top of page

A Soul For Pleasure 1

Jules tried several times. Everyone told him he was being weird and no one would jump in those kinks with him; he downloaded a dating app and he was down for a one-night stand, but no one was down with him when he told them what he wanted.

Maybe — and most probably — that was a bad idea. He searched up something about sexual demon or inccubus, hoping to find at least hope of someone finally agreeing to do with him what he wanted (at his soul's cost? Too cheap). C'mon, my fetishes aren't that unusual, he'd say, looking at survey statistics. Maybe, too, he was just unlucky to never meet anyone with similar likings.

He didn't think he'd fucking succeed. That he'd summon a demon, a creature from hell, inside his messy room. A creature so beautiful it didn't even look human, like an angel, with porcelain skin, bright eyes and divine grace. "You look like an angel, are you really a demon?", he asked at some point, and the demon smiled an elegant smile. "Thank you, master Jules. I am."

Master. It made him feel hot inside hearing that voice tone calling him that — master Jules —, yet he wanted to be the one to bow down, to beg, to be submissive.

The demon — Duke Glaciamus — of course agreed. He'd agree to anything, if paid with a human soul, and that specific deal was a special amusement. The first morning was that, with Jules leaving his house with a small rounded vibrator inside his ass. Do it in the worst moments possible, he asked, and Glaciamus smiled politely as always and said: yes. The control was in the demon's hands, and if he pressed a button, the vibrator would start throbbing. Three different velocities, one louder than the others, and Jules could take that weird feeling of being filled up if that thing kept still. It made him sweat just thinking about the humiliation, a perverted type of fear.

He took the bus. Quite anxious for the first trembling, he moved his fingers restlessly (avoiding to move his legs too much). One street after another, he was counting one to one thousand. Of course, Glaciamus would keep him waiting.

Jules' job was a standard office job. As an accountant, the majority part of his job was checking a list of numbers' congruences. He was good with numbers and liked them, but that job became boring five years ago. He couldn't remember the last time he felt that anticipation while entering his cubicle, carefully sitting down trying to avoid grimaces when the vibrator moved a little.

"Good morning, Jules", said Anna, the lady from the next cubicle. Jules smiled.

"Good- ahn-"

A small, almost tortuous movement; a slight vibration that went on for two seconds. Jules covered his mouth. The vibrator wasn't moving anymore when Annie asked, strangely: "Jules?"

Taking advantage of the thick walls, he lied: "Sorry, I stubbed my foot on the desk. Good morning, Anna," he said nervously, trying not to stutter. Starting there, huh?

Trying to pretend nothing happened, he turned his computer on. Bending down to reach the power button made him bite his lip to cover an intrusive sound, and he started moving his fingers restlessly again, watching the screen turn blue.

He typed his username, password and opened the same tabs as yesterday, checking out a list of finances and being unable to focus at all. He could feel Glaciamus' eyes watching him from somewhere, with his finger ready to, at any time, press the button.

He was kept waiting again. While he worked, one hour, two. He looked at the clock and tried to focus in an addictive loop, fighting back the urge to move his hips and feel that tingle inside his ass.

Then, the boss arrived. Hello, good morning, he said to every one of them. Jules had a report to deliver, so he grabbed his folders under the table and hurried towards his boss, who opened the way to his office.

The semi-transparent walls effectively blocked the sounds. Everything felt quieter, calmer inside. "You asked for the last week's report documentalized last night, sir", Jules said, stretching his arm to leave three folders at the table. 

The boss took a while to remember it. Jules thought he was an idiot for really working on that report since he could get away that easily.

"Oh, yeah, of course. Thank you, Jules."

Jules smiled slightly and was about to leave the office when his name was called.

"Wait, Jules. Sit down for a minute."

He gulped nervously. That never was a good sign.

He gently pushed the chair back and sat down, and immediately the thing — he forgot for a moment it was there — started to throb. Consistently, slowly, and he graped his hands, biting his tongue trying to keep quiet.

His boss didn't seem to notice, at least. "The last week's finances were excellent, but I'd like you to prepare daily cash flow statements for next week. Your co worker Anna presented a medical license for seven days by tomorrow since she got a surgery scheduled."

Struggling to say something, he put on the clearer voice he was able to. "Yes, sir. Of course."

"I believe you're capable enough for taking this task while performing your daily activities." Jules would be pissed if the throbbing didn't intensify. He bit his cheek this time, sticking hard his fingers in his palms. 

"I, uh…", he started saying, trying to work on arguments to why he'd perform better with only one activity. He felt it moving his insides, a heat starting to rise at his body, his dick starting to twitch slightly. "I'd… perform better if you… if I'd…"

His boss watched him questioningly. Jules was breathing heavily.

"...If I'd… be left with… uhm", he moaned softly, trying his best to stop.

"...Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah. It's just a stomachache…", he bit his lower lip, "I'd work on this more… proficiently… if I, ah, could take… one… at a time."

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah…", it sounded more like a moan than a confirmation, and he'd be burning in shame if that didn't feel so fucking good, if the humiliation he was being put through wasn't so fucking hot, thinking about Glaciamus watching him losing control slowly, thinking about what his demon'd do to him when he got home. He should act normally or he'd be punished.

Well, he wasn't acting exactly normal. He whispered, almost pleading: "Sorry."

Uncomfortable, his boss got up, walking to the door. "You should, y'know… use the bathroom. Take your time." 

Jules didn't care about his weirded expression, he just wanted to get out of there (although walking made that thing twist slightly inside of him). He hurried to the bathroom, meaning to take a deep breath and try to get his shit together, get rid of the volume starting to show in his pants. If someone catched him with a boner at work, he wouldn't know what to say, even though it sounded kinda exciting.

Jules entered the bathroom and the tremble stopped. Of course. He went to the shrink and washed his face, hoping the cold water could brake his arousal, stuffed a bunch of toilet paper into his hands and got into his own pants to clean himself, looking behind his shoulder to check if he was really alone. He posed to the mirror, wondering if he appeared normal again. Is someone gonna notice? He nervously hoped so, while still fearing for his job and only income. 

Going back to his small cubicle, he knew he'd have to work at home to keep up with his boss' expectations and take care of Anne's tasks, especially now, after a sudden moan at his face.

From time to time, he felt a throb. Glaciamus wouldn't let him forget about that thing, and had a preference for turning it on when Jules had to talk to someone else, making him squirm in the chair, stuttering like an idiot, and he said the same to everyone: stomachache. Anne even worried, saying he should see a doctor, and he, sweating nervously, said he was fine (it was fucking moving).

It was torturous and he felt wet, dirty all day. "I'll take on Anne's work," he said to his boss, knowing it was impossible to hold a conversation and giving up his attempt to address one task at a time. Anne thanked him when the sky started to darken and he finally walked back home.

Suffering in anticipation, he moved his hips slightly when the max velocity showed, standing in the bus. People noticed a buzzing sound, that was sure, and he got strange looks every time. He made some expressions, and at that point, he just couldn't really control himself, tasting blood on his mouth from biting his own tongue to avoid any sound. When he thought about getting home, listening to Glaciamus' voice and having that vibrator out of him, everything spinned. 

Until his house's door, he walked with his suitcase covering his aching erection, with his hands suddenly having too much trouble separating the right key from the keychain.

His first vision was Glaciamus on the couch, crossing his legs and looking at him from above, emaneting superiority.

Glaciamus was icy, his skin so pale, almost bluish, too perfect to be human. Smooth, inviting. His pointy ears twitched in satisfaction, reducing Jules to a miserable pleading human with his gaze. His tail, like a lion's, moved from side to side, slowly (a predator), and Jules' mind became blank.

Standing before the demon on his couch, he couldn't talk, mesmerized by Glaciamus and what he was planning for him.

Glaciamus smiled. He held the vibrator's small controller. "Were you hoping someone would find out?", the demon said, calmly. "You weren't really hiding it, were you?"

Jules shivered, sighing loud. He really did wish for that.

"You can't even talk?", Glaciamus mocked. "Pull down your pants, Jules."

Trembling with pleasure, Jules couldn't even think of denying that. He turned around, feeling his legs wavering, threatening to give in to his own weight. Grabbing the waistband, he pulled his pants down, starting to really feel the vibrator, even turned off and still.

Glaciamus got up, and Jules could feel that cold atmosphere approaching and surrounding him the closer he was, shadowing his back. The demon's skin was indeed cold, and when he touched Jules' waist, it felt as if he had pressed an ice cube against him. It was a nice chock, a different tingle running down his body.

Then Glaciamus glided his finger — pointed as a knife — to his entrance and it all felt (for so little) too overwhelming. His hand slipped inside and Jules felt the exact movement: two fingers wrapping around the black vibrator, holding it firmly and sliding it out, little by little. A relief followed by emptiness invaded Jules. He let out a quiet moan, knowing Glaciamus watched his every move from afar all day.

"I believe your lack of discretion made you busier with work tonight," said the demon. "You should solve this."

Jules immediately nodded, too hypnotized to deny. He indeed got more work than he'd have liked with Anne's chores.

It amused the demon that a human would call him not to ask for a specific job but to do one. Jules almost begged on his knees to be treated as inferior and to Glaciamus take charge of his life, humiliate him when he had the chance until such time as he uttered that he was satisfied to have his soul taken. Jules wished he weren't as submissive as he was the first time around, but the fact that Glaciamus closed his deals with a kiss didn't really help.

Jules took his work files from his briefcase and went to the kitchen table. He was trembling before the demon's eyes, not wearing his pants again, aroused and with a cock ring preventing him from forging accidental touches to rub against it enough to come. Sitting back in his chair, he took a deep breath and gathered his files. He needed to prepare the daily report. He sorted out the necessary data, silently, and listened to Glaciamus' light footsteps. He kept paying attention to the numbers and the calculator left on the table, and tried to rationalize the listing of clients, costs, profits, placement of investments.

An icy trail grazed his skin. The demon's hands descended from his chest to his thighs, encircling him behind the chair, and Jules stopped. He dropped his pen, almost to the limit. "Why did you stop?" the demon whispered in his ear.

It seemed simple enough; the caresses would only continue as long as he worked actively. Shaking and struggling not to drop the pen again, he went back to scratching the corner of a report and Glaciamus's hands moved along.

The demon walked around his chair. Jules's heartbeat was almost visibly strong, breathing heavily, deeply, biting his lip in a complete mess. Glaciamus bent down, gripping Jules's knees, and cast him a lustful look before pulling his legs apart, forcing him to spread them wider, to lean toward him. Jules groaned in surprise, struggling not to drop the pen, and failing miserably.

Glaciamus' tongue was the coldest point on his body; long, with a gelatinous and soft consistency. It was thin at the tip, had inconsistencies like little columns on the sides, and the texture of it was delicious. Always wet, when he licked Jules's entrance, he smeared it, and Jules couldn't help himself. Glaciamus squeezed his thighs tightly, looking up at him. It was nice that he understood that silent threat and immediately forced himself to stop looking at him and go back: numbers. Numbers, bills, yes.

He could feel Glaciamos' tail brushing his calves, curling them, and it was getting harder and harder to tell one data from the other. The tip of his tongue was already starting to slide in, and Jules' cock was trembling with excitement, leaking, begging for release.

Jules couldn't think of anything anymore with that icy feeling coming into him, and Glaciamus noticed. He licked long his entrance down to his balls before pulling away, watching him with mute challenge on his face. Jules grunted, disapproving of the pause, and Glaciamus slowly climbed up, propped up on his knees, to face him straight. "Why don't you explain to me exactly what you're doing?"

The demon then went to his back and pushed him against the table, forcing him to lay his chest on top of it. He kicked the chair away, tugged on Jules's hair and pressed his body against his. He whispered in his ear, "You can start."

Jules knew it'd be asking too much of him. Feeling Glaciamus pressing him hard against the table, feeling his cold body on his back, the pain of his hair pulling and the hands circling his ass; the aching cock, unable to relieve itself, and he'd have to explain. His head didn't form any consistent sentences, not after fantasizing about it all day, having an object quivering inside him, spending hours biting his tongue to keep from moaning.

One of those fingers of his—an ice cube, almost—slipped inside him easily, sinking into the saliva already wetting him. "I, uh…" Jules stuttered, sighing. Glaciamus didn't wait. He entered it with a second finger, moving back and forth in a calm, collected rhythm. Jules wanted to arch up, spread his legs and beg him to get all his fingers in, to let him moan his name over and over again. "I'm… sorting receipts…" Glaciamus followed Jules's trembling fingers, pointing at what he explained, checking if he wasn't making something up. As if he genuinely wanted to know, with his chin on Jules' shoulder and the constant movements of his two fingers. "From… the income… tax", he began to struggle with the syllables to not drag them out too long, "and the… uh…"

"The… ?", the demon hurried, with that same smile and perverse sadism.

"The…", he searched his head for what he was saying in the first place, "the tax…"

"You already said that part," Glaciamus amused himself.

"...Right...", he whispered, "the... wage payments," he moved his finger to

the other column of the table, "...and the suppliers... payment", by the end of the sentence, Jules was already filling his words with air, blowing them out in heavy sighs. Pushing himself back, craving more contact and speed, deeper, Jules lowered his head and whispered, "Please…"

A rush of air from Glaciamus' nasal laughter chilled his lobe. "Don't act like you don't like this, you whining shit." Jules didn't know how he did it, turning any phrase into elegance. The furry tip of his tail brushed Jules' balls, and Jules felt his arms tremble, weakening. He could barely keep himself on the table. "Look at you…," he said softly, and stuck another finger in, without changing its speed, "shivering, without even being able to explain the basics of your work to me. Without even being able to hold a pen…" Jules only noticed the pen lying on the table when the demon pointed it out. He was too wrapped up in that indescribable pleasure bordering on unbearable. "You're so pathetic. It disgusts me how much you enjoy this." Suddenly, Glaciamus thrust all his fingers to his knuckles and stopped inside Jules, hearing him groan. "I won't allow you to cum if you don't finish your fucking job," he said softly, and quickly withdrew his fingers from inside Jules and waved his hand in the air as if in disgust.

Jules collapsed on the table, gasping. "Please."

The demon didn't respond. In fact, he ignored him, turning his back to wash his smeared hands.

Jules tried again, louder. "Please… please," he begged.

Glaciamus didn't even care, didn't even look back. "Do you have any idea how you sound now?"

"Pathetic," he whispered under his breath, wishing that Glaciamus would go back to insulting him in his ear, softly, fucking him with his fingers.

"That too. You sound like a cheap whore."

Glaciamus dried his freshly washed hands and acted as if he were talking about the weather, replying what time it is.

He approached slowly. Jules shivered in anticipation, but the demon didn't touch him anymore.

He spoke, very close, without touching: "What do you want?"

"...Let me come, please."

"What do you want?" he asked again, slowly. Jules shuddered, his weak arms failing again to support his body on the table.

"I want…", he took a deep breath, closing his eyes, "I want you to keep touching me. Please fuck me, fuck me hard." The demon's silence made him go on, spitting whatever obscenity came to his mind: "I know I sound like a whore… I don't deserve you, but I need you so much. Let me come, please."

Glaciamus backed away. Jules could never even dream of being all that calm.

The demon then walked over to the couch and sat down, crossing his legs, leaving it lying open on the table.

"Finish your job," he ordered, quietly.

Jules dug his nails into his palms again, holding back as best he could. He felt his skin starting to sag with the force and he tortured himself with the thought of how long it would take to finish that report.

With nervous spasms, Jules pulled the chair back and sat down slowly, his legs spread and his hips moving slightly. He'd do anything to get him moving inside him again right now, anything.

He took the pen in his hand and sighed.

His cock was still throbbing, and he had to restrain himself from touching it, way too hard, especially when Glaciamus brushed the tip of his tail against his thighs, teasing him.

He never made a report so quickly, so carelessly, with shaky, scrawled letters. He'd digitize it, and try to do it before his boss saw it so he could at least review it. His head didn't work right, he was no longer able to see numbers and recognize them as such, much less to subtract, add, multiply. He'd always been good at math, but he'd even counted simple things on his fingers, his entire body shivering from the fuzzy trail of Glaciamus' tail.

An hour of torturing himself and trying to make count after count, Jules filled the last field of his chart, tachycardic and breathing loudly, thinking only of Glaciamus' hands and his textured tongue.

He felt Glaciamus' presence grow over his shoulder. He was scanning the table, analyzing it. He saw his hands shaking and the letters trembling.

"Is that it?" said the demon. Jules shook his head.

"Yes," he stuttered.

Glaciamus nodded and every second that passed without touching Jules sounded like an eternity of anticipation, desperate for him. The demon swung Jules' chair around slowly, causing him to look in his direction. Jules inadvertently spread his legs further apart, as if making room for him, his body begging of its own accord.

Glaciamus looked at him from head to toe. He noticed, of course and as usual. "Are you still shaking? You barely waited to ingratiate yourself with me, spreading your legs like that. You don't sound like a whore, Jules, you are one."

Jules closed his eyes, panting. He couldn't keep his hips still, pushing them slowly toward the demon. Precum was starting to wet the seat of the chair, mixing with a small puddle of dried saliva that oozed from inside his entrance. "Yes," he said, begging, "yes, I'm a whore."

The demon bent down, resting his hands on his knees like the last time, and Jules nearly groaned.

"What do you want me to do, huh?" he said, quietly and staring at Jules.

He moved his chin, formed three different responses in his head, and all he managed was a stutter. "Your… your tongue…"

"What's with my tongue?" he prompted.

"Fuck me with it."

Glaciamus' cold hands gripped Jules's inner thighs and he lifted his hips immediately, watching mesmerized as the demon opened his mouth, stuck his tongue between his pointed teeth and licked it there again; an icy relief where he felt on fire. Jules shoved his hands into the chair and groaned loudly, dragged, as Glaciamus's long, wet tongue spurred him deeper and deeper. Saliva dripped, dripped excessively down the seat of the chair, and made Jules's leg tingle slowly running down it. The sight of Glaciamus between his legs, saliva dripping from the corners of his open mouth, looking at him and flicking his tongue so lasciviously was so hot, and he cursed himself for not being able to maintain eye contact, forced to throw his head back, practically swaying at the same speed as Glaciamus circled his insides.

Everything was too hot, but he didn't ask him to remove the cock ring; static, Jules could make out all the textures of that tongue, the little rounded bumps in a row, massaging him; he felt them one by one, so lost in it that he forgot what he was begging for so little time ago.

"There," Jules groaned (and sure enough his neighbors were listening). He wanted to moan his name over and over, but he couldn't say it all without being interrupted by a slurred moan. "Glaah… Glaci- ah…"

He felt his icy, completely luscious tongue caressing his prostate, licking it like ice cream, stopping when he was at his limit. His cock had small spasms, begging again.

Jules's rambling moans became a succession of please, please, please. His eyes were already filled with tears as the wave of indescribable pleasure never reached its peak, it only lingered, longer and longer, and the satisfaction in the demon's gaze was obvious for causing such despair.

His tongue then left his entrance and he felt it slide inch by inch until it was completely free, with a wet pop. A tear rolled down Jules' cheek, and the demon immediately smiled, standing up. "Poor thing," he scoffed.

Jules glazed his attention at the smooth descent of Glaciamus' hands, headed to his cock, and spread his legs in anticipation as he slid the black ring off with relief. Before he could touch himself in despair, the demon grabbed his wrists and stopped him.

"You asked me to make you come," he said, seriously for the first time, "and I will. But I won't touch you." Jules's low groan made him laugh. He released his wrists and reached over, grabbed Jules's neck and forced him. "You're going to come looking at me."

Jules nodded too quickly, his lips parted and an alarming pleasure in the pressure of his pointed nails on his skin. Glaciamus was wedged between his legs, careful not to rub against his cock and with his face too close.

"Somehow," Glaciamus said. His seriousness seemed to carry a contained threat, and the fear was pleasurable to Jules, with that tone he'd never heard before, "I hoped you'd lose it in your boss' office. You entertained me... but it could be better, couldn't it? You could have moaned like the little bitch you are, spreading your legs like you spread it for me. You could have gave in and wiggled in your chair, thinking of me fucking you. Can you imagine if your boss called your coworkers to help get you out of the office, with no idea why you were moving and moaning like that? Your coworkers would see you as you are when they opened that door. They'd see you like that, shaking your hips…" Jules didn't even notice he was doing exactly what he was told until Glaciamus pointed out. He shifted his hips, looking for friction, completely needy. "Saying please… begging, in front of everyone, for someone to fuck you. If any of them wanted to, you'd let them, wouldn't you? Desperate for someone to shove that vibrator deeper inside of you. I'm sure. You'd take your pants off if someone told you to. If someone just spoke to you in the right intonation, you'd let them all see how much you love this, the whore you behave like, opening yourself up to them. You'd be there, on all fours, so obedient... waiting for them to play with you one by one. Or would you prefer them all at once, huh? So they'd rip you open far more than you can handle? Maybe you would like that. It'd suit you to become the office bitch, for anyone to fuck you at any time, and I know you would moan like that every single time… tell me, would you think of me? Would you call my name instead of theirs? I'd watch it all... until you were overflowing with-"

Jules didn't immediately reason what had happened. He wrapped himself so vividly in the fantasy described, suddenly wishing he had actually done it all (only to see Glaciamus' reaction at the end); before he knew it, he saw him close his eyes; he saw his long pale eyelashes and sadistic seriousness turn into a satisfied smile.

He barely noticed the pressure dissipating from his body; the thin jets of semen spattered the demon's face and he looked beautiful in his eyes—even more so than before—as if they were an accessory.

"...Next time, then," said the demon of what he described. He ran his fingers over his face before opening his eyes, licking Jules' cum remnants.

Glaciamus had a wicked smile. He quickly arched a brow at Jules, waiting for him to say something (and he didn't even know he could come without anyone touching him).

Breathless, Jules admired the perfect face in front of him. All he could manage to say was, "Fuck."

The demon's expression returned to the pattern Jules knew: not a wicked smile, but a calm, polite, and even affable one. His eyes were no longer menacing, though he was certainly in control.

With his thumb, he touched Jules's chin very gently.

"You did well, master Jules," he praised softly.

Jules managed a small smile. His muscles went completely numb from relieving themselves after so long, as if he weighed a ton.

He gazed adoringly at Glaciamus, watching him wash his face and hands in the sink, then bring two rows of paper towels to wipe him down. The demon dried him gently, being watched.

"I could lose my job," muttered Jules (pretending to have cared about this earlier).

"Yes… and that excited you," said the demon, "the lack of control." He smiled and crumpled up the paper towels to throw them in the trash. 

He turned to Jules, looking him over from head to toe. 

"Are you satisfied?"

If Jules hadn't been alert to the words, he might have answered something he didn't mean (having his soul taken in much sooner than he expected). He leaned back in his chair. "If you keep doing this to me, I don't think I'll ever be..."

"I'm just performing what you asked me to." He reached out to help Jules up, knowing his legs would be too wobbly to walk on his own. Jules took his hand.

"Did you..." he hesitated as he never did before him, "did you like it? Of what we did."

Jules wasn't able to read Glaciamus' gaze. He took comfort in the softness of his hands, supporting him lightly. "It's always my pleasure to humiliate a human."

He laughed. "Oh, I figured that part out. I mean… like, you don't… don't want me to help you come too?" Jules took advantage of the closeness to speak softly, fixed on those lips as soft as the rest of his skin. It would drive him crazy to see Glaciamus with a genuine expression of pleasure, to feel his desires as much as Jules wanted him. And deep down, he knew that maybe that wasn't possible. Glaciamus was such a superior creature.

The demon smiled and leaned in, kissing Jules's lips softly. Jules cupped the back of his neck and enjoyed every second. Even the taste of him was good, sweet, smooth, Jules felt it without even touching his tongue, like magic.

"Master Jules," he whispered against his lips, "you command me. I am here solely at your disposal."

"That… is kinda hot," he smirked, "but I mean what you want. Truly. I could pleasure you... if you wanted me to."

Glaciamus patiently guided him into the bedroom, his tightly gripped shoulder being used for support. "You already did. I only don't possess human needs. Therefore, it's my job to exclusively serve you until you're satisfied."

Jules stroked the back of the demon's neck, feeling the silky hairs in his fingers. Glaciamus' not only physical coldness cut him in the same way that it turned him on (although it was impossible for that to happen now, with such tiredness). Jules wished that, after all those offenses, he could have him more intimately.

"Can you... at least lie down with me?" he asked quietly. "Be sweet to me… I don't know."

"Anything you wish for, master," he smiled.

Struggling to get into bed after flopping onto the mattress, Jules pulled the blankets up and motioned for Glaciamus to join him. He'd take a shower in the morning, impossible now with his energy level, his entire body wobbly and sore. Glaciamus lay down beside him, watching him.

"You wish for comfort?" 

Jules nodded shyly. The demon touched his face and caressed his chin, running his hands down his arms until they rested on his waist. He leaned over and Jules understood, doing the same, snuggling into Glaciamus' arms. The coolness contrasted with the warmth of the blankets, and that pleased Jules's senses.

Jules closed his eyes as Glaciamus stroked his hair so gently.

"Tomorrow," Jules said, "can we do it again?"

"I'm afraid I'd do it worse."

Jules smiled, hugging him. "Make me lose my job, I hate that place."

Glaciamus laughed. 

"My pleasure."


Did you enjoy this tale? You may like my demon bundles or the continuation for this story. :)


Die Kommentarfunktion wurde abgeschaltet.
bottom of page