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Look, when you went around looking for things to scavenge, you did not think you would do something as stupid as get stuck.
“Ink Demon?”
Okay? Really, it was supposed to be a simple run. Get stuff, avoid Lost Ones, get out. Unfortunately, supplies in your usual haunting grounds were sparse. Unsurprising considering your haunting grounds were also your partner’s haunting grounds by association. Other denizens tried to avoid him, but this was still very annoying. Leaving your comfort zone was actually a threat to your life.
“Bendyyyy?”
Then you happened across a little room like one of those secretaries sat in. It was closed off on all sides by a rectangle of desks with plexiglass barriers that reached the ceiling. Through dusty and grimy windows you could plainly see a host of Slugs and other useful odds and ends. Jackpot! But the door was not on your side of the larger room it was a part of and the door you didn’t come through was locked tight.
This left a small rectangular opening, the kind you would use to pass stuff to either side of the desk, as your one ticket in.
“ Dammit… ”
The window was collapsible with a shutter of wooden boards. With some wriggling, you managed to push it farther up before it got stuck fast. It would be a squeeze, but there were so many pretty shines on the other side, and your errand would be done that much faster. Risk versus reward, y’know?
Yeah, the risk you took was calculated but man…
“... help?”
You were bad at math.
You lay splayed on the partition, stuck at the waist and no amount of squirming was gonna get you out of the mess you got yourself in. The edge of the desk dug into the place right under your breasts and you had to grip it to keep it from digging into your diaphragm. Your legs dangled uselessly on the other side, you were barely able to reach the floor on your tip-toes.
The damn loot had the audacity to wink at you from the shelves on the other side of the room in the grungy light. You hung your head and whined at your poor luck.
Yelling wouldn’t be the best idea, because that could catch unwanted attention. The problem was that you also had wanted attention that was now needed attention. If you dicked around for too long the unwanted attention would end up catching you anyway.
The Ink Demon had a knack for knowing where to stumble across you even if you two were some distance away. It was the ink, and a good ol’ holler will let him know exactly where to find you. It was just… what if something else heard and he wasn’t fast enough? If a Lost One, or god forbid one of the Butcher Gang found you like this you were as good as dead.
Well, if that happened, you knew that if you were to die, your assailants would be as good as ink smears on the wall. At least there was that!
Okay, that didn’t inspire you as much as you thought it would, but what other choice did you realistically have?
You cursed between your teeth and braced yourself on the desk to allow your smooshed lungs to take in a deep breath.
“BENDYYYYYYYYYYYYY! INK DEMOOOOON! HELP MEEEE!”
Something not too far away crashed violently, followed by a muffled voice.
“Holy fucking shit - HURRY!”
Then, quiet.
From your vantage point, you could turn your head to the right and see the door you came through, but not much else. The silence was far from comforting. Your fingertips were going numb from how hard you were gripping the old wood and your heart was rabbitting in your chest. Sweat began to roll down your back as anxiety -
CLANG!
A strangled whimper escaped your throat and body began to tremble in terror. There was no way you could defend yourself against anything that came through that door. The best you could do was give them some good donkey-style back kicks, but that wouldn’t stop them for long.
A scream echoed far too close to be ignorable.
That had you moving. “Fuck!” You tried more of the wiggling and pulling and pushing and bucking but that wasn’t doing jack shit.
SLAM!
It sounded like something slammed open somewhere just beyond the door.
clop…
Another shriek and a wet, meaty rip.
Clop…
The room shuddered. You went still, breaths coming in silent, shaking gasps.
Clop… Clop…
The lights above you bounced and flickered. Dust fell from the ceiling as the room shook on its hinges. A wet, rasping gurgling growl grew steadily louder. You dared to hope.
Clop… CLOP… CLOP!
Then the door nearly collapsed in a heap of splinters. The Ink Demon shadowed the doorway, ink pouring down his face and dripping off his fingers onto the floor. The lights around him dimmed when he hissed throatily in fury.
“Bendy!” You heaved a sigh of relief. “I’m in here!”
Your handsome, inky savior full-on stopped his tirade just to stare at your sorry state. After a long moment, he asked, voice slightly muffled through the barrier, “How did this happen?”
Now that there was someone here to see your predicament… well, the embarrassment backhanded you across the face. You felt your cheeks burn under his eyeless gaze. You covered yourself with one hand and pointed at the treasure trove you tried and failed to loot with the other wordlessly.
The room shivered as he laughed his deep, rumbly chuckles and his cloven hooves stomped against the floorboards. The poor door was carefully shut, but just breathing on it wrong would probably have it collapsing to the ground. You had a feeling no one would dare try to enter anyway, if there was any evidence leftover from the saps who got in his way.
He elegantly shambled over to you until he was out of sight. You waited for his next move, only to startle when a large hand cupped your waist.
“Hey, whoa now. What are you doing back there?” You asked.
“Appreciating how tempting you look right now, my dear.”
You slapped the other hand over your face and tried not to die right there on the spot. “That’s - You don’t have to rub it in.”
His other hand joined the other side of your waist and gave you a gentle squeeze. “I am not. You think I would lie?”
Your answer was muffled by your palms.
To be fair, the implications were hot in a hysterical sort of way. If he was being serious. And the Ink Demon was about as serious as they came. It had been a very stressful day. So sorry that your default became horny and in love whenever your handsome devil was around.
Sike! No you’re not.
“Just how serious are you being right now?”
You could practically feel him eyeing you. “About?”
You groaned and threw your fists in the air. “About fucking me while I’m stuck here! That ‘about’!”
The heel of his giant palm came to gently rest where your spine met the stupid shutter door. “I always want you,” he said rather simply, “but your comfort is of more importance.”
You silently weighed your options. Realistically, when were you ever going to get a chance like this again? There was a choice of staging, but would you (or him, for that matter) really be willing to get yourself intentionally stuck like this again? Not anytime soon, you’d bet. It’s not like you had to be worried about being walked-in on; anyone would know what was up far before they would reach the door handle. Anyone who'd walk through that door was either a Hostile, a Pervert, or Real Fucking Stupid. In which case, they would deserve it at that point. The only thing it would ruin would be the mood and probably the walls.
While your brain was running itself stupid in a hamster wheel, your pussy was beginning to chime in with it’s thoughts on the matter. A heady warmth was sinking in your gut and your entrance fluttered on nothing but the memory of the Ink Demon’s cock.
Fuck it.
“Let’s do it.”
He went still as a statue, literally dripping with surprise. “Are you certain?” He asked after a pregnant pause.
You sent a misty, half-lidded look over your shoulder paired with the little pout you knew riled him up. “Please?”
A delighted purr vibrated through his palms. Your thighs squeezed together in anticipation.
“And if you want to stop?”
You bit your lip and thought. “Technicolor.”
“Technicolor,” he repeated with his teeth resting against your tailbone.
It sent a delicious shiver up your spine. You were already mentally high-fiving yourself for this awesome, rash decision.
The palms of his hands came to rest on the curve of your ass through your pants. There they stayed until a trickle of impatience and apprehension started to build in your stomach. Because he had perfect timing, you flinched when he gave your derriere an appreciative squeeze. You huffed at him.
His face nuzzled further up your back, then daintily bit your shirt to drag it up as far as it would go. Ink smeared all over your already stained shirt, then more landed on your skin when he pressed a toothy kiss to the small of your back.
Speaking of ink stains, two huge hand prints were being worked into the back pockets of your pants as he messaged large circles onto your ass cheeks. There was no way you were going to get those out. Maybe you’d hang them up on the wall as decoration to commemorate the event.
The mental image made you snort into your palm. This had the unintended consequence of annoying your “captor” for your lack of attention. The unintended reward was a hard slap to the buttocks.
A yelp of surprise echoed back to you in the plexiglass box. Despite holding back it still stung like a sonavabitch. Your underwear was getting soaked.
He was waiting silently for you to acknowledge the reprimand and you shot a kicked puppy pout at him over your shoulder. He had picked up his head to meet your gaze unflinchingly, back curved so that he loomed over you like the dark side of the crescent moon. A thick hum filled his throat and your veins.
The hand that had spanked you rose from your bottom and he traced idle patterns on your back with the very tip of his claws, leaving ink trails in their wake. It was a ghost of a touch, the sharp talons a whisper of danger that sent goosebumps down your neck. Then it hooked on the waistband of your pants.
Alarm replaced the anticipation in a snap.
“Don’t rip them! I still need to get back!”
He paused for a concerning moment, and just as you were thinking he was gonna do it anyway, he roughly pulled them down to your ankles.
His voice was a dark, threatening mutter that settled in your crotch. “If you think I would allow anything else to witness you as I do,” his claws wrapped around your thighs, “then you are gravely mistaken.”
A sigh stuttered from the very bottom of your lungs. It was followed by a soft curse when the back of his long finger pressed against the damp spot on your underwear until it was nestled against the crease of your lips. The two knuckles of his finger dragged up and down, a subtle, teasing pressure.
He sat back on his haunches to watch the damp spot become steadily darker with your own slick and ink. You struggled to steady yourself on your tip-toes while hindered by the pants pooled around your ankles. The Ink Demon watched your thighs begin to tremble with dark pride.
After he had his fill of watching you squirm, he smoothly hooked his long fingers through the waistband of your underwear and rolled them down at a snail's pace. Though you waited to feel the kiss of his hands, he carefully kept a steady distance between the two of you.
It felt like a lifetime before it joined your pants. Just as a polite request for him to hurry up was on the tip of your tongue, he grabbed the two pieces of clothing and yanked them off of you completely. Your toes curled against the floorboards.
Those two hungry hands curled around where your calves met your ankles. The Ink Demon guided your feet to sit on his skinny thighs, releasing you from the endeavor of keeping your balance on the floor. With his legs naturally bowed away from each other, this left your pussy blooming and exposed. The smooth weight of his hands glided up your legs, appreciating the valleys of skin laid bare to him. A musical chirr sang from him as his mark made its way up your thighs.
Warmth burned through the folds of your dripping cunt the closer his touch drew towards it. The muscles in your thighs jumped when he first nuzzled the soft meat, then a gasp jumped out of your mouth when it was followed by his thick, dexterous tongue. He tasted the sweat on your skin and breathed in the heady smell of your desire and moaned deeply.
The forked end flicked at the apex of your thigh, then again against the wet folds of your sex. It barely grazed your delicates but you still yelped. Partially because you knew being loud drove him insane in the best way and partially because you were too worked up for subtlety.
“Bendy, darling, please,” you breathlessly said, “I need you.”
“All in good time, pet,” he replied lowly. “You always have me.”
All the fireworks settling in your gut exploded within your heart in a blaze of honeyed lights. The lights became stars when he started lapping at your pussy like a starving man.
An “Oh!” was punched out your stomach as the slithering, gooey tongue slid from clit to hole. It parted your glistening petals with heavy meticulousness and then curled and flicked your bud with the forked tip. He moaned with deep satisfaction and it translated gorgeously through his tongue where it was pressed flush against your sex.
The Ink Demon pulled back slightly to spread your lips with the pads of his thumbs, carefully bending his claws away from you. His long tongue rolled from between his sharp teeth to caress your clit, then swirled through your labia until it was pressed against your entrance.
With a purr, he narrowed his tongue and began to patiently work you open. The tongue grew thicker as it undulated further and further inside you. These would be periodically broken up by a rewarding lick to your swollen clit before diving back to drink you in. Wet, slick sounds began to fill the room as he started to fuck you open.
Your head hung down between your shoulders as you gulped down air. You could feel the cool ink running down your legs and the hot pleasure filling you up like a well. His hard chin was now skin-to-skin with your pussy, rocking against your clit.
A curse slipped out with a moan as his tongue writhed against your walls. It would nearly retract completely back into his mouth before pulsing back in as far as it could go. For several moments he would take his time to bully your spongy g-spot. Either coiling over it again and again or tickling it with the forked end until it almost ached before pulling back and starting it all over again.
A mix of your juices and his inky drool began to drip down his chin and pool between his legs. His cock was peeking out from his crotch. A bead of black precome already began to leak from the tip. It dripped off the ridges of his shaft and joined the growing puddle on the floor.
You yearned to reach, grab his horns and pull him further against you, but there was nothing you could do on your side of the glass. He could do whatever he wanted to you and you couldn’t do a damn thing about it. No amount of kicking, screaming, cursing or begging would stop him. The previous nightmare of powerlessness was now a wet dream.
At the same time, you held all the cards. A single word out of your mouth and he would stop cold-turkey with no questions asked. You would be rescued and taken care of and loved. What a sensation; to be the weakest and most powerful being in this world. It made your marrow feel like warm syrup in your bones.
Just as you felt the pleasure come to a crest, he seemed to sense it and backed off with one last lick. The solar flare in your gut dimmed and you growled in frustration.
“Heyyyy. What gives?”
He laughed meanly and rose from his stoop, letting your feet fall off of him. You let yourself dangle there, legs feeling more like noodles.
He rucked your shirt back where it had fallen back down and licked your spine. “I am about to give you what you want,” he whispered, his teeth vibrating against your back.
With that, he stood up fully and grabbed you by your thighs. His bony hips pressed against your ass and his cock slid over your flushed pussy. It dragged against your folds, sending sparks dancing up your spine with every bump and hill rocking against it. The pointed, mushroom head brushed against your clit with every forward push. The slither of oozing tendrils joined the wet slide of his cock through your folds. They crawled all over your cunt, seeking your pleasure relentlessly.
The plexiglass in front of him fogged with his breath as he soaked in the breath of heat radiating from your sex. He wasn’t only delaying your climax but his own, drawing it out as long as he could. Every moment, every intimacy, every lovely sound - it had to last. He would make it last.
Once you were shivering underneath him, he finally let his cock rest against your entrance. A guttural moan passed his canines at the promise of your warmth and love bearing down on him, of filling you until there was no room for anything else. There he paused, barely breaching.
“My dear?” He sighed. “Allow me…”
You instinctively flexed your thighs together, but he held them apart with ease. After sucking in a breath and releasing it in a slow exhale, reminding yourself to relax, you gave him the okay.
He hoisted your ass higher up and began to thrust shallowly into you. The large tip dipped inside a little more each time, working you up into taking it. The inky, seeking tentacles writhed through your pussy, caressing your clit and labia and then pressing up into you as if to merge with your sex. Your cunt was leaking all over his dick and you could only try to hang on both to the lip of the desk and your braincells.
Thoroughly taken in with the squirming mass between your legs, you barely noticed the head of his dick pop inside you. Meanwhile, he was using every last bit of his willpower to keep from accidentally plowing you right out of the window. With that thought, he tail coiled around one of your calves nice and snug.
He tested just how distracted you were by pushing in another half an inch. When you only hummed, he thrust in the rest of the way with a hiss of pleasure.
You screamed in both surprise and ecstasy. The heavy, curved cock filled you handsomely, pressing every delicious texture up against your silky walls. He rolled his hips against the curve of your ass, pressing even further in. He watched you closely through the glass as he shifted his stance, looking for it…
Fire flooded your extremities when he finally found your g-spot. Your shoulders bunched and then went loose as you keened his name. He sighed your name back, pulled away until just the head was still in, then snapped back inside.
“Ah!” You threw your head back and squeezed your eyes shut. “Bendy!”
“I’m here,” he said as he began to fuck you in earnest.
Wet slaps of your coupling filled the room. Ink oozed out of your pussy, down your thighs, ran over his skinny legs and made a right mess of the floor. Black drool dripped off his chin and teeth to paint your back and ass. His handprints would remain long after the ink was washed off.
The partition dug into your torso with every slam, but you could barely care. All there was was the doom of climax dawning upon you. Pleasure singing through your veins, tingling your scalp and turning over and over in your lungs. The mixture of tentacles and his heavenly cock thrusting and curling and pleasing and kissing - it was too much and just right and it was everything -
You cried out with saliva rolling down your chin when you finally came. It roared through you in waves, but instead of diminishing, they became stronger. It was like exhausting the last fumes of a lighter but continuing to turn it on anyway, sending dancing sparks scorching through your abused hole. The pulses of blinding pressure developed until it was almost squishing you underfoot because he was not stopping.
Unable to speak through the painful pleasure, you reached behind you and slapped against the glass.
He slowed to a stop, panting heavily, waiting.
Now able to take in a breath, you propped yourself up on trembling arms and glanced at him. Your poor pussy was aching, but he hadn’t finished, and you didn’t exactly want the fun to end either.
With a secretive smile, you tapped your finger against your lips.
The spines on his back shuddered.
He parted with a toothy kiss to the small of your back and slid out of you. You croaked at the sensation, but he soothed it with a squeeze of your hips and a nuzzle, then he backed away.
You didn’t have the energy to watch him break open the locked door, but you could hear him stomp his way towards your room just fine. The door handle jiggled, then he went and tore it right off its hinges.
You offered him a crooked grin and reached out for him. He stalked towards you on all fours, purring so loud you could feel it in your bones. When he was merely a foot away, he took your outstretched hand in his own, then nuzzled your cheek. You sighed dreamily, then pressed many kisses to his mouth and cheek, uncaring of the ink collecting on your face. There would be more of it soon enough.
The Ink Demon said your name, then his broad tongue swept from his mouth, tracing your jaw then the seam of your lips. You kissed his tongue, then opened for him, allowing him to taste to his heart's desires. The smell of ink and paper filled your senses, especially your mouth as you sucked his greedy tongue further in. A deep rumble traveled through his mouth and into yours.
The forked end stroked deeper, tenderly testing. You let your jaw slacken and fall open, willing your gag reflex to not kick in even as you felt it tickling the back of your throat. It then curled away, only to suddenly push back in. You coughed, then swallowed and breathed through your nose, regaining your control even as he fucked your mouth with his tongue.
He chirred. “So good for me, my pet.”
You whined in reply. A pleasant haze began to fall upon you like a blanket, making the world feel simpler, saner, safer.
His tongue retreated, finally freeing the gasps in your lungs. A string of saliva, a gray mix of yours and his, connected your mouths until he licked it off your lips. He paused, noting your glazed expression.
“Technicolor?” He quietly asked.
You shook your head and squeezed his fingers. “Keep going. Want it.”
He pressed his teeth to your forehead, let go of your hand and stood on his hooves. The plexiglass shook as he placed his hands flat against it and tilted his waist towards your face.
His black, weeping cock pressed against your cheek and nose and you moaned. You opened your mouth and licked at what you could reach. It twitched. Cool, black pearlescent pre-come dripped onto your face.
For a bit, he was content with rubbing it on your face, painting you with his ink. Part of him wanted it to remain there forever, unable to be washed away. A reminder that this was not a figment of imagination.
Finally, he widened his stance and brought the head of his cock right in front of your face. You swallowed your drool and took it in your hands to swipe your tongue up the underside, lap and kiss the tip, then you took him into your mouth.
It took great restraint to wait for you to get comfortable before choking you on his dick.
Your mouth was stretched wide around his cock and every protrusion scraped against your tongue, and yet you couldn’t be more relaxed. Every sense was full of the Ink Demon, and the Ink Demon was safe, the Ink Demon was love, the Ink Demon was home. You didn’t have to worry about anything but the slide of him in your mouth, the sound of it when it dipped into your esophagus, the air that burned in your lungs when you could take a breath. Anything else was an afterthought, not anything to be concerned about. The world was gentle and warm and overflowing between his cock and your lips.
Some time later, you couldn’t tell how much, he pulled out of your mouth and humped your face until he came. A guttural, thick groan made the room shake as spurts of musky ink fountained all over you, some catching into your mouth and the rest rolling down your chin and throat.
The floorboards creaked when he knelt before you, gently wiping his essence from your eyes and forehead and whispering sweet things you couldn’t quite understand in your state.
He cupped your face and said, “My dear? My love? Speak to me.”
After blinking away some of the cotton in your head, you mumbled, “M’good. M’okay. Thank you.”
He scoffed, half in amusement and half fondly. The pressure of teeth against your temple registered deep within your heart, then a weight lifted off your midsection with a wooden crack-clack-crack-clack . Large, safe hands plucked you from the trap and set you on your unsteady feet. You would have collapsed if he didn’t guide your hands to hold onto his horns while he fixed your clothes.
Once done, he had you sit on the desk and rest against the barrier. You watched him in a glassy daze as he gathered what you were there for in the first place. Between one blink and the next, you were gathered in his arms and he was marching you both back to your base of operation.
You sighed and curled against his ribs, sticky, satiated, exhausted, and safe. A sentiment dribbled between your lips.
“Repeat that,” he said.
You willed your mouth to sound out the words: “Love you.”
Things were quiet for several steps, until he murmured, “And I love you.”