The Demon

Feet skidded on the concrete as she took the corner too fast. Her hand reached out to grab the edge of the building in an effort to keep her balance and twist her momentum. The shadow, the thing, was quickly gaining on her. She knew it without looking back. She could almost sense the beast four feet behind her but she refused to look. She kept her eyes focused on her feet in order to avoid tripping over the trash cans and other obstacles scattered across the city sidewalk.

She was only eighteen but she had done everything right; travel with a group, only through well lit, public, places, carry mace. None of it had helped. She and her friend Vanessa had thought they knew the guys well but they had been wrong. The moment they crossed under the bridge, into the east side of the park, the guys and a few extra friends had grabbed them both. Before either of them knew what was happening she was being held by two big men and Vanessa's throat had been slit, her body thrown into the center of some weird circle drawn in the dirt.

She had been terrified, but she didn't know if the group intended the same for her or a much more violent and prolonged fate. From the leers and glances of many of the men the later was far more likely. She'd always thought Vanessa was the more attractive, but these men never had a second thought of which they would kill and which. . .she couldn't even think of the alternative. She stood, completely frozen with panic, unthinking. Bile burned in the back of her throat and in her chest.

Then it came. It billowed from the ground, enveloping the body that had been Vanessa and rising like a mist until it was taller then everyone present. It had no color, no shape, no form. One moment it was roughly humanoid and pitch black, the next it sprouted wings and changed to a deep red, then it was on all fours, without wings, and was a midnight blue. Each form flowed smoothly into the next, the only constants its dark coloration and the palpable terror that radiated from it. All were now frozen in the grip of that terror.

Suddenly a claw (tentacle?) lashed out and parted the abdomen of one of the guys. His reaction would have been almost funny had the scene not been so terrible. His head slowly sank and confused eyes looked down to see his organs flowing from his body. His gaze returned to the beast, eyes widening. Then he screamed. As if a catalyst, everyone was free to move. Some of the gang charged the thing. Some ran. One of the two holding her dropped to his knees bawling while the other let go of her and began to scratch at his own eyes.

Still overcome by the demon's presence she stumbled back a few steps. Those that attacked, those that ran, all shared the same fate; death. At some point she tripped and fell hard on her rear, but still she continued to back away. Each man seemed to die differently, each from a different cause. There were only two left and it would turn on her. Something snapped within her and she was once again free to move. She ran.

Now it was catching up to her. It flowed, ran, slithered and flew after her. She watched her feet and ran like she never had before, like she had never imagined possible. She turned another corner, hoping the change would cause it to overshoot and buy her more time. But where would she run to? There was no one who could save her from this! Maybe! Heros saved people all the time, was it too much to ask that she be saved?

She turned another corner and instinct called to her to look up. She slid and barely avoided running into the wall at the end of the alley. She spun to get away but it was there. A bestial right hand shot forward and grabbed her neck. Choking for air she realized that no hero was going to find her. She looked into its eyes and knew she was dead.

Strangely she realized that it had eyes all of the sudden. It was no longer a formless, constantly changing, mass of shadow substance. It now held a stable physical form. It was roughly humanoid but it had no neck. The head blended smoothly into its powerful shoulders. Its arms were too long to be mistaken for human but were corded with muscle upon muscle. A single bat-like wing sprouted from one side of its back while the other was a mass of writhing tentacles. It stared at her with yellow eyes. One thing hadn't changed, it still radiated pure terror.

Its other arm raised above its head and came slashing down. She closed her eyes to the inevitable. She felt the claws tear at her, but strangely no pain followed. Air whispered through her constricted throat as she cracked one eye. It was still staring, its hand slightly off to the side contemplating it's next strike. An oily tongue crawled forth to wet bloated lips.

Something felt wrong with the way it was toying with her. Her eyes drifted down and her body once more fossilized. With one stroke it had torn the front of her t-shirt and jeans to shreds. They barely clung to her frame, revealing the white cotton panties and maroon bra she had thrown on before going out tonight. It's free hand flicked out and deftly sliced the tattered clothes free. For some absurd reason the thought of being naked before this thing filled her with a deeper dread then even that of death. She must not let it see her flesh!

Her hands came up. She tried to pry its clawed hand open. She moved it an inch, just enough to breath freely, before it froze once more. The demon's arm lifted and suddenly her grasping hands were all that kept it from choking her once more. She tried to kick at it but its other arm casually moved forward and a giant hand grabbed her waste and hips all at once. She continued to wiggle futilely against it's grip but a slight separation of its hands nearly tore her in half.

She felt a claw tracing along her panty. He was digging in just enough to be felt but not enough to damage the fabric. It reached her pubic hair and teased it with little swirls through the cloth before traveling down. Inch by agonizing inch it crept closer and closer. Now she could feel the razor sharp talon cutting effortlessly through the cotton. A single precise incision to expose her virginity. Surgical skill that cut only fabric and never once touched her skin.

Her body fell limp, only her arms still straining in order to support her weight. The simple action of using a finger, from a hand that even still held her fast, to precisely slit her last remaining protection demonstrated the extend of her helplessness. As soon as she stopped she felt her feet once again touch pavement. Her hands remained clasped by her neck for security but she could breath easily once more. It's hand fell away from her midriff while the other almost gently began pushing her slowly backwards. She walked with its direction until her back pressed against the brick wall. She heard, more then felt, the claws of the hand around her neck sink into the wall behind her. She couldn't understand why it's finger and thumb were at such an odd angle until it wrenched it's own hand, causing the vorpal weapons to break free, trapped in modern stone. Her neck was now immobilized by the threat of self-decapitation.

The demon stepped back to admire it's handiwork. Her arms dropped, one pressing against her bra while the other hand slid between her legs to feebly cover the exposed flesh. It grinned at her modesty and stepped forward batting at her hands with a declawed finger. Her hands immediately returned to their places. Another claw sank into the wall and broke off. He lifted her right wrist to barely touch the claw with one hand while the other rested against the opposite side of her wrist. The message was clear, if she didn't place her body as it instructed it would do it for her, risking severe pain or injury in the process. Her left hand dropped to her side and it stepped back grinning once more. It had enough claws to hold her neck and all four limbs if need be.

As it stared at her the perceptive part of her mind, what little still worked through the mounting anticipatory fear, noticed that the most recent claw had been dug in angled slightly downward. She could actually grab it from a certain angle and use it to pull herself upward. Unfortunately the claws at her neck prevented that motion.

It stepped forward once more. The talon that casually slid up her cheek was oddly warm. The brief caress sent an involuntary shudder through her nerves. Continuing to press the flat of its natural blade against her skin the claw began to descend. As it reached her neck another shudder raced through her. When it reached her nipple a wave of shivers wracked her. It was revulsion against the touch of the beast. Like lightning the thing's claw flashed in a circle. Another precision cut.

Her eyes turned down to see what it had flayed. At the bottom edge of her vision she saw the perfect circle of one of her cups falling to the ground and the pink nipple erect in the slight breeze. He ran the dull reverse of his surgical tool against the sensitive underside of the small protrusion and she gasped. This time her desperate mind could no longer assume the mantle of disgusted victim. Her mind rebelled against the truth that she had gasped in the pleasure of the contact. Even as her mind fought to find a safe reality his claw struck again and another circle of cloth fell, revealing her other breast. The cuts he made continued to hold her large breasts high while forcing them forward slightly, thrusting her nipples towards him suggestively.

The same claw trailed leisurely down her side. Where were the people? It wasn't late at night and there should have been pedestrians and cars wandering past the mouth of the shallow alley. Someone to whom she could scream to for futile assistance. She opened her mouth to scream anyway, in the hopes that anyone nearby would react. Only a gasp escaped her lips as his tool began to trace the lower seam of her panties, trailing along the sensitive skin where her leg met her hip. He crouched as his finger dove lower until he had passed too close by tender lips. Once past her rear hole, protected still by her pillowy butt, his finger crossed to the other side. He switched hands so quickly her body never noticed, it was her eyes that revealed the change as he began to stand, his finger sliding along a mirror path.

Her body began to shake slightly. Traitorous loins sparked and warmth began to spread outward. She was moaning by the time he reached her opposite hip. His eyes locked with hers. Silently her eyes pleaded for him, it, to stop. His mouth opened in a silent laugh as his finger wandered across her stomach, just under the elastic band of her only protection, finishing where his other finger had begun.

Cool air played across flesh inflamed by lust. The opposing sensations forced another gasp even as her mind registered the newest horror. He wasn't merely seducing her with his sensual touch, drawing forth need through treacherous instinct, he had cut away the entire front of her clothing. From his vantage she now wore nothing but straps, outlining and emphasizing everything he sought.

His partially declawed hand reached for a nipple as his other sank into the folds between her legs. Her right hand shot out, grabbing the errant claw and using the leverage to allow her to squirm and buck away from him. He had yet to penetrate her but as the back of his talon brushed between her legs, across her soft mound, pure excitement raced through her. She had to stop him or her body would give what her mind and soul refused. He jumped back quickly, claws raking the air successfully avoiding damage to his captive.

A single claw pierced the air and waived back and forth like a teacher scolding a child. She stopped moving, carefully watching the razor edge an inch from her face.. He brought the blade down to her left knee, placing it gently on the inside. She ignored his light tap to raise her leg to the side. Again his mouth opened in silent laughter. With practiced ease his finger lifted her leg, despite her every effort to fight the motion, until it was straight out to the side, leg dangling limp from her knee in surprise. His other hand stabbed forward leaving another claw and pinning her leg in place. She could work her leg free with a little effort but knew a second claw would be in place, pinning her leg, before she could finish the movement. Better to hope for a distraction.

She used her right hand's grip to shift herself slightly, making the contorted leg more comfortable. As she was just about to settle confidently into her new position she felt a familiar weight tapping against the inside of her other leg. Eyes wide she pushed and pulled with her secured arm and leg in order to raise her free one at his direction. When it was roughly level with her other leg he used the last talon on his free hand. She was shaking, her legs spread wide, hanging from the wall.

He stabbed a sixth blade into the brick for her left hand. She grabbed it, grateful to spread the weight more evenly throughout the awkward position. Both of his hands reached forward, each taking a talon securing her neck, and ripped them free. Her head sagged forward, desperate for a full breath unconcerned with razor edges. She was no longer pinned to the wall, there was now hope for escape! As her eyes fell forward, drifting down with the weight of her head, panic bloomed anew. He had placed her on the wall so that her legs met at the exact height that an organ began to appear from his pseudo-flesh.

She began to leap free of the wall but strong hands grasped her shoulders and pushed her back, knocking the wind from her lungs. As she gasped for oxygen his claws tapped in time against the bricks next to her ear. The threat had an unexpected effect. She felt the small warmth in her core suddenly burst. Lungs seized then fluttered. Electricity arced from her groin and she gasped in a breath less of desperation then desire. She felt the moisture flowing from her in anticipation.

Tears rolled down her cheeks at her body's betrayal.

Blurred eyes didn't see the clawless hand reach for her nipple, the single safe finger of the other hand hovering over her moist lust or the oily tongue snake towards her bare breast. All three struck her, unawares, at once. The tri-poled surge wracked her body. His tongue played lightly across a nipple. His rough pinching and pulling on her other nipple created a disturbing and powerful counterpoint to the smooth, constant pressure he applied between her legs. She heard herself moaning from the pleasure she tried to deny.

A sharp pinch and twist and somehow even pure pain transformed into greater pleasure. His steady caress sped up, circling her jewel. The pressure increased slightly, causing the loose skin protecting her sensitive mound to shift aside. He traced its base, pressing harder, progressing faster. Her moans turned to screams as the exquisite ecstasy became nearly unbearable. Her body yearned for more while her mind was lost in a chemical fog. Virgin muscles pulsed seeking his strength. She twisted and writhed, instinctively both seeking and avoiding the intensity he wrought. In all her years she had never been brought this far. No boy or man had the desire to teach her this and her being had known to deny in revenge. This being only did it to draw forth and despoil her but her mind was beyond reason, adrift on pure sensation.

Her screams were constant. Her sweet cream flowed fiercely even as her muscles grasped and pulled at air, seeking to draw him in and draw his very essence forth. He had long passed the moment he needed, now he reveled in the fruitless addiction he could create. How could she want to ever touch a man after suffering this powerlessness? Yet she would constantly crave the heights she knew her body could bring her to. This was the devotion which too few of his kind demonstrated, the attention to detail. Her hips thrusting desperately for his shaft, giving herself to him, would be enough for them.

It was time. He stepped back for a moment. The briefest of pauses and her body relaxed by only the tiniest fraction as she struggled to catch her breath. That relaxation was the salt in the wound. While he caressed her, before, he gauged her, now he was the exact size to slide smoothly and quickly in without obstacle. Relaxed nerves and muscles screamed in denial. Her body froze as she came. He pulled out, dragging across every nerve in the core of her being and her climax doubled on top of itself. As he forced his way roughly back in her body felt ready to combust. He wrenched himself free and her body began to acclimate to the new heights which he had brought her, as he knew she would. He had brought her three times, so quickly they felt as one. As he pressed himself deeper within her his probing finger found her sensitive and moist. Discreetly he filled both of her most exquisite holes and she screamed. A fourth.

He let his power build up within him.

Suddenly, amidst the timeless beauty something changed. He had already taken something precious from her, driving her to give it freely, as he had done to women beyond counting. Now, as nature abhors a vacuum, he poured himself into her. In this moment he was vulnerable but it was a perfect arrangement as her body demanded him and her mind could no longer resist. His essence would bind her to him even after death.

"NO!" His eyes flew wide. Clenching muscles pulled on him, milking his very essence. He could not pull free! He was desperate to discover his mistake, then he found it. Her soul resisted still, not content to be submerged as was her mind, it resisted in the only way possible, by drawing his power into herself. He pumped frantically, trying to pull out only to be drawn back in farther. She reached greater heights still as he thrust his entire being into her.

Time flowed beyond her comprehension while he filled her as no mortal ever could. She knew now his plan and he was right, she would forever crave these heights only to be denied. She could safely join with others but it would never be the same. With her new power it would be simple to bring herself once again to this level but only through the act of completely consuming another. Such a path would turn her into nothing more then a shadow of him. She knew this and so much more as she came to herself, hanging limply from the spikes in the wall, the last remaining proof that Tral'zla'thor, chaotic demon of change, ever existed.