The Supernatural characters belong to Kripke Enterprises and the CW, not me. No money is being made from this story. It is for entertainment only.
Demon Lover
"What do you want of me?" the demon crawled over his body, nipping and licking and teasing.
"Do you want my lips, my hands, my tongue?" The creature arced up on its hands, blood red leather like wings fully extended.
The men the beast held down shivered and turned his head away. "I don't know what I want. I just know that I need you.
.._..-.._..-.._..
He had been out in the night, hunting a monster that lifted wanderers off the dark streets and left only morsels behind; an arm here, a clump of hair there. He had only been investigating; definitely not prepared for an encounter. He had no idea what he was dealing with therefore he had no idea how to hunt it or kill it or even how to protect himself against it.
He checked out the alley where the last of the body parts had been found scattered on the ground. According to the police report he had hacked the cops thought it might be the remnants of a street musician they knew as Bobo Man. He'd been young and loud and played a pretty good guitar. Now he was meat and any music he had was scattered on the wind.
With his hands stuffed in his pockets, firsts clenched, he walked the alley, pushing trash around with the toe of his boot. He was looking for anything, a clue, a hint, maybe something dropped or left behind. The place was, in a sense, clean. At least it was clean of clues. Bobo Man could have died alone, a suicide, a natural death come early. The easy answers however did not explain how he had managed to tear off his own blood soaked feet and leave them behind.
He stood and stared at the blood on the bricks. There was nothing else to see. A sound high above drew his attention and his eyes grew wide. There was a flash of a dark, falling, winged body and he knew he had screwed up irretrievably.
.._..-.._..-.._..
The demon carried him back up to the roof of the building edging the alley and set him on his feet. The Hunter was surprised that the beast didn't kill him then and there. Maybe it wasn't hungry, he thought.
He hurriedly muttered the start of an exorcism and the demon laughed at him. "What good will that do you little Hunter? I'm not constrained and you have already slaughtered three of the words."
The demon stood up straight. His powerful claws clicked against the graveled roof and his fangs showed over his ruby lips. When he spread his wings the display was ten feet wide. The membrane glowed blood red and translucent in the sunlight. His heavy horns curled forward over his brow and his eyes burned with the fires of hell.
The Hunter trembled before him and fell to his knees. When the demon stepped forward and wrapped its clawed hand around his waist he expected death momentarily and hoped it would be swift. Demons were not noted for their kindness. They enjoyed playing with their prey for a while, like a cat.
What he didn't expect was to be clutched to the demon's breast and carried high in the air, protected and held safe. They landed in the mountains beside the ocean on a high ledge that was half nest, half shallow cave.
Once down the demon began to remove his clothes and those ruby lips chased his mouth, fangs occasionally pricking his cheeks. When he was naked the demon held him on its lap and licked his face, his neck, his chest. The hunter curled into the demon's body, seeking shelter from the ocean wind.
Done with the foreplay the demon picked him up and impaled him on its dick. It was exquisite torture.
The Hunter could not believe how wonderful it felt after the pain of stretching faded away. The demon filled him three times: once on its lap, once with him on his hand and knees and once on his back in the nest with his legs pushed up and open. Night was falling when the demon finished raping the Hunter.
By the third time the Hunter accepted his rapist with open arms. As he wrapped around his demon lover the Hunter asked only one question: "What's your name?"
"Samuel" the demon replied.