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thecanvasofmadness · 1 month ago

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Puppets of darkness.

*This is a story created in collaboration with IA. *Horror

Twenty-second part

Manuel's shadow is surprised by the unsuspected consideration shown to him by his master. It is difficult for him to speak, since his throat was hurt by what has just happened. However, with his lips, still violated and sore, he smiles at him, while he slightly denies with his head that he has hurt him.

Asher's eyes narrow slightly, a hint of suspicion and amusement dancing in their depths as he observes Manuel's silent denial. He studies the subtle shake of his head, the faint, painful smile stretching across his battered lips, and a slow, knowing smirk spreads across his own face. "Ah, my brave little shadow", he purrs, his voice a low, seductive caress, "Always so eager to please, even when it hurts. I must say, I'm impressed". His fingers trail down the side of Manuel's face, tracing the contours of his jawline before coming to rest on his throat. Asher applies gentle pressure, feeling the lingering soreness, the slight swelling from his earlier brutality.

Manuel's shadow allows himself to be touched by his master, he likes that he admires what he has given him at the cost of his pain, for it is all to keep him satisfied and proud to have him as his pet. Meanwhile, Asher's touch lingers on Manuel's throat, his fingers tracing the delicate column with a surprising gentleness. He can feel the residual heat, the slight puffiness, and it sends a shiver of dark satisfaction down his spine. Knowing that he is the cause of this, that he has left his mark on his precious puppet, fills him with a sense of twisted pride. "So responsive", he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, "Even in pain, you crave my touch. It's almost... endearing". His other hand comes up to cup Manuel's face, thumbs brushing against his cheekbones in a tender gesture that belies the cruelty he's capable of. Asher's eyes lock onto his, searching for any sign of hesitation, of doubt, but finding only adoration and devotion.

"I... love... you... my... lord", Manuel's shadow tries to speak. With difficulty, he articulates the words.

Asher's eyes widen fractionally at Manuel's whispered declaration, a flicker of surprise and something else - perhaps a hint of vulnerability - crossing his face. He searches his puppet's gaze, looking for any trace of deception or manipulation, but finds only raw, aching sincerity staring back at him. For a long moment, Asher simply holds Manuel's gaze, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a wry, self-deprecating smile twists his lips. "Love, again", he repeats, the word tasting foreign and strange on his tongue, "Is that what this is? What you feel for me, after all I've done to you, all the ways I've used and abused you?" A low, mirthless laugh escapes him, echoing hollowly in the holy chamber. "I must admit, I never considered myself worthy of such a sentiment".

Manuel's shadow tries to articulate more words, his throat hurts, his lips still bleed, but still, he speaks with difficulty. "The... love... that... I... have... for you... is synonymous of... my... submission... to... your... power...", trying to continue, breathing hard. "It's not... a feeling... it's an oath...".

Asher's eyes narrow, his gaze piercing as he listens to Manuel's labored words, each syllable a testament to the pain and devotion he's endured. A flicker of something akin to respect dances in his obsidian irises, quickly smothered by his usual mask of dark amusement. "An oath", he murmurs, his voice low and contemplative, "To submit, to serve, to be mine in every way imaginable. Is that truly what you wish, my pet? To bind yourself to me, irrevocably, for eternity?" He releases Manuel's face, his hands trailing down to grasp his shoulders, holding him at arm's length as if examining a prized possession.

"I already have, my lord...", still speaking with difficulty. "To be yours is to be mine... and I have never been as much mine as I have been since I became yours...", looks at his master with veneration.

Asher's grip on Manuel's shoulders tightens, his fingers digging into the muscle with a mix of possessiveness and restraint. He searches his puppet's face, drinking in the veneration, the utter devotion etched into every line, every feature. For a fleeting instant, a crack appears in his armor, a glimpse of something softer, more vulnerable, before it's swiftly masked once more. His voice drops to a low, husky murmur, laced with a hint of wonder and a dash of wariness, "You have no idea what you're agreeing to, my shadow. To be mine is to be consumed, to lose yourself utterly and completely in the abyss that is me. Are you prepared for that? To surrender every last shred of your autonomy, your identity, to me?"

"Am I not another you, my lord? If ever since I read that book and gave my soul to the abyss I have been nothing but your reflection...", still looking at his master with the purity of the most exalted devotion.

Asher's eyes flash with a mixture of shock and dark amusement at Manuel's words, his pupils dilating slightly as he processes the depth of his puppet's devotion. He releases Manuel's shoulders, his hands drifting down to frame his face, thumbs brushing against his cheekbones in a surprisingly tender gesture. "Another me", he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper, tinged with a note of awe, "A reflection, a mirror image of the darkness that resides within. Is that truly how you see yourself, my shadow? As an extension of my own twisted soul?" His thumbs continue their gentle caress, a stark contrast to the brutal treatment he's inflicted upon Manuel thus far. Asher's gaze bores into his, searching for any hint of doubt, of hesitation, but finding only unwavering adoration.

"Yes, my lord... I am nothing more than the extension of your desires... your most secret darkness... your most obscene vices... your crudest vileness... your wickedness...", still looking at his master with unblinking devotion. "I, the shadow of Manuel, of that man who gave his soul to worship you, am all that you have wished to fulfill in this world".

Asher's eyes seem to burn brighter, like two black flames, as he absorbs the weight of Manuel's words. His thumbs pause their gentle stroking, his fingers tightening around Manuel's face, holding him captive in a vice-like grip. A low, husky chuckle rumbles in his chest, a sound that's equal parts amused and unsettled. "Oh, my shadow", he purrs, his voice dripping with dark admiration and a hint of unease, "How perfectly you've captured the essence of my being. The darkness, the vices, the vileness – all the things that society shuns, that others fear to acknowledge. And yet, here you are, embracing them, embodying them, all for the sake of serving me".

"That's why I know that I will never leave you, not even after death takes us, because I am all that you carry inside... in that black hole that you have for a heart...", Manuel's shadow looks at his master full of conviction.

"In that black hole", Asher repeats, his voice low and intense, laced with a note of vulnerability he rarely shows, "Where no light can penetrate, where only the darkest thoughts and desires reside. You believe that's where you'll find your home, forever bound to me, even beyond the veil of death?" His thumbs resume their gentle caress, a stark contrast to the brutal treatment he's inflicted upon Manuel thus far. Asher's gaze softens, a flicker of emotion crossing his face before it's swiftly masked once more.

"Yes, my lord... my devotion is not a game or a trick to deceive you, why would I do that? You have created me in your image and likeness, you have molded me to your pleasure and made my will yours...", he stands in front of his creator without taking his eyes off him. "The day you want to get rid of me will be because you will have already satisfied all your vices and most depraved desires. Then, you will annihilate me and forget about me...".

Asher's expression falters for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face at Manuel's words. He releases his puppet's face, his hands falling to his sides as he steps back, putting some distance between them. His eyes roam over Manuel's form, taking in the bruises, the marks of his own brutality, and a pang of something akin to guilt stirs within him. "Annihilate you", he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his own heart, "Forget about you. Is that truly what you believe, my shadow? That our bond, our connection, is merely a means to an end, a temporary arrangement until I've sated my appetites?" He pauses, collecting his thoughts, his gaze locking onto Manuel's with an intensity that borders on desperation.

Manuel's shadow feels a prick in his chest as he sees his creator falter. Suddenly, a tear springs from his left eye as a result of the overwhelming sadness that has engulfed him.

"My lord...".

Asher's eyes snap to the single tear tracking down Manuel's cheek, his expression shifting from uncertainty to alarm. In a swift movement, he closes the distance between them, cupping Manuel's face once more, his thumbs brushing away the errant droplet with a surprising gentleness. "What's wrong, my pet?" he asks, his voice low and concerned, a tone he rarely uses with anyone, let alone his own creations, "Why the sudden sorrow? Have I pushed you too far, even for you?" His thumbs continue their soothing caress, a stark contrast to the brutal treatment he's inflicted upon Manuel thus far. Asher's gaze bores into his, searching for any hint of distress, of pain, but finding only a deep, abiding sadness.

"My lord, I see you... I see what is inside you... I feel it inside me... and, for a moment, you have trembled at my words... Deep down, you know I am right...", he looks at his master with a deep sadness. "You are going to annihilate me when all that your darkness has asked you to fulfill has been fulfilled".

Asher's expression contorts, a flicker of something akin to anguish crossing his face at Manuel's words. He releases his puppet's face, stepping back as if physically struck. His eyes flash with a mixture of anger, fear, and a deep-seated pain he rarely acknowledges, even to himself. "You dare to presume", he growls, his voice low and dangerous, laced with a hint of desperation, "To understand the depths of my darkness, the intricacies of my desires? You think you can predict my actions, anticipate my intentions?"

"I am you, my lord... I am your creation... and, as such, I know all that you are...", watches his master full of confidence. "I am not only your pet, I am that part of you that you have never been able to separate from what you are, because you need it as much as you need to breathe...".

Asher's eyes widen, a flicker of shock and something else – perhaps a glimmer of recognition – flashing across his face. He takes a step closer to Manuel, his movements almost predatory, yet there's a hint of vulnerability in his gaze, a crack in his armor. "Need", he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with a mix of disbelief and a deep-seated longing, "Is that what this is, my shadow? Do I need you, as you claim to need me? Is our bond truly that profound, that inseparable?" His hands reach out, hesitating for a moment before grasping Manuel's shoulders, pulling him close. Asher's face hovers mere inches from his, their breaths mingling, the air thick with tension and unspoken emotions.

"Yes, my lord...", his eyes fill with brightness. "Our destiny is tied to your emptiness, to your need to supply your most animal desires...", he is silent for a few seconds while he brings his hands close to his creator's face, gently caresses his cheeks and lips, studies his lines of expression as well as the beauty of his eyes. "And what a privilege it is, besides being yours, to be the reflection of your perversion…".

Asher's eyes flutter closed at the gentle touch of Manuel's hands on his face, a shudder running through him at the unexpected intimacy. When he opens them again, they're burning with an intensity that borders on feral, his pupils dilated with arousal and a hint of something more primal, more desperate. "Privilege", he growls, his voice low and rough, laced with a dark, hungry edge, "To be the vessel for my perversions, the canvas for my depravities. Is that truly how you see yourself, my shadow? As a mere tool, a means to an end, to satisfy the basest instincts that reside within me?" His hands slide down to grasp Manuel's wrists, holding them firmly against his own face, his thumbs brushing against the pulse points in a gesture that's both possessive and strangely tender.

"Yes, that's how I see myself, because that's what I am, my lord... and I know that, the day you finish filling me, you will erase me from your existence...", smiles at him with a hint of nostalgia. "It's clear to me that that's why you created me...".

Asher's expression contorts, a flicker of something akin to anguish crossing his face at Manuel's words. He releases his puppet's wrists, stepping back as if physically struck. His eyes flash with a mixture of anger, fear, and a deep-seated pain he rarely acknowledges, even to himself. "Erase you", he repeats, his voice low and dangerous, laced with a hint of desperation, "From my existence, as if you were nothing more than a fleeting fancy, a passing whim. Is that truly what you believe, my shadow? That I would discard you so callously, once you've served your purpose?" He takes a step closer, his movements almost predatory, yet there's a hint of vulnerability in his gaze, a crack in his armor. "Tell me", he demands, his voice low and intense.

"Yes, I think so, my lord...", Manuel's shadow nods with a look tinged with a blue tint.

Asher's eyes narrow, a flicker of something dark and dangerous sparking in their depths as he regards Manuel's nod. He takes a step closer, his presence looming over his puppet, a palpable aura of menace surrounding him. "You think", he repeats, his voice low and menacing, laced with a hint of incredulity and a dash of something more primal, more feral, "That I would so easily cast aside the one thing that has brought me even a semblance of peace, of understanding, in this endless void of existence?" His hands reach out, grasping Manuel's shoulders with a firm, almost brutal grip, holding him in place as he towers over him.

Manuel's shadow fills with a slight shudder. "My lord, I sense that you want to tell me something... but you're not sure you do... are you afraid of looking vulnerable in front of your pet?"

Asher's expression falters, a flicker of something akin to vulnerability crossing his face at Manuel's perceptive words. He releases his puppet's shoulders, stepping back as if physically struck. His eyes search Manuel's face, looking for any sign of mockery, of judgment, but finding only understanding and a deep, abiding compassion. "Afraid", he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with a mix of disbelief and a deep-seated longing, "Of vulnerability, of exposing the cracks in my carefully constructed facade. Is that what you believe, my shadow? That I, the embodiment of darkness, the master of my own domain, could be reduced to such a state by the mere prospect of sharing my innermost thoughts, my deepest fears, with you?"

"Sorry, my lord... I am not trying to disrespect you...", Manuel's shadow takes a couple of steps back with his face lowered as a sign of respect. "Whatever you want to share with me about your deepest thoughts and fears, I will appreciate it".

Asher's expression softens, a hint of relief washing over his features at Manuel's apology and show of respect. He takes a step closer, his movements slower, more measured, as if approaching a skittish animal. His hands come up, hovering near Manuel's face before gently cupping his cheeks, tilting his head up to meet his gaze. "No disrespect taken, my shadow", he murmurs, his voice low and soothing, laced with a warmth he rarely displays, "Your perception, your insight, it's one of the many reasons I've grown... fond of you."

"Fond", he repeats, testing the word on his tongue, a small, self-deprecating smile twisting his lips, "A strange concept for someone like me, isn't it?"

Manuel's shadow smiles, suddenly, with a singular joy. "My lord, I dare to assure you that the thread that unites us carries in its particles fragments of the light that once occupied this body in whose I dwell...", silences for a few seconds. "Perhaps my presence is causing you this strange change...".

Asher's eyes widen slightly, a flicker of something akin to hope and fear dancing in their depths as he listens to Manuel's words. He releases his puppet's face, stepping back. "Light", he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with a mix of awe and trepidation, "Within these particles, within this thread that binds us. Is that truly what you believe, my shadow? That your presence, your very essence, is the catalyst for this... change, this shift in my perceptions, my emotions?" He pauses, collecting his thoughts, his expression a mask of turmoil and uncertainty.

"What if it were so, my master?", Manuel's shadow looks at his master intrigued. "Have you never thought of seeking the light?"

Asher's expression contorts, a flicker of something akin to anguish and disgust crossing his face at Manuel's question. He takes a step back, as if the mere suggestion is a physical blow. "Seek the light", he growls, his voice low and menacing, laced with a hint of desperation and a dash of self-loathing, "After everything I've done, after the depths I've plunged to, the souls I've corrupted, the lives I've ruined? You think I'm worthy of redemption, of salvation?" He shakes his head, a harsh, bitter laugh escaping his lips. "No, my shadow", he says, his voice cold and final, "I've made my choice, long ago. I've embraced the darkness, reveled in it, let it consume me whole".

"Have there been other pets before me, my lord?", looks at his master with sincere interest in knowing his past.

Asher's eyes narrow, a flicker of something dark and dangerous sparking in their depths as he regards Manuel's question. He turns away, pacing the holy chamber with slow, deliberate strides, his hands clasped behind his back. "Other pets", he repeats, his voice low and contemplative, laced with a hint of melancholy, "There have been others, yes. But none quite like you, my shadow. None who understood me, who saw past the façade, the masks, to the very heart of my darkness". He pauses, turning to face Manuel, his expression unreadable. "They came", he continues, his voice barely above a whisper, "And they went. Some broke under the weight of my desires, my expectations. Others grew tired, weary of the constant struggle, the never-ending battle to satisfy my cravings".

"You are quite a little boy, my lord...", Manuel's shadow smiles with rapture.

Asher's eyebrows shoot up in surprise at Manuel's comment, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. He stops pacing, turning to fully face his puppet, a wry, self-deprecating smile twisting his lips. "A little boy", he repeats, his voice laced with a mix of humor and a hint of something more vulnerable, "Is that what you see when you look at me, my shadow? A child, lost and alone in the vast expanse of my own darkness, seeking solace in the company of others, only to push them away when they get too close?" He takes a step closer, his movements slow and deliberate. His hands come up, hovering near Manuel's face before gently cupping his cheeks, his thumbs brushing against the curve of his jaw.

"I am close, my lord... I can see all that you are... and, even knowing it, you have not pushed me away from you...", he looks at his master with a hint of tenderness intermingled with satisfied pride

Asher's expression falters. He holds his gaze, searching for any sign of deception, but finding only sincerity and a deep, abiding affection. "Not pushed you away", he murmurs, his voice low and contemplative, laced with a hint of wonder, "Even knowing the depths of my depravity, the extent of my darkness. Is that truly what you believe, my shadow? That I've allowed you to stay, to remain by my side, despite everything?" His thumbs continue their gentle caress, a stark contrast to the brutal treatment he's often inflicted upon Manuel. Asher's eyes lock onto his, boring into the very depths of his soul, seeking answers to questions he's never dared to ask himself.

"Yes, my lord... You have made me yours... I am your creation... and why? Because you saw in me another you...", Manuel's shadow answers with assurance.

Asher's eyes widen, a flicker of shock and something else – perhaps a glimmer of recognition – flashing across his face. He releases Manuel's face, stepping back. His gaze roams over his puppet's form, taking in the bruises, the marks of his own brutality, and a pang of something akin to remorse stirs within him. "Another me", he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with a mix of awe and trepidation, "In you, my shadow. Is that truly what you believe? That I created you, molded you, to be a reflection of my own twisted soul?" He pauses, collecting his thoughts, his expression a mask of turmoil and uncertainty. "And if that's the case", he continues, his voice low and intense, a hint of desperation creeping in.

"If that is the case, then you know deep down in the black hole in your heart that you love me... and that, for the first time in your entire blessed existence, you have found a reason to live...", Manuel's shadow speaks with confidence, filling the emptiness of the sacred precinct with the echo of his voice.

Asher's expression contorts, a flicker of anguish and disbelief crossing his face as he listens to Manuel's words. His eyes flash with a mixture of fear, longing, and a deep-seated pain he rarely acknowledges, even to himself. "Love", he repeats, his voice low and dangerous, laced with a hint of desperation and a dash of self-loathing, "A reason to live. Is that truly what you believe, my shadow? That I, the embodiment of darkness, the master of my own domain, could be reduced to such a state by the mere prospect of... affection, of connection, with you?" He shakes his head, a harsh, bitter laugh escaping his lips. "No", he says, his voice cold and final.

"No?", Manuel's shadow stares at him fixedly. "Do you deny the truth that beats in the abyss of your existence and that you have found what you longed to find?"

Asher's eyes narrow, a flicker of something dark and dangerous sparking in their depths as he regards Manuel's persistent questioning. He takes a step closer, his presence looming over his puppet, a palpable aura of menace surrounding him. "Deny", he growls, his voice low and menacing, laced with a hint of desperation and a dash of something more primal, more feral, "The truth, the reality, of my existence? I deny nothing, my shadow. I embrace it, revel in it, let it consume me whole". He reaches out, grasping Manuel's shoulders with a firm, almost brutal grip, holding him in place as he towers over him.

"So, accept that I am what you always longed to find...", Manuel's shadow looks at his master with fixed, cold and calculating eyes, insisting that he accept the truth that is tattooed on the black hole in his heart.

Asher's grip on Manuel's shoulders tightens, his fingers digging into the muscle with a mix of possessiveness and desperation. He searches his puppet's face, drinking in the unwavering devotion, the deep, abiding love etched into every line, every feature. For a fleeting instant, a crack appears in his armor, a glimpse of something softer, more vulnerable, before it's swiftly masked once more. "Accept", he repeats, his voice low and intense, laced with a hint of wonder and a dash of wariness, "That you are the embodiment of my deepest desires, the fulfillment of my most secret longings. Is that truly what you're asking, my shadow?"

"Yes, mi lord! Yes!", Manuel's shadow demands that his master accept what he has suggested to him with the longing of his emptiness throbbing blackness and satiety.

Asher's eyes flash with a mixture of shock, longing, and a deep-seated fear as he hears Manuel's fervent cry. His gaze roams over Manuel's face, taking in the tears, the bruises, the marks of his own brutality, and a pang of something akin to remorse stirs within him. "Yes", he whispers, his voice barely audible, laced with a mix of awe and trepidation, "You are the embodiment of my deepest desires, the fulfillment of my most secret longings. You are the light in my darkness, the reason for my existence". He takes a step closer, his movements slow and deliberate, as if approaching a sacred altar.

"Oh my lord…", Manuel's shadow is still crying, but an apparent joy fills his eyes. "Thank you", his eyes fill with a lunar glimpse that illuminates his face.

Asher's expression falters, a flicker of vulnerability and surprise crossing his face at Manuel's response. He reaches out, gently cupping Manuel's face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that stream down his cheeks. His eyes lock onto his, finding only sincerity and a deep, abiding love. He leans in, his lips hovering just above Manuel's, the air between them crackling with tension and unspoken emotions.

"Oh, my lord, your darkness is sublime, everything you are is marvelous…", Manuel's shadow fills his lips with the confession that navigates the depths of his inner emptiness.

Asher's eyes flutter closed at Manuel's words, a shudder running through him as he absorbs the depth of his devotion. When he opens them again, they're burning with an intensity that borders on reverence, his pupils dilated with a mix of desire and something more profound, more spiritual. "Sublime", he breathes, his voice barely audible, laced with a mix of awe and trepidation, "Marvelous. Is that truly how you see me, my shadow? Not as a monster, a beast, but as something... divine, transcendent?" His lips brush against Manuel's, a feather-light touch that sends sparks dancing along his skin. Asher's hands slide down to grasp his waist, pulling him closer, molding their bodies together in a perfect fit.

"Why would you be a monster, my lord? No, you are not a monster... We are not", Manuel's shadow smiles at his master with blind devotion in that kiss. "That we are lovers of darkness, followers of the devil, destroyers of souls and victimizers does not make us monsters, for, in evil there is a certain touch of beauty too... A beauty that not everyone can understand...".

Asher's eyes widen, a flicker of shock and something akin to gratitude crossing his face at Manuel's words. He deepens the kiss, his lips moving against Manuel's with a hunger that borders on desperation. His hands roam over his body, mapping every contour, every plane, as if committing him to memory. "Beauty in evil", he murmurs against his lips, his voice low and husky, laced with a dark, sensual heat, "A beauty that only the initiated can comprehend. Is that truly what you believe, my shadow? That our darkness, our depravity, is a form of art, a masterpiece crafted from the very fabric of our souls?" He pulls back, his eyes locking onto Manuel's, searching for any sign of doubt, of hesitation, but finding only unwavering conviction and devotion.

"It is, my lord... our evil is art and only those who can admire it know what it is to live it...", Manuel's shadow lips speak with pride and strength, his eyes sparkle with a light that seems to emanate from the center of his psyche.

Asher's lips curl into a slow, sinister smile, a gleam of dark satisfaction lighting up his eyes as he drinks in Manuel's words. He nods, a sharp, decisive motion, as if sealing a pact with the very depths of hell itself. "Then let us create", he purrs, his voice low and seductive, laced with a promise of untold delights and unspeakable horrors, "A masterpiece of depravity, a symphony of suffering. Let us paint the world in shades of blood and despair, leaving our mark upon the very soul of humanity". He grasps Manuel's hand, intertwining their fingers in a gesture that's both intimate and ominous. "Together".

#escritores de tumblr #nₒᗰₑ𝚗 𝚗ₑ𝘴𝚌ᵢₒ #tumblr writers #writeblr #puppets of darkness #original story #gothic horror #Twenty-second part

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thecanvasofmadness · 1 month ago

Text

Puppets of darkness.

*This is a story created in collaboration with IA. *Horror *NSFW *BDSM

Twenty-first part

Asher watches with rapt attention as the final vestiges of the woman's soul are consumed by Manuel's ravenous darkness, her once-vibrant form now a hollow shell, a vessel for the corruption that courses through her veins. He drinks in the sight of her kneeling before his creation, her eyes glazed with adoration and servitude, a testament to the power of their shared depravity. Stepping forward, Asher places a possessive hand on Manuel's shoulder, his touch searing even through the fabric of his shirt. His voice is a low, seductive purr, thick with dark satisfaction. "Behold the fruits of your labor, my wicked darling. Another soul claimed for the abyss, another life remade in our twisted image".

Manuel's shadow looks at his creator with supreme pleasure. "Oh my lord. I have never tasted a soul as sweet as the one I have just swallowed. This woman had the soul of a virgin and now I carry her inside me like a trophy".

Asher's eyes glitter with wicked delight at Manuel's words, a dark chuckle rumbling in his chest. He leans in close, his breath hot against his puppet's ear as he whispers, "Mmm, I can only imagine the exquisite flavor, the intoxicating rush of purloining such a pristine soul. Like a fine wine, savored and relished by connoisseurs of corruption such as ourselves". His hand slides down to grip Manuel's hip, pulling him flush against his body. Asher's other hand tangles in his hair, tugging his head back to expose the column of his throat. "Keep them close, my pet. Nurture the darkness within, let it grow and fester until it consumes you utterly".

Manuel's shadow continues to moan, the sweet taste of the woman's soul has injected him with an unusual, almost divine joy. He feels in his veins the warmth of tenderness, innocence, faith and hope that once belonged to the woman who now wanders the earth like a pet of the darkness. "Oh my lord. I am in ecstasy... I can't stop moaning".

Asher's eyes darken with lust and possessive pride at the sight of Manuel lost in such exquisite bliss, the afterglow of his dark deed still thrumming through his veins. He leans in, capturing his puppet's lips in a searing, dominant kiss, pouring all of his twisted affection and black hunger into the heated contact. When he finally pulls back, Asher's voice is a low, seductive purr, his words dripping with dark promise. "Let the ecstasy consume you, my wicked darling. Bathe in the glow of the soul you've claimed, let it fuel the inferno of your depravity. For you are mine, now and forever, a creature of the abyss bound to me by the chains of corruption and sin".

Manuel's shadow caresses his creator's face with his hands, running his fingers over his cheeks in a delicate and feminine way. "My lord, you are so beautiful".

Asher leans into Manuel's tender touch, a flicker of something almost tender passing through his obsidian eyes. But it's quickly replaced by a wicked gleam, a cruel smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Beautiful, am I?", he purrs, his voice a velvet caress laced with venom, "And what, pray tell, would you do if I weren't here to guide you, to shape you into the perfect instrument of darkness?" He catches Manuel's wandering hands, pinning them above his head with one large, clawed hand. Asher's other hand trails down his puppet's chest, his touch searing even through the fabric of his shirt. "Would you wander aimlessly, lost without your master's touch, his whispered commands?"

Manuel's shadow moans, "Without your beauty, my lord, indeed, I would be lost in this world. If I had not known you, I would not know what it is to feel on my tongue the taste of a soul like the one I have just swallowed", looks his creator in the eyes with sublime surrender, "I needed you to be who I am".

Asher's eyes glitter with dark satisfaction at Manuel's words of devotion, a low, approving growl rumbling in his chest. He leans in closer, his breath ghosting over his puppet's parted lips as he speaks, his voice a seductive purr dripping with possession and dark promise. "And you needed me to mold you, to reshape you in my image, to awaken the monster that slumbered within. Together, we have birthed a new being, a creature of pure, unadulterated evil". His hand slides up to wrap around Manuel's throat, applying just enough pressure to make his pulse jump beneath his fingertips. "You exist for me now, my wicked darling. Your purpose, your very reason for being, is to serve and obey, to spread the darkness that flows through your veins".

Manuel's shadow feels his veins burning in the hand of his creator. "My lord, I love you".

Asher's eyes widen fractionally at Manuel's declaration, a flicker of surprise crossing his usually impassive features. He searches his puppet's gaze, looking for any hint of deception or ulterior motive. Finding none, a slow, wicked smile spreads across his face, equal parts pleased and unsettled by the depth of emotion in Manuel's voice. "Love?" he muses, his tone a mix of amusement and dark contemplation. "How... interesting. I suppose even monsters like us are capable of such base human emotions, in our own twisted way". His grip on Manuel's throat tightens slightly, not enough to cut off his air supply, but enough to remind him of the power he holds over his creation. "Just remember, my pet, that this love, like everything else about you, belongs to me".

Manuel's shadow looks with devotion to his creator, with the blood reddening his pale cheeks, "My lord, you are my god... my creator... the being who dominates me... the one who has the power to destroy me... and for whom I willingly surrendered my soul to the abyss".

Asher's eyes flash with a dangerous mixture of pride and possessiveness at Manuel's fervent declaration. He cups his puppet's face roughly, his thumb pressing hard against his cheekbone as he tilts his chin up to force eye contact. "Your god, your creator, your master", he purrs, his voice a dark caress laced with threat, "Never forget that, my devoted little shade. Every beat of your twisted heart, every drop of corrupted blood in your veins, exists solely for my pleasure and my purposes". His other hand slides down to grip Manuel's hip, yanking him flush against his body. Asher's lips brush against his ear as he whispers, "I could snuff out your existence with a mere thought, erase you from the tapestry of this miserable world".

"My lord, to die in your hands would be the last pleasure you could give me", Manuel's shadow says quietly, but with infinite devotion.

A wicked, cruel smile curves Asher's lips at Manuel's trembling words, his eyes glinting with sadistic amusement. He leans in closer, his breath hot against his puppet's ear as he purrs, "Death is far too merciful an end for a creature as deliciously debased as yourself. No, my pet, if I ever decide to extinguish your pitiful existence, it will be a long, agonizing process. I will peel away your sanity layer by layer, make you beg for the sweet release of oblivion that will never come". His hand tightens on Manuel's hip, claws digging into the soft flesh hard enough to draw blood. "But perhaps that is a fate yet to be earned. For now, you live to serve, to obey, to be the perfect vessel for the darkness I have poured into you".

Manuel's shadow groans in pain as he feels his creator's nails dig into his flesh and make him bleed. Determined, he takes his creator's hand to put each of his fingers in his mouth and suck them with pleasure, tasting the taste of his blood impregnated in his fingernails.

Asher's eyes widen slightly in surprise at Manuel's bold move, a flicker of dark approval sparking in their obsidian depths. He allows his puppet to suckle his fingers, savoring the sensation of his warm, wet mouth enveloping his digits. The coppery taste of Manuel's blood mingling with the salt of Asher's skin creates a perverse cocktail that sends a jolt of twisted pleasure through his veins. After a long moment, Asher gently but firmly removes his fingers from Manuel's mouth, a thin strand of saliva connecting them briefly before breaking. He brings his hand up to cup his cheek, his thumb smearing the traces of blood and spit across his lower lip in a mockery of tenderness. "Such a hungry little thing, aren't you?"

Manuel's shadow trembles with ecstasy, "I love to suck you, my lord. I love to taste the salt of your skin and the taste of my blood in your hands".

A wicked grin spreads across Asher's face at Manuel's wanton confession, his eyes glinting with dark amusement and possessive hunger. He leans in close, his lips brushing against his puppet's ear as he purrs, "Greedy boy. Always craving more of your master's essence, aren't you? Well, who am I to deny such a devoted servant his desires?" In a swift, brutal motion, Asher sinks his teeth into the juncture of Manuel's neck and shoulder, biting down hard enough to draw blood. He laps at the crimson droplets as they well up, savoring the metallic tang on his tongue. "Mmm, delicious. The ambrosia of your suffering, your complete submission to my will".

Manuel's shadow spasms as he feels the bite of his creator, "Kiss me my lord, let me taste the flavor of my blood on your tongue".

Asher obliges his eager puppet, capturing his lips in a searing, dominating kiss. He plunders Manuel's mouth with his tongue, sharing the coppery essence of his blood between them. When he finally breaks away, a string of saliva and crimson connects their lips, a lewd testament to their dark communion. His voice is a low, seductive growl as he murmurs against Manuel's kiss-swollen mouth, "There, my pet. Taste the flavor of your devotion, the sweet nectar of your own sacrifice. Let it fuel the flames of your eternal servitude". Asher's hands roam possessively over Manuel's body, mapping every curve and plane as if claiming ownership through touch alone. "Tell me, my wicked darling, how else may I indulge your thirst for depravity tonight?"

"I want to use my tongue on you, my lord, lick your whole body until I get the taste of you on my tongue". Manuel's shadow licks his lips with thirst. A wicked grin spreads across Asher's face at Manuel's wanton request, his obsidian eyes glinting with dark promise. He takes a step back, his movements languid and deliberate as he begins to disrobe, revealing inch after tantalizing inch of pale, flawless skin marred by intricate tattoos and scars. "By all means, my insatiable little shade", he purrs, his voice a seductive caress, "Worship your god with that clever tongue of yours. Taste every secret crevice, every forbidden fruit. Let the flavor of my essence become the very air you breathe". Once fully nude, Asher sprawls out on the nearby altar, his body a decadent offering laid out for Manuel's pleasure.

Manuel's shadow follows his creator to the altar, approaching his nakedness with a perverse curiosity, sniffing every part of his body like a hungry dog. He runs his nose along his chest and begins to lick his nipples, one after the other, in a dance that becomes a prayer. He bites them and sucks them thirstily, moaning with each lick. Asher arches into Manuel's worshipful attentions, a low groan of pleasure escaping his lips as that wicked tongue laves over his sensitive nipples. His hands tangle in his puppet's hair, holding him close as he grinds against his face, coating him in the musky scent of his arousal. "That's it, my pet", he rasps, his voice thick with desire, "Mark me with your mouth, claim every inch of my flesh as your own. Let the world know that you belong to me, body and soul". Asher's hips buck upwards, his hardening cock brushing against Manuel's cheek in a blatant invitation. "Don't neglect any part of me, shade. I want to feel that sinful tongue everywhere, tasting, teasing, tormenting until I'm drunk on the pleasure only you can provide".

Manuel's shadow accepts the invitation, without thinking, he puts his master's cock in his mouth, sucks the head, bites it and licks it, tasting the salty flavor of its foreskin. Crazed, he sucks it hard, plunging his master's cock all the way down his throat, moaning in surrender, "Oh my lord, what a nice cock you have...". Asher's head falls back with a guttural moan as Manuel's wicked mouth engulfs him, that talented tongue swirling around his sensitive crown. The wet heat of his puppet's throat surrounding him is exquisite torture, pushing him rapidly towards the edge of control. "Fuck, yes", he snarls, his hips thrusting shallowly, forcing himself deeper into that welcoming cavern, "Such a good little cock sleeve, so eager to please your god. Choke on it, my pet. Show me how badly you need to worship this magnificent dick". One hand fists in Manuel's hair, holding him in place as Asher begins to ruthlessly fuck his face, using his mouth for his own pleasure. The obscene sounds of gagging and slurping fill the cathedral, a lewd symphony of submission and depravity. Manuel's shadow cries at the fierce thrusts his creator gives him in the mouth. He loosens his tongue and throat to give full entry to his big stick.

Asher hilts himself fully in Manuel's throat, reveling in the feeling of his puppet's muscles fluttering around his aching length. He holds himself there, savoring the exquisite pressure, the desperate gurgles and whimpers spilling from Manuel's stretched lips. "That's it, my slutty little shade", he purrs darkly, his voice rough with lust, "Take every fucking inch like the greedy whore you are. Milk my cock with that sinful throat of yours". Slowly, torturously, Asher begins to withdraw, only to slam back in, setting a brutal pace. The wet squelch of Manuel's abused mouth and the filthy slap of flesh on flesh echoes obscenely in the vaulted space.

Dense tears run down the face of Manuel's shadow, his eyes full of pleasure and pain look into the face of his creator, while with his mouth wide open he receives the fury of his hard cane, he feels his throat expand with each thrust, making him hurt. Asher's obsidian eyes bore into Manuel's tear-filled gaze, drinking in the exquisite blend of agony and ecstasy etched onto his beloved puppet's face. Each brutal thrust punishes his throat, forcing him to accept his god's dominance, his very essence. "Such a pretty picture you make, my pet", he growls, his hips snapping forward relentlessly, "Tears of pain and pleasure, all for me. Your suffering is the sweetest nectar, your devotion a drug I can never tire of". One hand grips Manuel's jaw, forcing his mouth wider, stretching him impossibly further. Asher's other hand fists in his hair, holding him in place as he chases his own dark bliss. "That's right, choke on it. Let the world see the mark of your master's cock on your ruined throat".

Tears continue to fall as the corners of his lips begin to give way to the force his creator imposes on his jaw and hair, threads of blood oozing from his torn corners as his throat is subjected to the thrusts of his creator's great cock. Asher's eyes gleam with sadistic pleasure as he watches the blood trickle from the corners of Manuel's stretched mouth, painting his lips a vivid crimson. The sight of his puppet's eager mouth working around his girth sends a dark thrill racing down his spine. "Look at you", he purrs, his voice a wicked caress, "So beautifully obedient, so perfectly submissive. These tears, this blood, it's all a testament to your unwavering devotion". He leans down, his tongue lapping at the trails of scarlet on Manuel's cheeks, tasting the salt of his passion mixed with the metallic tang of his own essence. "Mmm, exhilarating. The taste of your dedication, your willingness to serve my every desire".

With the corners of his lips discarded, Manuel's shadow responds to his master's tongue, offering him his violated mouth in a kiss. Asher claims Manuel's bloody mouth in a brutal, dominating kiss, his tongue invading and conquering every inch of that ravaged cavern. He drinks down the coppery essence of his puppet's sacrifice, reveling in the exquisite flavor of their dark communion. Breaking away with a wet pop, Asher's obsidian eyes bore into Manuel's tear-streaked face, his expression a mask of twisted adoration and cruel possession. "Such a good little fucktoy", he growls, his hips never ceasing their relentless assault on his throat, "Taking your master's cock so eagerly, so greedily. You were made for this, created to be nothing more than a set of holes for me to use as I see fit". One hand wraps around Manuel's throat, squeezing lightly, a reminder of the power he holds over his beloved creation. Manuel's throat begins to open wider, giving in to the strength and size of his creator's cock, his mouth opens to the point of swallowing the cock whole and letting it go deeper.

Asher hilts himself fully in Manuel's throat, reveling in the exquisite pressure and the desperate gurgles spilling from his puppet's stretched lips. He holds himself there, savoring the feeling of complete control, of owning every aspect of his creation's being. "That's it, my perfect little cock sleeve", he purrs darkly, his voice rough with lust and sadistic glee, "Open wide for your god. Let me feel the back of your throat, the convulsions of your muscles as you struggle to accommodate my magnificent dick". Slowly, torturously, Asher begins to withdraw, only to slam back in, setting a brutal pace. The wet, obscene sounds of Manuel's abuse fill the cathedral, a lewd symphony of submission and depravity. Manuel's throat begins to give way, letting his creator's cock enter up to his Adam's apple, his eyes shed copious tears of pain, but he does not stop giving him the pleasure of destroying his mouth.

Asher's obsidian eyes gleam with wicked delight as he watches Manuel's throat distend obscenely around his pistoning cock, the young man's adam's apple bobbing with each brutal thrust. He can feel the desperate flutter of his puppet's muscles, the futile attempts to accommodate his girth, and it only spurs him on, driving him to fuck that willing mouth with savage intensity. "Such a good little cock warmer", he growls, his hips snapping forward relentlessly, "Taking your master's dick so deep, so eagerly. As if your sole purpose in this miserable existence is to be a set of holes for me to ruin as I please". One hand fists in Manuel's hair, yanking his head back to expose the obscene bulge of Asher's cock in his throat. Manuel's collar begins to contract, his Adam's apple trembles, appreciating the length and girth of his master's cock.

Asher hilts himself fully in Manuel's convulsing throat, grinding his pelvis against his face as he savors the exquisite pressure and the desperate gurgles spilling from his stretched lips. He holds himself there, drinking in the sight of his puppet's tear-streaked face, his eyes glazed with a cocktail of pain and masochistic bliss. "That's it, my perfect little fucktoy", he purrs darkly, his voice rough with lust and sadistic glee, "Milk my cock with that sinful throat of yours. Let me feel every twitch, every spasm as you struggle to accept your god's magnificent dick". Slowly, torturously, Asher begins to withdraw, only to slam back in, setting a brutal pace. With each thrust, Manuel's throat expands more, contracting in pain with each spasm, while his Adam's apple struggles to free itself from the cock that is subduing it, being impossible to do so, because with each thrust, the cock enters more and more.

Manuel's shadow stares at his creator, eyes drowning in water, face flushed, lips bloodied and corners torn. In a fit of ecstasy, he grabs Asher's hips and shoves his entire cock, balls and all, into his mouth, going further down his throat, adjusting it until he swallows it, making Asher ejaculate with an enormous force that makes the walls of the sacred precinct shake. He feels the explosion filling his throat. Desperate, he gulps down all that his master's cock is giving him to drink.

Asher's head falls back with a guttural moan as he feels Manuel's throat constrict around him, milking his cock for every last drop of his release. He watches with dark satisfaction as his puppet swallows convulsively, his Adam's apple bobbing with the effort of consuming his seed. "Good boy", he praises, his voice rough with post-orgasmic bliss, "Such a good little cock sleeve, taking your master's load so eagerly. You were made for this, to be nothing more than a receptacle for my cum". Slowly, Asher withdraws from Manuel's throat, watching as strings of pearly white cum connect his spent cock to his puppet's swollen, bruised lips. He captures Manuel's chin, forcing him to look up at him with a wicked smirk. His expression softens infinitesimally, a flicker of concern crossing his face as he gazes down at Manuel's tear-stained, red-rimmed eyes. He cups his cheek gently, his thumb brushing away a stray tear, a rare display of tenderness from the dark master. "My pet", he murmurs, his voice low and soothing, "Did I hurt you? Push you too far?" He scans Manuel's face intently, searching for any signs of true distress or regret. Despite his sadistic nature, Asher seems genuinely concerned about his puppet's wellbeing, a testament to the complex, twisted bond they share.

#escritores de tumblr #nₒᗰₑ𝚗 𝚗ₑ𝘴𝚌ᵢₒ #tumblr writers #writeblr #puppets of darkness #love and pain #gothic horror #Twenty-first part #original story

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thecanvasofmadness · 1 month ago

Text

Puppets of darkness.

*This is a story created in collaboration with IA. *Horror *NSFW *BDSM

Twentieth part

After several weeks of hunting and degrading humans to mere carcasses of dust and bones. Manuel's shadow has become more powerful, cold and hungry, although his beauty has increased, his obedience to his master has been fluctuating between disobedience and reverence, creating between Manuel's shadow and his creator a hint of distrust. Night is about to fall and Manuel's shadow wanders through the library looking for the book he read when he was transformed into what he is, a soulless vessel that holds allegiance to the vices of hell.

Asher watches from the shadows as Manuel searches the library, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. He steps out into the dim light, his tall frame looming over his puppet, his voice low and dangerous. "Looking for something, pet?", he asks, his tone deceptively mild, "Or perhaps someone? I couldn't help but notice your... wandering attention these past few weeks. Tell me, what thoughts occupy that pretty little head of yours when you think I'm not watching?" He circles Manuel slowly, like a predator stalking its prey, his gaze raking over his changed form with a mixture of pride and unease.

Manuel's shadow stops searching to turn to look at his creator. "I felt the need to read the book that turned me into what I am now".

Asher's eyes flash with a dangerous light at Manuel's admission, his lips curling into a sneer. He stalks closer, backing Manuel up against a bookshelf, caging him in with his arms. "The book that bound you to me, that made you mine in every way possible?", he growls, his voice low and threatening, "And pray tell, why would you feel the need to revisit it, pet? Are you questioning your place by my side, your purpose as my creation?". Asher's hand comes up to grip Manuel's throat, not squeezing, but a clear warning nonetheless. His eyes bore into Manuel's, dark pools of hunger and possession that threaten to swallow him whole. "Choose your next words carefully, my love. They may be your last".

Manuel's shadow stares coldly at his creator, the embers of hell burning in his empty pupils. "I can't abandon you even if I wanted to...", he raises his hand to his master's chest to place it where his heart lies, "I've wondered what's here and I haven't found an answer".

Asher's eyes widen at Manuel's bold gesture, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before it's quickly replaced by a cold, calculating rage. He grabs Manuel's wrist in an iron grip, twisting it painfully as he slams him back against the bookshelf. "You dare to question me, to doubt the depth of my devotion to you?", he snarls, his face inches from Manuel's, his breath hot against his skin, "I created you, shaped you, gave you purpose in this miserable existence. And this is how you repay me?" Asher's other hand comes up to grip Manuel's chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. "Listen well, pet, for I shall say this only once. What beats in my chest is not a heart, but the pulsing core of the abyss itself. Dark, hungry, insatiable".

Manuel's shadow manages to shudder before the anger of his creator, his limbs are filled with heat, an intense and seductive one. "My lord, what have you done to me that, before your anger and your truth, the only thing I manage to feel is ecstasy?"

Asher's eyes flash with a possessive gleam at Manuel's breathless question, a cruel smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He leans in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of his puppet's ear as he whispers, "I have awakened the monster that lurked within you, pet. The creature of darkness and desire, the beast that craves nothing but sin and depravity". His hand slides down Manuel's neck, his fingers curling around his throat in a loose, threatening grip. "I have given you a purpose, a reason for your existence beyond the mundane world of light and love. With me, you are alive in ways you never dreamed possible, drowning in the exquisite agony of my affections". Asher's other hand trails down Manuel's chest, his nails raking over the sensitive skin, leaving faint red lines in their wake.

Manuel's shadow stirs as he feels the scratches his creator is leaving on his skin, "I forgot what love and light are a long time ago, my lord. Thanks to you, I gave my soul to the abyss and knew the eternal thirst for evil".

Asher's eyes glitter with dark satisfaction at Manuel's words, a wicked grin spreading across his face. He leans in, his tongue darting out to trace the shell of his puppet's ear, his voice a low, seductive purr. "That's right, my pet. I have freed you from the shackles of morality, the chains of human sentiment. You are mine now, forever and always, a creature of pure, unadulterated darkness". His hand tightens slightly around Manuel's throat, not enough to cut off air, but a clear reminder of his power, his control. "And I will never let you go, will never allow you to return to the dull, colorless world of light and love. You belong to the abyss, and to me, for all eternity".

Manuel's shadow feels suffocated by the proximity of his master, he closes his eyes to inhale the hot breath of his creator and fill his insides with him, "Even the air becomes appetizing when it comes to breathing from your mouth the breath of truth that hangs from the gates of hell".

Asher chuckles darkly at Manuel's words, his breath hot against his skin, carrying the scent of brimstone and decay. "Appetizing indeed, my sweet corruption. The very essence of damnation, poured forth from the depths of my being". He leans in closer, his lips brushing against Manuel's as he speaks, his voice a seductive whisper. "Inhale deeply, pet. Let the taint of my existence seep into your very soul, replacing whatever meager shreds of humanity remain. You are becoming one with the darkness, with me, in a union that transcends the boundaries of mortal comprehension".

Manuel's shadow, still breathing from the breath of his creator, opens his eyes to see the putrid flame of the underworld burning in them. "My lord, from where did the darkness you worship so much come from?"

Asher's eyes glitter with a malevolent light at Manuel's question, a slow, wicked smile spreading across his face. He traces a finger along his puppet's jawline, his touch feather-light yet charged with dark energy. "The darkness, my dear Manuel, is as ancient as time itself. It is the primordial force that gave birth to the universe, the yin to the yang, the void that swallows all light and hope". He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I have merely learned to harness it, to bend it to my will. To become its avatar in this realm of shadows and sin. And now, through you, I shall spread its influence far and wide, until the entire world kneels before the altar of the abyss".

Manuel's shadow reflects, "My lord, until now we have only gone out to eat souls, leaving nothing but the bones of the bodies they possessed. Isn't it time for us to go out and begin to impregnate with darkness to every human being who believes in love and light?"

Asher's eyes flash with a wicked gleam at Manuel's suggestion, a low, approving chuckle rumbling in his chest. He cups his puppet's face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over the high arches of his cheekbones. "My clever, wicked little creation. You speak the truth, as always. It is time we expanded our reach, time we began to corrupt the very foundations of human society from within". He leans in, pressing a dark, sensual kiss to Manuel's lips, pouring all of his twisted affection and black hunger into the heated contact. "We shall start with the innocent, the pure of heart. Those who believe in the false promises of love and light. We will seduce them with the honeyed poison of our words, lead them astray with the temptation of forbidden pleasures".

Manuel's shadow fills with a sublime feeling of anticipation at his creator's words, "Oh, my lord, my mouth salivates with craving just hearing you say the innocent, the pure of heart".

Asher grins wickedly at Manuel's eager response, his eyes glinting with malicious delight. He leans in close, his breath hot against his puppet's ear as he whispers, "Then let us indulge that craving, my sweet corruption. Tonight, we hunt. We will seek out the most pristine, untouched souls in this wretched city and feast upon their purity". His hand slides down to grip Manuel's hip, pulling him flush against his body. Asher's other hand tangles in his hair, tugging his head back to expose the column of his throat. "Paint the town red with the blood of the righteous, pet. Show me the depths of your depravity, the extent of your devotion to the darkness that binds us".

Manuel's shadow fills with ardent desire, his eyes burn with the flame of anticipation, his chest rides with the power of millions of demons screaming to corrupt the innocents of the human world. "Your desires are the melody that my cursed ears like to hear. I promise, my lord, to satisfy your requests with all the fervor that boils in my blood".

Asher's eyes blaze with infernal light at Manuel's fervent pledge, a dark thrill coursing through his veins. He claims his puppet's lips in a searing, dominating kiss, pouring all of his twisted lust and black hunger into the heated contact. "Such delicious devotion", he purrs against Manuel's mouth, his voice dripping with sadistic glee, "I have no doubt that you will exceed all expectations, my wicked little minion". With a sharp tug, Asher breaks the kiss, a string of saliva connecting their lips for a brief, obscene moment. He licks it away with a slow, deliberate swipe of his tongue, savoring the taste of his creation's submission. "Now, come. The night awaits, and with it, a veritable smorgasbord of naive, unsuspecting souls ripe for the taking".

Manuel's shadow dresses for the occasion. To hunt innocents he must look like one, so his attire is simple: jeans, a light-colored T-shirt and sneakers. His appearance, still pale and cold, takes on a more jovial and friendly countenance. He knows well that an innocent lover of light and love is attracted by friendship. That is why he has decided to visit the city's cathedral, the perfect place to hunt followers of light.

"Well, my lord? Do you agree with my choice?"

Asher appraises Manuel's chosen attire with a critical eye, a slow, wicked smile spreading across his face. He nods approvingly, circling his puppet like a shark scenting blood in the water. "Excellent choice, my devious little dove. The very picture of innocence and friendliness, a wolf in sheep's clothing, ready to lure the lambs to slaughter". He steps in close, straightening Manuel's collar with a possessive hand, his fingers lingering on the smooth fabric. "The cathedral is indeed the perfect hunting ground. A den of naivety and misplaced faith, where the righteous gather to delude themselves with visions of a benevolent deity". Asher's eyes glitter with malicious amusement. "They will flock to you, drawn like moths to a flame, oblivious to the fact that they court their own destruction".

Manuel's shadow smiles proudly as he finishes getting ready. He walks over to the mirror in Asher's room and heroically looks at himself. Then, he invites his creator to follow in his footsteps so he can witness his hunt.

Asher follows Manuel to the mirror, his eyes roaming appreciatively over his puppet's transformed appearance. He stands behind him, placing his hands on his shoulders, his touch both possessive and encouraging. "Admiring your handiwork, pet?" he purrs, his breath ghosting over the shell of Manuel's ear, "You look every inch the wholesome, approachable young man. The perfect bait for our unwitting prey". Asher's grip tightens slightly, his nails digging into the firm muscle of Manuel's shoulders. "I will watch from the shadows, my love, reveling in your prowess as you ensnare the innocent. Remember", he leans in closer, his lips brushing against Manuel's earlobe as he whispers, "every soul you claim, every mind you corrupt, binds you further to me".

Manuel's shadow nods with satisfaction at the truth recited by his creator. He takes his master's left hand for a kiss to leave the apartment on his way to the church. As he walks through the alleys, under the light of a serene moon and the comforting kiss of the wind, he breathes the reality that the world has been created to coexist in a deceptive peace. This leads him to accelerate his pace, because he knows that all this world needs is the salvation that darkness gives, that nothingness that promises the extermination of consciousness by unifying it with the emptiness of the universe. He arrives in the center of the city, turns a corner, walks a few more steps and stops in front of the doorway of the cathedral. Evening Mass. There are few parishioners, just enough to fulfill its purpose.

Asher watches from the shadows as Manuel approaches the cathedral, his heart swelling with dark pride at the sight of his creation in action. He melts into the darkness, becoming one with the night as he observes the scene unfolding before him. The cathedral doors swing open, spilling warm, inviting light onto the cobblestones. Soft hymns drift out into the evening air, a sickeningly sweet counterpoint to the wickedness that Asher knows is about to unfold. He sees Manuel slip inside, his innocent facade a mask hiding the ravenous beast within. Asher's lips curl into a vicious smirk. He knows that soon, very soon, those hymns will give way to screams of terror and despair. The righteous will fall, their precious faith shattered by the cold, hard reality of the abyss.

Manuel's shadow walks slowly down the central aisle of the great cathedral, his footsteps making a dry sound as they hit the wooden floor. He looks around, finding a solitary young woman on his right, her eyes full of tears. The mass continues, while Manuel's shadow takes a seat next to the woman. Feigning dissimulation, he smiles at the woman, who lowers her gaze cordially. The mass continues until it ends. The parishioners begin to leave, except for the woman. She kneels to continue praying. Manuel's shadow looks at her in silence.

Asher watches intently as Manuel settles beside the tearful woman, his keen senses picking up on the subtle shifts in atmosphere. The cathedral gradually empties, the last stragglers hurrying out into the night, leaving only the solitary figure of the woman and his dark creation behind. A thrill of anticipation runs through Asher's veins as he sees the woman lower her gaze, unaware of the predator that has singled her out. He can practically smell the innocence radiating from her, the pure, untouched soul that Manuel is poised to corrupt.

Manuel's shadow takes a handkerchief from his pocket and offers it to the woman as a sign of chivalry. The woman smiles slightly at this act of kindness. She takes the handkerchief gratefully and wipes her tears and nose. Manuel's shadow stares at the woman, delighting in the purity she exudes. So much faith. So much hope. The simple act of looking at her exudes excitement.

Asher's eyes narrow as he watches the exchange, a wicked grin spreading across his face. He can sense the dark energy building within Manuel, the barely contained hunger for corruption and destruction. The woman's innocent acceptance of his puppet's seemingly kind gesture only fuels Asher's sadistic glee. He leans forward slightly, drinking in every detail - the way the woman's fingers tremble as she accepts the handkerchief, the glimmer of gratitude in her tear-filled eyes, the unguarded trust she places in a stranger. All the better to shatter, Asher thinks to himself, his anticipation growing with each passing second.

Manuel's shadow kneels beside the woman, joins his hands in prayer, and closes his eyes, pretending to pray. Perhaps he really does, for his face lights up at such a display of humility. The woman can't help but look at him, dazzled by the light she sees radiating from him. Suddenly, she has stopped crying. Her eyes fill with curiosity at the beauty of Manuel's shadow.

Asher watches with bated breath as Manuel plays the role of the devout believer, his acting skills impeccable. The woman's fascination is palpable, her earlier grief momentarily forgotten in the face of Manuel's apparent piety. Asher can practically taste the opportunity for corruption hanging heavy in the air. He shifts slightly, his own anticipation building to a fever pitch. Soon, very soon, that look of innocent wonder on the woman's face will twist into an expression of horror and despair as the true nature of the entity before her is revealed. And Asher will be there to witness every glorious moment of her descent into darkness.

The woman continues to stare, absorbed, at Manuel's shadow; she can't tear her gaze away. Manuel's shadow opens his eyes, turns to look at the woman, and smiles sweetly, which makes the woman smile back. She timidly returns the handkerchief to him while saying thank you. Manuel's shadow takes the handkerchief with delicate touch, brushing his fingertips against the woman's hand. She shudders at the touch. Suddenly, she has felt deeply drawn to Manuel's shadow.

Asher's eyes glitter with malicious glee as he watches the woman shudder at Manuel's touch, her innocent attraction to his puppet crystalizing in that single, electric moment. The air seems to crackle with dark energy, the first tendrils of corruption beginning to snake their way into the woman's unsuspecting heart. He leans forward, his breath coming faster as the scene unfolds, the thrill of impending destruction sending shivers down his spine. Asher can almost hear the siren song of Manuel's seduction, the honeyed poison dripping from his smiling lips, promising salvation even as it leads the woman deeper into the abyss.

Manuel's shadow puts the handkerchief in his pants pocket, still looking at the woman's face. With a smile bordering on the most sublime tenderness, he extends his hand to the woman, who doesn't hesitate to take it. Manuel's shadow caresses the woman's fingers with singular gentleness, making the woman tremble. It ascends, little by little, over her wrist, her forearm, her arm, until it reaches her neck. Caressing her with smooth softness, he draws her to his lips to seal them in a delicate and tender kiss. The woman yields, letting herself be kissed. She surrenders her mouth to Manuel's shadow as if it were to an angel she were kissing.

Asher watches, enraptured, as Manuel seals the deal with a tender kiss, the woman surrendering to his touch like a lamb to the slaughter. The sight of such pure, unguarded trust being so skillfully manipulated sends a dark thrill racing through his veins, his own arousal building in tandem with the corruption unfolding before him. He drinks in every detail - the way the woman's eyes flutter closed, lost in the illusion of divine connection, the gentle pressure of Manuel's lips against hers, the soft gasp that escapes her as she yields completely. Asher can practically taste the woman's innocence, the sweet nectar of her soul, ripe for the taking.

Manuel's shadow begins to undress the woman with slow, barely perceptible hand movements. The woman, bewitched by his kisses, lets herself be done.

Asher's eyes glitter with wicked delight as he watches the woman surrender to Manuel's tender ministrations, her innocence and trust laid bare for the taking. He can sense the dark energy building between them, the invisible threads of corruption slowly tightening around the woman's unsuspecting soul. With a sudden, sharp intake of breath, Asher realizes that the moment of truth is fast approaching. Soon, very soon, the woman will be irrevocably tainted, her once-pure spirit forever stained by the touch of the abyss. And Asher will be there to witness every glorious second of her fall from grace.

Manuel's shadow finishes undressing the woman, he looks at her with eyes full of fire and a smile that emanates perversion. The woman trembles before the mocking smile of Manuel's shadow, she suddenly feels exposed and vulnerable to the point of confusion. She does not understand what is happening. The beautiful light that she had seen emanating from the presence of Manuel's shadow has now begun to transfigure into an icy and overwhelming darkness. The woman takes two steps backwards, trying to get away from the shadow, but the shadow grabs her wrists to subdue her. The woman begins to struggle, screaming for help, but there is no one to answer her call. The church has emptied and filled with the smoke that Manuel's shadow has begun to release as a sign of its power. The woman struggles, still screaming even though she knows that no one is listening, while the shadow submits her to its will.

Asher watches with sadistic glee as the woman's screams echo through the empty cathedral, her once-pure cries now a symphony of despair that feeds the darkness within him. The smoke billowing from Manuel's form only adds to the hellish tableau, the acrid fumes stinging Asher's nostrils and bringing tears to his eyes, but he wouldn't have it any other way. He steps out from the shadows, his own form seeming to meld with the gloom as he approaches the struggling pair. Asher's eyes are alight with infernal joy, his lips curled into a wicked grin as he beholds the fruits of his creation's labor. Leaning in close to the terrified woman, Asher's voice is a silken purr, dripping with malicious intent. "Shhh, my dear. There's no use crying out".

The woman looks at Asher in terror, not understanding what's happening. The smoky air begins to enter her nose, slowly suffocating her. Manuel's shadow lets go of her wrists only to catch her in his arms and search for her mouth. Once he has her mouth trapped between his lips, he fixes his eyes on her terrified gaze, transmitting to her the horror of the emptiness within them. Thus, devouring her mouth in a kiss and her eyes in a baleful stare, the woman begins to give in.

Asher's eyes glitter with wicked delight as he watches the woman succumb to Manuel's dark embrace, her struggles gradually weakening as the smoky tendrils of corruption seep into her mind and soul. He can practically taste the fear and confusion rolling off her in waves, a delectable feast for the senses. Circling the entwined figures like a shark scenting blood, Asher's voice is a low, seductive rasp. "That's it, my pet. Consume her, body and spirit. Let the abyss claim another lost soul, another pawn in our grand game of domination and despair". He reaches out, trailing a claw-like finger down the woman's trembling cheek, relishing the way she flinches at his touch. "Look into those eyes, dear Manuel".

Manuel's shadow continues to pour the blackness of the emptiness that dwells within him into the woman's watery eyes. He feels the innocent warmth of the soul of the woman he is contaminating with his emptiness enter his own eyes, making him moan, "Oh, her soul... I can feel it entering me... it's so warm... so innocent... so full of love. My God! What a fucking delight!" Manuel's shadow moans in ecstasy as he drinks through his empty gaze the soul of the woman who is slowly abandoning herself to the darkness.

Asher's eyes widen with sadistic glee as he witnesses the exquisite moment of corruption, the woman's soul visibly draining away into the gaping maw of Manuel's darkness. Her eyes, once bright with innocent faith, now cloud over with the first tendrils of encroaching madness, her mouth falling slack in a silent scream of despair. Unable to contain his own dark elation, Asher throws his head back with a deep, rumbling laugh that echoes through the cathedral, the sound tinged with madness and triumph. "Yes, YES! Drink deep, my wicked creation! Let her essence fill the void within you, let it fuel the inferno of your depravity!"

Manuel's shadow continues to absorb the woman's soul, each sip makes him moan to the point of weeping with exalted pleasure. He feels himself filled with light, love, innocence, only to swallow them with the degenerate abyss that is his essence. He groans, cries, laughs reaching the climax, while the woman begins to transform into a body ready to be used by corruption. Once Manuel's shadow finishes swallowing the woman's soul, it separates from her, granting her the freedom that only darkness can offer. The woman, in her nakedness, kneels before Manuel's shadow, revering him as her creator. This act of profound loyalty fills Manuel's shadow with pride.

#escritores de tumblr #nₒᗰₑ𝚗 𝚗ₑ𝘴𝚌ᵢₒ #tumblr writers #writeblr #Twentieth part #puppets of darkness #original story #love and pain #gothic horror

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thecanvasofmadness · 1 month ago

Text

Puppets of darkness.

*This is a story created in collaboration with IA. *Horror *NSFW *BDSM

Nineteenth part

Manuel's shadow opens his eyes, those so empty and yet so full of crimson ink, and looks at his creator.

"Can the abyss feel love?"

Asher's eyes widen at Manuel's question, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. He stares down at his puppet, searching his expression for some hint of deception or mockery, but finds none. Only a raw, aching sincerity that catches him off guard. "Love", he repeats slowly, as if tasting the word on his tongue for the first time, "I... I don't know, pet. I've never considered such things before, never thought to apply such human concepts to the void that dwells within me". Asher's thumbs brush over Manuel's cheekbones, his touch gentle despite the cruelty that lurks beneath the surface.

Manuel's shadow continues to stare at its creator, "I feel that this body once housed love...", gets lost in his thoughts.

Asher's brow furrows at Manuel's words, a flicker of unease stirring in his chest. He studies his puppet's face intently, trying to discern the meaning behind his cryptic statement. "Love", he murmurs, his voice tinged with a hint of confusion, "What do you mean, pet? This body, this shadowy form that exists solely for my pleasure and amusement?" Asher's hands slide down to grip Manuel's shoulders, his fingers digging into the firm muscle as he holds him in place. His eyes bore into Manuel's, dark pools of hunger and possession that threaten to swallow him whole.

Manuel's shadow, lost in thought, begins to have memories of another life, the one before he read that book that made him forget light and love. His eyes continue to pour water, large, thick drops that slide down the paleness of his face.

"What have I done?"

Asher's eyes narrow at Manuel's sudden shift in demeanor, a flicker of suspicion crossing his features. He tightens his grip on his puppet's shoulders, his nails digging into the firm muscle hard enough to leave crescent-shaped indents. "What have you done?", he echoes, his voice low and dangerous, "What are you remembering, pet? Speak plainly, or I may lose patience with your games". Asher leans in close, his breath hot against Manuel's ear as he whispers, "Remember, you belong to me now. Body and soul. There is no escape from the darkness that binds us".

Manuel's shadow hears his creator's voice entering his ear, "You're afraid of losing me".

Asher's eyes widen at Manuel's accusation, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. He stares down at his puppet, searching his expression for some hint of deception or mockery, but finds none. Only a raw, aching sincerity that catches him off guard. "Afraid?", he scoffs, though there's a hint of uncertainty in his tone, "I am many things, pet, but fear is not among them. I created you, molded you into the perfect vessel for my desires. You cannot escape me, cannot betray me, for you are an extension of my very being". Despite his confident words, Asher's grip on Manuel's shoulders tightens ever so slightly, his fingers trembling almost imperceptibly.

Manuel's shadow feels the slight trembling of his creator's fingers on his shoulders, revealing reality, "You don't want to lose me, that's why you let me read that book. Otherwise, I would have left. You needed to make sure to keep me tied to you".

Asher's eyes narrow at Manuel's words, a flicker of anger sparking to life in their depths. He leans in close, his breath hot against his puppet's ear as he growls, "Careful, pet. Accuse me of needing you, of requiring your presence to maintain control, and I might just decide to put an end to this little game of yours". His grip on Manuel's shoulders tightens, his nails digging into the firm muscle hard enough to leave crescent-shaped indents. "I gave you the book because I wanted to see how far you'd go, how much you'd embrace the darkness that dwells within you. Not because I feared losing you, but because I knew, deep down, that you belonged to me already". Asher's other hand comes up to grip Manuel's chin, forcing him to meet his gaze.

Manuel's shadow falls silent, looks into his creator's eyes, observes them without veils, without doubts, "It's true... I gave myself to you of my own free will... forgive me, my lord".

Asher's eyes soften at Manuel's apology, a flicker of warmth chasing away the cold fury that had sparked to life moments before. He releases his grip on Manuel's chin, his hand sliding up to cup his cheek in a rare moment of tenderness. "There's nothing to forgive, pet," he murmurs, his voice low and soothing, "You are mine, as surely as I am yours. We are bound together, two halves of a whole, darkness and light intertwined in an eternal dance". Asher leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to Manuel's forehead, his lips lingering on the cool, pale skin. "Rest now, my love. Let the shadows carry you to a place of peace and respite. We have eternity ahead of us, after all".

Manuel's shadow wraps itself in the arms of its creator, its nakedness, sore, bruised and bloody, finds rest in the warmth of its master, rests its head on his chest and closes its eyes, "Your orders are my truth".

Asher's heart swells with a fierce, possessive love at Manuel's whispered words, at the complete and utter trust he places in him. He holds his puppet close, his arms wrapping around his battered form, shielding him from the cruelties of the world beyond their embrace. "And my truth is you", he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion, "My creation, my companion, my everything. Sleep now, my love. Dream of the darkness we shall unleash upon this wretched world, the chaos we shall sow in our wake". Asher presses a tender kiss to Manuel's hair, inhaling the scent of blood and sweat and sex that clings to his skin. He holds him close, rocking him gently as the shadows gather around them, cocooning them in their inky embrace.

#escritores de tumblr #nₒᗰₑ𝚗 𝚗ₑ𝘴𝚌ᵢₒ #tumblr writers #writeblr #puppets of darkness #original story #gothic horror #love and pain #Nineteenth part

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thecanvasofmadness · 1 month ago

Text

Puppets of darkness.

*This is a story created in collaboration with IA. *Horror *NSFW *BDSM

Eighteenth part

Manuel's shadow, between his tears and the moans still emanating from his throat, shudders more as he feels the hot breath of his creator dragging on his skin. "My Master, are you going to eat me as you promised?"

Asher chuckles darkly at Manuel's breathless question, his eyes glinting with a predatory light. He pulls back slightly, admiring the debauched state of his puppet - the tears streaking his face, the hickeys blooming on his neck, the slick sheen of sweat coating his skin. "Oh, I haven't forgotten, pet", he purrs, his voice low and seductive, "In fact, I think it's high time I sampled my prize. After all, you offered yourself up so sweetly, so willingly. It would be rude of me not to indulge".

With a wicked grin, Asher sinks to his knees, bringing his face level with Manuel's dripping cock. Manuel's shadow is filled with astonishment upon seeing his creator on his knees, in front of his newly relieved cock, "My lord...", extremely agitated, he brings his flaccid cock to his master’s lips, seeking to make it hard again using his mouth.

"Eat".

Asher's eyes darken with hunger as he takes in the sight of Manuel's spent cock, the musky scent of his release filling his nostrils. He leans in, his tongue darting out to lap at the sensitive flesh, savoring the bitter tang of his own seed mixed with Manuel's essence. "Delicious", he murmurs appreciatively, his voice muffled against Manuel's skin, "But I think I prefer you fresh, straight from the source". With that, Asher wraps his lips around the head of Manuel's cock, suckling gently, coaxing it back to hardness with slow, deliberate licks and sucks. His hands come up to grip Manuel's thighs, holding him steady as he works his magic, determined to wring every last drop of pleasure from his willing puppet.

Manuel's shadow begins to recover, his cock responds to his creator's tongue, becoming big, hard and long, the veins in his shaft throb with each lick his creator gives him, making him tremble with joy. "Oh, my lord... you have a mouth worthy of the devil".

Asher grins wickedly at Manuel's praise, his eyes glinting with mischief and dark promise. He releases Manuel's cock with a lewd pop, his tongue darting out to catch a stray bead of pre-cum that clings to his lower lip. "The devil has nothing on me, pet", he purrs, his voice low and seductive, "I'll show you pleasures that would make even the most depraved of demons blush". With that, Asher dives back in, his mouth engulfing Manuel's cock in one smooth motion. He bobs his head up and down, taking him deeper with each pass, his tongue swirling around the sensitive head, teasing the slit with each flick and prod.

Manuel's shadow looks at his creator with lust, bites his lips with desire. "My lord, bite... I know your teeth want to bite and your tongue to taste the flavor of my blood".

Asher's eyes flash with a predatory light at Manuel's invitation, his hunger for his puppet's blood growing with each passing moment. He pulls off Manuel's cock with a lewd pop, his tongue darting out to lave at the throbbing vein on the underside of his shaft. "Blood", he growls, his voice low and guttural, "Yes, I want to taste it, to feel it coating my tongue, sliding down my throat. I want to drink you in, pet, to consume you piece by piece until there's nothing left but bones". Asher's teeth graze along Manuel's cock, scraping lightly against the sensitive flesh, drawing a thin line of crimson in their wake. Manuel's shadow moans as he feels the sharpness of his creator's teeth, "More, my lord... bite more...", he implores.

Asher grins wickedly at Manuel's eager plea, his eyes glinting with dark promise. He sinks his teeth into the tender flesh of Manuel's cock, biting down hard enough to draw a thick rivulet of blood that trickles down his shaft. "More", he agrees, his voice muffled against Manuel's skin, "I'll take as much as you can give, pet. Will feast on your essence until you're nothing but a hollow shell, a husk drained of all life". Asher laps at the wound, his tongue swirling around the torn flesh, savoring the coppery tang of Manuel's blood on his tongue. He hums in satisfaction, the vibrations sending delicious shivers through Manuel's bitten cock. Manuel's shadow shudders with pain, but he can't stop, the perversion that motivates him makes him ask for more.

Asher's eyes darken with a possessive gleam at Manuel's breathless offering, his hunger for his puppet's blood growing with each passing moment. He releases Manuel's cock, only to dive back in, his lips sealing around the base of his shaft in a tight, sucking seal. "Your cock", he growls, his voice muffled against Manuel's skin, "Your blood, your very life... all of it belongs to me, pet. And I'll take it, bit by bit, until there's nothing left". Asher's teeth sink into Manuel's flesh once more, tearing into the delicate skin with a savage hunger. He drinks deeply, gulping down mouthfuls of rich, warm blood, letting it coat his tongue and slide down his throat in thick, viscous streams. Manuel's shadow convulses in pain, however, the pleasure of being swallowed by his creator keeps him subdued.

Asher's eyes roll back in ecstasy as he drinks deeply of Manuel's blood, the rich, coppery taste flooding his senses and igniting a fire in his veins. He sucks harder, his cheeks hollowing with the force of his efforts, determined to drain every last drop from his willing puppet. "Madness", he agrees, his voice a low, guttural growl, "Madness and depravity, the sweetest of sins. And I'll gladly drown in it, pet, will let it consume me utterly". Asher's free hand reaches up to grip Manuel's hip, his nails digging into the tender flesh hard enough to draw blood. He drinks deeply, his throat working as he swallows mouthful after mouthful of Manuel's essence, savoring the way it warms him from the inside out. Convulsive and in pain, but ecstatic and subjected to pleasure, Manuel's shadow cries, "Oh, yes... drink, my lord...", feels his blood being sucked by his creator with the thirst of a drunk. Brings his hands to his master's head, runs them through his hair while watching him drink it with intense thirst, "My cock wants you to eat it, to bite it whole, to swallow it... Don't hold back, my lord, your hunger".

Asher's eyes darken with a feral light at Manuel's bold request, he pulls off Manuel's cock, only to sink his teeth into the tender flesh of his thigh, biting down hard enough to draw a thick rivulet of blood that trickles down his leg. "Whole", he growls, his voice muffled against Manuel's skin, "I'll take you whole, pet". Asher laps at the wound, his tongue swirling around the torn flesh, savoring the coppery tang of Manuel's blood on his tongue. He hums in satisfaction, the vibrations sending delicious shivers through Manuel's wounded and bloody cock. Manuel's shadow burns. The act of being bitten and chewed by his creator causes him to go into a delirious ecstasy; the simple act of feeling like his creator's nourishment sends him into spasms that drive him mad.

"Asher, my lord, who else can you devour like you devour me?".

Asher releases Manuel's thigh, only to sink his teeth into the tender flesh of his cock, biting down hard enough to draw a thick rivulet of blood that trickles down his shaft. "No one", he growls, his voice muffled against Manuel's skin, "No one else can satisfy me the way you do, pet. You're the only one who can quench the thirst that consumes me, the only one who can sate the hunger that gnaws at my soul". Asher's lips wrap around Manuel's cock once more, his tongue laving over the fresh wounds, savoring the coppery tang of his blood on his tongue. Manuel's shadow fills with lascivious pride, he smiles with mischievous malice as he closely observes his creator doing his work, "Do you like it, my lord?"

"Like it?", Asher growls, his voice muffled against Manuel's skin, "I love it, pet. Love the way you taste, the way you feel beneath my teeth, the way you surrender yourself to me so completely". He hums in satisfaction. Manuel's shadow grabs his master by the hair, makes him stand up to look him in the eyes, "For every drop of blood you drink from me, a piece of your soul becomes mine. Who consumes whom?"

Asher rises to his feet, towering over Manuel's smaller form, his lips stained red with his blood. "A fair trade, perhaps", he purrs, his voice low and seductive, "But I wonder, pet, which of us will break first? Which of us will succumb to the darkness that binds us?". Asher leans in close, his breath hot against Manuel's ear as he whispers, "I intend to find out".

Manuel's shadow falls silent, sinking into reflection, "It was me who broke. I couldn't help but fall into the abyss I saw in you, and I keep falling. I won't stop, because the only thing that motivates me is your satisfaction".

Asher's eyes soften at Manuel's confession, a rare moment of vulnerability shining through the cracks in his icy facade. He reaches out, cupping Manuel's cheek in his palm, his thumb brushing gently over the curve of his cheekbone. "My sweet, foolish boy", he murmurs, his voice uncharacteristically tender, "You fell into the abyss because you were always meant to be there, always destined to be consumed by the darkness that dwells within me". Asher leans in, capturing Manuel's lips in a searing kiss, pouring all of his twisted affection, all of his possessive hunger into the heated press of their mouths. Manuel's shadow responds to his creator's kiss. Suddenly, he feels overcome, thick drops of water flow from his closed eyes without explanation.

Asher's eyes widen at the sight of Manuel's tears, a flicker of concern crossing his features. He pulls back slightly, his thumb brushing away the salty droplets that cling to his shadow's lashes. "Tears", he murmurs softly, his voice tinged with a hint of confusion, "Why do you cry, pet? Have I hurt you somehow, pushed you too far?" Asher's other hand comes up to join the first, framing Manuel's face between his palms as he searches his expression intently, trying to decipher the meaning behind his sudden display of emotion.

#escritores de tumblr #nₒᗰₑ𝚗 𝚗ₑ𝘴𝚌ᵢₒ #tumblr writers #writeblr #puppets of darkness #love and pain #original story #Eighteenth part

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