CHAPTER THREE
The sun was setting over the city, shafts of orange light breaking through the omnipresent smog that had only worsened with Ospoxun's anger. It smelled of burnt wood and hot tar. The cracks in the sidewalk bubbled with lava as he approached the warren, but Arno ignored them. Sygny had assured him that whatever protection he had put in his boyfriend's boots could withstand the Earth's core, if it had to. Arno would have preferred to be in the Earth's core if it meant that he did not have to go tithe for some asshole demon. He kicked a rock, watching as it rolled into the street and fell into a grate.
He had only been to the warren a few times, but even if he hadn't known its location the rising lava would have shown the way. Lesser demons slithered around corners or lay out on the sidewalk, their reptilian bodies basking in the heat. It was very rare that one came across any of them that couldn't stand it. He didn't see any humanoid part demons, and assumed they were all in their homes or in the warren.
When the warehouse Ospoxun had decided to call home came into sight Arno felt the cold steel of a gun against his back. He raised his arms, looking over his shoulder to see a buxom, redheaded part demon. She was smiling, revealing pointed teeth behind her blood red lips. Her demonic attributes continued with scaly red patches all over her body and black horns and tail that he could see as he craned his neck. In truth, she looked quite stereotypical.
"Are you a tithe?" she asked with a hiss, grinding the gun into his kidney and licking her lips, revealing that her tongue was forked.
"Yes," Arno answered, forcing himself to remain still.
"Excellent," she said, nudging him so he turned and allowed her black eyes to travel down his body, pausing at his crotch. "Ospoxun will be pleased." She holstered the gun and gripped Arno's muscular bicep with a clawed hand, attempting to drag him to a nearby door while he did his best to walk under his own power.
The warren was hot and reeked of sulfur. Heavily armed part demons and their lesser demon companions stared at him as he passed, but his escort must have announced his purpose by her presence, as no one gave them trouble. By the time they reached Ospoxun's main court Arno's dark shirt was stuck to his body with sweat, showing off his toned physique. He caught his companion looking at him more than necessary, and she whispered her name was Belrona with a wink. Arno thought she was very optimistic that he would have the energy to seek her out later.
Ospoxun announced his presence with a roar that might have been a laugh. For all Lacuna's description he was more humanoid than most, though completely unappealing to Arno. He also dressed like he was in a rock band: from his black leather pants to his long, head-banging hair. Belrona forced Arno to his knees, which struck the concrete floor with enough force to leave bruises.
"A tithe?" Ospoxun asked, his voice echoing through the chamber and inspiring thoughts of an erupting volcano. He didn't wait for an answer but walked up to Arno and lifted his chin with a searing hot finger.
"A willing tithe," Arno replied, forcing the words out of his mouth, reminding himself not to shrink away from the demon's touch. It was important to the demon that the tithe was willing, or at least that he not fight the demon's draw on his energy. It would take a dozen unwilling tithes to match one given freely. It lowered the incidence of demon rape, at least, and Arno hoped Ospoxun believed him and didn't throw him out to look for someone more amenable. The great demon narrowed his eyes, but seemed to accept his response after a moment of contemplation.
"Take off your shirt," Ospoxun commanded, stepping away to give himself a full view. He paced around as Arno did as he was told, revealing a torso covered with traditional tattoo designs in bold colors and thick lines, including a slithering dragon across his whole chest. His red tail, which he usually wrapped around his body under his shirt, uncurled with a twitch. Arno didn't find the great demon's expression comforting as he returned to face him.
Ospoxun took the shirt and threw it to Belrona, who caught it easily, before refocusing on Arno. He ran his hot hands down Arno's chest, taking time to tweak his nipples and feel the curvature of his muscles under the tattoos. Sharp claws dug into his skin, leaving marks on Arno's shoulders. Ospoxun's red-orange eyes glowed and Arno locked his hands behind his back, his knuckles turning white.
"Relax," he boomed, ripping Arno's arms forward. The command made Arno want to slide to the floor, but he resisted. Instead, he slowly uncurled his fingers, making a show of resting them on his thighs. Ospoxun licked his lips as his gaze followed them. He pinched Arno's nipple, hard enough to bruise, his claws digging into the areola and threatening to draw blood. The part demon gasped, drawing Ospoxun's eyes to his mouth.
Arno felt a compulsion, the will he had given over, lifting his arms as Ospoxun met his eyes. He watched as he unzipped the great demon's tight leather pants and revealed his hardening cock. Ospoxun grabbed Arno's chin, forcing his face closer, though with the compulsion his brutality was unnecessary. Arno took the demon in his mouth, running his tongue along his cockhead. Ospoxun groaned, bending his knees and forcing himself further into Arno's mouth. He choked as it hit the back of his throat, his lips still not at the base, but Ospoxun only thrust harder.
The demon's flesh was searing, and Arno felt as if blisters were forming on his lips. Hot hands tangled in his short black hair, grabbing the small red horns on his head to pull his face closer as Ospoxun enjoyed himself with roaring vocalizations. The floor quaked, and Arno felt himself stir. He tried to force his arousal away, but he and the demon were linked by the tithe and he could not control it.
Ospoxun pulled himself from Arno's mouth, pushing his face down to his heavy balls. Arno ran his tongue around the sac, feeling himself shiver with foreign arousal as the hot skin pressed against his lips. He lifted a hand to the demon's shaft, twisting as he stroked, catching the searing precum in his fingers.
Arno felt a tug on his chin, forcing him up and back as Ospoxun enjoyed his hand. The demon met his tithe's brown eyes, a small smile twisting his mouth before his gaze fell to the hard cock straining behind Arno's zipper. Even through the compulsion Arno shook, trying to force away his fear at the thought of being fucked.
With a gasp Arno lifted his other hand to the flesh before him, using the moisture that remained from his mouth to slick it as he created a longer channel for the thrusting demon to enjoy. Though his actions hadn't been in the compulsion's script, Ospoxun seemed to enjoy it enough that it distracted him from other pursuits. He roughly gripped Arno's head and pulled his mouth back in an instant. Arno began licking the entire length of the demon's hard cock as it passed through his lips and stole his air. The demon pulled out and thrust deeply, his claws driving sharp points of pain into Arno's skull as the tithe gave in to a punishing rhythm that resonated through his body until the front of his jeans were soaked.
Their audience watched with hungry eyes, and the fiery scale patches on Ospoxun's exposed skin glowed with heat. Arno felt his body orgasm and all strength leave him as Ospoxun roared and ripped at his hair, spilling himself into his spasming throat before everything went dark.
* * *
"βnext one is here," Arno heard a hissing voice say, and he did his best to pretend he was still passed out. Wherever he was, it seemed to be softer than the concrete floor, and he was grateful. He was tired in a bone deep way that felt like he may never recover. A door shut, and he forced himself not to flinch. He could still hear the hissing voice, but the door in his way meant he could not understand the words.
Cracking an eyelid, he took in his surroundings. The room was small and spare with poor light filtering through the only window. It seemed like it might be early evening, meaning Arno had been passed out all afternoon. The only furniture was the cot he lay on and a vacant, wooden chair. He sat up, noting that he was wearing his shirt again. He shivered despite the heat. The door cracked again, and he froze.
"Hey!" another voice yelled, before the door opened further.