HORNS AND GLAMOUR

Feature Writer: BreedOrBeBred

Feature Title: Horns and Glamour

Published: 03.05.2022

Story Codes: Erotic Horror

Synopsis: A demon-blooded lady gives it up hard

Horns and Glamour

The beat was smooth and heady. I let it flow around me, through me, and out of me. I stepped and spun and swept low before coming up again and slapping the taut skin of my tambourine. The thump of the impact and jingle of the small metal plates fit perfectly into the medley coming from behind me.

Thall plucked a staccato of full-throated notes from his citar that wove delicately through the high notes of Renée’s flute as they hung in the air.

We three made music, made beauty, and everyone sat in stunned silence. I swept my hands as I spun again, tapping the beat as I moved. The gold chains and small jewels hanging from my horns and wrists and tail would catch the light with each movement, and I knew that I looked like a glittering goddess to these people. That or a terrifying demon. In this low light my dark red hair would look almost black, and it flared out behind me as my body twisted with the song.

At this moment, I lived up to my name: Cadence. A measured beat of movement, or the flow of poetry.

The music reached a high crescendo, not fast but certainly tense and eager, until it finally came down and slid away. I stopped moving finally, head bowed, as the last few notes faded out.

There was scattered applause from the two-dozen or so patrons in the Scarred Dog. Having played for high priests and dukes, the small inn and pub was hardly what I would consider a glamorous set. Still, a girl’s gotta eat, and sometimes that means playing a few nights in shitty little towns while moving between real gigs.

Renée got up from her stool to make the rounds, accepting what few tips this town could squeeze out for us while Thall settled in to play something a little more relaxed.

I set my tambourine on my stool on the small stage, and sashayed towards the bar. I knew without looking that all eyes would be following my every move. My red skin made me stand out in even the most cosmopolitan towns, and the smattering of jewellry on my fingers, neck, tail and horns only helped to increase the glamour. The piercings in my long ears, in my nose, and on the diamond-shaped tip of my tail made me seem even more exotic, and maybe a little dangerous. My appearance was carefully cultivated to draw attention, interest, lust, and even a little thrill of the unknown. It was wasted on these small towns we were stuck riding through.

I slid into a chair in a far corner of the main room. It was a perfect spot, just a bit out of the way but nestled between two lamps so I was in enough light for people to get a good look at me. And look they did.

The proprietor sauntered up, a big grin on his face. Thall, Renée, and I were staying here on what I’ve come to understand as the standard arrangement: we play every night, and in return our food, drink, and beds are on the house. The owner gets a nice little bump in traffic when everyone comes to see the performers, and we get paid in tips. It was a much better deal for him than for us, but the alternative was trying to convince someone to pay us to play, and then getting ripped off and overcharged by innkeepers who were not-so-keen on having “demon-touched” stinking up their little lobbies. At least this way we wouldn’t be losing money.

“A fellow over there bought you a drink,” the man said, beaming as he proffered a cup of wine. “And one over there, too.”

“How many is that tonight, now?” I asked, accepting the smooth metal cup.

“Ah, that’s five cups of wine, two beers, and a shot of the good stuff.”

This was the part of the arrangement many people didn’t realise: when someone asks the bartender to send a drink my way, most of the time I just take a cup of water, if anything. If a dozen guys slide a coin to their waiter to get me something nice and I only drink one or two of those drinks, the owners split the money with us at the end of the night.

Every night a handful of guys and even a woman or two will “buy me a drink”, and maybe one or two will do the same for Renée. At the end of the night when the innkeeper splits the money with us, it’s usually worth as much as the tips we earned that night. The patrons think they’re wooing me, the owner gets paid to serve a drink he never pours, and I get some free coin at the end of the night. Win-win-win.

“Who is this drink from?” I asked, waving the cup of wine for emphasis before taking a delicate sip. The owner pointed a thumb over his shoulder at a couple of guys sitting at a table across the room, and I gave them a little nod and a wink. “Any for Renée tonight?”

“Just one, miss, but she drank it.”

That figured. Renée was beautiful and all, every inch the willowy, lean, fair-skinned elf one might hope for. But she was quiet, shy, and usually perfectly happy standing behind me and letting me have all the attention. That arrangement worked well for the both of us.

No one ever buys Thall a drink, but I doubt he minded very much. Like the music he was playing now, Thall was good at staying in the background and being overlooked.

The old man hustled off to serve another table, leaving me to my drink and my thoughts. People had bought us eight drinks, minus the one in my hand. I’d have to keep that number in mind, lest the guy try and rip us off at the end of the night when it comes to splitting the profit. Lots of guys got distracted by all the glittering gems on my skin and the low cut on the front of my dress, and assumed I wasn’t clever enough to keep count. That, or they just figured I’d hesitate to call them out on their bullshit for fear of getting run out of town. Again. So I had learned to keep a close eye on anyone who could rip us off.

One of the serving ladies buzzed around the room like a bee in an orchard, stopping briefly in front of me to lay down a plate I hadn’t asked for. I’d already eaten supper, but the delicately sliced fruits were appetizing enough that I picked at them anyway.

I was just lifting a berry to my mouth when a man sidled up to the table and sat himself beside me. He was half a head taller than me, broad both in shoulders and gut, the way that someone looks after years of real, honest work – the kind of work I did my best to avoid, whenever possible.

“Can I help you, hon?” I asked, then bit slowly into the fruit. His eyes were locked on the little berry as my teeth pierced its skin, a drop of dark juice sliding down my lip.

“Wasn’t sure what kind of food you ate,” he commented, chatting familiarly as if we’d known each other for ages. “Fruit seemed like a safe bet. Even a demon-blooded lady’s gotta have a sweet tooth.”

I paused, my fingers fork poised over a segment of orange, and raised an eyebrow. I was sure he wasn’t here to discuss the eating habits of the fiend-touched, even if it was a question that had been posed to me many, many times over. The truth was that most people were right in their assumptions that we can eat many things that a human would never consider to be food, and we can draw nutrients from almost anything. Memories of a childhood spent scavenging for scraps with my brother, eating handfuls of dust and charcoal still warm from the fire, flashed through my mind.

I lifted the small piece of orange up to my lips without breaking eye contact, biting into it just as slowly as I had the berry. It was tart, out of season, but sweet compared to the phantom taste of ash in my mouth.

“It seemed a shame to leave you all by your lonesome over here,” he went on. Here was a guy who liked the sound of his own voice.

His eyes lingered on the fruit in my hand, the juice on my lips, then swept up to my eyes. Most people had a hard time looking me directly in the eyes, the combination of gold colour and horizontally-slit eyes tended to make humans pretty uncomfortable. But he held my gaze with such causal confidence that I felt my tail start swaying slightly of its own accord.

“Did you send the wine over as well?” I asked, waving a hand at the tankard of overly-sweet alcohol.

“Nah, that was from some chump over there. The kind who thinks he can buy a lady for the cost of a cheap drink.”

“Right,” I answered, a sarcastic smile tugging at the sides of my lips. “As opposed to trying to buy a lady for the cost of a few pieces of fruit?”

He chuckled, and nodded as if to concede a point. “The fruit isn’t about buying. You were up there, dancing, swaying, and I thought you might need a pick-me-up. Wouldn’t want you running out of stamina.”

I raised my eyebrow even higher. This was one impertinent guy. “And what do you think I need to save my stamina for?”

“Simple. You’re going to finish that drink, then we’re going to walk up to your room and fuck like there’s no tomorrow.”

I laughed then, and he laughed with me like we were sharing a joke. “Why would I want to do that?”

“Because you’ve been travelling with those two for a long time,” he turned and gave a nod towards my two cohorts, “and I’m pretty sure neither of them is giving you what you need. And I know the limp-dick old men and young blowhards who buy you drinks aren’t up to the task either.”

As he spoke, he laid his hand down on my knee, then idly traced the back of a fingernail up the exposed flesh… and with the high slit on my dress, there was a lot of exposed flesh.

“The way you move,” he continued, his voice dropping to barely more than a whisper, “you’re full of need. Passion. Like there’s a fire in you begging to come out. Begging to be fed.”

I felt my heart start beating faster. I wanted to tell this guy to fuck off, but it had been a bit too long since I’d let a guy get this far. And he was right about the need, the passion.

“What’s your name?” he asked, his hand slowly sliding up the outside of my thigh, towards my hip. I felt my blood heat in response.

“Cadence.”

“Drink your drink, Cadence,” he told me, and I did. I tipped it back in one pull, then set the empty mug down. “Why don’t you lead me to your room?”

I stood smoothly, even though my legs felt like they should be shaking. I walked without hurry even as my pounding heart commanded me to move faster, faster. I passed Thall on my way to the stairs and we exchanged a look, a nod. He wasn’t surprised, but then he’d been with me long enough to get used to this.

Every so often, once every few cities, I would grab a random guy or let some random fellow charm me, and repeat the same pattern. Hot sex, panting, moaning, then leaving town. I wasn’t the type to stick around, but I still had needs. And tonight my needs would be met by…

“You never told me your name,” I whispered as we reached one of the doors upstairs.

“Does it make a difference?”

I thought about it for a moment, then shook my head. Anonymous was fine with me. It’s not like Cadence was my real name anyway, so I supposed we were on even footing.

I pushed the door open with a foot, and stepped backwards into the room while holding the guy’s gaze. He was so intense it made me want to shudder. There was a small part of me that asked why I was doing this again, climbing on some stranger instead of trying to find real, true love. But I had learned to silence her long ago.

He kicked the door closed and swept forward, one hand moving behind my head and the other around my shoulders as we kissed. My hands were on his sides, gripping the thick fabric of his shirt. I pulled at it, lifting it up, and he let go of me long enough to shuck the shirt off and throw it over his shoulder. Then his lips were on mine again, his breath hot in my mouth as he walked forward, moving us step-by-step until my legs bumped into the small table in the corner of the room.

“You taste like cinnamon,” he breathed, then moved his mouth from mine and onto my neck. I dragged my nails lightly down his back as his lips moved along my jaw and throat.

Both of his hands moved up to the shoulders of my dress, pulling them over my own shoulders and pulling so the dress slid and bunched around my waist, baring my breasts to the air. For all of his bluster, he was taken by surprise for a moment as he looked down at my naked chest.

Maybe he had expected me to be wearing some kind of bra under the dress, even though there was no way I could have done so without it showing. Maybe he was stunned by the plum-dark colouring of my nipples against my bright red skin. Or maybe he was just surprised to see the shining gold hoop hanging from each nipple.

“Gods above,” he whispered, then his lips were on mine again as one hand settled on my hip and the other on one of my breasts.

His palms were calloused and rough against the sensitive skin of my breasts. He squeezed, not hard enough to be painful but certainly not gently, and I felt that heat spread further in me. I wanted rough, dirty, passionate. My tail swished faster, the tip cutting through the air like a knife and thumping against the leg of the table pressing into the back of my thighs.

I slid my hands down the front of his chest, muscled and hairy, down to the front of his pants. I traced the line of his growing erection through the thick fabric and he grunted in appreciation. With deft fingers I undid the laces at the front of the pants, then pulled back to make direct eye contact with him as I sunk down to my knees in front of him. His gaze was still intense, still direct, boring into my eyes as I hooked my fingers in the band of his pants and pulled everything down.

His cock sprang out, swaying inches from my face. It was still only half hard, but I planned on fixing that.

I held his eyes as I took hold of his member, and I felt it twitch in my hand as blood rushed to fill it. It grew stiffer as I slowly fondled it and he grunted again. Then I leaned forward until my plum-colored lips rested against the pink-red tip.

I turned my attention fully to the… task at hand, and placed a gentle kiss on the tip of him. I glazed up again and saw impatience and need on his face, and couldn’t help but grin. I wasn’t planning on keeping him waiting, I just wanted to reassert who was in control here.

Opening my mouth just a little I leaned forward, and the tip of him pushed past my lips and onto my tongue. The flavour of too-much salt hit me immediately, but I didn’t have time to complain.

His hands settled on the sides of my head, grabbing both of the horns that come up and out from my temples before curling into a loop. They did make a convenient handhold. He pulled forward on my horns, jerking my head towards his crotch and forcing his cock deeper into my mouth.

I could have said I didn’t like him grabbing me by the horns. I could have said I didn’t like him pushing his cock into my mouth. I could have said I didn’t like being treated like an object.

But that would have been a lie.

I moaned reflexively at the rough treatment, the sound muffled by the member in my mouth. Then I relaxed my throat and pushed forward, needing no more encouragement. He groaned, probably enjoying the vibrations against his cock, not to mention the feeling of his cock sliding into the back of my throat. This was not the first cock I’d sucked, nor the second, nor even the tenth. I knew what I was about.

I set about bobbing my head, sliding his cock deep into my throat. I looked up into his eyes and saw him grinning.

That was all the warning I had before he pulled vigorously on my horns, pulling my face flush against his pubes. His cock was suddenly lodged in my throat, and I couldn’t breathe around it. I held on a moment, then two, before I felt my eyes start watering as my lungs begged for air. I dimly heard myself making choking noises, mostly muffled by his cock.

Then he pulled my head back all at once, and I took a deep breath. A long string of saliva connected my lips to his cock for a moment longer before I wiped my mouth off. I kneeled there panting for a second longer. My breath came fast and my heart was pumping even faster than that, but it wasn’t just from the lack of air. Heat burned my lungs, but also spread in a slick line down from my core.

He grinned down at me, and I knew he could see how turned on I was. “You’re fucking hot. You love that, don’t you?”

I didn’t answer – I didn’t need to. He grabbed one of my hands and pulled, standing me up in front of him. Then he grabbed the sides of my dress and yanked down, the silky fabric sliding easily over the swell of my hips and pooling on the ground. I kicked the expensive dress aside like it was cheap burlap, and was left wearing nothing but lacy black panties. Why had I chosen something so sexy? Maybe I really had been planning on letting someone talk their way up here tonight.

He stepped forward, pressing his lips into mine and pushing me back until the edge of the table dug into the back of my thigh. One of his hands moved down, pressing between my legs. His finger snaked along the fabric, moving lower to trace the outline of my lips through the thin fabric.

“Mm,” I moaned into his mouth as he pushed the fabric aside and pressed his fingers against me more forcefully.

The guy whose name I still didn’t know moved his fingers insistently, pressing one against my entrance and meeting little resistance. He slid a finger into me and I moaned again. He paused for a second, as if unsure.

“Fuck, you’re really fucking hot,” he grunted, and I knew he didn’t just mean sexy. My body was burning with lust, and for a demonspawn like me the word burning is a bit more literal. It always took guys aback for a moment when they first felt how hot my skin burned when I was turned on. Or angry. Or scared. It wasn’t enough to actually burn someone, but I run way hotter than a human.

But he was not to be deterred. He pulled his finger back, then pushed his first two fingers into me as he kissed me again. I made another noise of appreciation as he mashed his lips against mine and pushed his fingers into me. He slid them in and out a few times, slicking himself with my juices.

He was not gentle, but that was good because I didn’t want him to be.

I pushed his pants the rest of the way down so they dropped about his ankles, then seized his cock. It was still wet from my mouth, and I started tugging insistently on it as he curled his fingers inside of me. The motion dragged their tips along a sensitive spot inside of me, and made my knees feel watery.

He suddenly jerked his hand off of me. Before I could even blink, both of his hands were on my hips, pulling and turning. I knew exactly what he wanted, because it was what I needed right then.

I let him turn me around and bent over, bracing my hands on the table.

One of his hands stayed on my ass and pulled my panties off to the side, exposing my pussy to him. He took himself eagerly in hand with the other. When I lifted my tail into the air to give him access to me, he shuffled forward slightly, pants still around his ankles, and pressed the tip of his cock against my pelvis.

He slid it down enough to brush against my clit, then back up along my lip. He overshot and dragged the tip high enough to brush against my asshole. We had no extra lube, but I was so damn horny that if he had started pushing into my ass I probably would’ve let him. But then he moved his cock again, dragging it down until it lined up with my wet entrance.

He pushed forward, and I felt my lips eagerly spread around the tip of his cock. I was wet and ready, and he’d already had his fingers there. He stopped for a second with just the tip inside, maybe adjusting to the unexpected heat.

Then he thrust hard, shoving himself into me. I winced and hissed slightly at the sudden sting as my body adjusted to having his whole cock shoved inside of me. He paused again for another breath or two, which was almost enough time for me to get used to the sudden discomfort. But then he was moving again, pulling back about halfway before slamming forward again.

I couldn’t help but cry out in both discomfort and pleasure as his cock drove into me a second time. I wondered if someone else would hear us, but just didn’t care.

“You’re so fucking dirty,” he whispered. “Fuck, you love this so much.”

Both of his hands were on my hips now, holding tightly as he drove himself forward again, pushing as far into me as he could get. He started working towards a rhythm, pumping his hips fast and hard. There was no warmup, no mercy. Just hard fucking.

The slapping sounds of our bodies echoed around the room, and I bit my lip to keep from wailing. The bangles on my wrists and tail jingled as my body shook while we made music together.

One of his hands left my waist, and I fully expected to feel it come around to cup my tit. There’s nothing guys love more than holding a tit while they fuck you. I might have even hoped to feel his fingers on me again, flicking my clit to help me along. Instead, he grasped the base of my tail and pulled.

I’d had a lot of guys pull my hair during sex. A lot. I’ve even had a few pull my horns. But my tail? That was new.

It stung slightly as he used my sensitive tail to pull my body back against him again and again, but it only added to the eddies of stimulation flowing around me. I instinctively flexed my tail, wrapping it around his wrist and forearm and holding him as much as he was holding me.

“You like that, don’t you?” he asked, and started pumping his hips even harder.

“Gods yes,” I told him. I took a hand off of the table and dropped it between my own legs, settling onto my sensitive nub. I was so turned on that my lubrication was practically oozing out of me, more than enough to wet my fingers when I started fingering my clit.

His fingers dug into my hip and he squeezed my tail tighter as he kept thrusting. Each movement pushed his cock against that sensitive spot in my inner wall, driving me deeper into pleasure. His hips were pumping like a piston, but his tempo matched mine. I may look like I’m from hell, but at that moment I was fully in Nirvana.

My orgam hit me fast and hard, sweeping up and over me. I cried out loudly as I came, my whole body locking up as all my muscles flexed at once. This time I was sure everyone in the neighbouring rooms heard me, but fuck them.

Pleasure arced up my spine like a bolt of lightning, searing my nerves as my body shook from the force of it. I could feel my hands gripping the table harder, my long nails tearing gouges into the cheap wood. I shuddered and writhed as the jolts of pleasure travelled all along my body, spurred on by his steady, insistent thrusting.

I came down from the height of bliss, and my whole body started trembling. My legs were shaky, and I doubted they would hold me up for much longer. I looked over my shoulder at him, and something of that fatigue must have showed on my face because he gave me a nod, then pulled out of me so suddenly I gasped. I gasped again when he suddenly grabbed me by the hips and lifted me.

There was a reason why I was so fond of the strong bodies that come with a life of labour. That and the stamina, of course.

He spun me and dropped me onto the squat dresser, facing him. It was at just the right height to put my pelvis on level with his, and no words needed to be exchanged to plan the next move. I spread my legs as he stepped forward, and he yanked my panties off and threw them across the room. Then he lined his cock up with my body and slid easily into me again.

My legs curled around his hips as he pulled me closer to the edge of the wooden surface. Then he picked up where we left off, thrusting into me with deep, confident strokes. I groaned in pleasure at the feeling of his thick cock sliding up into me. This new angle stimulated me in different ways, and it gave him free access to my chest.

He wasted no time taking advantage of that. One of his arms was wrapped around my back, cupping my ass, and the other was on my breast, squeezing and kneading the flesh there. His lips found mine again, silencing the moan that had started building up in my throat.

The whole dresser rocked with each conjoined motion of our hips. It thumped loudly against the wall each time he thrust forward, adding a dull drumbeat to our fucking.

Because that’s all this was – fucking. It’s true that he was holding me, and that we were kissing, and that both my legs and my tail were wrapped eagerly around him. But there was no real intimacy, just passion. That’s all I wanted tonight. That’s all I ever wanted.

His hips pumped beneath and between my thighs, making his cock slide in and out of me with ruthless efficiency. There was a wet noise as our bodies slid together, and it added to the bass line made up of the wooden furniture rocking and hitting the wall. Our panting breath joined the tempo, punctuated by the metallic noise of my bangles, which jingled each time my tail swished through the air. High pitched noises escaped my throat, noises of need and desperation, which wove into the medley. This was our Cadence, our song, built by our combined need.

He picked up his pace, a fleshy slapping sound joining the thudding of furniture. I threw back my head and moaned loudly, like adding a singing chorus to our song. Pleasure radiated up my body and down my limbs, a dull heat of bliss. I wasn’t orgasming again, not really, but the wave of pleasure tingled and kept me floating high.

Maybe he was spurred on by my moan of pure pleasure, because his thrusts were getting faster now.

Maybe he was lost in the feeling of my body clenching down on him again, because he was groaning now.

Maybe he was getting off on watching my bliss spread across my face, because his fingers were digging into my flesh now.

His lips found my neck, my throat, and bared down on me. They clamped down on the flesh, kissing and sucking on my skin as he drove his cock deep into me again. I felt a pulsation deep inside of me as the whole length of his cock throbbed and convulsed. He pulled back and slammed his member into me, eliciting another moan from me. His cock twitched again as he pressed himself as deep into me as he could go.

A feral noise rumbled in his throat and against my neck as he kept his mouth clamped on me. His whole body twitched and flexed as he pushed his hips as hard against me as he could, his cock throbbing again.

Then I felt it, the sweet heat of his release. His pleasure made his whole body flex again, and that pleasure rushed up and out of him as his cock throbbed, inundating me with a wave of cum. He kept himself buried in me, his hips still twitching as he rocked our bodies, and another jet of seed shot up into me, so forceful that I swear I could feel it splash against my inner seal.

I moaned loudly, high-pitched and desperate, as I felt our combined pleasure. I could feel his back twitching under my hands, under my nails as I dragged them down his flesh.

He pressed forward with his hips, as if he could somehow go even deeper, and shook as he emptied himself into me.

We groaned in unison as he twitched one last time, releasing maybe one more drop. Then he was finished, and we stared into each other’s eyes and panted. I could still feel small aftershocks of pleasure trickling down my body, just the same as I could feel his seed trickling out of my body.

I wasn’t worried about any long-term effects of him finishing inside of me. Less than half of demon-touched were actually fertile, and I’d given up on any chance of having a kid many years ago.

For right now, all that mattered was this. This pleasure. This closeness.

But the moment was short. He eased himself back slowly, until his softening member flopped out of me. I looked down to watch the creamy white fluid dribble down my thigh like a line of pearls, and by the time I looked up he had already pulled his pants back up and started lacing them.

I said nothing as he finished doing up his pants, then fished his shirt off the floor and pulled it over his broad chest. He adjusted himself one final time, then gave me a nod. “Thanks,” he said, then stepped out the door and softly closed it behind him.

I shook my head and stood up a little woozily, stopping to check myself in the hand mirror. I was flushed and sweaty, the skin of my face and neck an even darker red than normal. Most noticeable was the massive love bite left on the side of my neck from his mouth. I wondered for a moment whether I’d be able to cover it up with a scarf, then shrugged and flopped down onto my bed. That was tomorrow’s problem. Tonight my body was pleasantly sore, and I just wanted to sleep.

The bed was small and cold, and I idly wished he’d at least stuck around to hold me long enough for the bed to warm up.

As I lay there, I found myself thinking of my family of all things. My mother, a fiend-touched beauty who had raised two children by herself before getting stabbed in a back alley somewhere. My brother, Ralech, probably still traveling the world.

I wondered where he was now, but had a hard time really caring. It had been a long, long time since we’d been close.

I had Renée and I had Thall. Two good friends, and of course the occasional sloppy fuck. Life was good. What more could a girl ask for?

THE END

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