No Event ☫☫☫ There's Probably an Event for This ☫☫☫ Aphro to the moon!
It was quite the typical day in the hotel corridors. Red everywhere, tasteless pictures, people coming and going and getting caught up in one thing or another. But, in this particular corridor, it seemed the traveller was alone for once, no one around. Until
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Demon God of Madness sounds more like a title than a name, but it works. "I don't want to die," she says, looking back and forth between the two versions rapidly. "And I value my sanity, such as it is. Are we doing this the hard way, or the easy way?"
What she means is, 'are you looking to sleep with me or destroy me?' except she can't bring herself to phrase it that way. Sex doesn't frighten her, not even violent sex, not even with immortal beings. Maybe especially not with immortal beings, because she's faced some of the most dangerous her world has to offer and found them less monstrous in many ways than her own kind. Still, she's aware that while even a human might want to stab her and fuck the wound, they're a lot less likely to shatter her psyche or eat her soul.
Mainly she's trying to decide whether she should fight for her life, or if it might not be easier to just let him play and hope for the best. "I'm Courtney," she adds, a show of willingness to compromise, for whatever it's worth.
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The one ahead of her shrugged dramatically, palms up and lifted right up past his shoulders. A smirk had slipped onto his lips, once again confirming that she didn't have any real choice. If she played along, she'd not be hurt, more than his almost abusive sexual habits would involve anyway. With the shrug complete, he casually slipped his hands into his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels like he was some sort of ancient cartoon character being nonchalant. "Give me trouble, and I'll have to punish you," now the one in front was talking, almost sleepily. Bored, completely contrary to his words. "Be a good girl, and you'll be rewarded."
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"I can work with that," she concludes aloud after a moment's thought. "But if you bite, I bite back."
Trying to look braver than she feels, she offers one hand to each. "If I get a choice of venue, I prefer not in the hall." If she gets no choice, she assumes he'll let her know pretty quick.
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The other completed the thought as it took her other hand, much the same as the first. "You don't live to bite back." He wasn't joking either. Asura's favourite manner of murdering women was to eat them, and it rarely took more than a few bites from his demonic mouth. A mouth which pressed to the back of her hands, identical kisses to her knuckles.
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He's being relatively gentle so far, despite his words, so she doesn't struggle. In fact, she relaxes deliberately into the contact. "Have you been stuck here long? Or are you here on purpose?"
Perhaps he is not interested in conversation, but it makes her feel less like freaking out.
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The first half of his unusual laugh from one.
"-Ke."
The second from the other. He's doing it on purpose now, keeping her on edge. He likes it, enjoys that sensation of fear. It's one of the things that stops his own constant terror, being reminded he's scarier than anyone else. He's the thing creatures under the bed are hiding from.
They guide her to a door way, opening it and with their free hands, both give her a solid slap to the ass, an encouragement to get inside as they let go of her hands. "I don't like questions."
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Her outfit is pretty nondescript, at least on the surface; just a white blouse and a skirt that stops about halfway down her thighs. It might actually have been designed as a schoolgirl fetish outfit then discarded as too tame for the place. Maybe the lingerie underneath is more interesting.
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He moved his hands around to grope at her breasts from behind and through her shirt, latching his lips to her skin to suckle tightly, his tongue pressing to the molested flesh. Skinny yet strong fingers kneaded at her, and the other joined in without waiting, squatting down and putting his hands up her skirt to grab at her ass, well aware it would still be stinging as it was squeezed. This one used it's mouth too, the inhumanly large tongue set free to lick wetly onto her knee and around her thigh. They'd get the clothes off soon, he just wanted to show he was the boss now.
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There's too much going on to characterize in one word, and none of it's particularly gentle or considerate, and yet none of it's exactly unwelcome, either. She gives up on the shirt, placing her hands lightly over the wrists of the ones kneading her breasts. She's not overly endowed, but she's not flat, each breast a comfortable handful.
She wriggles slightly at the stinging grip on her rear and whimpers. From the feel of it, her panties are flimsy things of lace and silk. Relaxing, she tilts her head to the side to give him easier access to the bare skin of her neck and shoulder as the blouse slides off her. It actually takes a moment for the oversized tongue to register, and she cranes her neck to blink down at him in mild puzzlement, then blushes and gives a small squeak as he hits a sensitive spot on her thigh, turned on despite her uncertainty.
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The other laughs briefly as she squeaks, memorising that spot. Even as his fingers curl into those lacy garments, he tests to see if he'll get the same reaction from licking on the same spot on the opposite leg before pulling her panties down in a swift movement, leaving the skirt in place for now.
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What's going on below her waist, by contrast, feels awfully good. She pants a little, toes curling. She's not as wet yet as she will be, but she's definitely getting there, and once her underwear's been removed, she spreads her legs a little further apart obligingly.
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