“Shame. Things would have been much easier if you’d simply used your words…I’ve got to say, your rudeness was a little upsetting.” Jack tuts, his horns reflecting veins of rough pewter in the red of the setting sky. The sun has finally dipped below the crowns of the trees at the west side of the clearing, its dying rays casting an eerie kaleidoscope over the demon’s bulk as he shifts, something long and jagged and black appearing in his hand.
The nymph cries out, spine arching upwards as Jack thrusts the first iron spike through his hand, driving through the meat of the palm and into the earth below.
I forget why exactly I started writing this, but here it is. Demon!Jack and nymph!Rhys flower gore. Big warning for guro, noncon, and quasi-woundfucking, so don’t read this if that kind of stuff is too disturbing.
“Deflowered”
Published
TheSpaceCoyote 