I opened my eyes to the red haze as my desire and my lust hit its peak.
In my crimson vision, I watched Violet before me, staring up over her shoulder at me with those inviting blue eyes, hair splayed about over her shoulders, down her back. Her rather large breasts bounced with every thrust I simulated into my hand. I imagined my knot disappearing in her as her pussy stretched to accommodate me, imagined myself growing like a flower in the dark as I bottomed out, locking us together.
I imagined my swollen knot hitting its peak within her, her insides pulsing around me as I...
I came too hard, too fast.
Hot, thick ropes of release coated my hand in a deluge of pent up desire, seeping through my fingers, down my shaft.
And it just kept coming.
“Oh fuck...” I groaned as I collapsed on the floor, on top of the magic, on top of nothing but my hand, my cock still pulsing, throbbing, spewing load after load until my vision went white. The fractals of magic disintegrated, taking my fantasy from me now that I’d spent myself, leaving me alone on the cold floor.
My fangs pushed forth as my body took over, my mind unable to comprehend the primitive, instinctual behavior ransacking me at the moment. I screwed my eyes shut, trying to ride the wave of the onslaught of the most intense orgasm I’d ever experienced. My hips thrust of their own volition, my cock sliding through my soaked, cum-filled hand, the cold floor against the tip of my weeping cock a startling reminder of the things I could never have.
I opened my eyes, catching my reflection in the mirror tucked in the corner between the chaise and the desk. All magical fantasies gone, all lustful energy subsiding, forcing me back into reality. The sight was a rush of fresh air as I stared at my reflection, my red eyes gazing back at me, standing out against the garish gray skin that had overtaken my fair human coloring, my big black wings curled around my back as my cock continued to throb and pulse with another load.
The sight of myself thrusting against my hand, against the floor, covered in my own release amidst a puddle of it on the floor, caused a fresh pang of shame and guilt to blossom, spreading like a poison as reality hit me.
No one would ever be able to take me likethis.
No one could ever love me like this.
Like the monster I truly am.
As I started to soften, I tugged my deflating cock if only to make sure I was finally spent. Remorse and guilt festered as I came to my knees, surveying the mess I’d made.
I don’t think I’ve ever come this much in my life.
It’s probably because it’s been so long. Incubi are not meant to be celibate creatures, after all.
I leaned back on my knees, finally letting go of myself, if only to magic up a cleaning spell.
I watched as the magic took hold, as the remains of myself dissolved into thin air with the fantasies I’d conjured, as a pair of white gloves casually wiped everything up with a crimson towel. But nothing could clean my heart, my stupid guilt for doing what I was made to do.
The remains that were left on me absorbed into my demon skin, feeding my lustful energy once more.
I felt stronger, better.
But I also knew this couldn’t last. It couldn’t happen again.
So I vowed to myself as I sat naked on the floor, full in so many ways, that I would stay as far away from Violet as possible.
CHAPTER6
Violet
The airaround Blackthorn is thick with regality, the once sparsely populated campus and halls now packed with students. Delaney had been right, there were certainly more first years than I thought there would be, and since their arrival last week, everything’s been nonstop.
It’s been a week full of orientations, mixers, and club sign ups. I barely had any time to explore the grounds, to really familiarize myself with everything. In between all the official events, Blackthorn had requested I meet with an advisor twice a week for the first semester.
Delaney said such things were normal for some first years who came to the academy without much exposure or knowledge to the world of magic. Her insinuation should have made me feel better—knowing that I wasn’t the only one—but instead it only irritated me more.
Though my advisor, Professor O’Connor, who I’d met briefly after receiving my class schedule, seemed nice enough, I was frustrated with all the pre-class stuff.
I wanted tolearn. I wanted answers, and I wanted to finally be able to understand my magic and how to control it.
My father always said patience was a virtue, but I’d never been good at waiting for things.
