Pure Instinct

Pure Instinct
Daemon Messiah

         The figure ran though the forest at top speed. His clothes hung from him in tatters, all black over pale skin; his hair, uncut and unkempt, had branches and seeds clinging to it like an animal; his pale skin is covered in scratches from plants and brambles, scars from animals. The only thing that he had that was well kept was the sword acrossed his back, hung by a single plain, leather sling. The handle could be seen over his shoulder, a twisted metal topped by a single, horned skull.
From beneath unkempt hair, a pair of blood-red eyes kept an eye on the fleeing woman, kept her scent well in range. He could smell her; but beyond the sweat, the blood from her various cuts, beyond the scent of her perfumed hair and makeup, he could smell her soul. He could smell her sin, and that is what he currently tracked.
To him, it smelled sweet, like cake or candy. It tantalized him, and that is why the chase had lasted as long as it did; all he had was this moment, as he was aware, and this moment was his heaven. He found his paradise in the chase. But soon, he would find another kind of paradise; the paradise humans sought in their own worldly desires, hidden by the stark shadows of the very moon under which he now hunted.
         As they approached a clearing, he could sense his prey tiring. The chase was almost to an end. He could have ended it sooner; it was easy to outrun a human. Almost child’s play.
As he approached, he followed her scent to the trunk of a nearby tree, off the main path, where she shook with spent energy. She was a beautiful example of her own kind; a woman with flowing red hair, breasts that threatened to overflow her red kimono, and long legs that curled up beneath her in a fetal position, her arms wrapped around it as the heavy makeup ran down her face with tears, her eyes closed.
         It wasn’t until his claws brushed through her hair that she looked up, startled and crying as she scrambled up against the tree, scraping her back through the silk. She whimpers as the tears run down her eyes, as he leans up against her, pinning her.
         He doesn’t say a word; only holds her there, his other hand pushing aside the thin material of her robe, revealing the thin fabric beneath, the only thing between him and his gratification.
         “Please…” she begs, tears still falling down her face, “I’ll do anything, anything you want, just don’t kill me…”
         “Anything?” he mutters, his fingers stroking along the crotch of her panties, sending goosebumps along her inner thighs as a spark flew up from between her legs. “I don’t want ‘anything’. I simply want you.”
         He was looking her in the eyes as he spoke. Every time he says something, his mouth opened to reveal a set of sharp, predatory teeth; a set of claw-like nails, glinting silver in the pale moonlight, dug into the bark beside her, effortlessly leaving behind three-inch deep trenches in the wood which seeped with sap.
         “Who are you?” she whimpered, even as her nails began digging into the tree behind her, trying to ignore the steady heat growing from between her legs, the slickness as she reacted to the stroking, careful hand, always seeming to brush her hidden button just enough, just right.
         Rather than answering, he leans in close, whispering in her ear. “I can smell it, girl. Your need, your desire, your lust. It pours from between your thighs, coats my fingers.”
         “No…” she mutters, squirming against the tree as the fingers push aside the fabric, the tip sliding into her, teasing her. “Please don’t say that.”
         “There’s no hiding it from me.” he chuckles, sliding a little deeper into her. “You want more than this finger. That is why I chose you, girl.”
         “Chose…?” she started, but was interrupted as another finger slid into her, prompting a moan to escape her lips.
         Chuckling, he continues to whisper. “Yes. Chose. You like it, girl. You like the pain and the pleasure, you like the way I am treating you. You’re a filthy little girl who likes being abused.”
         “No…” she mutters breathlessly, as one of her breasts pops over her robe, as she squirms.
         “Then why is your cunt spasming around my fingers?” he mutters into her ear, gruffly. “Why aren’t you fighting me?”
         With that, he leans forward, running an extraordinarily long tong around her nipple with a growl that only sent further spasms to her netherlips, her nipples hard from the cold of the forest breeze and the stimulation. Suddenly, those teeth dig into her breast, sending shocks of pain and pleasure through her body as her pussy begins to spasm around his fingers.
         Suddenly, pain is replaced by pleasure as something large and blunt plunges into her. She doesn’t notice, not until the last moment, that he had lifted her up by her knees, forcing her legs apart and plunging into her repeatedly with enough force to make her bleed, her tight hole continuing to spasm as she wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders, her eyes closed as she screams with a mix of pain and pleasure, as his seed spills into her.
         Without warning, he flips her over, pinning her wrists behind her and pinning her against the tree, the barks scraping her breasts as his rod slides into her anal cavity, lubed by nothing more than her own juices. With him grunting behind her, plunging in and out of her, she is unable to move as pain shoots through her anus, slowly turning to pleasure as the bark scrapes at the skin on her chest. Suddenly, with one final grunt, she can feel him pumping into her rectum, and she spasms in orgasm once more, her liquids spilling out over her thighs.
         With a sigh, she collapses, as he stands over her, now completely nude. He comes to stand right in front of her, his arms crossed over a broad chest, his member hanging between sculpted thighs.
         As she begins cleaning his organ, she realizes this is just as he had wanted, and that there would be many nights like this to come.