tagErotic HorrorThe Cult of the Lamia Ch. 12

The Cult of the Lamia Ch. 12


Her mind sank, deeper and deeper into the hurtful bliss that was oblivion. He continued to pound into her, his cock harder, longer than any mortal, his movements impossibly fast. He still talked, spoke to them like before- his mind was less controllable; he couldn't choose to look into his victims head, he just saw what they wanted. Deep dark desire, brought forth into the world in mortal form.

He was taking her viciously from behind, as he had been for the last several hours. His hand was wrapped in her long blonde hair, forcing his cock into her harder and harder, his ever thrust forced ever deeper by her body bucking back onto him. He pulled harder; the mixture of her pain and pleasure was intoxicating. He felt alive, more than he had for a long time.

Six months had passed, since he had last seen Cassie and Michelle. He hoped they were well, but they were images, concepts of a life he had lost, that he could no longer live. Pictures of morals he could no longer stand up to. Words in a book that was no longer his own.

She had come more times than he could count. She just kept erupting around his ever hard cock, over and over and over. His body reacted to hers, his cock even bigger than it had been when he was turned. He noticed that his form changed as he willed it, moulding to how he wanted to look. Now he found that his cock had lengthened, grown to make it just a touch bigger than this girl wanted. When she had seen it, she shivered. He pulsed, remembering.

She was so aloof, so gorgeous, standing at the bar. She was a cliché; her long flowing hair touching her slender shoulders lightly, just setting off her long black dress. She stood there, champagne glass in hand, wanting. He could feel her envy, stronger than if it was his own. She longed to be rich to have everything that riches could give her. She was poor, the dress not her own, there on loan from a friend. She was not overly smart, but she was good. Honest. She appealed to the devil in him.

He walked over to her, reading the way he looked to her from her mind. Where before he was roughly middle sized, now he towered over everyone, standing at just below seven feet. He was broader, but he carried the muscle with both ease and distain. But she marvelled at the way he moved; catlike, graceful, completely without a sound.

She saw the cut of his suit jacket and shirt, took in the cufflinks- he never needed to buy any, being able to charm anything he needed. He stroked the warmth she felt; this man was more than rich, he was obscene.

Mark walked over and looked straight into her eyes without saying anything. She fell into them, her own dark brown falling into the deep blackish red. His eyes had muted from the deep crimson, as though the evil within him forced them to harden, to dull. She noted the colour without truly taking it in. He was what she wanted; he saw his own body behind hers, thrusting harder and harder, in her mind. He saw her bound to her headboard, screaming out as she came.

He hadn't needed to say anything to her. He held out his hand, and led her to a taxi. She hadn't even struggled; not that they normally did, and even then, it made it even better sometimes. He pushed her back roughly, against the seat. He felt her discomfort as aphrodisiac.

"The nearest decent hotel, please." He requested of the driver, as he leant down, over her body, covering her from view. She was nervous, hot and cold, tense. She wasn't normally this forward, and he was sexy, but he was strange, his movements quick and almost frightening. He fed off her fear, holding his weight off her, running his mouth over hers. She forgot her fear quickly, forgot her misgivings. She wrapped her arms around his head, pulling his mouth hard on to hers. He felt her need for violence, and reciprocated in kind. He pulled the top of her dress down, scratching at her skin. She felt the pain, but his touch thrilled her. His mouth was insistent on hers, demanding.

Her legs were either side of his body, and she longed for him in her. It had been a while, and she wanted it before she went out, but now she was beyond waiting, beyond caring that she was in the back of a taxi with a complete stranger.

He pushed his hand between them, running his nails ungently over her inner thigh. She arched her back, almost as though she wanted him to stop, but she moaned, and bit his ear. Lifting up her dress, he tore at her panties, and placed his right palm low on her back, just above where her ass ended. She gasped; she had no idea she was that sensitive there, or at all on her ass.

He wasn't finished either. He ran his hands firmly over her thighs, pressing his nails firmly into the skin, and she bit her lip from the pain. She was aware of the heat she could feel building between her legs, the desire for him mounting inside her body. She was begging into his ear, "Please, please fuck me now, PLEASE!!"

The taxi stopped, and the driver turned around.

"The Hilton. Now, get the FUCK outa my cab!! I'm charging you twenty more!"

Mark lifted his blood red eyes to the driver. He raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

He got out, leading the girl the whole time. He didn't speak to the driver again, and the driver didn't get out. Mark caught the driver's fear. He was petrified. Mark smiled, clenching his teeth. The girl shivered again, and he saw her looking at him, and only really seeing for the first time.

He got a room, and pushed her back into the elevator, and as the doors closed he got down on his knees, lifting her dress back up. He pulled her panties aside, and ran his tongue long and firmly along her warm wet slit.

She grasped his head, beyond sound. The heat building had become hard, burning. She felt every movement, every slight touch. His tongue against her clit; his lips, hard up against her skin; the stubble of his jaw scoring along the inside of her thighs. She loved it all, the overwhelming sensations flooding her body. She writhed against him, pushing and pulling away from him uncontrollably.

He led her to their room, and threw her to the bed, ignoring her cry of pain as her head hit the headboard. That was nothing, he thought. He forced himself between her legs biting her neck just a touch too hard for it to be just pleasurable. But she loved it again, even though it hurt. He rolled her over, underneath him, and ripped her dress off her body, pulling off her panties with the other had. He freed his cock with his mind, and he saw how it looked in her mind. She quivered; it was even bigger than the dildo she had at home, the one she hadn't even used all of. His cock was terrific, fully as long as her forearm, and she felt herself tighten at the thought of it in her.

He absorbed all of this, feeling himself get rock hard. He ran his forefinger along her sex, and with her juices lubricated the head of his cock. He held back for now, gently placing it at the entrance to her body, nibbling at her shoulder as he did. She didn't know whether or not to arch her back to let him in, or to try to keep him out, but he didn't give her much room either way.

He took her whole in one thrust.

He was slow, gratingly slow, and her eyes widened as he pushed in. He wasn't only ludicusly long, but he was thicker around than anything she had ever had before as well. And this mattered far more than she had supposed it would- she felt every millimetre, centermetre, inch. He was in no hurry.

When he was all the way inside, she sighed. He didn't move for a bit, letting her adjust to his weight, his thighs firm up against her ass. He was lying on top of her, her body pressed hard up against the bed, his hands holding her wrists hard up against the bedframe.

He withdrew in one movement, before fucking back inside. Hard.

She screamed out in sheer feeling. Pain, bliss, she wasn't sure. Screaming was the only outlet she had, as he pounded into her, over and over again. She felt him lengthen in her again, and she tightened around him, stroking him higher and higher. No time for thought or words; she was sensation, a blazing vessel of fire and pain and sheer utter pleasure.

She felt it begin, kind of like agony, moving from the start of his cock, as the head ran the entire length of her insides. It built as he thrust again, and again. Every time he took her, she went higher and higher. She reached a point she would have normally called orgasm, but she didn't stop. She felt the searing orgasm almost as pain, running through her body, over and over faster and faster.

One of his hands crept under her, and he pulled her body hard back onto his, his fingers hard on her clit. She bucked back, trying to escape his probing fingertips, but gasping as she forced him deeper than he had gone before. He wrapped his other hand in her hair, pulling her back up hard against his chest as he rode her out, her body rebelling her wishes viciously, her movements making the sex infinitely better. He began to hammer her, over and over, picking up speed. She came, and came again. And again.

She couldn't take much more of this. The first few were utterly mind blowing, but every one after almost hurt. The strength of her orgasms was frightening, as was the utter lack of control she had, but she gave herself to it, trusting him her body, letting him do as he wished. If you want me, I'm yours, she thought.

You poor naive idiot, he thought, tears of frustration streaming down his face. He felt her slip into unconsciousness, and slowed down, before slipping out of her body slowly, lying down next to her. He hated the young ones, but those were the ones he was most drawn to, the ones he wanted most. He couldn't bring himself to take her, to fill himself with her essence as he pumped his body into hers. But oh God, he wanted to.

She stirred, and rolled over to face him, breathing heavily.

"My fucking God, that was the best sex ever!"

He smiled at her, a bit sadly. He was still hungry, and he wanted her soul, but he was in control for now.

"You're... something else. Did you... come?"

He shook his head. She looked away, and he caught her sadness. He reached out, and grabbed her chin between two of his fingers.

"You don't really want me to, do you?" his gaze was level, and she looked away first. She was still breathing heavily, while he was just looking at her. The night was warm, humid, and she noted that he wasn't even hot to touch, let alone sweating. She looked at his eyes, and saw herself reflected in the muted red. She shivered, and felt an aftershock grip her body. She really, Really, wanted him to come, but she was... She didn't really know how she felt. It wasn't exactly scared, or wary. It was like an awareness, an unconscious knowledge of what he was. Succubus, her mind said. But male. What was that called?

"Incubus. A male succubus is called an incubus." He rolled over, away from her. He struggled against himself; he was still rock hard. God, he thirsted for her life.

She rolled over, and hesitantly touched her hands to his shoulder blade, before pulling him closer.

She looked straight at his face. Words escaped her, as again she stared straight into his eyes. She lunged forwards, her mouth hard against his, her body straddling his, her hands wrapping his member, guiding him in. She gasped as he penetrated deeply, taking his whole length. She was tighter than before, her lips swollen. He lost himself, giving himself to her body. He was ready.

He sat up, and grabbed her arms, holding them tightly behind her, making her breasts stick out proudly, hard against his chest. She rammed him into her, harder and harder. He bent his head, and bit her nipple. Hard.

She arched her back, thrusting him in deeper. She realised that he needed her pain, needed the perfect mixture of her pain and pleasure for him to enjoy her, so she cried out into his ear, thrusting him in harder, deeper, her body writhing under his mouth.

His other hand was hard up, between her legs, rubbing at her clit furiously. He held her wrists tightly up behind her back, the angle slightly twisting her arms, but she didn't care. The pain made it build, and build.

She felt it begin, and screamed as he pushed her head back, and bit her throat hard enough to break the skin.

He felt her tighten around him, and felt his own orgasm begin. He could feel it now, her soul. He thrilled it, felt the orgasmic powers flash through her, and could feel her flavour already inside him. He wanted it all.

He took her hands hard again, and pushed her ass hard down onto his cock, driving himself inside her deeper than he ever had been previously. He held her there, feeling her fullness, her vagina twitching around him. She gasped, her pupils dialated. Her face, her soul, was close now.

"Do it!" she whispered. "Take me. Come in me! I want you to!"

He wrapped his hand in her hair, pulling her face even closer.

"I will take your life, you stupid human. Do you not understand?"

He made her come, just using his mind, and watched as her pleasure became too much.

She looked into his eyes, her mouth open, her voice a ragged whisper.

"Take me NOW."

He kissed her as he hadn't before, ramming his cock into her so hard she began to bounce on his body, her body shaking and writhing like a doll. He freed her hands, shoving his own onto her hips, forcing himself deeper and deeper, his mind on his own pleasure. She bit her lip; his cock was too big for this sort of movement, but she could feel it building, the pain grew into overwhelming heat.

He felt her soul shake loose, and he drank deeply, feeling her pulse and twitch around him. His own orgasm began, and he extended himself within her, his come searing, burning. He felt all that she was jerking free, and he knew incredible peace for the first time in months as he ended her life and took her soul. He screamed out; his own pleasure had only just begun.

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