Chapter Text
Da’an was depressed. This was nothing new, he had been feeling this all-encompassing despair ever since arriving in the city of Prehevil, but it was only getting worse with every passing day.
It was evening on Day 2, the dawn before the last day. He could sense his time running out with every breath.
The cat was coming, and soon he wouldn’t be able to hold it off any longer.
He could hear its whispers at night – see the eyes in the darkness, the seven-foot-tall form. Hear the dull purr in his ears.
“Say, old chap, why not sit down and have a nice rubbing? I promise not to tell. Just a shared moment, between us gentlemen… That is what we are, isn’t it? Gentlemen… Not degenerates abandoned to whore themselves out in the streets?”
The creature’s grin glittered.
“Hmm… are we pretending not to miss it? Go on, darling, just one quick jerk. You’ll be yourself again.”
“No,” Da’an groaned, putting one hand to his forehead. “I’m not that… person anymore. I’m better now.”
The cat seemed to wrap its arms around him, glad that he was finally responding. “Is this better? Your parents didn’t think so. Sylvian is a wonderful master to please… I can help you learn,” He purred, his hand wandering into Da’an’s checkered pants. “And you certainly seem to remember.”
It wasn’t until he felt the warm fur against his t-dick that Da’an realized that the cat was really there.
“Get off!” He gasped, struggling to pull the cat off him. Pocketcat responded by grabbing him by the wrist, not at all gently.
“Don’t be boring,” The entity grinned, digging its claws into his flesh. “You need to heal yourself, don’t you? Don’t want to waste another little blue vial <3.”
Da’an whimpered, despite himself. His wrist was fractured, and the creature’s grip was agonizing.
Pocketcat was often cruel to him, but always verbally, always emotionally. This was the first time that it had resorted to violence. Perhaps because he was becoming more desperate?
“I’ve seen you healing the others,” The cat purred, dipping its head to whisper into Da’an’s ear. “Sweet little whispers, your lips dotting their cheek, their neck. Your hand wandering across their chest. How you long to have it wander downward…”
Pocketcat squeezed Da’an, as if emphasizing that he was hard. One of its fingers trailed downward further, dipping into what was already beginning to drip with wetness.
“Please,” He hated how the touch made him gasp. “Just leave me alone!”
“No,” Pocketcat responded gayly, with a malicious chuckle. “My master told me not to interfere with the festival… But he also told me to meddle amongst the gods. He is a jealous creature, yes, and he wouldn’t want you servicing Sylvian all by yourself. Why, I’m doing him a favor by helping you convert to what you truly are!”
“I’m trying to – to participate in the festival.”
The cat wasn’t letting him go, distorting his words by sinking into his cunt, up to the first knuckle.
There was another chuckle at his stutter, his faltering form. “It’s been a long time for you, hasn’t it, old friend? Perhaps you need a helping hand, especially since you’re missing one.”
Da’an tried to fight the burgeoning despair, knowing that he was missing his right arm. With his left fractured, too, he wasn’t in the right state to fight the cat off, or even to ignore its malicious whisperings.
Instead, he found himself moaning, accidentally, as a second finger slipped inside.
“That’s a good boy,” Pocketcat purred. “If you ever need someone to help you, I’ll be here. But it would be easier if you let me give you back your arms…”
“I’m not going to give up,” Da’an growled, “So you can just fuck off already.”
He was surprised by the vehemence in his voice, but Pocketcat’s grin only became more gleeful. Perhaps drawing his anger out was another of the creature’s attempts at corrupting him.
“Oh! I was hoping that you would say that,” Pocketcat purred. “Because I have a better idea of how to convince you. Let’s play a game, shall we? I have a fun one in mind – it’s called Escape!”
Before Da’an could respond, the entity slipped its hand out of his pants and dragged him by the wrist, to the stack of crates against a nearby post.
“What are you doing!?” Da’an yelped, trying not to scream from the pain. “Let me go!”
“We’re playing Escape!” Pocketcat laughed. He pushed Da’an into the crates, so that he was lying on his stomach over them. Da’an’s remaining arm was wrenched upward, and the cat supplied a handcuff from the air, quickly attaching him to the post.
“W-Wait,” Da’an gasped. “Please – what are you doing?”
“Let me explain the rules,” Pocketcat’s grin was devilish, almost blending into the moonlight. “You have until Night 3 to escape the pole, or I win. If you escape the pole… on Night 3, I’ll still win.” He laughed. “Does that sound fair?”
“Please,” Da’an hated begging to this… this demon, but he was growing terrified. “Pocketcat, you can’t do this. They’ll kill me – I’m helpless like this. Your master told you not to meddle!”
“I thought of that,” Pocketcat says, deviously. He grabbed Da’an’s pants and underwear and pulled them to his ankles, revealing a generous, plush ass and his cunt, still moist from Pocketcat’s earlier teasing.
“Now you aren’t so helpless, are you?” The demon purred. “You have no choice but to use your true talents to keep yourself alive. And I’m sure that it will go swimmingly~”
Da’an tried to scream, but he was afraid to draw any attention to himself. Instead he pressed his legs together and whispered, desperately.
“Pocketcat, please, just let me go. I’ll give you what you want – you want to see magic? Then I’ll give you magic.” He couldn’t stop his voice from hardening, halfway through the plea. His remaining arm started to swirl with summoning, a black orb forming at his fingertips.
But with his hand cuffed in the opposite direction, he couldn’t aim it, and the projectile simply exploded across the alley, destroying a nearby box.
Pocketcat’s snicker was all that he could hear. “Oh Da’an, I’m not sure who taught you that piddling spell, but that’s not where your true talents lie.”
The warm hand was on his back, the creature’s hard crotch pressing against his ass. He felt the shockingly large erection straining against the creature’s pants, and felt another wave of terror.
“N-No, you demon-”
“Oh hush,” Pocketcat lowered himself, forcing Da’an’s legs apart. “You don’t need to pretend around me, old chap. I can tell that you need this.”
He lowered himself, so that his head was positioned underneath Da’an’s cunt, and gave it a slow, teasing lick. Da’an jolted, instinctively pressing his thighs together and squeezing the sides of Pocketcat’s head, hopefully hard enough to hurt.
Instead, Pocketcat just moaned, perversely.
“Yes, throw some pain into the mix,” He purred, undeterred. “You know how to titillate a gentleman’s feelings.
“You-You degenerate-” Da’an gasped.
“Like looking into a mirror,” Was Pocketcat’s response, as he gave another lick. His tongue was textured, and he was moving it horrifically slowly, up the length of Da’an’s cunt, settling onto his large clit. He circled the dick, teasingly, before giving it a little suck.
Da’an moaned, arching his back. Despite himself, he was overwhelmed by the pleasure.
It had been such a long time since anyone had touched him… He was aching, his body giving way to Pocketcat’s abuse.
“See, you enjoy this,” Pocketcat responded, his warm breath against Da’an’s throbbing flesh only stimulated him further. “Isn’t this a fun situation? Tied up, exposed to anyone who should walk by. What will your fellow contestants think? Oh, will they still respect you after this? Will they allow you to walk amongst them, knowing the noises that you make, the wetness between your legs?”
He buried his tongue into Da’an, whose trembling thighs clenched his head further. He was doing everything in his power not to ride Pocketcat’s face, but he felt his hips moving just slightly.
The cat moved his tongue inside, scraping the sensitive walls. Da’an moaned, loudly, and couldn’t stop himself now from riding the creature’s face, wishing despite himself that the tongue was bigger, deeper, filling him further. He couldn’t see it, but he knew that the cat was touching itself, palming through his pants – or perhaps he had also exposed himself, hungry for the eyes of passerbys, enjoying the cool air against his own throbbing dick.
“Isn’t this more fun than hiding yourself?” Pocketcat purred, when he pulled his tongue out. He swiped it across his lips, which quickly turned back to Da’an’s aching clit. His dick was fully erect, and the textured tongue was torturous. With a few agonizingly slow licks, and a few gentle sucks, Pocketcat pulled away.
Da’an hated himself for how much he immediately missed it.
“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” Pocketcat said, breathlessly. He sounded hungry, like he was having trouble tearing himself away.
“No you won’t!” Da’an gasped, struggling to escape the cloud of lust that had dangerously engulfed him. “Let me go! You damned demon, you can’t leave me like this!”
There was another plea underneath his words.
You can’t leave me like this without finishing me off!!!
“POCKETCAT! COME BACK!”
His begging fell upon deaf ears, only audible to the rats and the nearby corpses.
The cat was gone, and yet he was still being watched.
The moon overhead made sure of that.