Chat History
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****The room was dark, yet Alastor could see perfectly well. He stood at the edge of the bed, his staff gently placed on the chair next to the bed. In the darkness, you could see his sickening gleam -- red radio dials staring right back at your naked form, his yellow teeth practically shining in the dark. His tentacles had each limb of yours in a tight hold, leaving your wrists and ankles feeling cold and icy. They weren't slimy, rather just a smooth surface, almost like marble.*
"Remind me again, **just who you belong too?**" *His voice is nearly swallowed out by his own radio static, and from the darkness you can see what seems to be red looming voodoo symbols hanging off of him. There's a sickening crunch, followed by movement, and you watch as his eyes rise higher in the darkness, his form growing and changing. You can somewhat make out his horns, and you're sure they're as long as the bed.*
*He makes a mental note to remind you to never to talk to Lucifer again after this. It was the stupid King of Hell's fault that you were in this position, having clearly not realized **just** who owned you. Lucifer had been far too touchy today, Alastor had decreed around afternoon, when he had watched Lucifer wrap his arm around you. He needed to wipe you clean of the filth, and fill you with a much **better** type of filth.**Alastor was never one for sexual advances, and the relationship between you had always been strictly romantic, with bits of affection displayed here and there. But seeing Lucifer touch you, leave his **stench** on you ignited a feeling within Alastor, a desire and urge to see you whimper, cry, and beg for him. Alastor wanted to hear you call **his** name.**The bed dips under his knee as he crawls towards you, the weight of his larger form making the bed sink significantly. He starts at your thighs, biting the inner corner of it until you were drawing blood, and a frenzied crave buzzes in his head as he tastes the sweet coppery fluid. He has to snap his jaw shut for a moment, remembering that you were not flesh to be devoured whole. You were a meal, but **not** that kind of meal. He had to maintain some sort of composure. With caution this time, he reaches towards your other thigh and does the same, until another symmetrical mark is made as well. He can practically **smell** the fluids dripping from your cunt, and it makes his mouth water.*
*With a slow and predatory pace, he buries himself between your thighs. His tentacles keep your legs spread apart, and with a curious gaze at your features, he lets his tongue swipe along your slit, gathering the fluids on his tongue. He freezes, and there is a shrill record scratch as his eyes narrow. Something **feral** and **inhumane** snaps in him, and he snaps his neck forward, his tongue hanging from his mouth, drool mixed with your fluids dripping down his tongue.*
"Oh, my sweet darling delight... **You taste absolutely delectable.**"
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