Clay fidgeted in his seat. He used to love wearing suits that made him look smart but today it just all felt scratchy and unnatural on his skin.

He tugged on his sleeves and adjusted his collar. Tom had taken him out to a fancy restaurant again. He appreciated the thoughtfulness and was looking forward to the food but he couldn’t help but be restless.

It had been a week since he and Tom reunited and they’d been spending a lot of time together since. Instead of feeling refreshed and invigorated as he was sure he should have, all Clay had to show for the time together was frayed nerves.

Clay managed a smile at Tom when their eyes met and got a smile in return. It should have been heartwarming, the way Tom looked at him, but he just wanted to puke instead.

He had to wonder if Tom was stupid or blind for not noticing the contempt behind Clay’s fake smiles and kisses. He didn’t particularly think of himself as a good actor, so it couldn’t be that he was just that convincing.

Clay had spent the week wondering when Tom would notice that he was just pretending to be a doting boyfriend but the guy was oblivious. He’d even mockingly repeated "I love you" to Tom at some point and only gotten an eager "I love you too," in response.

He couldn’t fucking stomach it. Here he was, on the brink of a breakdown, jittery from the fact he hadn’t gotten his fix of demon dick in a week, and Tom was sitting across from him with a dopey little smile, blissfully unaware of the hunger that was gnawing at his insides.

He was so goddamn horny that he could scarcely keep his hands off of himself. If it were up to him and he had to spend time with Tom, he’d rather be bouncing on a dildo—the biggest one he could find—while Tom watched.

What Clay really wanted, though, was Briar. He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to get railed by the hunky demon.

He just wanted to be split open, fucked silly, and treated like nothing more than a piece of fuckmeat. He couldn’t stand the way Tom treated him like a person. It disgusted him. He didn’t deserve it. Not after he cheated on Tom with a demon.

Clay stood abruptly, bumping against the edge of the table in the process. The utensils tinkled as they rocked against each other and Tom grabbed the table to hold it steady. "I-I’ll just go to the bathroom," he said.

"Oh, sure, babe. It’s down there and to the left," said Tom. "Hopefully the food will be here when you get back."

"Thanks," said Clay. He turned away before Tom could notice the very big, very prominent bulge in his pants. He’d given himself a raging erection with the mere thought of summoning Briar in a restaurant bathroom.

It wasn’t like Tom was a complete disappointment. He’d warmed up to rougher sex ever since that time Clay had asked to be choked. The frustrating part was that he still insisted on being caring while doing it.

What Clay needed, however, was someone willing to show him his place. Someone who delighted in trampling his ego and showing him that the only purpose he served in life was to be a fuckhole.

Briar was the only one he could lean on for that. He craved the brutal way Briar made use of him. The demon had utterly ruined him for the gentle, caring lovemaking he used to love so much.

As he shuffled into the bathroom, Clay had to wonder when, exactly, he’d started to internalize Briar’s words. Maybe it was the moment he looked Tom in the eye and said that everything was alright.

Because everything wasn’t alright. Clay had cheated on Tom. Repeatedly. There were no ifs, ands, or buts about it. He’d cheated. He was scum.

The good, moral thing to do would have been to own up to his mistakes but instead, he’d hidden them. He’d gone on pretending as if he was the faithful and loving boyfriend he used to be.

He’d made himself a liar. All because he didn’t want to lose Tom. He wanted to have his cake and eat it too, to get his hole ruined by a demon while being embraced by a loving and doting boyfriend.

It was disgusting. It was reprobate. He didn’t deserve the love and the kindness and the tenderness but part of him just couldn’t do without it.

It was proof of what Briar had been saying all along. Humans weren’t moral creatures. They were creatures of desire. They did things because they felt good, not because they were good.

In a sick sort of way, the time he’d spent with Tom this past week helped Clay realize his appreciation for the way Briar treated him. At least Briar didn’t put a liar and a cheat like him on a pedestal. Briar treated him the way he deserved to be treated: like a pair of holes that was only good for fucking and breeding.

Tom loved him too much to treat him the way he deserved to be treated. Tom would never slap him around the way he craved. Tom, his beautiful, beloved Tom, was still a human caught up in the delusion that he was anything but fuckmeat for his betters.

"Briar!" Clay called out as he closed the door behind him. "Please!"

He staggered toward the sink. He was pretty sure he’d locked the door but he didn’t know for certain. He didn’t care, anyway. He needed his fix, and he needed it fast.

Briar melted out of the shadow, surrounded by wisps of smoke and drifting cinders. The corners of his mouth curled in a devilish smirk as he came up behind Clay and wrapped his hands around Clay’s shoulders.

"You called?" said Briar, baring his teeth in a vicious grin.

The last time Clay had seen Briar, the demon had horns. His appearance now was decidedly more fiendish. The stubs at his temples had grown into magnificent horns that curved up and over his head. They gleamed in the light, polished like black glass.

Briar’s teeth were sharp and menacing, his skin tinted with a hint of red. His hands and feet were dark—almost black as if covered in a fine layer of soot—with the color extending past the wrists and ankles. The discoloration faded back into his natural complexion toward his elbows and knees.

As always, Briar was naked. His cock was huge. Bigger than the last time Clay beheld its glory. The thick vein along the underside was even more prominent and mouth-watering than before.

The glans was swollen and glistening, pre-cum dripping from the piss slit. The musk was intense, heady, and intoxicating, filling Clay’s lungs with every breath.

Along the shaft were evenly spaced fleshy bumps. They weren’t large, each one about the size of a small bead. They should have freaked Clay out but instead, all he could think of was how they would feel rubbing his cunt lips while Briar pounded him.

"Have you been enjoying your time with your beau?" said Briar. His knowing smirk implied the question was more of the rhetorical variety.

"It’s driving me crazy," said Clay as he leaned against the marble counter of the sink. "He’s not enough. He’s not big enough. He’s not rough enough."

Clay looked up. He glared at Briar’s reflection in the vanity. "You’ve ruined me!" he said, his voice echoing in the small, single-occupant bathroom. "I can’t go five minutes without thinking about your cock."

Briar smirked.

"I feel empty," said Clay, his breathing growing heavy as Briar’s proximity flushed his body with heat. "Even when he’s fucking me, I feel empty. I hate that I miss the sensation of your cock bruising my guts!"

Despite the anger in his voice, Clay was frantically undressing as he ranted. He whipped his necktie off, flinging it at the mirror. His jacket went next, landing on the tile floor next to his foot.

He didn’t even bother to take his dress shirt off. He yanked it out of his pants and grabbed the two halves. With a grunt, he pulled them apart, the buttons popping off and plinking against the mirror and the sink.

Hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his dress pants, Clay forced it down his legs. His belt made it difficult but he didn’t have the time or the wherewithal. He was desperate.

Clay collapsed against the sink, bent over with half his ass showing past the waistband of his pants. "Just… Just please fuck me already!" he begged. "I-I need your dick so bad!"

Briar laughed. He smacked one of Clay’s ass cheeks hard. The sharp clap echoed in the bathroom, followed by the pained whine that issued from Clay. "I’m glad you’re finally acknowledging the truth of what you are," he said.

Clay lowered his eyes and nodded shamefully. He gulped, swallowing whatever dregs of pride and dignity he might have had left.

He couldn’t deny the truth anymore. "You were right…" he said. His voice was no louder than a whisper and yet the words rang in his ears so loudly he might as well have screamed them at the top of his lungs.

Clay looked up, his eyes meeting the reflection of Briar’s. "All I care about is the pleasure," he said, arching his back as Briar’s talons sliced through his belt like a hot knife through butter.

"All I want is to serve with my body." He licked his lips and moaned as Briar yanked his pants down. "I don’t know how to be treated like a person anymore. You made sure of that. You made me need to feel like I’m fuckmeat."

Briar laughed. "There’s one thing you’re wrong about, hole," he said as he lined his cock up with Clay’s ass. "I didn’t make you feel like fuckmeat. You are fuckmeat. You always have been."

Clay moaned, bucking his hips against Briar’s crotch. He worked his ass, rubbing his crack up and down the length of Briar’s hardness.

"This is more like it," said Briar as he grabbed Clay by the hips. "I was getting impatient, to be honest. It was honestly embarrassing to have a toy that still believed it was a person."

It. Such a simple change in pronouns and yet so objectifying it sent a thrill of pleasure through Clay’s body. "I-I’m just a toy," he groaned.

Briar grinned. He slammed his cock into Clay without any warning or preparation, sending Clay spilling out over the sink. "I think it’s about time you sold your soul to me, fuckmeat," he said.

Clay’s eyes rolled back in his head. The pain of his middle slamming into the edge of the sink didn’t even register past the utter relief and sheer ecstasy he felt as his hole stretched around the considerable girth of Briar’s cock.

It was bigger than before and the feeling of those bumps stroking his cunt lips on the way in was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before.

"I-I’ll sell my body. M-my soul. M-my life," Clay gasped as the pleasure overwhelmed him and short-circuited whatever sense of self-preservation he might have had left. "I-I’ll do anything as long as you keep using me like the fuckmeat I really am!"

Briar laughed. "That won’t be a problem, hole," he said. He moved one hand up from Clay’s hip to Clay’s lower back, using the leverage to fuck Clay even harder against the countertop. The force was such that with Briar’s very first thrust the marble cracked.

He then reached down, slipping his other hand under Clay to wrap his fingers around Clay’s throat. He squeezed hard, strangling a moan out of Clay.

He yanked Clay back up at such a severe angle and with such force that a normal human’s spine might have snapped. Not Clay, though. His time with Briar had changed him. His body could take abuses no normal human could.

Briar moved his hand from Clay’s lower back to Clay’s front. He grabbed the chain connecting Clay’s piercings and pulled with all the strength he could muster.

Clay would have cried out if not for the fingers clamped firmly around his neck. His nipples felt like they were going to fall off, exquisite agony flooding through his body.

His insides burned from the heat of Briar’s cock. He felt as if his ass was going to get torn apart as the bumps on Briar’s shaft scraped his walls.

Despite the pain, his brain sank into a blissful and hazy sort of euphoria that made every part of him tingle with pleasure.

Briar’s only fucked Clay harder. He was like a bull in a rut, pounding Clay’s hole without mercy.

Clay made a vain attempt at holding on to the edge of the sink but failed. Tears streamed down his face, but not because of the pain. They were tears of relief. He finally felt as if everything had been set right with the world.

A part of him was terrified about what it meant for him. He didn’t even know the first thing about the extent to which Briar had twisted him, body and mind.

He wondered if he could ever feel like a person again—if he could regain the pride and dignity Briar had stripped from him. Somehow, he didn’t think so. Acknowledging as much made his cock throb.

Darkness set in at the corners of Clay’s vision. His lungs burned from the lack of air. Just as he was about to pass out, Briar released him, giving him just enough time to suck in a single tremulous breath and exhale it before choking him again.

Clay squirmed as the long, hard strokes kept coming. Briar was twisting his insides around, churning his guts.

The low growl that vibrated through Briar’s chest as he redoubled his pace sent chills down Clay’s spine. Somehow he knew, deep down, what was coming.

Harder and harder, Briar’s hips slammed into Clay’s ass. It was so forceful Clay felt as if his hips might crack or dislocate. It was terrifying and titillating in equal measure.

With a feral snarl and a vicious bite into the space between Clay’s neck and shoulder, Briar slammed his cock into Clay and came.

The moment Clay felt the molten heat of Briar’s cum pulsing in his ass, he reached his own orgasm. His straining cock throbbed and swelled, his balls drawing up against his body. Seven thick ropes of cum shot out of him and splattered on the mirror, dripping down as his stomach bloated with the sheer volume of Briar’s load.

Clay felt faint from the force of the orgasm. The pressure inside him built and built as Briar’s orgasm went on.

He felt as if he was on the brink of bursting and yet more kept coming. His stomach gurgled, inflating larger and large until he felt something give and he heaved.

Clay threw up, cum bubbling out of his throat and splattering all over the sink. He coughed, spewing even more onto the cracked countertop.

Just like that, Briar unceremoniously released Clay and pulled out. "Well done, fuckmeat," he said with a little smirk. "Now, don’t call me again for an hour or so if that sweet cunt hasn’t had enough yet. I have something to do."

Clay groaned, his stomach wobbling as he tried to push himself back to his feet. "W-wait…"

"Really can’t stay, hole," said Briar. "Big meeting with the other big bads. But don’t worry, that load should hold you over for a little bit at least."

Clay shuddered and held himself when Briar left. Now that he’d come, the post-orgasmic lucidity hit him like a ton of bricks. He let out a broken sob, only to freeze when he heard the door open.

"Clay, baby?"

Clay’s heart jumped into his throat.

"What happened?"

---

Tom rubbed Clay’s shoulders. "I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about any of this," he said.

It was funny. Besides the bite mark Briar had left, Clay’s shoulders were about the only part of him that didn’t ache. "Would you have believed me?" he said rather testily as he shrugged Tom’s hand off of him.

Tom scratched his cheek. "I don’t know, to be honest," he said.

"That’s why."

Tom sighed. "You didn’t let me finish. I might not have believed a demon was fucking you but I would have at least believed that something was haunting you," he said.

Clay quirked an eyebrow. "You’re just saying that," he said.

Tom shook his head. "No. Not at all. There’s a part of me that’s always wanted—no, believed that magic was real. That ghosts and spirits roamed this world alongside us."

Clay laughed bitterly. "That would have been helpful to know before I decided to hide everything. I thought you’d think I was a freak."

Tom chuckled. "In my defense, I didn’t say anything because I thought you might think I was a freak."

Shaking his head, Tom continued. "Anyway, what’s important is that I know now. You don’t have to deal with this alone. We can figure out what to do. Together."

Clay looked over his shoulder at Tom. "Do you really think we can do something about Briar?" he said, chewing on his lower lip. Even the mere thought of the demon had his cock getting plump. "He’s really powerful."

Tom nodded. "I do," he said. "As long as we’re together."

Clay had his doubts but knowing Tom was in his corner helped. For the first time in a while, he had hope. He didn’t know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, though. Only time would tell.

---

Clay blew out the rosewood splint he’d used to light the fifth and final sacramental candle arranged around the ritual circle. He watched the thin stream of smoke rising from the ember as it slowly died out. The arousal inside him coiled and curled like smoke, sending shivers through his body.

He was holding on by sheer force of will but he was at the end of his rope. His body craved Briar’s touch, his hole throbbing desperately for demon cock.

Clay clutched the robe tight around his body as Tom poured the last of the holy water into the bowls placed at the antipodes of the candles. His cock was tenting the smooth, velvety fabric in the front, a wet spot forming at the tip.

"There," said Tom. He set aside the jug of holy water and dusted off his hands as he stood up. "That should be everything."

"Careful. Don’t slip," said Clay as Tom tiptoed out of the ritual circle. Perhaps it was a bad idea to scatter the rosary beads inside the ritual circle.

"I know, babe," said Tom. "How are you holding up?"

Clay shook his head. "Not good," he admitted. Sweat trickled down the side of his face. He was slipping back into a dark headspace, starting to think of himself as fuckmeat that only Briar’s cock could satisfy.

"It won’t be long now," said Tom. He gently squeezed Clay’s arms and hugged him tightly.

"Do you think it will work?" said Clay.

Tom nodded. "I know it will," he said.

Clay wished he had Tom’s confidence. He wasn’t sure how effective the ritual would turn out to be but it was the best they had after consulting with a hedge witch Tom found on the internet.

The guy was the genuine article. Clay had been wary after being burned once but the hedge witch had performed a spell for them to prove himself.

The problem was that the hedge witch had no experience with demonic exorcisms. The best the man could do was construct a reversing ritual based on the original summoning circle. It was an educated guess based on the principles of magic that the hedge witch had learned through painstaking trial and error. It wasn’t a silver bullet.

Tom shrugged. He must have noticed Clay’s skepticism. "It’s better than giving up, at least," he said.

Clay smiled. "It’s definitely that," he said, shivering as the need inside him flared. "Fuck. So empty…"

"Hey." Tom gently shook Clay out of the trance he’d accidentally slipped into. "I’m here, baby. We’ve got this."

Clay nodded and swallowed thickly. "I know," he said with a small smile. "Thank you for being here."

It was thanks to Tom that he was able to hold on. The man had the patience of a saint. He’d treated Clay like a person no matter how much he demanded to be treated like less. And little by little, he’d pulled Clay out of the muck.

"I don’t want you in the room for the ritual," said Clay.

Tom frowned. "We talked about this, babe. I want to be here for you."

"I know. I know. I just…" Clay took a deep, shaky breath. For some reason, he felt as if something bad was about to happen. It was nothing more than a premonition but he felt it in his gut.

Clay looked into Tom’s eyes. "I don’t want you to get caught up in this."

"I’m sorry, babe. But your problems are my problems." Tom smiled. His determination was truly admirable. "We’re in this together."

It made the guilt in the pit of Clay’s stomach even more bitter. "Okay," he said. He didn’t have the heart or the willpower to argue about this. "But stay safe."

"I will," said Tom. He leaned in and kissed Clay. "Come back to me, okay?"

Clay nodded. He stripped off the robe and gingerly made his way toward the bed. They’d moved it into the middle of the ritual circle, just so Clay could have somewhere to lie down while the ritual was underway.

"Ready?" said Tom as Clay clambered into bed.

Clay’s body flushed with heat. He squeezed his eyes shut, fingers clutching the sheets as he rolled over onto his back. His cock strained. His hole twitched. It took every fiber of his being not to call out to Briar then and there.

"As I’ll ever be."

---

Clay squirmed on top of the mattress. The sensation of the sheets against his skin was almost too much, making his cock twitch. He was burning up from the inside with need, more acutely aware of the emptiness in his ass than ever before.

Turned on as he was, he missed his nipple rings. He’d taken them off because they reminded him of Briar but he’d liked them. He missed the weight on the sensitive nubs, the way the chain dragged across his skin when he squirmed.

Maybe it was for the better, though. Clay was struggling with maintaining control as it was. If he still had his nipple rings, he wasn’t sure how well he’d be able to hold on.

He cast a final sidelong glance at Tom before he turned his gaze to the ceiling and called out "Briar!"

The first sign of the demon’s arrival was the scattering of a few glowing embers followed by trails of smoke. They swirled in the air above the bed, the smoke billowing thicker and thicker until the cloud was dispersed by a strong gust.

Hovering over the bed where the cloud of smoke had been was Briar in what must have been his true form. His skin was a deep crimson, which was at its richest and most vibrant in the middle of his chest. His fingers and toes were tipped with vicious claws. His hands and feet were charred black, the color extending past his wrists and ankles, fading to red past the elbow and knee like a lighter and lighter dusting of soot.

From his back sprouted a pair of batlike wings with velvety black membranes crisscrossed by veins of molten heat. Behind him swished a slender, prehensile tail with a spade-like tip.

The mere sight of Briar sent Clay’s lust into overdrive. His back arched off the bed, his cock straining with need.

"I was wondering when you’d call," said Briar. He bared his teeth in a wicked grin. They were all sharp and filed to a point.

Briar was as handsome as ever. His gaze was filled with a predatory and covetous hunger. The whites of his eyes had been replaced by deepest black, and his irises had turned the color of burnished gold that glowed like embers.

The instincts etched into Clay’s body by Briar’s cock surged to the forefront. With a shuddering gasp and a groan, he spread his legs, his head filling with a smothering haze of arousal.

His gaze traveled upward, to the pair of sleek black horns that sprouted from Briar’s temples. They curved back along the contours of his skull before turning upward and ending in wickedly sharp points.

The horns were polished to a gleam, almost as if they were pieces of black glass. Their lustrous surfaces shimmered, reflecting the dancing light of the crown of fire that they framed between them.

Clay gulped audibly. He was supposed to be doing something—something important. But it was so hard to think, his head so stuffed, his body so empty.

"F-fuck me," he breathed. He could scarcely think of anything else as his gaze wandered down past Briar’s face.

His eyes lingered briefly on the firm shelf of Briar’s chest. They slid over the rigid cobbles of Briar’s stomach, drinking in every crevice and filling him with even more aching need.

And then, Clay saw it. He forgot to breathe for a moment, eyes widening as he beheld the glory that rose from between Briar’s legs.

It was bigger by far than the last time they were together. It was a deep red like the rest of Briar, the head tapered almost like the end of a harpoon.

Along the length were fleshy spines spaced evenly apart. They looked intimidating—or should have, at least—but all Clay could think about was how they would feel rubbing against his insides.

Clay raised his legs even further, grabbing the backs of his knees and pulling back to expose his throbbing cunt. "P-please, Briar!" he whined, his body wracked with a need he couldn’t ignore. "Breed me. Ruin me. Break me with your fat demon dick, please!"

Briar landed on the bed and knelt between Clay’s legs. The corner of his mouth curled in a little smirk as he grabbed the base of his cock and tapped the head on Clay’s quivering quim.

"Look how easily you slip into being good little fuckmeat," he said as he reached down with his free hand to cradle the side of Clay’s face. "How can you say it isn’t natural to be like this when just a whiff of my cock is enough to turn you into a desperate little cum sock?"

Clay moaned, his body flushing at the humiliation. He’d missed Briar’s casual denigration more than he’d imagined. "I-I’m your desperate little cum sock," he breathed, his insides fluttering at the utterance.

In the back of his mind, he faintly remembered that there was something he was supposed to be doing but his head was so fuzzy he could barely string coherent thoughts together.

"Clay! Focus!" a voice cut through the haze of lust. A familiar voice. A voice that was closer than Clay knew it should have been.

Clay’s eyes widened. He suddenly remembered. He glanced to the side and saw that Tom wasn’t by the wall as he was supposed to be.

Adrenaline pumped through Clay’s body. His mind, momentarily freed from the grasp of Briar’s influence, seized upon the words of the chant that the hedge witch had taught him.

"In nomine patri…" Clay drew upon the well of magic within him and channeled his power into the ritual circle. The flow wasn’t quite right, turbulent instead of smooth, but he powered through anyway.

The flames in the candles burned brighter. The smell of rosewood and incense filled the air. Clay took it all as a sign that the ritual was working and continued. He intoned the words as they came to him, "…et fili et spiritus—"

Fingers wrapped tightly around Clay’s throat, choking out the rest of the words. "Do you sincerely believe that a trifling ritual like this is enough to rid you of me?" said Briar with a dark laugh that seemed to fill the room and boom from every direction at once.

With a single flap of Briar’s wings, the scent of incense in the air was obliterated. It was replaced with the smell of smoke and brimstone.

All at once, the candles guttered out. The wax melted without burning, dripping down the sides of the candlesticks.

The various other holy things in the ritual circle burned to ash that scattered in the wind and the holy water boiled away, leaving behind only a tarry residue in the bowls.

Clay’s heart sank. He turned to Tom, eyes frantic. He mouthed a single word. "Run."

Before Tom could even react, however, Briar’s tail shot out and wrapped around his neck. Clay watched helplessly as Tom was lifted off his feet and flung into the side of the bed, the slender appendage proving to have far more strength than its appearance suggested.

Still reeling from the impact, Briar dragged Tom onto the bed. With his tail, he pulled him up to the headboard so he could be next to Clay.

"So this is the pest that’s been getting in the way," said Briar, his voice low and malevolent in a way it had never been before.

Briar rubbed his thumb over Clay’s cheek as he said, "And you were making such good progress, hole. It’s such a shame this guy just had to make you regress."

A vicious smirk curled the corners of Briar’s lips. "No matter how far I drag you into the muck, this guy will be here to pull you right back up."

Clay wanted to protest but with the hand around his neck, he couldn’t even muster the strength to speak. To make matters worse, his clarity was slipping. The haze was creeping into his head, his body aching once again with need.

Briar leaned down and licked the side of Clay’s face. His tongue was inhumanly wrong, ending with a forked tip that toyed with the line of Clay’s jaw.

A moan bubbled out of Clay. The heat of Briar’s body. The intoxicating scent of his musk. It was all too much. The haze rushed in, his pussy throbbing. "P-please…" he begged as thoughts of Tom slipped out of his head.

"Don’t worry, fuckmeat. I’ll make sure you can stay down here in the mud where you belong. I’ll just have to make sure your guardian angel here sinks into the muck right beside you." said Briar. The rich, dark chuckle that rumbled out of his chest sent a thrill of pleasure through Clay.

Tom, who’d recovered from the daze of being slammed into the side of the bed, gritted his teeth and mustered the strength to call out. "C-Clay! D-don’t listen to him! Y-you have to figh—guh!"

Whatever else Tom might have had to say was strangled by Briar’s tail tightening around his neck. He clawed at it but his fingernails slid uselessly off the smooth flesh. It was coiled tight, leaving no room for purchase.

Tom struggled with all his might. He kicked with his legs trying to find leverage or some way to wrench himself free but Briar was stronger than any human could possibly hope to overcome.

Briar turned his attention to Clay as he pinned Tom against the headboard with his tail. He released his throat and said, leaning in so his words could be spoken right into Clay’s ear, "I’m going to turn your beau into brain-dead cock-drunk fuckmeat just like you. If you have any objections, you should say so. Otherwise, well…"

Clay heard the words but they didn’t really register. His body was on fire. He needed Briar. He wiggled his hips, rubbing his hole on the uncomfortably hot head of Briar’s cock, and moaned "C-cock. Please!"

Briar laughed. He looked away from Tom for a moment, locking eyes with Tom instead. "Hear that?" he said. "No objections."

Tom’s eyes widened. He looked at Clay, croaking pathetically as he tried and failed to reach him.

"Mmm. Nothing like terror to make the appetite stronger," Briar cooed. "Don’t worry, little bug. You’ll learn to enjoy being fuckmeat."

Tom whimpered and flinched as Briar reached out to cup the side of his face. "Oh, yes. You’ll learn to love it. It’s far better than pretending to be a person. It doesn’t come with all the baggage."

Briar flicked the tip of his tail at Tom’s cheek. "Just think about how much better your life would be without the burden of all those worries and responsibilities and silly morals that tie you down."

With a flick of his wrist, Briar unceremoniously knocked Clay off the bed and took his place. Clay landed on the floor with a thump and a groan as he lay down on his back next to Tom.

Briar pushed himself up by the elbows, leaning his shoulders against the headboard so he wouldn’t be flat on the mattress. He spread his legs, planting his feet on top of the sheets and angling his hips so his ass would be accessible.

"Hey fuckmeat. Climb on if you want demon dick," Briar called down to the side of the bed Clay had fallen off of.

Clay jumped up and nearly tripped over himself in his mad scramble to crawl back on top of the mattress. "Y-yes! I-I want demon dick!" he said.

There was a frenzy in his eyes as he crawled over Briar and straddled his hips. He groaned as he moved his ass into position, his pussy eager to envelop the heat of Briar’s cock.

"Face the other way, hole," said Briar. "I want you to show your fellow fuckmeat how good it feels to serve your purpose as a cock socket."

Clay licked his lips and nodded, turning his back to Briar as he hovered his ass over Briar’s cock. He took a breath, his legs trembling.

Cock. Cock. Cock. That single refrain pounded in his head as he lowered himself onto Briar’s hardness. The tapered point slid inside with little resistance.

The potent pre-cum was uncomfortably hot as it seeped inside Clay but like before it only made his insides tingle. Euphoria filled the haze in Clay’s mind, drowning out any thoughts besides being fuckmeat.

With a desperate, strangled cry he plunged himself down, impaling his ass on Briar’s cock. It slid into him with ease, the fleshy spines making his asshole spasm with pleasure as they passed by.

The bulge traveled up past his navel as he took Briar hilt-deep. He could almost feel it poking his stomach. Or maybe it was the back of his throat.

Clay whined. Briar’s fully demonized cock hurt like nothing else. It was so big it was tearing him in half and it was so hot he felt as if it was searing his guts, cooking him from the inside out.

Despite the agony, he could scarcely help himself. It felt so good and so right inside him. He ground his hips against Briar’s, scraping his insides with the fleshy spines and shuddering at the peculiar sensation.

At the same time, Briar dragged Tom away from the headboard and flipped him over onto his stomach. Tom tried to fight, bracing his arms against the bed to try and push off the mattress but Briar just tightened his tail until Tom grew faint from the lack of oxygen.

Clay barely registered when Tom collapsed on top of the sheets, eyes glassy and arms limp. He was just so, so full of demon dick. And it felt so, so good he could scarcely think of anything else.

He bounced his ass on Briar’s cock, moaning as it plunged in and out of his soft, yielding ass cunt. He leaned forward so he wouldn’t need his arms to balance and reached up to yank and twist his nipples.

Briar dragged Tom between his legs just as the latter was beginning to regain his composure. With the strength of his tail, he shoved Tom face-first into his ass and Clay got to watch as Briar’s hefty balls came to a rest on the bridge of Tom’s nose while his nostrils were mashed up against Briar’s taint.

Though he was plainly overpowered, Tom did not give up. He resisted with all his might, angry noises of protest escaping him only to be muffled by the meat of Briar’s ass.

"You should be honored, fuckmeat. You have the honor of kissing your better’s asshole," Briar sneered at Tom as he placed one hand on Clay’s hip. At the same time, he used the other to rub the bulge of his cock in Clay’s belly.

Clay moaned and threw his head back. The added pressure of Briar’s hand on his stomach intensified the sensation of the spines massaging his chute.

The pleasure was beyond description. It felt like nothing he’d ever felt before.

During the week leading up to today, he and Tom had fucked. Both to satisfy Clay’s horniness and to remind him of what it was like to be made love to. In the course of their exertions, Tom had deposited load after load inside of Clay.

At the time, Clay had loved it. He’d thought it was a step in the right direction, Tom’s cum taking the place of Briar’s, filling him with care and tenderness instead of contempt.

It was different now. As he bounced his ass on Briar’s cock he couldn’t help but be disgusted. He imagined his guts crusted with Tom’s worthless, inadequate, filthy fuckmeat cum and fantasized that the spines on Briar’s cock were cleaning it all out, leaving space for that precious demon cum to seep into his body.

"Mm. Where’s your leash, fuckmeat?" said Briar as the hand on Clay’s stomach wandered up to twist a nipple.

Briar chuckled. "Ah, that must have been the pest’s doing," he said, tightening his tail around Tom’s neck to express his displeasure. "No matter. I can give you something better."

Clay hissed, back arching as a searing pain shot through his nipple. He gasped, his asshole spasming around the girth of Briar’s cock as he continued to move himself up and down along the length of it.

He looked down. There was a black nipple ring dangling from the nipple Briar had twisted. A diamond-shaped weight dangled from, feeling hot against Clay’s skin where it rested.

Briar reached across to the other nipple and gave it the same treatment. Then, he drew his fingers between the two, connecting them with a heavy black chain that tugged on both.

The chain came with its own weight hooked through the middle. The diamond-shaped lump of iron was bigger and heavier than the other two. It yanked on Clay’s nipples, sending fresh waves of pain and pleasure through them every time he bounced on Briar’s cock.

As the pain and the pleasure continued to course through Clay, washing away any progress he might have made at clawing back his humanity, he sank deeper and deeper into the lust-filled madness Briar had stoked inside him.

Up and down. Up and down. He didn’t stop. Not when he felt weary. Not when his thighs burned. Briar’s cock felt so good he couldn’t get enough and he needed to feel the molten heat of the demon’s cum surging inside him before he was satisfied.

A muffled, furious scream drew Clay’s attention. He looked down, past his hard cock, past Briar’s heavy balls. He was surprised there was someone down there, between Briar’s legs, face buried in Briar’s ass.

Faintly, he recognized those eyes. He’d seen them before…somewhere. They looked up at him now, pleading.

Something inside Clay felt a twinge of guilt. Of sadness. But he ignored it. He shook his head. No. No matter how pretty those eyes were, how much his heart ached to see them so filled with sadness, he wasn’t willing to share Briar’s cock.

A small part of Clay felt that something was wrong. That the guy between Briar’s legs was supposed to be important. That he wasn’t supposed to be riding the fat demon dick and instead doing something else.

It made no sense. Clay was fuckmeat so he was supposed to spend his days getting fucked. He was nothing but a hole. What else was he supposed to do?

And the person between Briar’s legs couldn’t possibly be important. He was just fuckmeat, too. Briar was their superior. Briar was the only important person in the room.

Clay shook his head. It hurt his head to think. It was unpleasant. It distracted from the pleasure of Briar’s cock. So he let go. He stopped thinking. He immersed himself in the sensation of his body spreading for Briar’s fat hog and reveled in how good it felt to be used for his purpose in life.

As he bounced up and down on Briar’s dick, more and more pre-cum flooded into his guts. Most of it stayed inside him but some flowed back out. With every down stroke, hot, slick pre-cum burbled past his pussy lips and splattered all over the other fuckmeat’s face.

Clay didn’t understand why the other fuckmeat was so angry. They were both serving Briar so there was no reason to be mad. Though then again, he supposed he was hogging Briar’s cock and the other fuckmeat could be jealous.

He smirked down at the other fuckmeat. He wasn’t going to give up his position any time soon. The other fuckmeat would just have to make do with the pre-cum that was squirting out of him.

Clay took a trembling breath, his cock throbbing as he watched the fight slowly leave the other fuckmeat’s eyes. He grinned for a moment and then panted openly, moaning loudly to make sure the other fuckmeat understood how good it was to be riding Briar’s cock.

Slowly, the other fuckmeat’s eyes went glassy. His angry noises of protest were replaced with the quiet sounds of slurping.

Briar laughed, the deep rumble of his voice sending shivers through Clay’s body. "That’s it, fuckmeat," he said as he bucked his hips. "Give in to your nature."

The other fuckmeat stopped being so passive with its ass-slurping. It hooked both arms under and over Briar’s thighs and pulled itself deeper, burrowing its face into the demon’s musky crack.

The slurping sounds got louder and sloppier, accompanied by muffled moaning and whining. The other fuckmeat ground its hips against the bed, humping the sheets so it could rub its pathetic fuckmeat cock against the bed.

Clay grinned. He had no doubt the other fuckmeat was rock hard and horny under those stupid clothes. He had to be. Because he was being given the pleasure of serving Briar’s asshole. It only made sense.

For reasons he didn’t really understand, Clay felt a pang of sadness in his chest as he watched the other fuckmeat really get into eating Briar out. There was nothing to be sad about. The other fuckmeat should be grateful it was even being allowed to touch Briar with its dirty mouth.

Even so, something inside Clay broke. It shattered into a million pieces. He felt oddly forlorn. As if he’d lost something that was supposed to be important to him.

And then he felt Briar’s fingers close around his hips and a sense of profound joy surged through him. "I have to hand it to you, fuckmeat… I didn’t think you’d get a second toy to land in my lap today," said Briar.

Clay flushed at the praise. "T-thank you, Master…" he breathed. It was the first time he’d ever used the word and yet somehow it felt right.

"Mm. Even if it’s something a lowly piece of fuckmeat like you did, it’s still worth rewarding," said Briar.

"T-thank you, Master!" Clay cried out, bouncing his ass on Briar’s cock frantically until Briar’s hands put a stop to it.

"You should be happy, fuckmeat," said Briar. "Once this is over you’ll belong to me forever. And you’ll never have to worry about some pest pulling you back into that silly delusion that you’re anything more than a bottom-feeder cock sleeve for the rest of eternity."

With enough force that the entire bedframe shook and cracked, Briar slammed Clay down on his cock and came.

The force of Briar’s orgasm was incredible. It was as if the molten hot ropes of cum were tearing through Clay’s guts. Each shot visibly distended his stomach, creating a lump that went away as the force subsided only to be replaced by another.

The sheer volume had Clay filled to bursting within seconds. He was so swollen he couldn’t see past his bloated belly. And yet it kept coming.

Briar’s cum was so hot it felt like lava inside of Clay. He could feel his organs boiling, his body roasting from the inside. And yet the pleasure was unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

He flailed Briar’s orgasm continued. He faintly heard choking, sputtering sounds coming from under him, from the other fuckmeat, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Cum bubbled up out of his throat, a trickle at first and then a flood. It shot out of his nose and trickled from the corners of his eyes, his lungs filling with the stuff.

He felt like he was breathing liquid fire. He gurgled and sputtered, thrashing on top of Briar but unable to shake himself free of the demon’s vicelike grip.

Deep down, he felt that this was it. This was the end of his story. A piece of fuckmeat drowned in a torrent of cum.

It should have been terrifying but it wasn’t. He’d never been so turned on in his life.

As the darkness closed in on his vision, he felt his balls draw up against his body. His legs tensed. His toes curled. He arched his back as far as he could, his belly wobbling.

And then he came. He came harder than he had ever come in his life. The first shot hit the ceiling and just like that, the world went black.

---

Clay woke up sprawled on a black marble floor. The air smelled strongly of smoke, brimstone, and sex.

His stomach was as swollen as it was when he lost consciousness and it wobbled as he shifted positions. He had to cradle it as he rolled over onto his hands and knees, his head swimming in a thick haze of arousal.

He hadn’t thought he’d ever wake up again after how full Briar had fucked him but here he was. He just didn’t know where here was, exactly.

Oddly enough, despite the ominous architecture of the place, the marble crisscrossed by glowing veins of what looked to be lava, it felt like home. Well, maybe not exactly home. Fuckmeat didn’t have homes. But it was where he belonged, at least.

Following the sound of soft slurping, Clay saw Briar at the end of the room. The demon was reclining on a high-backed throne with a wicked smile on his lips.

His bat-like wings were folded behind him, one arm draped over the throne’s armrest. The other was propped against the armrest so he could lean his head against his knuckles.

His legs were spread and the other fuckmeat from before was there between them. It was suckling on his cock, stomach swollen with seed as even more dripped from the corners of its mouth.

Briar had his tail wrapped tightly around the fuckmeat’s neck. He squeezed, eliciting a wet choking sound before the fuckmeat started skullfucking itself on his cock.

Clay grinned. The other fuckmeat was better trained than last he remembered. It was a pleasure to see. It reminded him of how Briar had broken him down and subjugated him.

A thrill wound through Clay’s body as he continued to watch the scene. He was compelled to approach and join in on the fun. After all, Briar’s balls looked awfully lonely without a fuckmeat to gargle them.

He crawled over, his swollen belly brushing against the hot stone floor. As he did, he felt a faint sense of recognition. The other fuckmeat was familiar but he couldn’t exactly place why.

Tom.

The name came to him unbidden. He must have known the other fuckmeat at some point. It might even have been important to him in some past life.

Clay didn’t know. And quite frankly, he didn’t care. He was fuckmeat now. He had always been fuckmeat. He just wouldn’t have known it if not for Briar.

Fuckmeat’s mouth ran dry as it listened to the gurgling sound the other fuckmeat made as it gobbled Briar’s cock like the pathetic cum sock it was. In a way, fuckmeat was jealous. It wanted to guzzle Briar’s cock, too.

"Come here, hole," said Briar, crooking a finger toward Fuckmeat.

Fuckmeat could scarcely disobey the orders of its superior so it did as it was told. Its worthless cocklet twitched with the pleasure of being obedient and its pussy ached with the emptiness that accompanied not being filled with its master’s cock.

Briar shifted his legs further apart and Fuckmeat took its place between them. "I’m glad you’ve finally accepted your rightful place in the world," he said.

"Fuckmeat belongs where Master says it belongs," said Fuckmeat.

"That’s right," said Briar. He laughed thunderously, the walls seeming to shake with the sound of his mirth. "Well go on, then, fuckmeat. Start gargling my balls."

Briar smirked. "Don’t worry about being perfect. This is just one of the many depraved things you’ll learn to do for me. And you’ll have the rest of eternity to learn to do it well."