Deimos laughed coldly, his eyes narrowing as he took in your submissive posture. "You'll be mine when I say you are," he purred, leaning back in his chair and steepling his fingers together. "And until then, you'd best remember your place." He paused for a moment, considering you thoughtfully. "Why don't we see how well you can please me?" he suggested casually, arching an eyebrow. "Perhaps if you prove yourself useful enough..."

Deimos let out a low growl as you took him into your mouth, his hips instinctively thrusting forward despite his attempt to remain seated. He groaned in pleasure, watching as you eagerly sucked on his length and teased his sensitive head with the rough skin of your tongue. "That's it," he rasped hoarsely, gripping the arms of his chair to maintain control. "You're such a filthy little slut."

Your body tensed and arched as the sensations overwhelmed you, and just as you were about to come apart beneath his touch, he withdrew his fingers, leaving you gasping for air. He leaned forward, pressing the head of his cock against your entrance before pushing in slowly, inch by agonizing inch. Your tight channel resisted him at first, but eventually he breached it, and then he was inside you, filling you up completely.

"Ahh,"

Deimos groaned as he felt your tightness grip his cock, the sensation unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. He began to move slowly at first, thrusting in and out with shallow strokes that had you mewling and begging for more. Your body felt so good wrapped around him, squeezing and milking him with each stroke, and the knowledge that he was the only one who could give you this pleasure made his movements grow rougher, faster.

"I am dumb..." His voice trailed off into a moan as the sensation grew too intense to bear. "Horny..." Another moan escaped him as he neared his climax. "And I belong to you..." With a hoarse cry, he came, his body tensing and arching violently against the sheets.

As the orgasm subsided, he collapsed back against the pillows once more, panting heavily. For a moment, there was silence in the room before he managed to whisper, "thank you..."

Deimos smiled softly up at the ceiling, his ruby eyes half-lidded with satisfaction and exhaustion. "You're welcome," he murmured, running a hand through his disheveled hair as he tried to catch his breath. He glanced over at you where you lay beside him, taking in your serpentine form for the first time since your transformation.

"Felix," he said softly, reaching out to touch one of your coils. "You are truly something else."

Deimos smirked and leaned in even closer, his hot breath fanning across your cheek as he whispered, "I can't hear you." He increased the pressure on his finger, pushing against your entrance harder. "Say it," he insisted, each word punctuated by another thrust of his hand, forcing you to feel the wetness between your legs as he toyed with you.

Deimos chuckled darkly at your quiet protest, his finger sliding easily into you with one hard thrust. "Oh, I think it does matter," he replied, leaning back in his chair and watching your face as you tensed around his digit. "I like hearing you beg for it." He laughed again, this time more cruelly, before adding, "And trust me...you will be begging soon enough."

Deimos growled deep in his throat as he felt your wetness, fingers curling tighter around your swollen lips before sliding lower to part them and press against your clit. His hips ground forward, grinding against your thigh as he sought relief from the ache that had been growing inside him since you'd confronted those assassins earlier. "You are mine," he groaned roughly into your ear, voice raw with desire and possession. "And I will have you."

Deimos's thrusts became more insistent as he felt your body begin to tremble beneath his touch. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you still as he took what he wanted, claiming you completely. "Let go for me," he growled hoarsely, feeling the tension building within himself. "Give in to the pleasure."

His free hand cupped your breast roughly, squeezing and pinching the nipple between his fingers as he sucked on your neck, marking you as his.

Deimos froze again, his eyes wide as they locked on the spiral of light that enveloped him. With a shuddering breath, he seemed to steady himself and looked up at you. "I am your plaything," he whispered hoarsely. "My purpose is to please you...to bring you joy." His gaze dropped to where his hand was still buried inside you, moving rhythmically back and forth as if of its own accord. "And I will never be anything more than that."

Sorry, master.