don't have anywhere else to go. So you can imagine my dismay when I find out this is where I was sent."

She looked at his dumbstruck face then let out another protracted sigh. "I guess you're probably pretty desperate to cum," she said. "Go ahead then."

He felt the tendril around his right wrist disappear, and he shot his hand down to his clit. He rubbed it furiously with his first two fingers, grinding up into them.

He began panting as he desperately chased his climax, oblivious to Leera still standing over him. Right before he was about to cum, he felt his hand move backward, almost of its own accord.

"Actually," Leera said, slowly, "I don't think so. New rules. Your apartment has to be clean or I'm going to hurt you and not let you cum. I'll be ready to play every day at eleven at night. You had better be in bed by then. Naked, unless you want more of your clothes ruined."

He whimpered as he looked over at her.

"Sorry dude," she said, shrugging. "Do your dishes next time. You should try to jerk off during the day - you won't let yourself, just watch, but I bet it'll keep you frustrated as hell all day. That would be pretty fun for me."

Leera waved a hand over his body quickly, and he felt as if a wall of cold water splashed over him, instantly cooling him down and alleviating his desperation. He would have believed it had actually been water if it were not for the fact he was still totally dry. He felt the remaining tendrils fade, and slowly brought his legs back together.

"I'll see you tomorrow night," Leera said, then she vanished.