My Demonic Soulmate
Priscilla Powell · Ongoing · 93.9k Words
Introduction
“Fuck, Adrianna, your mouth is heaven. But I need more. I need to be inside you.” He'd pulled me up roughly, crushing his lips to mine in a kiss of fire and possession. Tongue invaded, tasting of smoke and sin, hands yanking my lingerie off to expose my curvy form—breasts heaving, pussy slick. I'd melted into him, arms around his neck, kiss deepening as his cock ground against my belly.
Trigger Warnings included: Abusive Parents, Alcohol, Alcohol Consumption, Anal Sex, Assault, BDSM , Betrayal, Bigotry, Blood, Blood Magic, Bondage, Breath Play, Bullying, Captive Scenarios, Chaos, Cheating, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Consensual Dubious Consent, Cursing, Death, Degradation, Degradation Kink, Demons, Description Of A Violent Death, Discussion Of Mental Health, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, Dubious Non-Consent, Emotional Abuse, Explicit Sexual Situations For 18+, Face Fucking, Fear Play, Gangbang, Gore, Graphic Murder, Graphic Rape, Graphic Violence, Home Invasion, Inappropriate Use Of Meds, Mental Abuse, Mention Of Drunkenness, Masturbation, Mentions Of Child Abuse, Murder, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Touching, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Parental Neglect, Physical Abuse, Physical Harm, Primal Play, Profanity, Psychological Abuse, Rape, Rough Sexual Content, Sadomasochism, Satan/The Devil, Self Harm, Self Harm/Cutting For Magical Purposes, Serial Killer And Their Crimes, Severed Han, Sex, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Assault, Sexual Harassment, Sexually Explicit Scenes, Slut Shaming, Somnophilia, Spanking, Speciesism, Stalking, Strong Language, Suicidal Thoughts. Suicide, Suicide Ideation. Thoughts Of Suicide, Torture, Triple Penetration, Verbal Abuse, Violence, Voyeurism
Chapter 1
⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧ Adrianna ⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧
As far back as I can remember, I have had a voice in my head. I know it is not mine because it is the voice of a man. He said his name is Apollyon, but I can call him Apollo. He has protected me when I did not know how, and has comforted me when I had no one else. I do not know if I am crazy or if he is real. And if I am being honest, a t this point in my life it would not matter. At the age of 17 I ran away from home in the middle of the night because he told me to. When I was 10 I learned to do as he told me, I made the mistake of not doing it and paid the price. Never again did I make that mistake.
Since I was 17, I wandered the world alone, with no one but Apollo for company, going where he said and slept where he told me. Somehow he knew where to find fresh food and money. I very rarely hitchhiked, he did not like or trust many people. Under his advice I have settled in North Carolina.
It has been 6 months since I heard from Apollo. His last instruction was to go get a job at The Underworld as a server. Since his disappearance, I also took a secondary gig as a dancer at the same club and started an OnlyFans account, mainly because I know that Apollo would be pissed off and very disappointed in me if he ever decided to reappear.
⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧
“Adrianna, will you be dancing for us tonight after you are done?” Dixon asked.
Dixon was a very loyal customer. He has a habit of visiting 4 times a week, always orders the same thing, a Vieux Carre, and always asks me the same question.
“Only if you want me too, sugar.” I answered in the most innocent, flirtatious voice I could muster.
“I most certainly do.
“Will you finally be requesting a private dance or will you be throwing dollars from the crowd?”
“I have had a lucky day and am feeling a bit generous, so I think a private dance will be the perfect ending for this day.”
“I have 30 more minutes left on my shift, then I will be yours.”
I was honestly not looking forward to the one-on-one session, especially with this perv. However, I need the money so I will do whatever it takes to save enough to leave this crappy town. I only came here because of Apollo, but since he has abandoned me I see no reason to stay even a minute longer than I need to.
I do not mind wearing the leather corset and matching shorts that are just short enough to see the garter belt keeping my stockings in place, but still long enough to keep myself covered. However, these fishnet stockings and 5 inch stilettos are getting on my last nerve. The only reason I wear them is because I tend to get ten times the tips I usually get when wearing regular heels and plain black stockings.
So every Friday and Saturday night I wear my leather and fishnet stockings, since these are the days that I get the most tips and the most requests for private dances. These are even the nights that the more wealthier clients tend to request specific outfits, each with the promise of an even bigger tip.
When I first started, a client requested a “Catholic school girl” outfit, I ordered one the next day. Now I have two dozen different outfits that I keep in my locker. I can say each and every one was a great investment considering the tips I get each time I wear them.
“Is everything alright, Adrianna?” Dixon asked, pulling me from my thoughts.
“I’m sorry, I was in a whole nother world there for a minute. What were you saying?”
“I was asking if you have any new outfits?”
“I do actually, is there a particular outfit you would like to see?”
“I would love to see you in a Princess Leia outfit.”
“It must be your lucky day.”
“How so?”
“I actually just purchased that outfit yesterday.”
“Since it is my lucky day, does that mean I get a discount tonight?”
“No matter how much I enjoy our time together, you will never be that lucky. Not even my boss is that lucky.”
“Ehh, it was worth a shot.”
“If you are low on cash and need a discount, I would suggest buying some time with Mary.”
“Really?”
“Oh yeah, I think she has some kind of special going on this week. Buy one private session and get another half-off. Something like that anyway.”
“Does she have a Princess Leia outfit?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Will you let her borrow yours?”
“That will be a big fat no.”
“Well then I will have to take a pass on that special and keep my appointment with you.”
“Alrighty then.” I said, “Give me 10 minutes to get changed and we can get started.
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When I Disappeared, He Regretted It
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The Family Sacrifice
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Mom said, "After the surgery, we'll make it up to you."
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Three months later .
He knelt down on the streets of Chicago in despair, begging me to remarry him.
My six-year-old son looked coldly at his biological father and said, "Get lost, you bad uncle! You don't deserve to be my dad!"
He Thought I'd Never Leave
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I Died While They Threw Her a Party
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