It Is Good to Be the Demon - Cover

It Is Good to Be the Demon

Copyright© 2015 by DEMONMASTER62

Chapter 48

BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 48 - One Night at the club, The Demon comes out to "play". I was going to end it there, but there are too many experiences not to share them. Some will be flashbacks to set up happenings that occur in the present. I wish there was just a D/s genre, as BDSM is too strong. And no, they aren't the same.

Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/Fa   Fa/Fa   Incest   Mother   Father   Daughter   DomSub   MaleDom   Humiliation   Rough   Sadistic   Spanking   Anal Sex   Analingus   First   Fisting   Oral Sex   Voyeurism   BBW   Public Sex  

The short drive from Beth’s work to my apartment did nothing to diminish the sense of intense anger and hurt that I felt. I sat there in my parking spot with a white knuckle grip on the steering wheel trying to calm myself down, and not having any luck at all.

My brain finally picked up that something didn’t look quite right about my apartment. My bedroom window faced the parking lot, and as you can well imagine, I keep very heavy drapes over that window, because of what could be going on in that room at any given time. What had finally got my attention was the pale yellow glow that outlined the edges of those drapes. That meant that a light was on in that room, and I knew that I hadn’t turned any lights on as it was still light outside when I left to go see Beth.

It finally hit me. I had forgotten the orders that I had given to Trish.

So being armed with the evidence that she was indeed waiting inside for me, and presumably in a fairly inescapable position, I was of two minds at that moment. One being a very evil intent to take out every bit of hurt and anger that I felt on this little slut of mine. The other was a very deep concern that I had been gone quite awhile, and if she HAD succeeded in putting herself in those restraints, she would have had no way to escape or even to help herself.

Torture by way of circumstance is not the way I like to do things. I want a definite and deliberate hand in it, if you know what I mean.

That’s not even to mention my genuine affection for each and every one of my slaves, which actually brought out an over riding sense of true concern for Trish’s well being. It was this concern that took priority over all of the others at this point in time, and had me moving quickly to get inside to check on one of mine.

The first thing I noticed after stepping in the door was the tank top, and very small shorts on the floor. She certainly had been ready to come down and please her Master, which she had been telling me when I gave her the other orders, rather abruptly.

That’s when the moan got my attention. I started that way. when the sound turned into a hybrid moan/wail it had me in there in seconds.

She had indeed been able to buckle her wrists, so that she never could have escaped. She was bathed in sweat, but what really made the scene rather erotic, was that she had pulled her body in as tight as she could. She, somehow in that tight ball, was able to make her self cum. Just as her body released itself, her ass shot straight out, and then squirted her fluids onto her inner thighs, onto the chair, and onto the carpet.

As I witnessed her going through this, that’s when the moan turned into the loud wail. Just in the short time that that first wail had sent me hurrying to the bedroom, she was in the throes of yet another orgasm, the one I just described. Judging by the amount of fluids that I saw on her and the other places, she had had many of these hard spine curling cums.

She jumped, well as much as she could, when I spoke in the low Demon growl,”Has my cunt been cumming without permission?”

She didn’t even try to deny it, “Yes Master, and it is fucking awesome! Punish me any way you please, I wouldn’t trade any of them. This body needs it’s Master now!”

This surprised me a little, as I had been able to get almost all of my girls to the point of demanding it, and then receiving just what they demanded in spades. But, never Trish. She was always as calm and cool as possible, waiting, knowing, that eventually her Master would get around to her. She obviously had no intention of waiting her turn this time, and made her need known loudly.

My anger at Beth, (and I admit to still having the need and intention to take it out on the cunt before me), actually took a side step for a minute. I really needed to check her out. Making sure she wasn’t hurting in ways that she shouldn’t be, figuring she also needed some fluids put back into her body, or maybe even bathroom needs.

This all went to hell, when I reached down to check her left wrist, intending to put it in a more comfortable position. She practically screamed for me not to turn her loose. I tried to explain my actions, but she was having none of it. Once I stopped trying, she immediately went into this small girl voice, promising things no small girl would even dream of.

I got an inkling of what was going on now. There are other names for it, but when one of mine reaches this rare state, My name for it is “Big Clit Syndrome”. Call it whatever you do or will, but that is what it boils down to; The slave’s body has become one big erogenous zone, or put more bluntly, one big clit.

To prove my point, I merely leaned over her and lightly blew air on her back. The scream that accompanied that orgasm was the loudest that I had heard yet. I had watched her through one of these already, but I can tell you that on this one her squirting fluids almost made it to the bed. Quite a feat indeed.

Being the bastard that I am, I then traced a finger down her spine. This orgasm actually caused her to pass out. I took the time that she was out to go to the kitchen and get a glass of cold water. She was coming around and moaning softly when I got back the room. Lord, the glassy look of need in her eyes, almost made me forget everything and just take her then and there.

Which would have been exactly what she wanted, but one of us had to be the adult in this situation. At least for a few minutes.

“I need you to drink this water, slave. you are on the verge of being severely dehydrated, and should that happen, neither one us will get what we want and need.”

That little voice again,”You still want and need me, after the way I have acted, Master?”

“Yes, I do. But you need to drink this water for me, pet.”

“No Master, this slut knows a better way to get hydrated.” Her eyes went to the obvious bulge in my pants.

“Before we even think of things like that, I need to explain a few things, and you WILL drink this water!”

The little girl voice, “Yes Sir. Just please don’t let me out.”

“I have no intention of letting you out, little one. But you need to know what might be coming for you here. Now drink the water.” I held the glass to her lips and slowly let her drink it at her own pace, tilting it as needed.

When she emptied the glass, I gave her a growled “good girl” as I bent over and licked the part of her spine that I could get to. She instantly went very rigid, it took a second or two, but it finally caught her, and once again she wailed and squirted.

While she was recovering, I used the time by getting her into the restraints the right way, including the ankle restraints that would keep her in one position. She would not be able to bring herself off again, as now her thighs were too far apart.

She was already moaning just from feeling more comfortable, and because of the ankle restraints which added a whole new sensation to the overall effect.

The other thing it did was, just as when Holly had been in the chair, her head was held stationary at the hole that went through the chair, with her mouth at just the right height. I unzipped, and pulled out my by now almost painfully throbbing dick. I walked to the head of the chair and just ran my cock into her mouth, which she couldn’t have stopped if she had wanted to.

Of course the way she was sucking me, told me she didn’t want it to stop. Understand this now, she had no head movement at all, so her “sucking” me was all of what she was doing with her throat as I just “parked” there.

“I believe you had another way of hydrating?” I was tempted to also quip about replenishing her salt supply, but she was doing things that brought my full attention to the matter at hand or more accurately, at mouth.

She of course couldn’t answer anyway, but her throat muscles were working wonders.

I told her the story of Beth while I just rested in her mouth. I made sure that she understood how mad I was and that it all could be taken out on her, if she refused to leave the chair.

I pulled out of her mouth, so that she could answer me.

Once again with that little girl voice which I was starting find very sexual, she said, “Master, this body is yours, my mind, my heart, and my soul are yours to do with as you please, whenever you please. I gave them and everything else that I am to you on the afternoon that you took this slut’s ass for the very first time. I welcome whatever you do to me, be it pain, shame, and so much more, even someone else’s punishment. Please use your cunt, I beg of you, Sir.”

I said “Good enough” and shoved my cock back into her throat. I had needed this release for hours now, and I had no doubt that it was going to be a big one. I fucked her throat as hard as I dared, not that it took very long anyway. When I was able to let it go, I reached over the back of the chair and held her head in a death grip as she took a load large enough to make me see stars. I stayed in her mouth until she had swallowed all of it. The good girl that she is, she hadn’t missed a drop. She did cough a little when I fully pulled out, but anything that even made an appearance, she sucked right back into her mouth as quickly as possible.

We were just getting started.

She had told me wanted this. She even begged me for this.

I had no intention of disappointing her.

None at all.

The first thing I did was reach down and lift the small wooden lid of a hidden compartment on her left side. What lay inside looked like a coiled silver snake, but was actually a very thin, but very strong silver chain that was attached to the bottom of the compartment at one end. On the other end was what could only be described as “The Nipple Clamp From Hell”.

A torture device really, in any other time period. It was spring loaded like a clothes pin, and when opened by applying pressure to the flat pieces on the back end, it displayed a row of very sharp metal teeth which looked liked something you’d expect to see in an alligator’s mouth.

Just as scary, and yes, just as sharp.

A nipple clamp yes, but not the metal pads that could be screwed tighter and tighter, like the one’s I had used on Holly in an earlier chapter, oh no. These actually “bit” into the nipple when closed. The “bite” was a constant and extreme pressure.

The one modification that I had had made to it (and it’s mate) was to put small rubber tips on the teeth. This was so that in the throes of an orgasm, or recoiling from the sting of a whip, the slave wearing them wouldn’t actually rip her own nipple off. Yes, they COULD do that had I left the shiny steel teeth naked, so to speak.

Even as it was, I had it on good (and loud) authority that they hurt like hell obviously, yet heightened the sensory perception of an orgasm to the point of delirium. That is, should the one being punished actually be favored with the “gift” of being allowed to cum.

By the time that it had registered in Trish’s brain that her left nipple was in the jaws of a Dragon, the right one was in the same predicament, from the uncoiled clamp on that side.

The real diabolical beauty here, was that the chains on each side were of an exact length that never allowed the “victim” to have a moment of relief. No matter how they moved, be it up, down, backwards, forwards, or even sideways, the “bite” never lessened in intensity. It should go without saying that one wouldn’t want to even try and go beyond the length of the chains, but I point it out just to be thorough in my description.

Now after reading all of this, you’d think that there would be no way in hell that a slave could even think of enjoying this, let alone allowing themselves be put in such torture. Then explain to me, if you can, why the same lick down the slave’s spine that sent her into “space” a few minutes ago, did exactly the same thing when I did it now? In fact, she came harder this time than she had since I first got here.

The evidence was all over my carpet.

Of course, She screamed much louder this time as well. I solved this problem with a ball gag from my “Toy” drawer. I had also grabbed the rubber paddle that I had described in an earlier chapter. You know, the one that I had slapped my own palm with and couldn’t use my hand for three days?

I laid the paddle on the rise of her ass, while I put the ball gag on her. Even though the walls of my apartment were rather thick, the last thing I needed was someone thinking that a murder was happening in here. The gag would help with that.

Even though her mind was coming to grips with the new painful sensations of her nipples, her body betrayed her by pushing her lower body back toward me as she felt my hardness on her hip as I was finishing up putting the gag in place. This may have been a result of her mind believing that I was going to go for maximum effect by ramming straight into her asshole, an action that she not only welcomed, but needed.

One must understand that of all of the slaves in my little “Family”, each with their own “kink” or “turn on”, two of them are straight up ass sluts. I don’t mean that as derogatory as it sounds, it merely means that if Master is going to “use” them, they would rather it be in their tight little asses than anywhere else.

With Trish, it was as a flower waiting to bloom, if you will. When her daughter related to me that her mother had told her that she had never, and WOULD NEVER allow a man anywhere near that part of her body, I found it to be a challenge. I was her Master, I owned her, and I damn sure was going to own that part of her as well, and have her begging me to use it.

Well, if you’ve read the story, then you know how the woman who was a drunk and had been little more than the “Town Pump”, and had even earned the dubious title “The Best BlowJob On This Side Of Town”, had become the number one certified, grade A, “got to have it” Ass Slut.

In short, it had been the key to her finding her own sexuality, her way to actually feel something during sex other than self loathing at letting yet another drunk “nobody” use her equally drunk body or mouth as nothing more than a cum dump.

Of course, once I forced that door open for her, so to speak, I was the only one allowed inside, because to her way of thinking, as the true slave that she had come to be, the harder and more frequently I busted in that particular door, the better.

On a normal night, she would have had her wish granted rather quickly and forcefully, but this was no “normal” night

Her Master was seething with anger. He carried the hard-on from hell fueled by that anger, and this poor slave had offered herself up as the sacrificial lamb, so to speak.

Now it was The Demon’s time to play.

She was still trying to put voice to the cry of pain from her abused nipples when she had pushed her ass in my direction. The rubber monster that I had laid on her lower back was quickly in my hand and swatted both cheeks in the blink of an eye.

Before the slaps had even registered, I was as deep into her overflowing cunt as I could get. On every out stroke, I popped one of the cheeks, before ramming back inside of her body as hard as I could.

Every stroke set off many pain sensors for her mind to try and cope with. First was the slap, the recoil, the pain of her nipples in complete agony from each movement, and the battering ram that abused her pussy lips on every thrust that would start the whole sequence again.

She may have been trying to scream, in pain or pleasure, but I didn’t care either way. In the back of my mind, it did register that the walls of her normally tight pussy would contract hard around my pounding cock every few thrusts, only to add to the amount fluids already on the floor, the chair, on her, and on me.

She was so wet and getting wetter, that these contractions were the only thing that finally gave me enough friction to bury myself into her as far as I could go, and growl/howl through yet another huge orgasm that only added to the mess dripping from her shuddering body.

I had taken the mouth. I had taken the cunt. Now with the anger, and the power trip keeping me hard as a rock, I withdrew from her over heated sex and ruthlessly sank myself balls deep into her puckering yet beckoning asshole.

If it is possible for one to howl in pain, yet moan in extacy at the same time, she came as close to it as anyone I was ever going to hear do so.

Without even giving her time to catch her breath, I did nothing but ravish her as hard and as savagely as I possibly could. The term “Rip that asshole wide open” ran through mind as I pounded her with an aggression and power that I rarely show or use.

Then she proved that she was truly an ass slut.

She not only welcomed my forced invasion, but risked harm to her own body to try and fuck me back as hard as I was fucking her. I know that sounds like pure bullshit, but I WAS there, I KNOW what she was doing!

I thought it would take me awhile to cum again for what would be the third time in a fairly short amount of actual time, but the way she was basically sacrificing everything she WAS to be WHAT I needed her to be, led to what can only be described as an ancient star going nova. With what felt like a white hot ball of cum, I shot every shred of anger and stress that I had left within me, deep inside her nether regions.

It was almost as if time had stopped.

I stood stiff as a board for what could only have been seconds, yet felt like hours, as I poured every negative emotion that I had in me at that moment into her. She not only accepted it, she seemed be trying to milk every last drop out of me. She used the muscles in her ass, as well as she had used the muscles in her throat. She took everything she could get, and not only willingly took it, but judging by her vocal sounds and still contracting walls, she took it happily.

Again, I WAS there, I KNOW what I heard and felt.

My own body had gone from being the afore mentioned tight ball of stress and anger, to being all but drained and finally relaxed. It was that sudden feeling of relaxation that caused me to bend forward with almost no control. I was only able to stop myself from falling on her back with my full upper body by quickly grabbing the two wooden arm rests that actually made the whole contraption look like a chair in the first place.

I had a moment of evilness run through my mind, that pointed out that if I had grabbed these in the first place I could have went at her even more savagely. Since I was still buried inside her ass, the temptation was there to do just that, but it was enough for now to know that the option was there for the next “victim”, no matter who that may be the next time.

That was one I filed away for future use, believe me.

After a few seconds of getting my breath back, I started to use the arm rests to push myself back up when I heard her sharply bark something around the ball that sounded very much like a “No!”

Instead of following my immediate reflex which would have been to make her pay dearly for such a show of disrespect, I reached forward and one handedly released the buckle so that she could spit out the ball and speak.

As she did so, I asked in a voice dripping with venom, “Would you like to try that again, cunt?”

What I got in return was that “little girl” voice asking very sweetly, “Please don’t pull out yet, Master.”

Something about that voice, and the way she used it struck just the right note with the always pacing Demon that I keep deep inside. The result caused my rapidly softening cock to swell and become rock hard in a very short amount of time.

God, I had to be careful here. If she ever figured out just how she could work my mind and body with that little voice ... well, the less said the better.

Letting through just a little of The Demon, I growled, “Tell me why, cunt.”

“Let me love my Master my way, Sir. I have dreamed, I mean I HAVE REALLY dreamed of being just like we are right now. In my dream I have been used within an inch of my life, I feel pain everywhere, yet I still feel the need for something in my dream, a very strong feeling of not completing something that I wanted ... no, something I NEEDED to do for my Master. I have never been able to stay with the dream long enough to find out just what it was I felt the need to do. This is the closest we have ever been to that dream, in real life, and now I know ... I know what it is that my mind and body crave to do so badly. I need it, I want it, it is all I can think of, Sir.”

She said all of this in that little voice.

I could deny her nothing. I managed to get out, “Tell me.”

“As I said before, Sir ... let me love my Master, my way.”

I simply said, “Love me, cunt.”

She let out a long contented sigh.

And with that, she slowly moved forward until she couldn’t take anymore pressure or pain from the clamps on her nipples, and slowly, oh so slowly moved her body back toward me. She then deliberately and I assume painfully, swallowed my cock back into her dark depths.

She repeated the process again and again, always at the same slow deliberate speed. The real sadistic part of it that my mind took great pleasure in, was that once she got her rhythm, every backstroke caused her to have to stretch that rectal ring again for re-entry to take me back inside of her body.

I can’t imagine the agony that must have caused her, along with the searing pain that her nipples had to be enduring with every move. Every few strokes, I could feel both her anal and her vaginal walls contract, and she would shudder almost violently, and I would feel warm fluids hit my lower stomach and balls.

I can’t help but to mention the constant moans with each stroke, and the even louder more intense sounds she made just before I felt her warm offerings spray those parts of my body already described.

She had to know that with as many times as I had already came, she was going to be at this for quite awhile, if indeed her objective was to once again coax my seed into her body. Yet, she never wavered, never complained. She just kept “Loving her Master” as she had so sweetly promised and begged to do.

She was in a zone of her own making, her own world, and yes ... her own “Space”.

Who was I to deny her that?

I must have been in a zone of my own. I was so mesmerized by watching her glistening body moving away and then back and the sensations that I experienced with each of these movements, that I missed something that will become clear in a moment.

To explain why I missed it, You must understand that I was of two minds while my slave “Loved me”. One of which watched and marveled at this beautiful “dance” of pain and pleasure. The other mind was of course focused more on the almost animalistic pleasure I got from knowing that with each every move that she made, that every push or pull had to cause her untold amounts of pain, no matter how much pleasure SHE got from it.

One would say that the two minds were thinking the same thing, given what I said. I would have to state that you would be wrong. If you read it again, you’ll catch that, like all males, one mind was focused on the pleasure that I was receiving at her expense, while the other one was deriving an even greater, more sadistic pleasure from her self-inflicted agony, and knowing that it was because OF and FOR me, her Master.

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