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The air was chilly at night, the autumn weather cool and nice after months of intense heat showering the land. Now the warmth of the sun turned to rain with crisp colors in nature all around. Red, yellow and green dancing all around across the leaves falling from the tall trees.
Even under the moonlight, Karaku could admire the area around him. Silence and a sense of peace enveloping him like a soothing blanket despite the fact he was supposed to be on patrol.
Karaku wasn't worried in the slightest. He was decently experienced as it was, even if he was only a Hinoto rank as of right now. He was climbing the ranks quick enough.
Perhaps not as fast as Sekido and Aizetsu, but he prefers to take it easy. Not be as anal about taking every single assignment without much break time. He wonders if they even sleep anymore between slaying demons and training.
That could never be him. He still has a life to live, damn it! Free days and time off are his bread and butter to keep his strength up when it mattered. At least Urogi shared this mindset.
And that's exactly why Urogi is the coolest brother.
Maybe he should've asked if Urogi wanted to join him tonight, it seemed pretty chill. Only a couple disappearances had happened recently. Karaku is pretty sure it will be an easy kill once he catches the demon possibly lurking around.
If he's lucky, he gets to show off in front of a cute local girl. Impress her with his skill and bravery. It wouldn't be the first time a poor damsel in distress has thrown themselves at him after he so graciously saved her from the clutches of a demon, lest she be devoured until only broken bones remained.
Flash a charming smile, flutter his dark lashes over his piercing emerald green eyes. Offer a simple gesture to help her up with his hand, voice smooth like silk when he asks if she's alright.
They almost always swoon. Falling over for a chance to thank him. And thank him they do, Karaku would never turn down such a kind offer after all.
His twin calls him a manwhore. Aizetsu calls him pathetic and sad. Urogi laughs and shares stories with him, eagerly wanting to hear some of Karaku's own tales back.
Karaku saw nothing wrong with it. Being rewarded for his hard work should be more common, he isn't sure why more slayers don't use it to their advantage. Well, unless they are married or engaged.
But only Tengen was married, at least as far as Karaku can remember. He has only met a few of the hashira, but the flashy sound hashira was well known. Unless somehow Giyuu is secretly married… at this point Karaku wouldn't be too surprised, the guy rarely talks much on himself.
But he has been very good to Aizetsu. Not that surprising. They could probably feel fulfilled in a conversation where neither say shit to each other. A weird sort of friendship, if you asked him.
But whatever made his little brother happy. God knows the dude needs some of that. Aizetsu can be too much of a depressed loser at times, even if Karaku loves him. He really is kind of lame.
Not as lame as Sekido though. Working so hard to become the thunder hashira, a spot currently not filled by anyone. Working hard just for more work, if you ask Karaku.
He was content at a lower rank, but he was planning to get higher regardless. More money, after all. Money meant more sake, more clothes, more women.
The outskirts of the small village was so empty at the hour of the wolf, forest lining the edges. Filling the space with trees instead of people. Perhaps unlikely to find a demon where there are no people, unless it's looking for him.
Most demons seemed rather excited when they saw slayers, unless they were cowards. Or weak.
Karaku kept walking, keeping a casual eye on his environment. Suddenly a cold chill went down his spine. There was no sound to indicate he was no longer alone, no snap of a twig or rustling of leaves.
Just a sharp tingle in his neck, hairs standing up straight to signal something off. Eyes on him. Karaku grips the hilt of his katana and turns, his focus sharpening instantly by instinct.
There was nobody there.
Odd… he couldn't sense anyone. Not a human, and not a demon. And he still felt as if he was being watched. As if he was out of the loop on where the predator was, like stupid prey without proper sense.
Karaku usually had better environmental awareness than this. A bit laid back, sure. But one of his strong suits was the fact he was frequently underestimated by his posture and seemingly lower guard.
This time, Karaku felt like he might actually be at a disadvantage. His gut told him there was danger close by, and yet he couldn't sense it. Or where it could possibly be.
The only times he's heard of something like that is when… no. There was no way. If there was an Upper Rank here, surely there would be more reports of deaths. And they'd have sent a hashira, at the very least. There was never anything in the report of a Kizuki potentially being the demon prowling around.
Karaku swallowed down his slight unease. Fingers tightening around the hilt, evening out his breathing as he concentrated. As long as he stayed calm, he would be fine.
He may not be the strongest wind user, but he was still not dead weight. Or he'd have been killed a long time ago.
“You know, there's more to me than just being a pretty thing to look at. Might as well show yourself. Could be fun.” Karaku put his trademark cocky smirk onto his face. Feigning relaxation and confidence. It usually wasn't fake, although he'd be lying if he said he was fully confident right now.
That uneasiness was still weighing on his chest and abdomen like a heavy blanket. Body feeling less light than usual, a feeling Karaku had always despised. Lightness and flexibility was how he fought best. Rocks in his stomach only made it harder to work.
There was a light chuckle from between the trees. A sweet sounding voice, a woman for sure. Sounding kind of amused and intrigued. Almost gentle in the way the melodious laughter sounded. And yet… so much malice in it too.
A demon.
“My, my… you aren't wrong. You are quite the pretty one.” Your voice was calm, excited almost by the discovery of a slayer who didn't look like he had scarred himself beyond belief.
Karaku's head whipped around to the direction of your voice. Emerald eyes narrowing to see you better, taking in your appearance to gauge the danger level.
You had the appearance of a young looking woman, pretty in a comely type of way. Similar to plenty of the attractive girls around each place he'd been through before. Human in your appearance.
Minus the obvious. The fangs. Pale skin. Your eyes like a predator, sclera discolored and off. But it was your eyes in particular that made Karaku's heart go from heavy with discomfort, to dropping to the ground in terror.
Engravings… in both your irises. Pupils replaced by kanji. Numbered and ranked. Just as he had tried to convince himself was unlikely, yet fate fucked him over anyway. An Upper Rank was here, that was why Karaku had difficulty sensing your presence.
As you stepped closer, he could see more clearly. Throat tightening even further. Upper Four… he would have been fucked with just Upper Six. But four?
Karaku may act a bit like a lazy and cocky asshole, but he was anything but an idiot. No slayer would survive a fight with an upper rank solo, not even a hashira. Even the lowest rank of the upper bracket were sure to fillet you easily and laugh while doing it too.
There's a reason no Upper Rank has been slain in over one hundred years.
Fear struck Karaku deep. His first instinct was to turn and run, if he was being completely honest with himself. Turn heel and bolt away from you as fast as his legs could carry him.
He would be dead meat if he stood his ground. You would kill him with ease, no doubt.
… he would be dead should you give chase too. Except that death is considerably less honorable. Karaku would die like a coward. A pussy. Stabbed through the back like some dumbass who bit off more than he could chew and paid the price.
It would be a miracle if Sekido even chose to acknowledge him as his brother after that. Most likely, he would be disowned in his death for his cowardice and failure to uphold his vows to do everything to protect the weak.
Damn it. Karaku never even joined the Corps to necessarily ‘protect the weak’! He did it because it was expected! Because their grandfather was a hashira, as was their father. Because Sekido was determined, because Karaku wanted attention and praise just as much as he felt good about killing demons.
“Quiet, are we?” Your voice purred. Legs moving like a prowling predator, smile widening to show those sharp fangs. Made to tear flesh apart with ease. “You seem a little frightened.”
Karaku grit his own teeth. Eyebrows quirking down as he kept his big smirk plastered on his face. Showing fear would be embarrassing too, if he acted like a little pussy and got gutted anyway he would never let himself live it down.
Or… die it down? In the afterlife?
“Frightened? Oh, no no. Only thing scary here is the size of your tits. Does it hurt jumping around, demon?” Karaku knew most women tended to get pretty pissed when he taunted them like this, or blatantly sexualized them.
He usually chose to avoid it with humans. Not exactly the greatest strategy. Now, demons? All bets off. Especially because it often made them angry. And angry meant emotional.
Emotional meant more likely to slip up.
But you didn't get mad. You laughed instead. Hands coming up to cup your own breasts through your clothing, squeezing them. Presenting them.
“You like them?” You pushed your boobs up, palming them as you rolled them around. Showing off the lack of undergarments. “Quite handy for comfort when bored. I do love my own assets.”
Normally, Karaku would be quite excited for a woman to be so eagerly showing off her chest to him. Practically offering him to touch, an invite.
He felt only disgust. A demon. A cannibalistic monster who no doubt tortured and maimed people in mass. Despite Karaku's main reason to join the Corps being primarily for his own reasons, it never lessened his disdain for demons.
Unable to hide the curl of his lips, you laughed once more. His face going from cocky to revulsion, rousing more delight within you. Always such a treat to play with the more experienced prey, after all. Slayers thought themselves so much more capable. So much better.
But at the end of the day, they were still human. Designed to be a demons meal. To be their toy until their worth runs out, only to be consumed anyway.
“Shut up.” Karaku scoffed. Annoyed his bait hadn't worked like it typically did. Instead you leant into it, as if knowing his game and playing him right back. “I'd rather die than touch you unless it's to slice your head off. I have standards, you know.”
“Says the man wearing such a shameless uniform. Tell me, do you enjoy being looked at?” You ask, watching Karaku tense and glare. His grip on his katana looking near painful. Too hard to be efficient.
There was a beat of silence, before Karaku snapped back. Not at all pleased he's being told off for his choice in attire by a demon. By a female demon at that, one who was the shameless one.
He typically enjoyed women like that. If only human girls were more open like this. It must be a demon thing, to be so expectant that you can do whatever you want.
“I wear what works best. So what?” Karaku rolled his shoulder slightly. Suddenly all too aware his uniform showed more than the standard. Taking inspiration from the sound hashira, his sleeves were bare. All the way up to his shoulder.
No haori to cover it either. The upper half of his uniform just a bit too short, showing the tiniest bit of midriff.
It wasn't that exposed. Just more than the typical slayer might show. At least the standard male one…
“Let's see how well it works then, boy.” You say, before suddenly sprinting at him. Attempting to slash his throat in one go.
Karaku barely had time to react to your speed. Faster then any demon he had previously encountered, no surprise there. Like a flash—so quick you'd be gone before a simple blink was completed.
He barely managed to side step out of your way.
A distinct feeling in his soul tells him you let him dodge. It was only barely, but somehow it felt unearned.
Despite that, Karaku had to focus. He positioned himself better as his feet planted into the ground. Breathing in deeply as his eyes focused the best he could on his target.
‘Sixth form… Black Wind Mountain Mist’ Karaku reminds himself within his own mind, not wasting his air to speak. As he attacks back, rotating his body just right. The velocity of his attack sending chimes of air flowing between you as his blade comes closer.
The arching slash barely got close, but your happy smile is burned into his mind regardless. It felt as if you were testing him. Playing around like he was a puppet, and your strings were for your entertainment.
Karaku saw your smug look. The look of a woman—no, a demon. A demon who could end him right now. But was dragging it out. Making it fun.
Part of him wanted to just scream at you to finish it and be done. But he refused.
Damn it. He was fucked. This was his death. Karaku felt it hit him deep… that awful feeling of knowing he won't make it. Tears almost clawed at his eyes, but he forced them down.
Using the forth form as you jumped, Karaku hoped he might just hit you. A futile wish. You pounced on him before he could even finish his technique. A startled cry coming out of him as your body pinned him down.
Your strong grip slamming his wrists. Weight holding him down like he was nothing. It almost felt ridiculous… you hadn't even needed your Blood Demon Art to get him down.
Expecting a bite… Karaku closed his eyes. Death was expected. You don't exactly get into this profession without that idea, regardless of your confidence.
So when he felt harsh kisses down his neck, Karaku moaned. Pain and disgust filling him.
“What—!” Immediately, he thrashed in your grip. Snarling at you as he attempted to kick you off. But you were like a stone wall against his feeble attempts.
Not even effected. As if each hit was a paw from a kitten. Instead of a punch from a grown man.
“Damn it! Get off me!” Karaku yelped loudly. Pushing your head even as your face latched on his neck. Each kiss painfully felt through his nerves.
A revolting sense of sensations running through him. Wet and sloppy all across his skin, like a slimey monster about to devour him. He felt everything. Face twisting into pure disgust. Nothing felt good.
“S-Stop it!” Karaku's wails as he flailed beneath you were almost too cute. Feeble attempts to escape your hold nearly laughable, he could barely even move an inch.
His young and handsome face pinned under you twisted into something even more beautiful, as the fear of death turned into something even worse. The fear of being disgraced and used.
What most demon slayers saw as the highest of dishonorability.
You thought him lucky. He is male, after all. He can probably lie and get away with it once you're finished. If you let him go at all, that is. Claim innocence and move on as if nothing happened, play the part of a soldier who simply got away.
You weren't going to let this one leave alive. A beautiful slayer, so open and handsome too? What a treat. You hardly got them like this anymore. Too many vile or plain ones. Not as striking. Not as delectable and gorgeous.
Only a fool would ever waste such an opportunity. You were no fool.
“Stop? Oh… you think this is too much?” Your voice reverberated against his neck. Shockwaves of uncomfortable sensations shooting through his body as you held him down with ease. “You'll totally crack by the main event then. Let's hope you do better than that! Or I might just have misjudged you…”
Pulling Karaku back by the legs, you dragged him across the ground. Further away from his dropped sword. Hands fumbling to grab it even through your grip.
When you grab it yourself theres a second of short relief. Maybe Karaku could somehow manage to snatch it off you? Unlikely, sure. But better then nothing.
That hope quickly got crushed. As you properly pinned his wrists above his head, getting between his legs. Bringing the blade—his own blade, green and grey steel slicing the cloth of his uniform. First at his chest. Eerily close to his skin.
Karaku attempts to wiggle despite the risk of being cut. The cold feeling of his katana dragging across his body like an icy snake, sinister and deadly. Ready to push down at any moment and finish the job.
“Stop it! You fucking demon cunt!” Karaku had lost all sense of even trying to stay sensible. Insults hurling freely in his panic. No fool, he knew what demons did.
The agonizing realization hit him harder than he would like. As a man, he hardly envisioned himself in such a position. And yet the fear of it now struck like never before.
Being violated by a demon. A common fear for women, too common a fear. Yet one not typically shared with their male counterparts. Why is that? Is it not as talked about? Does it happen less?
Probably.
But less is not never.
Tears filled the corner of Karaku's eyes. Prickling at the seams of them, wetting his long lashes as he kicks and writhes like a helpless worm. A pathetic being unable to fight back against the apex predator.
“No!”
“Yes… a pretty thing like you, what else could you want?” Your voice is sickly sweet, laced with sadism as you sliced his uniform open. Revealing a lean and toned body underneath. Muscles tensing and rippling from the cold air.
Karaku whimpered despite himself. He wasn't as stubborn as his twin. He wasn't as brave. This was his worst nightmare, and it was hitting him like a train at full force. Legs twitch as he tries to push you off, fruitless and pitiful really.
“Get off!” Karaku hissed at you, eyes blazing with despair and fear as the cold nighttime breeze struck his skin. Sending goosebumps over his surface and making him feel even more tense and frigid. Struggling in your grip as you held him as easily as one held a fussy kitten.
Karaku felt humiliation burn his insides.
He has been pinned by men before. In sparring, even his own brothers on the occasional play fight. Bigger and stronger males holding him down until he tapped out.
That was other men.
You were a fucking woman. So soft in frame, curves and all. Long hair framing your face in loose locks and plump lips to enhance your smile. That wicked smile masking your evil nature.
A woman. Easily holding Karaku down with your two hands, his own body struggling as it might, was still helpless against your strength. Even knowing you were a demon of high caliber, it stirred something akin to embarrassment inside Karaku.
His male ego bruised by the scene. Even as fear spiked in his blood stream, that bruise felt large and tender. A position no man would think themselves in, not in a million years. Not typically.
Damn it all.
“Do keep struggling, it's much cuter when you do.” Your mocking voice rings out as you throw the katana away. Sending it flying into the forest, piercing the base of a tree like a dart. So seamless and effortless. Not even on purpose. You hardly noticed.
Karaku gasped as you tore the remnants of his uniform off his body. Cut to shreds by your calculated slices. Now easy to pull apart, no doubt it would have been a simple task with only your hands.
The use of his own weapon must have been just to humiliate him further. To show just how weak he was compared to you, as if Karaku wasn't already painfully aware.
“The truth is… I like when they resist.” You drawled, voice dragging each word like a mocking sneer. Yet so sensual at the same time. Eyes on Karaku's wiggling body, his legs attempting to clamp down despite your firm body planted between them. “No use… you remind me of a little bug. Always writhing…”
Your free hand which had been used to undress him now pushed one of legs more open, as easy as opening a door. Fingers gliding up his toned thigh.
“Just kill me…” Karaku demanded through hitched breaths. Feeling your digits close in on his core, cold touch sending even more shivers through him. “Don't you dare—”
“I have dared. And I will keep daring.” You cut him off with a simple statement of fact. This was not new to you, not new to any demon. Your lust building as you drank in Karaku's beauty further.
Body so slender yet so built. A dancers build, a fighter with an elegant form. Made to bend and not break. His warm skin matching the soft brown of his complexion, a beautiful match to his dark locks and emerald eyes. Now so watery with fear.
Fear was truly your aphrodisiac. Especially the fear you consumed from men, when they realized how weak they truly were once beaten down with ease.
“You're not hard.” You murmured. A little perplexed by Karaku's lack of erection even through fear and adrenaline. Most men took very little to elicit the desired reaction.
“Fuck you…” Karaku growled. Refusing to give in to his body's natural reaction. Using his total concentration breathing to direct his blood evenly through his stream, even as his heart aches to beat rapidly. Lungs screaming to inhale as much as they can. Brain running rampant with panic.
He had to focus. Don't give the demon what she wants. Doing so meant losing even more than he already has.
“No.” Your voice pitched, smile so wide it looked like it might split your face apart if it went any further. The epitome of smiling from ear to ear.
A haunting stare that made Karaku tremble even more.
“I'm the one doing the fucking… don't get it twisted, little slayer.” Each word you said sent more waves of revulsion through Karaku. More fear.
Nothing sent as much disgust through him as the sudden intrusion, however.
Your finger pushing into his ass dry, breaching his tight and untouched walls. A loud cry of pain slipping past Karaku's lips as he felt you force yourself into him by hand.
“N-No!” Karaku whined as his body tensed in an attempt to push you out. But his clenching only pushed your invading digit further in, the pain and shame drenching him like water.
Worse yet when you shoved another in right after. Making Karaku scream properly this time. Even just two fingers felt like it was splitting him open through the middle, tears falling freely as you pushed deeper.
It hurt so badly. It was shameful how much it fucking hurt, Karaku had survived final selection, survived exhausting training and fought countless demons.
Yet a pair of fingers inside his ass made him howl in agony.
Body writhing as he sobbed when you pushed deeper, up to your knuckles. Curling your fingers to hit a spot within Karaku that sent jolts of painful pleasure through every nerve.
Mouth falling open in a wanton moan, more tears overfill his green eyes. The mortification of hearing his own pleasured noises making his heart lurch and his stomach twist.
“No… no…!” Karaku begged, pleaded with you not to. To not force this pleasure upon him. To shame him with the knowledge a demon made him feel anything good alongside the pain.
But you had already clocked his sweet point deep inside him, determined to get him hard by any means to use him as intended. Slayer or not, you knew men were easy. With enough knowledge of their bodies, anything was possible.
You would be gentle. Not like the men you'd fist up to your joint, clavicle straining against your effort, burst them from the inside out just to get off on their screams. No, you wanted to enjoy this one.
Karaku bucked his hips against you as you fingered him, the dry feel of the penetration too much to bear. The uncut scrape of sharp nails digging into his tender insides as your fingers pressed down on his prostate.
“It hurts! Stop!” His pleads came falling out past his lips so easily now, blabbering like a fool as he scrambled to free himself. Cheeks wet and salty. “Fuck! Get the hell off me!”
You ignored him, feeling the warm trickle of blood coating your fingers. The desire to finger fuck the pretty boy harder stirred inside you. Your sadistic side rearing it's head further, itching and growling to make him bleed around you as so many in the past have. Make him paint you in red and fill the air with the score of his cries.
Deciding against it… you retract your nails carefully, making your fingers more blunt and smooth inside of him. Part of you wanted to destroy him, but he was a slayer. Perhaps not as prized as a hashira, but no newbie.
Breaking him too hard would be no fun. Not yet.
Karaku gasped as he felt your fingers massage his prostate more properly. No claw-like sharpness digging into his walls. His eyes squeezing shut as his whimpers turn to moans, even through the pain as a third intrusion joins. Filling him and stretching him more than he thought he could handle.
“Nghh… ahh!” Karaku arched against your hand, mind going blank as you thrust into him. Deliberately hitting him right where it mattered. Causing stars to swim across his vision, every inch of his body on fire.
Concentration slipping away like sand through his fingers. His cock hardening as his body responds to each thrust, each curl and rub. Your fingers working like an expert through his noisy protests.
“Stop… stop it!” Karaku wasn't sure if he was sobbing more from the forced pleasure, the humiliation, or the pain. The anger and despair of knowing he was being used by a demon.
It was only your fingers… that had to mean he was okay. It wasn't like it was actual sex—not yet anyway. If he's lucky he could maybe free himself before it comes to that.
Karaku knows only an idiot would hope for such a thing. Or even believe it. Yet it's the thing he clings to, when his body betrays him to give into the physical sensations he so often chases on his own. Pleasure was a beast he often indulged in, often sought out.
Now it felt like iron hot branding instead of the comforting heat of a fireplace.
You chuckled at Karaku's relentless protests. Common for many, even if the majority freeze and cry. Most slayers had fight. You enjoyed that more, the chase. The struggle.
“Oh but not yet. I haven't caught my ride yet.” You watch with a glint in your eyes at Karaku's erection, his cock was pretty just like he was. And not small either.
Good. Nothing more disappointing than a handsome man who isn't well endowed. It felt like a scam more often than not.
Those ones always get it up the ass. Whatever is available, typically your hand to feel the tightness. At least it got you wet by the end regardless, even if less enjoyable.
Karaku's muscles strain against your three fingers, a yelp of pain tearing at his throat as his sore hole pulsates around you. Blood dripping despite your act of retracting your nails. There was damage down there, he could feel it.
It hurt like a bitch. The bitch being you, in particular.
“I c-can't…” Karaku felt pathetic, really he did. But it hurt so badly. The pain couldn't override the pleasure either, his dick was hard against his bare abs. Leaking against his skin like he was somehow wanting this. “P-Please…”
Please just kill him. If he's found like this, corpse half eaten and naked. Blood between his thighs out of his puffy hole and precum staining his abdomen…
Karaku can't even think about it without wanting to cry harder. Shame would be brought upon his family name, more shame than him being a promiscuous manwhore. It would only be solidified that he's the pleasure seeking mongrel everyone sees him as.
“Should I make you cum just from my fingers?” You asked, speeding up the movements of your digits inside him. Continued gasps and wails escaping Karaku faster then he can breathe. Thighs trembling besides you.
His head throws back against the grassy ground as his chest rises, hair messing up even more around his clammy face. A loud moan seizing him as you feel his ass clenching impossibly tight around your fingers just as you push against his prostate.
Cum shooting out of his throbbing cock as the climax washes down on him like a cold waterfall. White coating his brown skin with his own traitorous fluids as he shook with small tremors.
“Aww… look at you, you look so cute all fucked out.” You chuckled, mocking him as you straddled his hips. Moving your silk kimono up to feel the skin on skin contact. A purr in your throat as you ground against him.
Blood soaking your fingers, you put them into your mouth as Karaku's hands weakly try to push you off. Tongue flicking over his blood, his taste just… divine.
You haven't had a human taste this good in years, and he isn't even a marechi. Gorgeous and tasty, a dangerous combination.
“Time for some real fun, don't you agree?” You plop your fingers out of your mouth, saliva replacing the blood now. As you grab Karaku's wrists to pin them down.
Not that you had to. He wouldn't be able to push you anyway. It was simply more fun to make them feel extra helpless.
Karaku shook his head, still reeling from his orgasm. Both the overwhelming intensity of it, but also the deep agony of realization. “No… you don't—you don't understand…”
“Oh, I do.” Came your reply. As you shifted your fundoshi to the side, without pulling it off completely. If worst came to worst, just absorb the thing.
“I know all about your organization and their rules.” You take a hold of Karaku's still wet cock, a small mewl escaping the man as you push him against the entrance of your pussy. “They're not very kind, are they? Even to their own.”
Karaku hitched and groaned as he felt you slide down onto him. Impaling yourself with his cock, wetness tight yet eager. Tears building up all over again as he felt more defeated then ever.
He could maybe write away your painful fingers as nothing but simple torture. But not this. This was cut and dry, it was intercourse. It was you wanting to fuck him until he died, if he had to guess. Use him like a toy without regard for his life or well-being.
“No—no please…” Karaku's voice felt hoarse and strained, even to his own ears. The crying and screaming earlier having torn his cords to shreds, orgasm only amplifying it.
He can't be used by a demon… he'd never be seen the same, even in death. And he isn't seen in the best light as it stands already.
“Begging only turns me on more, slayer.” You pushed all the way down on him, taking him in fully. A low, pleasured growl reverberating in your chest as you felt the fullness. “But do keep trying to plead your case.”
Karaku couldn't help himself, another moan slipping out of him as you moved on top of him. The terror he felt when his hips actually snapped up to meet yours, mind screaming at him to focus and stop.
But he couldn't focus his breathing again like before. Your hands on his wrists, your weight on top of his. Your cunt wrapped around his dick—it was taking all his focus. Your touch like frostbite on his skin.
So cold… yet it burned through him as if it were scalding hot fire. Searing into his nerves and demanding all attention to the pain.
And the pleasure.
“Your moans are so pretty… just like you.” You speak with a twisted form of fascination. Having not fucked a slayer in a while, none appealed much. But this one was the most gorgeous male you had seen, in years even.
The way his emerald eyes fluttered and filled with tears, stirring arousal through you as you slammed down on him. Drawing out more moans, some out of pain and some out of pleasure.
Overstimulated and overwhelmed. He clearly was not used to the way a demon fucked—of course not. He would be unaware of such a thing, the speed and stamina far exceeding any pathetic and weak human girl.
As you groan when his cock hits you deep, prodding at your cervix and stretching your inner walls, you felt bliss seep into your bones. Even more so by the sobbing coming from the slayer—whom you have not yet even found the name of.
It didn't matter… when had human names mattered at all to you?
“Ngh—you…” Karaku attempted to writhe once more beneath you, vision so blurry that he can barely make out your face through his tears and hair. His body hurt in more ways than one.
And he was going to cum again. From a demon riding him senseless after tearing his ass. It would be rock bottom for him, as good as dead.
If he wasn't already.
Struggling in your grip as the wet sounds of your rough pace echoed through the empty forest. Even wildlife silent in the wake of the abomination taking place. The disgust Karaku felt was buried by horror and coated in physical pleasure.
“Nooooo…” He could only manage a drawn out protest as he felt his climax rapidly approaching. Almost painful with how hard you were using him, a waterfall of tears streaming down his face as he shook hard under you.
Filling you with his seed. A demon, an Upper Rank at that.
You laughed through your moans as you felt Karaku come undone by your work once more. His twisted expression of physical strain and defeat is enough to send you over the edge yourself. Clenching around him like a vice, causing a pained whimper to escape Karaku as your release milks his already overstimulated body.
You sank your teeth deep into Karaku's neck as you came, his sudden scream of pain was music to your ears. Heightening every sensation when you taste that sweet nectar out of his body. Dancing on your tongue in a flavorful explosion.
Pulling back slowly, you lick your lips to make sure not a single drop is going to waste. Sharp eyes meeting hazy emerald ones, so out of it now.
Still beautiful.
“Too much already? Only on so little too.” You can't help but take joy in the way he lay there. Body still intertwined with your own, buried deep inside.
Karaku says nothing, twitching and spasming slightly on the ground. Blood still dripping, cum still coating both himself and your insides. His mind in itself as reality really hit him that his life was fully over.
Even if by some miracle he got away. There was nothing left for him. Would there be a way to hide this… to escape the scrutiny, the scorn? The shame his family would feel, the humiliation and hate he would suffer.
The image of his brothers flash in Karaku's mind. He hopes they never find out, that you'll eat him whole and leave nothing left to be found.
But luck really wasn't on Karaku's side today. No God watching over or listening to his silent prayers.
“I think I'll keep you.” Your voice is more chirp this time as you get off him. Your silky attire slipping back down to cover your legs. “You're too handsome to waste so soon.”
Karaku felt cold.
“I haven't had a pet in decades. You better not disappoint me, you know. I have standards.”