M - daydream milk and genocide.

Eris Eternity · 05-10-2010, 02:29 AM

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420 lolol

Eris had not known pleasure from pain before; when she had been enslaved, there was no pleasure in that. There was nothing in the ghastly rituals performed by the men of her former family before Metetzili was left alone with her. She could still smell the burning fur and incense, thrown into the flame. She had blocked what happened with him from her mind, but she felt it come creeping back now and again—a flash of a gaunt, skinny coyote heaving over her, barely palpable between her legs. Maybe his smallness was the reason for his infertility, maybe not—in any case, Eris's former uncle was certainly nowhere near endeared to the sable-furred woman. Maybe if she hadn't intentionally forgotten about what he'd done from her, maybe if she hadn't completely blocked those memories, she would have been repulsed by what was occurring here with this man—but she did not recall Metetzili, and in forgetting him, she had preserved her sanity.

His claws pressed deeper into her stomach, and she shuddered, wondering if he would eviscerate her now. It would have been easy for him—whatever connection he had with the pallid furred one, it must have been physical and easier to trace than what they were crafting here and now. But if he had her, if he kept her, the sable-furred hybrid knew their bond would be stronger. She did not fantasize about love; the capacity for love had not yet developed in the youthful and arrogant canine, who could not view another as so important to her. Perhaps someday muliebrity would blossom in her, and she would learn how to love—maybe not. It did not matter for this meeting, but even so, these two canines would share something fantastical here, no doubt. Perhaps That is, if he didn't kill her first.

Eris was not sexually inexperienced; she had her fair share in Eterne prior to her enslavement, but she had never felt desire like this. Her body burned for him, but beyond that, her soul wanted him, too—there was something almost magnetic attracting the sable-furred woman to the demon above her. His hand touched her thigh, teasing around her most sensitive parts but not yet alighting on them. Her own hand was bolder, sliding around to his front, her hand touching lightly on his manhood, intending to pleasure him. It did not matter what she derived from this encounter, so long as this demon was pleased by it. That requirement satisfied, nothing else mattered.

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