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Dead By Daylight – Oni fucks a more or less willing victim; rough; blood

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The Oni keeps hesitating at the last second before bringing his Kanabo down on the young man’s head and ending his life like he had ended many a life in his existence.

The Oni had been a spirit for centuries now, and his memories of those last rage filled years of his existence had dwindled into muddy, vague emotions that only pushed on his hatred for the living.

He never hesitated. He never felt remorse. So why did he keep letting the young man get away? It is after the fifth time that the Oni freezes with his Kanabo held high above his head when the murky light of the moon properly catches the profile of the stranger.

His eyes… his high cheekbones… the knot of his hair high atop his head. It is not as artful as the imposter Samurai had managed to put their topknots up, but it is enough to hit the Oni with a sudden clear memory for the first time in… he doesn’t know how long his cursed existence has been going on by now.

He reaches out without thinking, heavily armored arm moving faster than a human, fingers curling around the little bun of hair on top of the young man’s head; not to rip it off like he did with the topknots of the farmers, but to drag him close despite his kicking and screaming and ineffective clawing at the Oni’s arm.

The Oni should be thanking him for this little glimpse into his long-forgotten past, but he can’t make words leave his lips. His body is pushed on by the fever heat of rage and bloodlust, and he slams the young man into a tree, watching how his pretty face contorts. It has been a long time since he’s seen one of his people.

The man is dirty and scared and tears are streaking down his cheeks, but he’s also becoming more quiet now, mutely looking up into the monstrous demon mask staring down at him. Accepting his imminent death with quiet honor that immensely satisfies the Oni.

Kazan Yamaoka blinks slowly. With snippets of a forgotten life come back snippets of other emotions. His fingers begin unfurling from around the Kanabo’s handle until it thomps heavily to the ground.

.o.

The young man is still scared. Kazan can smell it – taste it on the back of his tongue – but when he understands what Kazan wants, he more than willingly spreads his legs and lets the Oni between them.

There’s nothing to slick the way for the blunt fat cock Kazan forces into the trembling clutch of his body, until something tears and blood makes the entry smoother.

The man is whimpering regardless. He’s become very quiet, clawing at Kazan’s armor; just holding on for dear life as he gets spread impossibly wide on the short fat cock of the Oni.

He takes his destiny with a kind of honor that Kazan can respect. His gloved fingers are digging into the bark of the tree, his thick, massive body holding the man up by trapping it between the hard plates of his armor and the unforgiving trunk.

The pain that it causes is negligent in comparison to getting grunt fucked by the beercan cock of the demon.

The heat surging through Kazan’s body is so different to the boiling rage he usually experiences. He had all but forgotten about his cock in the long years of his damnable existence, and the sudden warm body and dripping blood wrapped around it is hitting him unexpectedly hard.

The young man’s thighs are clenched for dear life around his broad hips, trying to hold on but really just uselessly having his feet bounce behind the Oni fucking him in eerie quiet.

Kazan is not in the business to show mercy; hasn’t been in his life and definitely not in his existence… after… but the rage has for once taken a backseat and lets him think a little more clearly. Let’s him wonder if maybe this time he could let the kid go; stumble his way out of this godforsaken place on weak legs and with cum and blood oozing from his ruined hole.

There are tiny little sounds coming from the kid; the tight panicked clench of his body is starting to relax into something smoother. He seems to start to… enjoy himself.

A night of fascinating peculiarities.