Sephalla My Nightmare Ch 08

***The characters referenced in this story are Sixth-Formers, aged 18, or they are teachers. No character is any younger than 18***

*

It's a little weird, walking beside Seph. Going into school with her, all eyes on us. Not because I'm ashamed to be seen with her, nor because of any reluctance to be so public about things between us, but just because of how dreamlike it feels.

'We got English together at second period, right?' she says, coming to a halt at the central clearing around which all of the main buildings orbit. I'll never tire of her voice, effortlessly sultry, feminine yet possessing of a gravelly intonation. 'Guess I'll see you then?'

Sephalla looks momentarily awkward, unsure of what to do. Drop-dead gorgeous as always, with her punk-goth chic, all those dark colours complementing her dark blue fur and that ever-vibrant mane of azure fire. Her cropped jacket is some kind of false leather -- leather being a bit of an unpleasant concept in Wildenarth -- with metal studs across the shoulders, and a general threatening vibe about it. Beneath the jacket is a perennially tight t-shirt -- I don't think it's possible to have one that isn't, given the sheer size of her breasts -- that rides up to hint at beautiful belly definition, and those characteristic jeans shorts which bulge at the crotch, the leggings torn off for the sake of style just below her groin.

To look up at her -- I always have to, given the massive disparity in our sizes -- is mostly to get an eyeful of gigantic titty, of which I'll doubtless get a faceful later. But then there's her piercing beauty, anthropomorphic equid pseudo-muzzle, backwards-facing horns and eyes like molten coals. Hair like living azure flame, a "mane" with a mind of its own, contributing that fringe she so often has to knock aside. Full womanly lips, lacquered in metallic black, horse-like snout ending in lustrous darkness. And for all her size and strength, the delicious demoness has a blush to her cheeks. Faint, but I know what to look for.

'What are you staring at, loser?'

'I don't know, some foal-bearing babe from another world?'

Seph rolls her eyes and gently prods my side, strong even with nothing more than the poking of a finger. 'Easy. It's my turn to be dominant, remember?'

'Yeah, yeah.' I pull on her hand, all the same. 'Can your good boy get a goodbye kiss, at least?'

The naughty nightmare glances about us, at the wave of students passing along, some of them staring at our curious pairing. A human male, just about average height, and an infernal horse, halfway to nine feet tall. A curious pairing indeed, by size alone.

'Here, really?'

'Really. Unless you're ashamed of being with me?'

Sephalla sighs, rolling those coal fires again. 'Little guilt tripping midget, jeez.' She scoops me up with a single hand against my waist, easy as can be, and brings me up to face level to a background chorus of adolescent cooing and jeering. 'You're lucky I like you so much, loser.'

Mwah. Smooch.

And with that kiss, all is established. No more hiding, no more masking the connection between us. This gorgeous demoness, my former bully, is now my kinky goth girlfriend. Her lips are sweet and smoky, luscious against my own. Her touch is gentle although, given the changes to my physiology wrought by her delicious demonic dick milk, she can afford to be quite a bit rougher.

'Happy?' Sephalla says, an eyebrow raised, as she breaks the kiss. 'Everyone can talk about us all day, now. That's what you wanted, I guess?'

'I just wanted to kiss my favourite person, Mistress.'

Seph's blush darkens, grows rich upon her cheeks. 'I fucking love you saying that, but I will pop a boner if you say it again. I don't mind people realising how ridiculously hung I am, but if you want everyone to be picturing you stuffed like a cream doughnut, you're going the right way about it. Maybe dial back on the PDAs?'

Smooch. Mwah.

I kiss her lustrous black-lacquered lips and Seph matches the affection, brief yet brilliant. When the touch ends, I nod. Something tells me the boldness is, like much of her ways, something of a mask. She doesn't really want people seeing her full "endowment."

'Anything for you. Not like I plan to share that cock, anyway.'

She exhales, smoke and flame. 'That doesn't help. Down you go.'

Sephalla barely resists the urge to push me, the very moment she sets me back on the floor. While being at such height was pleasant, the sense of tallness an interesting change of scenery given just how towering my lovely inferno is, it's a lot easier to blend in down here. The shift gives me a suggestion of how noticeable Seph must always be, overshadowing pretty much everyone except maybe the minotaurs and dragons.

'Second period,' I say, giving her thigh a pat. 'I love you.'

'Yeah, yeah. Go be soft elsewhere, loser.'

But the way she passingly grabs my shoulder as we set off in separate directions says perfectly well what she can't quite manage with her tongue. Not with her tongue's capacity for language, that is. She can certainly tell me how she feels by using it on other ways, though it's probably better that I don't pop a boner of my own in so public an environment.

I do my best not to glance back and watch her as I walk away, and it warms my heart to see that Sephalla, for all her moodiness, does the same. Two idiots, of different breeds, but we're on the same level where it matters. Only that I smile back, and Seph pretends to be looking elsewhere, quickly averting her gaze from me. Honestly, I kind of love that she does. It makes those moments of actual affection that much sweeter.

When I sit down at tutor time and our lazy elf tutor, Greilan Sayvlir, has us all read while he browses the internet and gorges on Earthling data for the first half an hour of the day, I find myself beset by more than a passing stare. Liz, in particular, can't seem to hold back.

'Jake, what are you doing with Sephalla?' she says. One by one, heads turn my way. The mousy brunette begins to squint, narrowing her gaze as she studies mine. 'What...what did she do to your eyes?! Is she mind-controlling you?'

'What? No. She's my girlfriend, that's all.'

The resulting chatter would provoke anger from just about any teacher I've ever had, but Mr Sayvlir is peak not-giving-a-shit. Liz's face contorts into a show of concern, distaste, which promptly leads to a quivering lip. But she's not the one who talks next. That honour goes to Jamie, the kind of moron who initially tried to bully nonhumans for being different until that proved -- shock fucking horror -- an impossibility given that even if he were six-foot-eight (and he's barely six foot) a human would still find themselves completely hopeless in raw physicality. It doesn't help that he's something of a moron.

'You're a species traitor,' he says, bitterness finding unfavourable ears, but not prompting the kind of outburst it might if I were with an elf, or a lamia, or something. 'I bet you're her bottom-bitch, huh?'

Nobody seems to stop his nonsense, and I merely shrug. 'A bit of both? But it's not really for me to say. You're just jealous you can't pull a girl half the quality of my nightmare.'

Before the idiot manages to speak again, Liz shakes her head. 'How could you go out with her after what she did, Jake? Sephalla's a monster.'

Which Jamie naturally approves of, without actually understanding what she means. And what she means is actually completely fair, given what Seph put me through. What she will, in one way or another, spend a great long time making up for. Which I know eats at her, in those darker moments. A mistake that shouldn't have happened.

'She's not so bad,' I say. 'She's just...Seph. But why's it matter to you, anyway?'

Liz blushes faintly. 'I didn't tell a soul how I found you.' More whispers, more chatter. Today's going to be the day that a thousand rumours are born, but fuck it. 'You can do better. Much better.'

'And I'm glad that you did, but that's the past. This is different. Sephalla's been an idiot, but she's a lot more than that.' I shake my head, smiling simply. 'I forgive her. I don't care what people think of me for that.'

Liz grimaces. 'I'm going to tell the Headmistress. This needs to be investigated.'

'What? Why?'

'Because you're a filthy species-slut!' Jamie shouts, to nothing but murmurs.

Mr Sayvlir still doesn't bother to react.

'Not that,' Liz says. 'She's controlling you, Jake. What she did...the mess you were in...'

I shrug. 'If she were controlling me, I doubt she'd do half the things she does, Liz. Given that I know her better than you do, it's probably best that you don't assume anything.'

'And your eyes? That's proof of some kind of spell, or curse!'

Chatter, chatter, chatter. I sigh. 'Look, this is going to be a little bit TMI, but the only reason my eyes are like this is because I've got a soft spot for the taste of nightmare jism. That's all.'

Definitely too much information, but fuck if it doesn't feel liberating to make the comment. To hear the whispers, the budding rumours, to watch as Jamie's face contorts and sours because as much as a woman and a man, cocks irrelevant, is a straight relationship, that kind of hateful rat simply can't help but view things through a mistaken homophobic lens as well.

But Liz? Liz just continues to frown. 'She did something to your head!'

'Yeah? She put her dick in it. So what? Why can't I have a relationship with Sephalla without people going off? I love her, that's that. Deal with it. Fuck.'

I get the vague feeling that Liz is jealous, jealous of Sephalla. And maybe once, the mousy brunette would've been appealing, but compared to my nightmare? No way. Everyone else comes a distant last. And fuck, the upset it causes, that it's public knowledge. The kiss, and now my own -- admittedly, a touch haphazard -- announcement about the kind of things I've been doing with my dickgirl demoness, become the background noise of the day.

Leading to Sephalla prodding me firmly in the ribs when we sit down for English class.

'You just couldn't help yourself, could you?' she says, glaring side-on, nostrils smoking. 'People keep asking me if I've brainwashed you. Two girls and a boy propositioned me for blowjobs because they think your eyes look cool. Gods damn it, Jake.'

But she doesn't resist when I put a hand over hers, mine vastly smaller, atop the desk. 'If it bothers you, I'm sorry, but I'm proud of what we are. I'm proud of you. I'm not going to hide it, and if I didn't say about the eyes, Liz might have a stronger case. Now anyone can look it up, and they'll know it's nothing to do with mind-control.'

Thankfully at the back of the room, with our teacher being the old (human) Mrs Watson, our chatter doesn't reach her ears. Looking forwards, it seems she barely hears the front row.

'Doesn't it bother you that people think I'm controlling you, Jake? That the only rational explanation for you and me being a thing is if I warped your head?'

I shrug. 'Seph, it's not exactly forgotten that something happened between us. Something that cost me a week of school. And now for us to be together, in public? Let them talk, man. You made a mistake, and I forgive you. It shouldn't have happened, but it's paid off like nothing else in my life. You make it up to me each and every day.'

There's that blush again, creeping in. 'You mean it? You really don't care?'

'I care more that people might be upsetting you,' I say. 'So long as you're okay, I really don't give a shit what anyone else says of me. At the end of the day, I'm either dicking down or being dicked down by my divine demoness, so I couldn't give a shit.'

Sephalla kind of relaxes, eyes wary all the same. Not of me, but the others, plenty of whom occasionally peek back at us. As if we're suddenly going to be rutting like animals, just because we're seeing one another.

'Thank you,' she says, soft and slow. 'It means a lot to hear that.'

I lean over and kiss her arm, inhaling deeply of sweet sulphur and abundant pseudo-feminine muskiness. God, I don't know if I want to fuck her, suck her, be fucked by her, or push her onto her knees. It's impossible to make sense of the wider world, the bigger picture, when Sephalla is simply so effortlessly enchanting.

'You're always welcome, Mistress.'

Her gratitude becomes a glare. 'Jake, I'm not joking. For real, I'll put a hole in the desk if you tease me like that.'

'With your cock?'

She rolls her eyes. 'What else? I'm not going to punch it. Just...save the teasing for later. Please?'

I kiss her again. 'Of course. For later.' I almost say the word, but maybe it's best not to tempt fate. Even though I'm proud of this to the point that, if everyone knows just how huge her horse-cock is, I'd probably just smile all the more smugly.

*

Seph sends me a text, right around the time the bell rings out at the end of the day.

"You know where to find me," it says, with an attached picture.

A picture of her gloriously gigantic demonic horse-dick.

I go straight over to the PE block, slipping past the leaving students towards the kickboxing room. Locking the door behind me -- much to the chagrin of whichever teacher has to do the end of day inspection -- I slip through into the equipment room, with all the punching bags and assorted fighting paraphernalia.

'Did you run, loser?' the nightmare says, smirking sweetly. 'Am I that tempting?'

'You fucking know it, Mistress,' I say, throwing my bag aside. Standing there, some seductive statue of fantastical fieriness, it's impossible to do anything but crave her. The sight of Sephalla the Magnificent has me lick my lips. But when I rush to her, eager to drop to my knees, she seizes hold of my shoulders. 'Seph?'

'Mistress right now. My turn.'

'I know, but--'

She puts a finger to my lips, cups my jaw with a herculean hand. 'I'm not saying I don't want a blowjob, Jake. I do, ever so badly, but there's something we've not attempted. Something else.'

'Something else?'

Sephalla gives her cock a wiggle, instantly catching my attention. Fuck, I'll never tire of the sight of it. A lustrous leathery black sheath with a fat ring from which the intensely infatuating indigo of her shaft proper protrudes, culminating in a fat equid glans with a stellated encircling band, flat and blunt and flared and charmingly shaped almost like a love heart, alluringly animalistic. But a whiff of her manhood, her phenomenal futanari organ, makes my head spin.

'Be my mare,' she says, wetting her lips. 'When I'm in the role of Mistress, you're my mare. I want to ride you. I want to impale you on my cock.'

I find myself nervously chewing on my lower lip, wary of her size. Wary of how immense she is, thirty-six inches or so of demonic dick, thick as my arm. And sure, I shouldn't be able to deepthroat her, but I can. But saying that...I've got a lot less control over my backside. Tight as it is, intended to push stuff out rather than have something pushed in, the notion of being mounted like a mare is more than a little bit worrisome.

'It won't break me?'

Seph strokes my face, smirking salaciously. 'No, but it's going to blow your mind. Demons are built for fucking, after all. There's the real risk that you might just want to be my cumdump for the rest of your days.'

'You're joking, right?'

She pulls me in close, her massive member a hot lance that dips down between my legs and rises up against my groin as the naughty nightmare lifts me just enough to press her lips upon mine, bathing me in her blissful body heat and sensual smells. Smooch.

'Kind of. It'd be boring, wouldn't it? It's better this way. Taking turns.'

Mwah. I kiss her back, licking at her sweet lips. 'I want you inside me. However you like. But I'm going to fuck your butt when we switch, all right?'

Seph nuzzles my brow. 'Yes, Master,' she says, all mocking. The baleful beauty winks, the last of her softness melting in favour of force. The towering inferno rises, her fat-headed cock poking at my belly and then pushing up to rest upon my shoulder. 'I'm not going to cum in your mouth, but you can start by getting things ready. That's a good little mare.'

And again, I love how tall she is. Eight-and-a-half feet of gorgeous gothic-punk demon-horse, so tall that when she lowers me again I'm eye-level with her washboard abs and girthy foal-bearing hips. It's difficult not to smirk, gleeful and smug, that she's mine. A playground of a body, to worship and enjoy as often as I like. Just as mine -- with whatever she sees in me -- is hers to do the same with.

'Anything for you, Mistress,' I say, taking hold of her prick about halfway up. I've got to step back, of course, to get its head in my mouth, but I'll delay that moment. 'I'm yours to command. Your mare.'

Smooch. Mlep.

I kiss the side of her rod and lick at the wicked width of it, running my tastebuds against the faintly sticky indigo impressiveness of her shaft proper. Salty, smoky, moreish. One taste begets a second, and a third. Mlap. Schlep. Mwah. For all her power and vastness, Sephalla trembles, brings a proprietary hand down atop my head and musses up my hair.

'Ugh. Yeah, you are. A cum-hungry slave to--mhm--horse dick.'

'Mhm. Yes, Mistress. Anything for my, um, stallion.'

Oh, she likes that. Nothing spoken, but she chews on her lower lip with those cute fangs, coal flames flaring bright. Unearthly beautiful, when she's so into it. And fuck, I really love how tall she is. However big Seph's tits are relative to other nightmare girls I can't say, but the mountainous melons are exquisitely erotic in that tight t-shirt, cleavage bulging out the top in a fashion that's surely against school uniform policy.

Mwah. Smooch. Mlap.

God, her dick tastes good. So fucking good. A little sticky, for having lurked in that sheath all day, coated in her oils and juices. Salty and smoky, nose-tingling, heart-racing. With one hand I hold her steady, sending the other down her pole to tease at that pleasing band of sturdy flesh that signals the endpoint of her sheath, sending a shudder through her for its raw sensitivity.

'You like that sheath, huh? Like that big monster of a cock?'

'Mhm.' Smooch. 'Yes, Mistress. I love your big bad stallion dick.'

Seph can't manage a laugh, the horniness racing about her head defying any lesser emotion like casual humour. She exhales sharply as I reach for her ever-playful pubes, marvelling at how they warm without burning. The nightmare sucks in a breath, loud and lurid, as I begin steadily fondling her fat testicles, spoilt for choice, sex of the enormous orange-sized orbs dangling there for me to toy with.

'And your huge heavy balls,' I say, cupping one, sinking my fingers into its heat and semi-firmness. 'So full of my stallion.'

'Ughn.' Sephalla groans, exhaling smoke and sulphur. 'The point is to get me ready to mount you, slut. Stop toying about.'

I nod, grinning, put in my place. 'Yes, Mistress. Anything for you.'

And as I step back, leaving her lovely nuts alone, inching my way up towards her fat equid crown, I take great pleasure in the sizeable sight of her schlong, the frolicking blue fire of her pubes, the way that sextet of gigantic testicles dangles and dances about against the front of her thick thighs.

'It's a shame you don't have hoofs, Mistress,' I say idly, smooching and licking away. 'I kind of...kind of like the animal-demon vibe.'

She chuckles, blushes. 'Yeah? I could have them. It's more for fashion.' Seph taps a foot, drawing my gaze to her big gothic knee-high boots. 'They don't make this style for anything but humanoid feet. Besides...you know how I feel.'

'I do.' I kiss the stellated ring, sending a low tremble down her dick. 'I love you as you are, Mistress. My sexy stallion.'