There was no better spot in the house, Ryka was convinced. By virtue of the fact that it was the largest, most open space, the living room was where he spent most of his time when out. He could almost fully stretch his wings there, it was where the TV lived, and the fridge was close by. All good things. But that all took second place to the full-length mirror hanging on one of the walls.

It had been there before he’d arrived - Kyle used it to check his outfit before leaving for work everyday. And he’d probably done the same before stepping out for dates. But Ryka pushed that thought aside. There would be no more of those. Unless one counted their current Friday night activity. Ryka did.

On his knees in front of the mirror, one hand braced against the wall for support, he leaned in close to the glass, imagining it was Kyle he was watching, not his own reflection. Through half-closed eyes, it wasn’t much of a stretch. Not with the glass almost completely fogged.

With a low moan, he tightened his grip and fucked harder into his fist. His hot breath, exhaled in gasps in perfect sync with each stroke, had clouded up the glass. What his rapidly rising body temperature had started, his blissful panting had nearly finished. It made it easier to fantasize, even when it was still all too easy to see his own glowing eyes behind a curtain of hair.

“Master ….”

Why are you calling out for me?

“Why do you think?” Ryka managed, hand and hips working together to bring him closer to the edge. Kyle’s voice always helped, even when he was asking foolish questions.

But ….

“What?”

I’m not doing anything.

“Oh, you’re doing plenty,” Ryka assured him. He thought Kyle should be flattered that his existence was enough to get Ryka off. Kyle thought he should at least be earning those enticing sighs.

Engrossed as he was in his current task, he still leveled an intense stare at his own reflection. With absolutely no sense of self-consciousness, Ryka watched himself, all for Kyle’s benefit. And Kyle couldn’t deny enjoying the show. Smirking, the demon looked down, giving Kyle the view he’d secretly been waiting for: Ryka’s hand working his dripping cock. The slick length pumping through his fist, swollen head leaking an almost constant stream of precum.

Demons, Ryka had once explained, were built for sex. He supplied his own lube - almost to excess - dripping almost from the moment he got hard. For his host’s enjoyment, Ryka dropped his gaze lower still, to the wet trails glistening on the insides of his thighs. Though he carefully avoided lingering there too long. No need for Kyle to notice the mess under him on the carpet.

Thanks to Ryka’s fine-tuned hearing, Kyle could hear the soft “plips” of more precum dripping to the floor every time the demon shuddered and moaned his way through another precursor to orgasm. Kyle thought a tarp might have been in order. Or that he shouldn’t have been so stupid as to have had carpet installed again.

The thought evaporated when Ryka moved his focus back to his cock. His had been there the whole time, but Kyle needed a reminder. And a distraction.

Even in his current state, Ryka was aware of Kyle’s every minute reaction. And Kyle was enthralled now, unconsciously fighting Ryka for control just so he wouldn’t have to look away. Overcoming the urge to close his eyes, Ryka watched as another bead of precum welled up before he thumbed it down his shaft.

Since his host was so interested, Ryka picked up his tempo, pushing his hips harder into his tightening hand and purring when Kyle was unable to hide a quiet Oh. Easy enough for him to imagine what state Kyle might be in when Ryka retreated later. Hard and horny, begging for Ryka’s touch.

With a sudden sharp hiss, Ryka fell forward, his hand slipping onto the mirror. The glass started to bow under it, and he made the mistake of checking to make sure it wasn’t on the verge of cracking. This wasn’t the original mirror - several had fallen victim to Ryka’s wings over the years.

Kyle, of course, noticed, and very suddenly forgot to be aroused. So help me, if you break this one, too, you’re getting a job and paying for a replacement.

Ryka was unfazed, replying, “Ooh, talk dirty to me, stud; tell me how you’ll punish me” and leaving Kyle to wonder why he even bothered.

Kyle caught a brief glimpse of the ceiling before the world went dark - Ryka tipping his head back and closing his eyes. Close, dear? What had started as his smartass rejoinder to only being called “stud” or “master” had somehow stuck, and it was with genuine affection that Kyle now used the moniker. It even earned him a trill, Ryka’s purr jumping nearly an octave before settling back at its usual, deeper register.

“Mm. Very.”

You know, maybe if you loosened your tail up a little ….

That brought Ryka’s gaze back to his reflection to admire his handiwork. It had taken only minimal guidance to get some of his tail wound tightly around his balls and the base of his cock. The last eight or so inches – including the barbed tip - he was using to fuck himself. Kyle had certainly appreciated that view earlier, Ryka’s ass to the mirror as he spread himself, nudging his tail inside and sighing the whole way.

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At least Kyle could rest easy knowing that he wouldn’t be hurting for this later. Although the tip of Ryka’s tail very much resembled the barbed end of a fishhook, it was far from sharp. One of the few things on the demon that wasn’t. And it was rather impressive how dexterous it was. Built-in bondage, Kyle mused.

But it wasn’t enough. “I want more,” Ryka grumbled.

It’s in the bedroom if you want it.

Weeks earlier, Kyle finally caved and bought a dildo, but the bedroom was inconvenient. Though his hole was hungry for girth, he’d take what he could without having to get up and squeeze himself through a doorway twice.

Besides, it wasn’t really what he wanted. That, he couldn’t have. Not like this. Because what he truly desired was Kyle. He wanted to swallow him, let Kyle spill down his throat. Hair-pulling, choking - he’d let Kyle do anything. Mostly, he wanted to be fucked, pummeled with his Master’s massive cock until he was boneless.

And he most definitely wanted to ravish Kyle. Bend him over and feel Kyle tight around his dick. With a sigh bordering on annoyed, he tightened his grip further. Hands weren’t good enough. A sandwich bag of lube between the mattress and box spring - a trick Kyle had generously shared with him, even going so far as to demonstrate - wasn’t enough. Not even when Ryka had leaned his full weight on the bed. An expert in torture, he never thought he’d be on the receiving end quite like this. So close to what he wanted, and completely unable to have it.

This wasn’t time to wallow, though. So he fought back a whimper and responded to Kyle, before his host could worry.

“Not now. Want me to turn around, though?” Ryka offered, probing just a little deeper. He flicked his tail and quivered as he found that sweet spot. With some effort, he pushed himself upright, clasping his hands around his cock and squeezing, fucking harder between his palms. Now his tail was twitching involuntarily, still hitting that spot, sending waves of electric ecstasy from his scalp to his toes.

Stay wherever feels good, dear.

“Mm.”

Look at me, though, if you can.

It was getting more and more difficult to keep his eyes open, but Ryka managed. His hair was falling down over his flushed face and his chest was heaving. Kyle only had time to briefly appreciate his tantalizingly erect nipples before Ryka’s head tipped back again.

“Oh, fuck.” His wings, which had gone limp half an hour earlier, flared open, putting another dent in the plaster before snapping closed, trembling. Through gritted teeth, he let out a long, low growl. It had been startling at first, Kyle recalled, how furious Ryka could sound in his pleasure. Already, the sound was getting louder. He really was close.

Maybe you could back up a little. The mirror ….

But Ryka was beyond conversation, and far beyond following any of Kyle’s orders. “Master,” he called again, voice even rougher than usual. Kyle couldn’t help but think it was sexy. And picking up on that one thought was all it took to finish Ryka off. One more enraged snarl rumbled out of his throat as he climaxed.

Panting, he sank back on his heels. His tail relaxed across his lap, the tip sliding to the carpet between his calves, and his wings sagged. “I think I’m done.”

You think?

“I can be done.”

Okay. Then how about you clean up that lovely mess you made?

Ryka cracked open one eye long enough to glance at the mirror. He was recovered enough to be a wiseass. “It’s not foggy anymore.”

Cute. You know what I mean.

He peeked again, and Kyle did his level best to keep the demon’s gaze fixed on the milky splatter now streaming down the glass. “Do I have to clean it?”

If you do, I’ll help you the next time.

“Jerk off or clean?”

The first one, idiot. Of course, Ryka had just wanted him to say it. But Kyle didn’t feel like cooperating. It felt good to give the demon back a little of his own.

“In that case ….” To Kyle’s astonishment, Ryka actually did as he was asked, overcoming shaking legs to climb to his feet and find the Windex. Though he promptly followed his good deed with a celebratory drink. A half a bottle of whiskey lasted him an entire minute. “We’re out.” The other half had suffered a similar fate a week earlier.

I can see that.

“Should I stay awake so you don’t choke on puke in your sleep?”

I’d really appreciate it.

Only when Ryka resettled himself on the floor did Kyle realize how exhausted the demon was. He was looking in the direction of the mirror, enough so that Kyle could still see his reflection. But Ryka’s eyes were glazed over, and he was still catching his breath. But not all of his body had registered the fact that he was worn out – he was hard again. Or, more likely, still.

“Sorry. It doesn’t know when to quit sometimes.” It was no empty boast that Ryka could go all night. Refractory periods weren’t a thing for demons, it turned out, and Ryka would cum over and over, never losing his erection. Kyle had never wished so hard not to be stuck in the same body.

It’s nothing to apologize for. I don’t really mind. No matter how much Kyle had once tried to deny it, there was no getting around the fact he did enjoy watching Ryka masturbate. Maybe nearly as much as Ryka enjoyed having a very rapt audience.

And there it was again, Kyle trying to urge Ryka’s gaze back below his waist. A quick check to confirm if Kyle wanted out, or was happy as he was, Ryka skimming through his host’s most immediate desires. To find that Kyle wanted to watch him go another round. Maybe it was cheating, not to ask, but fuck it. It worked for both of them.

Now feeling quite refreshed, Ryka stared hard at his reflection, sitting back and spreading his legs in invitation. The tip of his tail was thumping against the carpet, and the fire in his eyes was stoked once more. “Do you just want to watch?”

As much as Kyle enjoyed doing so, he preferred a little more involvement than that. Thinking again how strange it had been having Ryka call out his name when he hadn’t been doing anything more than observing, Kyle answered, No. Let me help you out this time.

With a throaty purr, Ryka conceded control of his hands. “Thank you, Master.”

You’re very welcome, dear. Now please, don’t look away.