Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 40901 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 205(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 136(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40901 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 205(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 136(@300wpm)
Starlight claps his hand over my mouth as Deimos’ hooves touch solid ground. I am coming hard, screaming. He is coming too, and the beast is racing through the desert with us both atop him, barely caring that we are doing our very best not to writhe all the way off his broad and powerful back.
“Easy, Deimos!” Starlight calls out.
The demonic stallion slows to a rolling canter, then a smooth, extended trot, and then to an easy, ambling walk. I feel Starlight’s cum slipping out of me, drenching my inner thighs, making a mess of me and him.
“We’re covered in…”
“It’s alright,” Starlight says. “There’s a river yonder.”
“Yonder?”
“Yonder,” he says. “You don’t know the word?”
“Yes, I know the word. Just didn’t expect to hear it out of someone’s mouth in this day and age. Almost like it’s not your word.”
“You’re a paranoid little thing,” he laughs. “But given the circumstances, I suppose that’s understandable.”
We ride to the river, where we do not have to dismount because Deimos slithers out from under us and descends back into the earth from which he came. Starlight and I are left standing with one another by the side of a bright blue river flowing through red rocky soil.
It’s beautiful. Standing here with the man who is also my captor, and also at least partially possessed by the devil, I could allow myself to imagine that we are just any pair of lovers lost together in the wild.
Starlight wraps his arm around my shoulders in a surprisingly tender embrace for a man who swore to imprison and torture me, but I suppose it is easier to plan to hurt someone than to actually do it. Years of imagining what he would do to me likely faded once he actually had me. I look up and into his eyes, trying to understand what motivates him now.
Starlight
I take Katie by the hand and together we wade into the river to wash ourselves of our mutual filth. We are still clothed, but that hardly matters. Being worried about being wet is a concern for those trapped in the mundane, and that does not apply to us. We are beyond wet or dry, hot or cold. We are wrapped up in an experience all of our own, with senses tuned to other concerns.
She’s beautiful. I am in trouble. She wanted to see Deimos, so I showed her essentially immediately. I find myself wanting to share everything with her. My mount has always been a secret, but there can be no real secrets between captor and captive. This is a relationship of incredible intimacy. I cannot help but become known to her as my darkest impulses rush up against the shores of her being and either make land or slide away back into the morass of my unconscious. What I do to her, what I want to do to her, what I feel when I do her, all these things surprise me greatly.
I want to hold her in my arms. I want to feel her sweet breath against my cheek. I want to protect her from everything, including myself.
For once, Katie has very little to say. I feel her put her weight back against me, trusting me in a silent way. Warmth suffuses my chest, and those feelings of tender protectiveness blossom all the more when her head rests against my shoulder. I have fucked this woman, and I have made love to her. I have spilled myself inside her, given myself to her.
This must be what love feels like. This must be…
Plink! A drop of water falls from the cloudless sky.
Plink! Another droplet falls nearby.
Katie doesn’t seem notice, but it has begun to rain just a little. Perhaps a sun shower? I look to the river, to see if it is recording these drops in the rivulets of its flow, but when I gaze upriver I do not see water falling from the sky. I see a flow of pink and red tracing its way toward us, reaching out sanguine tentacles for us.
“The fuck,” I curse under my breath.
Katie turns her head to look in the direction I am looking.
“Oh,” she says. “You’ve murdered someone.”
She says it so causally, without judgement, and certainly without concern. She talks as though rivers suddenly flowing bloody red happens every day, and that they are a clear and obvious sign of murder having happened.
“Was it one of the guards? I imagine it was,” she continues.
I grab her and haul her out of the water. Blood clings to her white clothing, as it no doubt does to my black pants.
“The fuck is going on?”
“You’re courting the divine,” she says. “You’re inhabiting the spaces where gods walk. Do you really think you will be excused the consequences of your actions? That is the entire point, isn’t it? The weighing of behavior and the punishing of the evil? The devil himself lives to punish, not to celebrate evil doers. You are closely allied with the one entity in all creation with absolutely no patience for your actions.”