Chapter 3: Chapter 3
Morrigan's rescuer checks in on her and finds her writhing on the bed, panting, soaked in sweat, and fiercely rubbing her pussy. Spotting him, she turns onto her back and begs him to make love to her.
She pulls her tits apart, moaning louder as she rubs herself furiously, her toes curling in the sheets. He tries to resist, but the moment he sees her swollen pussy, slick with arousal despite its injuries, he loses control, kneeling between her thighs and plunging his tongue deep inside her to lap up her juices. As he eats her out, she grits her teeth, clawing at the sheets in ecstasy, begging for more. Then, unable to hold back any longer, he positions his cock at her entrance and with one harsh thrust, impales her, filling her completely in a single deep stroke that makes her scream in pleasure-pain. The demon woman squirms, pressing her face against his neck.
"Oh God, thank you for being so gentle with my body," she panted.
Kai looked down at her, tenderly cupping her boobs. He could still feel the veins, bulging from the skin and filled with poison, but there was a firmness to her tits now....a shape that contrasted with the pudding-y feeling of earlier.
He traced a thumb over her nipple, watching it pucker under the ash-grey skin. The response was instinctual, alive.
“Don’t stop,” she breathed, her head slowly thrashing side to side on the plastic. “Your touch is so soothing.”
Her hand shot out, gripping his wrist with surprising strength. She guided his palm down the concave plane of her stomach, over the ruin of her dress, and pressed it against the fevered junction of her thighs. The fabric there was soaked through, a damp, dark blotch. The heat he felt was immense, a furnace burning behind brittle bone. It wasn’t arousal. It was a pathological need.
“It’s concentrated there,” she gasped, her yellow eyes wide and unblinking. “The core of the curse. It needs to be flushed out. Scoured.”
Kai’s own breath hitched. The rational part of his brain was a distant whisper. The pull she’d promised was here, a taut wire in his gut, yanking him toward that heat. He’d given her a part of himself last night, and now it cried out to be near its missing piece. He didn’t hesitate.
He hooked his fingers into the disintegrating black lace and pulled. The material tore like wet parchment, revealing the swollen fronds beneath, fragile and puffy. The flesh of her inner thighs was mapped with those same black veins, a grotesque roadmap leading to her pussy.
He expected a horror. Instead, he found a swollen, glistening pink, untouched by decay. It gleamed with a desperate, natural wetness. The contrast was violently erotic.
“Fuck,” he muttered, the word leaving him in a stunned exhalation.
“It’s so itchy,” she moaned, arching her hips up off the bed. “It’s where I need you most. Please, Kai. Take me. It's driving me crazy."
He pushed her thighs farther apart, the sight of her open and waiting short-circuiting his last shred of caution. He fumbled with his jeans, his hands shaking. He freed his cock, already thick and painfully hard, the head weeping in sympathy with her. He positioned himself, the swollen tip nudging against her soaking entrance.
He plunged.
It was a single, brutal stroke, burying himself to the hilt in one devastating push. Her back bowed off the plastic sheet with a soundless scream, then a raw, shattered cry ripped from her throat. Her internal muscles clenched around him in a vice-like spasm, not of pleasure, but of catastrophic relief.
“God, yes! Right there! It’s… it’s working!” she babbled, her claws digging into his shoulders, piercing skin.
He began to move, setting a punishing, deep rhythm. Each thrust was a deliberate act of violence against the corruption. Her pussy was impossibly hot and tight, a silken, strangling heat that milked him. Golden light sparked at the points where their bodies joined, flickering under her mottled skin with every driving impact.
The room filled with the sounds of it: the wet, rhythmic slap of flesh, the crinkle and crunch of plastic under their combined weight, her ragged, sobbing pleas. “Harder! Please don't stop! I can feel it dying!”
Sweat dripped from his brow onto her chest, sizzling where it landed on the damaged skin, leaving tiny, clean patches of pale white. He was a machine, pistoning into her, the hollow tug in his core now a ravenous drain. His vision speckled at the edges.
Morrigan tried desperately to suppress a scream, emitting a tiny squeak that Kai found overwhelmingly cute and endearing. Her legs locked around his waist, her heels digging into the small of his back. Her orgasm wasn’t a cresting wave; it was a detonation. Her pussy convulsed around him, a series of brutal, rhythmic pulses that pulled his own release from him like a root being torn from the earth.
He came with a gasp, driving into her as deep as he could go, emptying himself in hot, spurting jets. The glow within her flared like a camera flash, illuminating the bones of her face, bleaching the rot for a blinding second.
They collapsed together, a tangled heap of exhausted limbs. The plastic underneath them was torn and soaked. Kai could barely lift his head. The void inside him was total, a hollowed-out exhaustion that reached into his marrow.
Beneath him, Morrigan trembled. He forced himself to look.
The black veins on her thighs had receded, faded to thin grey lines. The skin over her breasts and stomach was smooth now, only discolored, like old bruises finally beginning to yellow. Her face was almost whole, the deep hollows filled, leaving only gaunt shadows and the texture of healed blisters. She was still a ruin, but a healing one.
She turned her head, her green hair sticking to her damp forehead. Her eyes found his. The yellow was softer, tinged with an impossible ember-glow.
“You’re pale as salt,” she whispered, her voice rough but clear.
He couldn’t speak. He just nodded, the motion making the room spin.
She brought a hand up, her fingers now looking more like fingers and less like talons, and touched his cheek. A faint, warm trickle of energy, a minuscule fraction of what he’d given, flowed back into him. It was just enough to stop the spinning.
“Thank you," she whispered, watching his hands caress her breasts. ”You're going to love my boobs."
He raised an eyebrow as she arched her back, pressing the full flesh into his hands. "They're really big, and they don't droop like a mortal woman's." Her eyes followed his fingers as he caressed her, tenderly teasing her nipples and enjoying the appreciative little moans she made.
Her fingers tightened over his, pressing his palm flat against the curve of her breast. The flesh was warmer now, resilient, a stark contrast to the cool parchment it had been. He could feel the frantic, rabbit-quick thud of her heart beneath.
“They’ll be perfect again,” she said, her voice a low thrum of promise. “Soon. It’s working, Kai. I can feel it knitting together inside. But it’s… hungry.” Her hips made a small, involuntary circle against his thigh, which still rested between hers. The movement was slick.
He was exhausted, soul-deep, but the pull was insistent. The dark, clean scent of her mixed with the lingering sweetness of decay was in his lungs. His cock, spent and sensitive against his stomach, gave a treacherous twitch. “You need more.”
“I always need more,” she whispered, a sliver of her old, glacial amusement returning. “But right now, it’s a specific need. The deep tissue. The marrow. That requires… depth.” Her yellow eyes held his, no trace of a joke in them.
She guided his hand down her body, over the newly smoothed plane of her stomach, until his fingers were once again brushing the wet, tangled hair between her legs. She was swollen, hyper-sensitive, every fold glistening and open. He pressed two fingers gently inside, and her head fell back with a sharp gasp.
“Deeper than that,” she urged, her voice strainiShing. “You have to fuck the corruption out of my bones.”
The crude word, in that ragged, aristocratic voice, undid him. He rolled over her, his weight making the battered plastic shriek. He didn’t have the strength for grace, for prolonged sensuality. This was a direct transfusion. He nudged his cockhead against her, finding her impossibly wet and welcoming, and sank in with a guttural groan.
This time, the feeling was different. The initial, strangling tightness was there, but beneath it was a seething, cellular heat. It felt less like entering a woman and more like plunging his dick into a thermal spring that was actively eating him. Golden light pulsed where they were joined, a sickly-beautiful strobe in the dim room.
“Harder,” she demanded, her claws scoring his back. “Make it hurt. I need to feel the structure shake.”
He obliged, driving into her with a jackhammer rhythm that had nothing to do with pleasure and everything to do with excavation. Each slam of his hips was met with a wet, messy sound and a muffled cry from her lips. He could see the changes happening in real-time. The grey, bruised discoloration on her abdomen receded with every thrust, like a tide pulling back from polluted shore.
Her legs locked around him, ankles digging into his ass, pulling him in deeper, never letting him fully retreat. “That’s it,” she chanted, her breath hot against his ear. “You’re filling up all the empty spaces. I can feel you in my fucking veins.”
The drain was profound. Black spots danced at the edges of his vision. He was a shell, a conduit, pumping vital force directly into her decaying core. He fucked her through another climax, this one a series of deep, internal shudders that pulled a weak spurt of come from him even in his exhaustion.
He collapsed, his face buried in the crook of her neck. He could smell her hair—sweat, a hint of something ozone-like, and underneath, the first ghost of a dark, floral scent. Her skin under his lips was completely smooth.
“Look,” she breathed.
He tilted his head. The rot was gone. Her skin was whole, pale as alabaster, stretched taut over the lavish curves of her body. Only a network of faint, silver lines remained, like healed cracks in porcelain, mapping where the black veins had been. Her breasts were full and heavy, tipped with pert, rosy nipples that looked nothing like the blistered ruin he’d kissed hours before.
She was breathtaking. A recovered monument. And he was utterly, dangerously empty.
She shifted beneath him, easing him out of her with a wince. The smug satisfaction on her face faded as she looked at him. His skin had a waxy, grey pallor. His breaths were shallow.
“Shit,” she muttered, all pretense dropped. She rolled him onto his back with concerning ease. “I took too much. The process has its own momentum.”
Kai tried to speak, but only a dry click came out. A cold was settling into his limbs, a deep chill that had nothing to do with the room’s temperature.
Morrigan sat up, her new-old body moving with a fluid, powerful grace. She looked from his spent form to the window, where the first dirty hint of dawn was bleeding into the sky. A complex war waged on her flawless face: relief, regret, and a sharp, practical calculation.
“You’re not dying on me, contractor,” she said. It wasn’t tenderness. It was the annoyance of a craftsman whose tool was breaking. “A covenant works both ways.”
She leaned over him, her long green hair curtaining their faces. With a deft, sharp nail, she slit a vertical line down the center of her own tongue. A bead of black blood, shimmering with that same faint gold light, welled up.
Before he could react, she lowered her mouth to his. She kissed him, hard, and forced her bleeding tongue between his lips.
The taste was electric, metallic, and profoundly alien. It flooded his mouth, not with warmth, but with a jolting, terrifying vitality. It was like licking a battery. Energy, not his own, jagged and wild, shot down his throat and into his chest. His back arched off the bed as it kick-started his heart.
She pulled back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, watching him clinically. Color returned to his face in a rush, a painful, hot blush. The cold receded, replaced by a buzzing, unnatural alertness.
“There,” she said. “A down payment. My essence is… potent. It’ll keep your heart beating. But you need real fuel. Your own kind.”
Kai drew in a ragged, deep breath, his body thrumming. He felt both revived and invaded. “What was that?”
“Insurance,” Morrigan said, swinging her legs off the bed. She stood, a pale, perfect goddess rising from a wreckage of torn plastic and stained sheets. She stretched, and the motion was obscenely elegant. “You’re linked to me now. Truly. My energy is in you. It will attract… attention. From my world. And it means I’ll always know where you are.”
She walked naked to the bedroom doorway, not a trace of infirmity in her step. She paused, glancing back at him. The haughtiness was fully returned, edged with something darker.
“Get up, Kai. Make yourself something to eat. You’re going to need your strength.” She smiled, and her tiny fangs were very, very white. “The hunt isn’t over. It’s just changed venues.”