Chapter 1

The back rooms of the South Bank library were a great place to get lost. Jahke had been tucked away in his bay window seat for hours, nose in a book, bake feet tucked up under his discarded sweater, pushing tendrils of hair from his eyes. If no one saw you climb the wrought iron spiral stair then you could be safe from being bothered all day. The light was fading from the sky now, and the orange fizz of the gas lamps in the street illuminated the side of Jahke's angular features. So engrossed in his book was the boy that he did not notice the pair of shadowed figures who stood under the streetlamp exchange glances and then stare up at him.

Jahke readjusted his position on the bench seat, wishing his jeans weren't so tight around his crotch as he read;

Jahke looked up as a creak reached his ears, his hand on the button fly on his jeans. He waited, breath ragged, but there were no further noises. The bench seat was getting uncomfortable, Jahke wanted to stretched out to fully enjoy his reading, and so he left the window and settled himself into the worn leather wing chair that faced the stacks. Up here were reference booms so old or forgotten that no one used them and Jahke could afford the privacy of slipping his hand into the waist band of his trousers before his eyes eagerly sought out his book.

... the short fur of its hand warm, soft and bizarrely pleasurable. The wolf snarled again, but the tone was different, wanting not hungry, and I could feel myself hardening in his grasp. My breath came short, I was still pinned to the tree and as the wolf began to enjoy himself he let his grip relax and I slid painfully against the bark.

The wolf placed me on the grass and his hot soothing tongue began to lick the wounds on my back. It was like being rubbed by sandpaper, but his clawed fingers in my crotch kept me on edge and excited. Suddenly that tongue drifted lower and I found my scrambled escaped halted by both his big hands around my wrists as that long prehensile tongue and cold wet nose explored my ass...

Jahke sat bolt upright in his chair, twisting at the noise of footsteps that came, inexplicably, from behind him. One hand still wrapped around his stiffen cock Jahke saw something that knocked the breath right out of him.

Two figures, one standing moving towards him, the other closing the sash window above the bench seat, both seemingly made of shadow. The chemical orange of the streetlamp threw harsh shadows into the room as the second figure turned off the warm glow of the naphtha lantern. Jahke froze, sort of hoping that these shadowy figures hadn't seen him, that their breaking and entering stunt had nothing to do with him. Deep down he knew better. Sharp blood red eyes fixed on him and Jahke felt like a moth in a whirlwind under that gaze, a trapped insect and nothing more.

"Hey Sitka," the glow red eyes seemed to narrow in a smile that chilled Jahke to his core, "We got us a live one."

The shadowy figure called Sitka moved towards Jahke who had a presence of mind to remove his hand from his now shrinking penis and made an aborted attempted to escape. Sitka blocked his passage through the stacks and Jahke could make out the shape of him. His eyes were black, like onyx, and he towered over Jahke, who at only 5'9'' was small enough as it was. Long limbs, black and wrapped in layers and ribbons of further frayed black made up an outfit of scraps. The horns were the bit that made Jahke close his eyes and wish he could wake up from whatever weird dream he'd drifted into. Horns, rough, ridged and curving either side of the angular face which now regarded Jahke like a meal. Jahke made a small strangled noise in his throat and wishes fervently for the moment when he'd been reading, masturbating and nothing had generally been wrong with his life.

The demon wrapped a strong long fingered hand around each of Jahke's wrists and twisted him around sharply. The boy struggled, but his grip was like iron.

"Let go!" Jahke's shoulders ached already as he fought against the creature that held him.

"Well he's a fighter Shindae, I'll give him that." The demon chuckled to his friend, "I bet he's tasty too."

The demon called Shindae took a step forwards on cloven hooved feet and his square muzzle split into a wide grin, blood red eyes glowing in the near dark.

"What's your name human?" The voice was like fire and iron filings and Jahke, stammered when he answered.

"J-Jahke ... please, please let me go."

"Nah," Sitka growled in his ear and wrapped his hands around Jahke's shoulders. Jahke's struggled but his wrists were now held with fabric strips that held just as tightly as hand cuffs. Shindae flicked the buttons of Jahke's shirt with long black claws. Jahke's closed his eyes, only to snap them open again as Sitka wrapped a strong hand around his jaw and squeezed.

"You know how lucky you are human?" the voice poured liquid compulsion down Jahke's throat and ceased his struggle, "You watch when a master bestows gifts upon you."

So Jahke watched as his shirt was torn away into a dozen pieces as the long black claws traced the shape of his torso. He was not a muscle person, not into sports and the gym. He was a bookworm, and his narrow chest and shoulders showed the leanness of his young age, the smooth unmarked skin. Shindae's eyes glowed fire bright as his hand plunged into Jahke's open fly and squeezed what he found there.

Sitka chuckled in Jahke's ear, hot wet breath on his neck and face.

"Oh you pretty little thing," short sharp nails raked down Jahke's sides, catching on his ribs and making his breath hitch, "So smooth and wanting. May I?" the question was not directed at Jahke's and while Shindae growled his approval the boy had barely time to think oh shit, before Sitka sunk sharp fangs into his shoulder. Jahke cried out but found himself shushed. He sank to the ground, falling into Sitka's lap as the demon curled around him, mouth and tongue lapping at the open wound in his flesh.

Jahke's vision snapped into sharp focus. The fire demon before him was dressed in an assortment of fabric, leather and fur and now a lion cloth was pushed aside to reveal a his swollen member, black as his skin and traced with fiery veins. Jahke's shut his eyes and teeth and pursed his lips. But Sitka's hand was on the back of his neck and again came the compulsion, the desire to do nothing, to become slack.

"Hey don't use too much," Shindae chastised his friend as with a thumb he open the pink lips of their captive, "I don't want a rag doll."

"He's strong," Sitka replied through a mouthful of blood, "And sweet, he'll be fine."

Shindae bent to taste the mouth of the human, plunging in to taste the sweetness of the innocent boy. Then he stood properly and brought the boy's lips to the tip of his cock. Pointed, tapered and ridged, his member throbbed with heat and horniness. Jahke's opened his mouth obediently and took the first part of his cock willingly, but as the boy's throat was forced open the light came back to his blue eyes and spluttered. Shindae put his hand in the boy's hair and thrust himself between the wet pink lips into that inviting warm. He felt the blunt teeth of the human and slapped him so hard it sent the boy's head ringing.

He presented his cock again and now Jahke took it like he knew he must. He had to comply with them or he knew he was going to die. The fire demon was holding his skull, thrusting back and forth as the throbbing off his cock grew.

Jahke's almost didn't notice the ripping of cloth but knew it when Sitka plunged a hot hand between his thighs and began to massage his own half hard erection. He did not want the pleasure which coursed through him, but could do nothing to ward it off and whimpered through the mouthful of demon heat in his mouth when he felt those short nailed fingers teasing his entrance.