Page 21 of Altar of Flesh

“I—apologise,” I said, and Furfur’s wrath withered away in moments. Beauty returned; Furfur stepped back into its graceful form.

“Then?” it whispered. “Will you let me touch you? Let me drop your anxious, fleeting mind back into your body?”

“Yes,” I said. “Step out of the circle.”

And so it did.

As if there had never been a barrier, Furfur daintily stepped over the circle’s grooves. Each step had a grace to it, a deliberate and measured approach. It looked up at me, its head lowered so half of its face was covered by its long curls. Those beautiful wings wrapped around its body, and only when it was close to me did it stretch them out wide, wide,wideuntil a great shadow fell upon us. Furfur reached out to me with strange gentleness, a hand on my waist as it pulled me close.

Very softly, it kissed me.

11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Iwent rigid. My heart raced, and my hands grew clammy with sweat. Emotions clashed in my mind—was I enjoying this? Was I afraid? Was this anxiety and anticipation, or was the way my stomach tilted because I found this unpleasant?

I realised I wasn’t sure. For me, pleasure had always been rough, sometimes violent; I understood the primal urge better than I understood intimacy. Furfur kissed me slowly, lips urging mine apart to drag its wet tongue against mine. Slowly, slowly, like the first hint of snowfall, a flake drifting to the ground as it’s carried by the wind—this was what kissing Furfur felt like. I forgot it was a demon. I felt the brush of feathers against my neck as its wing wrapped around the two of us. It smelt like sea brine and vanilla. The hand around my waist pulled me ever closer, and I—hesitant, shaking—dared to raise my hand to its cheek.

I had never been kissed like this. I had never been kissed without the urge behind it; I had never been kissed for the sake of being kissed.

“You are frightened,” it whispered as it pulled away from me, and though its voice curled sweetly with concern, I could see theglimmer of joy in its eyes. It enjoyed me like this—enjoyed that I was vaguely uncomfortable.

“Yes. I. . .”

“You do not have to say it,” it whispered, and it turned my head to the side to lick at my neck and my jaw.

It took minutes with me. Took its time. Whenever I reached up to press its head closer to me, whenever I bucked back, urging it to touch other parts of my body, it laughed sweetly and slowed its touches. Eventually, it began to lightly drag its fingers up and down my body. Once or twice, it thumbed over my nipple, but this was the most definitive touch I got for what seemed like an hour. It ran its fingers over my belly, skimmed over my hips and caressed close to my twitching cock, fingertips gentle as they teased. Indeed, Furfurwasteasing; I could hear on occasion a gentle laugh and see a pleased smile curling at its lips in my periphery. I tried to hold myself still against this tamed assault, but by Asmodeus, I craved more.

I whined. I bucked and twisted and twitched about; I leaned into this pathetic display to increase my chances of Furfur accidentally touching somewhere that desperately needed the friction.

“Stop that,” Furfur growled into my ear, sweet voice peeling back to reveal something more eager, more feral than it was letting on. A hand coiled up around my neck, and it pressed against the sides of my throat. “Lie down.”

I went to my knees first, practically thrashing out of Furfur’s grip in the hopes of speeding this along. It commanded me to turn, and I did, laying back on the warm stone and bringing my knees up.

Furfur went onto its knees, too, and those beautiful wings encompassed the pair of us like a shroud as they encircled us, a wing coming down on either side of my head. It leaned forward,hands planted beside my face, and brought itself down to kiss me.

The kiss and this position were almost adolescent; I wondered if this was what it would have been like if I had fumbled about with a boy in my youth.

“You are to do nothing but enjoy yourself,” Furfur purred to me. “Enjoy yourself to the point of delirium. But do not fake it, little human. I will know if you are lying to me.”

My stomach sank. Distantly, I became aware that I had intended just that; to draw on memories and throw myself about in pleasure because the lie behind those actions made them safer to me than my true reactions. It brought a hand to cup my cheek and urged me to nod. I did, resting only slightly against the support its palm offered.

Then, it began to kiss me again. My eyes fluttered closed. It was so much easier that way, easier to relax, easier to pretend I was alone. The act of being seen unnerved me. When I was beinghad, when I was beingused, it did not matter how I writhed or screamed. Those things did not embarrass me because I was there for another’s pleasure. But when the focus fell upon me, I grew afraid that all my failings and my ugliness would be on display. I grew frightened that the act of pleasuring me would grow boring or that whomever or whatever was touching me would realise spending time elsewhere would suit them better. I grew afraid that if I let my walls down enough to feel my body and the pleasure in it, I would grow to resent myself. Firstly, for what I had become and the vulgarity of it—for shame still lingered in my blood, no matter how many demons tried to fuck it out of me. Or perhaps it would be revealed that my enjoyment mattered to no one, that my use was in being a hole and nothing more. But more importantly, perhaps, I would grow to resent how frightened I had been—I was almost more scared about beingwrong. In enjoying the act of my pleasure, in focusing onmy body, in taking the time to touch it and enjoy it foronlyme, I would realise again how long I had waited. I would learn something uncomfortable about myself during the act, and I would realise I had more worth than the flesh I offered others to fuck.

What then? What if, somewhere in this act, I realised I had made a mistake coming here?

Furfur must have felt the speed of my pulse against its lips; I could practically feel the vein throbbing with speed.

“Shhh,” Furfur cooed to me. “Think of nothing but my lips on you. Feel nothing except the pleasure of it. Stay grounded in this moment, little lamb. Do not let your mind grow foggy with your fear.”

It—was a hard ask, but I tried. I focused on the way Furfur’s fingers touched me, on the smell of its wings and the way those feathers sometimes grazed across my outflung arms. The creature wet its mouth and licked gently down my body, each touch firm and deliberate but without fervour behind it. It took a nipple into its mouth, sucking gently, its tongue rolling over it. The other nipple was placed between forefinger and thumb to squeeze gently, twist this way and that and tugging occasionally, but never so hard I cried out in pain. Just enough pressure to send jolts of pleasure tingling down into my core. My cock grew steadily thicker, and I tried to reach down andsqueezethere—except Furfur stopped me, not harshly. It shushed me again and stroked its fingers over my stomach. I let my head fall back, and I closed my eyes as it teased and touched me.

It dropped lower over minutes, tonguing me, stroking me. My breathing went erratic as I shivered and jolted beneath it. Then it moved lower until its mouth was hovering over my cock.

I craned to look down at it. What a thing of beauty. It stared at me through heavy-lidded eyes, its curls tickling my lower stomach and inner thighs. The sight of that alone mademy cock throb. It jumped towards Furfur’s mouth, which parted slightly. Its lips were stained a pinkish red, and a flush had crept onto its cheeks. I wanted to call out to God, suddenly—for this face was so beautiful, so angelic, I almost forgot where I was and who I had pledged myself to. Very carefully, the angelic-looking demon wrapped a hand around my cock, pulled down the foreskin, and brought its lips over the glands.

I moaned roughly. Furfur only laughed lightly, pulling back to lick sensually at the slit where precum had gathered and begun to ooze free. At my side, I balled my fists, gripping nothing but my own flesh. Anticipation tugged like a string in my belly, and I grunted as I watched Furfur wet its mouth again, pooling saliva on its tongue. It looked up at me and swallowed my cock whole.

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