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Eighth Circle	By : Rodders Category: +A through F > Devil May Cry Views: 8022 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry or any of these characters, and make no money from this work.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
It felt like being kicked in the teeth, but as with everything Nevan did, there seemed to be a sexual element to it.
"Now, can I count on your…co-operation?" Nevan asked, still towering above her. It was embarrassing to admit to herself, but Lady had begun to feel neglected by Nevan’s coldness. If Nevan was going to force herself upon her, giving her a kiss would be the least she could do.
"Gfmph," Lady replied.
"I’ll take it," said Nevan, and withdrew her foot from Lady’s mouth. Like her lips, Nevan’s skin had a peculiar taste to it. It was like rotting apples stewing in wine; very sweet, but there was an offness to it, something sinister. Still, there were worse tastes, and Lady supposed she would have to learn to like it, at least until she could formulate some kind of escape plan.
"Stand up," Nevan commanded, and Lady obeyed. "Now, just relax. I promise you’ll enjoy this." Lady sincerely doubted that, but she could see no cause for resistance. Yet. She took a single, deep breath and tried her best to loosen up her muscles. Lady could not lie to herself; she was frightened. But she had braved every storm that life had yet thrown at her, and she had no reason to believe that this would be any more painful than watching her mother die or shooting her father in the head.
The shadows that made up Nevan’s dress began to shift and swirl. Black tendrils reached out and sunk in and reached out again before taking solid shape and positioning themselves around her. There were five in total, each ribbed and veiny and looking very…phallic? Lady gulped. She had an idea of where this was going, but she tried to push it from her mind, hoping desperately that maybe, if she didn’t think about it, it wouldn’t happen.
Such a hope proved futile. One of the tendrils extended towards her, and wrapped itself around her leg, travelling slowly jpward. It did not feel at all like she had expected, whatever that might have been; it was hard but slimy, like wet wood. The feel of it on her skin made her shiver, but she dared not resist. She doubted that Nevan would have any qualms about murdering her and using her body however she wanted.
The tendril had arrived at her upper thigh, and began to stroke itself against her crotch. She recoiled, though only for a moment. It did not escape Nevan’s notice. The tentacle umwound itself, reared up, and struck her. It was a strange sensation, like a hundred dull knives rubbing against her flesh. She barely felt anything, and yet, when she looked down, her clothes had been rent. Her boots remained intact, but her shorts, if they could still be called shorts, had been reduced to little more than a scrap of green cloth around her waist, and her shirt hung about her in tatters.
"I’ll dispense with the pleasantries," said Nevan. "And control yourself, or you’ll feel a sharper bite." Just as Lady began to wonder what exactly that meant, she felt a jolt of pleasure, and a warmth in her groin. She knew then that the tendril was inside of her. She could feel its ribbed head pushing past her lips and grinding up and down against her walls. She let out a single gasp, which turned to a moan, which turned to moaning. It started to pump in and out of her, faster and faster, twisting and turning and twitching. She wanted it, now. It was an exquisite feeling. She wasn't being fucked, that was an insult to the act. She was being impaled on the biggest member she had ever seen in her life.
And she loved it.
To compliment the thrusts, Lady began to rock her body up and down, her breasts heaving. It didn't do much, the phallic tendril was long and thick enough so that whatever entered her with the initial thrust was as much as was ever going to fit. But lust had overcome her; she would have went to Hell and back just to feel that extra inch or two for a few seconds more. She reached a hand down to her clit, and started to rub as fast as her fingers would allow her. Her nerves were on fire, screaming out for release. She could feel beads of sweat beginning to take form in all the usual places, and her insides began to boil. With every incursion her lover's cock made into her wet, fleshy crevice, she became hotter and hotter. Eventually, she felt that old familiar feeling building up in her crotch, and she knew she was ready to come.
Oh, but not yet. She wanted to hold onto the feeling for a little while longer. As the heat grew, she began to smile and curl her toes, still bouncing up and down on the gigantic rod. She would challenge herself, she decided, see how long she could hold on before-
Before she could finish her thought, Lady came, screaming. Her voice tore her throat raw as the walls of her cunt clamped down hard on the member still inside her. Her eyes rolled back, and she began to twitch. Her mouth made noise, but could form no words. She moved her feet to steady herself, but found no ground to stand on, and before she knew it, she was falling. A meter? Two? Five? It was hard to tell, but the ground grew ever closer.
Probably for the best, she thought. I could use a rest.
- 6
- 7
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Eighth Circle