Loved

Lucretia stared at her naked body in front of the great bedroom mirror, her hair down. She had felt so weak at the demon's words, but also strangely intrigued. She knew this was foolish, that it was everything her father had warned her against:

A demon is a creature of feral cunning and inhuman wisdom, capable of marvelous feats of truthsaying. Which is what makes it so effective a trapper, when it comes to ensnaring mortal minds.

But then...

Why was she so aroused at the thought of him? At the thought of what he said. You need a man to order you around. Because this is what Eli taught you to be. She was wet at the thought of those words, of the way that creature spoke them, softly like a malevolent hiss. Carefully, as if scared of what she might see, she reached her hand between her legs and slid her finger across her lips. She was wet. Wet at the thought of being ordered around by some demon, at the thought of being used by that thing and...

No. She shuddered with pleasure at the thought. She gently pinched her clitoris and let out a yelp, getting goose bumps all over. Looking around, making sure no one could see her, she smiled fiendishly and posed at the mirror, licking her lips. There was a game she had liked to play when she was younger and still hadn't found out what carnal desire really meant, back when she was still...untouched. Sometimes, at night, she would construct for herself an imaginary lover, a man who was, admittedly, a crude representation of a real man, but ideal nonetheless.

She imagined him being a gentle, caring lover, a creature wholly different from her tyrant of a father, but now she found him utterly boring. This time, she conjured him yet again in her mind, but he was a different sort of animal entirely.

He was a large ape of a man, his body covered in hairs, his hands coarse things with great, thick fingers. He stood taller than her, so tall in fact that she could not look into his eyes unless she craned her head all the way up and made out his burning red eyes among the tangled mass of hair and beard.

She imagined him grabbing her by the neck, so she clenched her fingers on her flesh hard, hard enough to hurt, before propelling herself against the mirror, her face mashed against the glass. She greeted the discomfort while she was pressed against it, her breasts almost flattened. She felt weak at the sight of her own face, distorted from so close.

In her mind, her ideal man reached his great hand and dug his nails in her ass, and she did that exactly, hard enough to make her squeal. She imagined his rough hands holding her down as he leaned in and whispered in her ear:

You're a dirty little whore, aren't you?

"Yes, yes, I am..." she muttered, his hand and her own moving in unison. She moaned deeply as she imagined his fingers crudely--but expertly--circling her cunt, rubbing her lips and clitoris in long strokes. Lucretia gasped at the thought, digging her nails harder inside her buttocks, she--he--was stroking harder, faster, making her weaker. She shuddered against the mirror and let out a gasp, climaxing in front of it on her knees.

Get up. I'm not done with you yet!

Stumbling, she felt herself pulled to her feet and then turned around before being pressed with her back to the mirror. He squeezed her breasts and kneaded them, slapped them hard again and again. She tried to resist, but she couldn't muster the strength. He brought one of her breasts up to his lips and gently bit at the soft flesh before putting it in his mouth. He teased her breasts with his mouth, tasting the areola, teasing her nipples, and then finally biting into the soft flesh.

She yelped, tried to resist, but he had her hands pinned to the mirror. He sucked and nibbled at her nipples, alternating between pain and pleasure. Her mouth filled with her own breast, living out his motions. She wanted him so bad, wanted this beast of a man to...

You want this cock, whore?

She nodded yes, drooling now, imagining herself groping it, her hands getting slapped aside, silently begging, her sex so wet and hot that it almost hurt, wanting to feel him inside her, that monster of a man. She moved her waist, trying to imagine, desperately seeking to get him inside her, but he always pulled back, mocking her and teasing. She pleaded with him.

"Let me have it, please..." But he laughed in her face, watching her as she begged, constantly grinding her sex against his shaft. She was about to burst into tears when her lover decided he'd seen enough and let her have it.

She shoved two fingers inside herself, trying to feel his thickness, his length, but she couldn't even come close to the size she had given him in her head.

Desperate, she imagined him still laughing with just the tip inside her. She eased in two more fingers from her other hand, suddenly stretched and full. He began to push all the way in her, and she got knuckles-deep, imagining his shaft filling her and stretching her even more.

Lucretia screamed when he started fucking her, holding her against the mirror; she desperately moved her waist, trying to keep up with her animal lover who fucked her hard, pounded her cunt, and made her breasts jiggle faster. She moved her waist toward him, greedily trying to take him all the way up to the hilt, but he always pulled back at the last minute.

He pulled out of her and pushed her with her face on the floor, her buttocks and sex in the air, presented to him; she imagined him entering her, then letting his weight carry his member deep inside her. Greedily stuffing her cunt, she began to squeal when she imagined her lover grinding deep hard inside her, licking his lips at the sound of her juices spilling down her cunt, onto her hips and the carpet.

She was climaxing with each thrust, wave after wave of pleasure washing over her, making her feel weak, and she convulsed on the floor. She let out a cry before finally collapsing. In her mind, her lover released all over her buttocks and back. Then, he dissipated.

She crawled to the bed and realized that the demon was right: she needed this more than she had imagined.