Flash Commission – A Demon’s Face

WARNING! This story has some real extreme stuff in it, and is definitely more of a horror story than an erotica story. This includes blood and knife play, extreme pain play, scat and demonic references. If any of that isn’t of interest to you, don’t read it!

The message had arrived for John as a bit of relief. His friend Aleks had grown more and more distant over the last year or so, delving deeper into the occult and demonology, beyond the sort of fetish play the two had always enjoyed over the years. The last time John had gone over there, the mood had been tense, Aleks not exactly high, but more than a little out of his mind. John had left, unsure of what to do, and when he’d expressed some concern, Aleks had lashed out over text and refused to reply since. 

But now, months later, he’d finally gotten a message back. Short and to the point, Aleks had asked him to come over, there was something he wanted to show him. No apology, no real admission that he might have gotten a little too deep, but for John, he was happy he at least wasn’t dead or something. He got geared up in some leather pants and a spiked leather jacket, and headed for Aleks’s apartment to see what he wanted to show him.

When he arrived, though, it was quickly clear that everything was not exactly normal. The door wasn’t locked, and when he stepped inside, it was the smell that assaulted him at first. Something beyond musky or stale, perhaps even beyond rank. It smelled like something between a burning trash pile and a grungy locker room. He stepped inside, tested a light switch in the entryway, but the light only flickered for a moment before going out, and refusing to come back on. 

Looking down the hall, the whole apartment seemed to be dark and maybe even empty. He went in anyway, despite a general instinct to turn tail and run, and as he approached the living room, a more familiar smell joined the rest, cigar smoke. Sure enough, he turned the corner, and there in the dimly lit living room was Aleks sitting on the couch in full leather, smoking a cigar. He even had on a full leather mask that John had seen him in a few times, which only made the whole look hotter still.

“Ah, there you are,” Aleks said, “I was getting tired of waiting.” He grinned, and John saw something strange–there was a light coming from the inside of his mouth. Aleks put the end of the cigar in his mouth, and again, something was off. The end of the cigar wasn’t burning, but he was still exhaling smoke out of his mouth. Aleks took off the dark glasses he had on, and John’s eyes went wide–his friend had no eyes underneath. There were just the holes in the leather mask, and behind that, there was just flame. “As you can see, I’ve made a few improvements to myself since the last time we saw each other,” he said, and when he talked, John could see the fire through his mouth as well. That explained the cigar–he was literally burning it inside his mouth. Aleks took another inhale off it, and John could see the thick plumes of grey smoke emerging not just from his mouth, but from his eyes as well. “Come on then, come have a closer look,” Aleks said.

Everything in John’s mind and body screamed at him to run, but the smell, the smoke, the light of the flame, all of it beckoned him closer. His limbs a bit stiff, he found himself lurching forward, the smell growing more intense, inhaling the smoke now, feeling his mind going a bit numb, his own cock stiffening in his leather pants. “Fuck Aleks, what the fuck did you do?” John managed to croke out as he came closer.

“Well, it turns out that selling your soul is the hard part,” Aleks said to him, “But once that’s gone, everything else is so much easier, you see. Demons will trade just about anything for a face. They use them to infiltrate our world, but not many people are willing to part with them. I feel like I got everything I wanted for mine though. Stop trying to fight it, John–my smoke can bend the will of any man now, my musk can corrupt even the most stalwart soul. Stop pretending that you don’t want to kneel before me, service me, it’s all you fucking want now.”

John could feel it, the hunger and desire welling up inside him. He couldn’t tell if it was his own–after all, they had imagined something like this together many times before, though only Aleks had really believed he could pursue such power. In the end, it didn’t matter. He could feel the smoke smothering all of the doubts, all of the fears, and he fell to his knees in front of Aleks, and shoved his face into his new master’s crotch, inhaling the scent of the musky leather.

One of Aleks’s hands cupped his chin and lifted his face up. “I always loved your face, you know, it’s so sweet–I’m going to get a great deal for yours, I think.” Aleks reached over to the table beside the couch where he was sitting, and opened up a switchblade.

“Wait…what…” John said, but his throat seemed too dry, his head spinning from the smoke.

“Your face, John. They want faces, and I will provide them. Don’t worry, I already know what I’ll be getting in return for yours. Now hold very still.”

The blade cut into his neck, shallow, but John gasped and tried to flinch away–only to find his body was paralyzed. Aleks drew the blade around his neck, and John could feel the blood drooling down onto his chest. Then, he drew it up the back of his head, following the spine, all the way to the crown of his head. That, it turned out, was the easy part. Aleks’s leather gloved fingers dug into the wounds at the back of his head, and began pulling the skin free of the muscle. John screamed then, the pain surging through his body and mind until he finally felt darkness overwhelm him, and he passed out.

In all honesty, he thought that was the end. When he awoke, the nerves of his face dully throbbing away at him, he thought he must be dead, now in some afterlife. He looked around at what he could see, and knew he was on a bed in a room he recognized as Aleks’s bedroom. Perhaps it had been a dream, or some hallucination. He tested his arms and legs, and while sore, they could move. He pushed himself up so he was sitting on the bed, and knew that there was a mirrored closet behind him. Terrified at what he might see, but knowing he had to look, he twisted around, and let out a groan.

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw in the mirror. The horrifying, bestial face, something between a gorilla and a wolf, staring back at him. The only part that he could still recognize were the human eyes underneath. He reached up, felt the greasy hair, the thick beard, the coarse skin, looked lower, under his neck, and let out another groan–whatever it was that was on his head now, it was…growing into him. He could see the veins of corruption spreading down into his chest and shoulders. He got up and went to the door–but it was locked. He tried to call out for help, but after a few minutes of that, he could feel the pain intensifying–whatever this process was, it wasn’t yet complete.

He spent the next eight hours on the bed, screaming in agony, as the demonic face fully attached itself to his head, spreading its corruption down into his body, deep into his soul. That was the most painful part, in fact, feeling that darkness, the horrifying chill, drilling deep into his chest, finding whatever light and good it could and snuffing it out. As it did, his body was growing, bones cracking and extending, muscles burning and flexing, a thick pelt of fur growing all down his back and chest. When the pain finally subsided, he looked over at himself in the mirror–and saw that his eyes were gone. His humanity was gone, corrupted away, just two pitch black eyes staring at him, a gnawing hunger deep in his guts, and an aching horniness in his groin. His cock and balls had not gone unaffected–his cock was larger now, easily eight inches, now with a sheath running up his abdomen. He got up from the bed, now nearly eight feet tall, tested the door with his claw tipped hands, but before he could rip the door from its hinges, it opened, and John dropped to his knees before his Master in the doorway.

The smell of him was not only more intense to his now bestial nose, but also smelled absolutely delightful. Filthy and musky and corrupted. Drool began flowing from his mouth faster than he could swallow it, and John pushed his face into Aleks’s crotch, snorting and huffing in his intoxicating stench.

“Good, it took. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to incinerate your corpse,” Aleks said, wrapping one hand around the back of John’s head, tangling his fingers in his greasy locks. “I’m too fond of you to not spend an eternity with you as my thrall.”

Thrall. The word reverberated through him, and John could feel it. Their connection. He lived to serve his Master now, his soul was gone, and what had replaced it was a deep, undeniable desire to worship him. Aleks’ opened his burning mouth wide, reached in with a hand, and pulled free a metal chain glowing with heat, though his gloves were unburnt. He took it, wrapped it around John’s neck, and the beast howled in pain. Aleks pressed the metal into his flesh, searing it there, before gripping the free ends of the chain in his fist and melting them together into a knot, now impossible to untangle or remove.

The pain ebbed away, and John felt his flesh healing rapidly around the metal–in a matter of moments, it was like it had been fused to his body for years. “What…what have you done to me?” he growled out, words warped by his long inhuman tongue and sharp fangs.

“I took your face, and traded it for a demon’s. A lower one, a beast of filth and sloth and wrath. I knew it would suit you and your desires. You are hungry, are you not, my slave?”

John gave a growl, and Aleks’ turned around, pulled his pants down, and shoved his ass to John’s face. The stench was horrific and intoxicating. John pried his master’s cheeks apart with his claws, digging into the skin a bit, and drove his long, pointed tongue into his hole, tasting it, tasting what he desired now, more than anything. Aleks fed his thrall his massive load of shit, listening to the beast eagerly devour every last bit of it, and when he was finished, he turned around, and sprayed him down with a load of piss. It came out nearly hot enough to scald, steaming in the air, and John was in ecstasy, reeking of his Master now, belly full, cock aching to fuck.

“Now, why don’t we begin our real task, my slave?” Aleks said.

That night, John grabbed one of the other tenants from the building, and dragged him back to the apartment. Aleks took the face from the man, and replaced it with one of his own desire, a blank rubber gas mask, filling the man with his smoke until his entire identity had been erased, knowing nothing more than the fact he was a drone, a slave to his demonic master and his favorite pet. At last, John was given his reward, and mounted the their first drone, driving his monstrous cock into its tight hole, wrecking it, destroying it, filling it with as much corruptive cum as he could, watching the drone expand in size, growing more and more muscular as the rubber of the gas mask spread, encasing the drone’s entire body.

Soon, they would have a harem. Then an army. Aleks was not content, after all, with personal power. No, the demons had promised him much, much more, if he would assist them in their assault on the mortal realm. The time of man was in twilight, and the age of demons was about to dawn.

Trevor heard the sound of a truck on the quiet street outside, and he went to the door of his father’s doublewide to look and see if it was his brother Gary, finally arriving for the funeral the next day. Sure enough, some beat up truck Trevor didn’t recognize pulled up in front of the house, but he had to wave away the pipe smoke blocking his view when the passenger stepped out. That couldn’t be Gary, could it? He’d seen him just the year before, while he was working on a construction job–he had a vivid memory of Gary sitting on the tailgate of a truck, shooting the shit with him, but this guy? He kind of looked like Gary, but what in the world was Gary doing shirtless, in sweats? And was that a chain around his neck?

The passenger thanked the driver and then walked up over the lawn, and meekly waved at Gary in the doorway. “H–Hey bro. Sorry I’m late. M–I had to hitchhike.”

Hitchhike? Why? You have a truck still don’t you?”

“I had to sell it…”

Trevor just looked at him, trying to piece all of this together. “What’s up with you, bro? I mean…something’s…changed. Are you working out?”

“Yeah…it’s a pretty intense program Master has me on.”


Gary turned even more red, and despite his muscular body, he tried to shrink down to nothing in the middle of the lawn. Trevor had no idea what that could even mean, so he decided it would be best to just ignore it entirely.

“Look, why don’t you come on in, and we’ll have a smoke in honor of dad. You still smoke, right?”

“Cigars, yeah.”

Gary looked like he was desperate to say something else, but Trevor just turned and walked inside. He followed his brother in, shut the door, and immediately stepped out of his shoes and dropped his pants to the floor, leaving on only the chain and the jockstrap he was wearing underneath. The underwear was so tattered and that when Trevor turned around and saw his nearly naked brother, his cock was clearly visible through several holes. “What the fuck man, are you some faggot now? Put your pants back on.”

“I–I can’t.”


“Master says I can’t wear anything other than my jock and my collar inside.”

“Who the fuck is master? What the fuck are you even talking about?”

“He’s the man who enslaved me. He owns me. I…I am a faggot, Trevor. I just didn’t know it, but Master showed me what I really am, and I’ve never been happier, alright? I know it doesn’t make sense, I know–”

“Get the fuck out of here. Get the fuck out!”

Gary had just enough time to grab his sweats before Trevor opened the door and pushed him out of the house, he picked up the tattered shoes and hucked them at Gary on the lawn, one sole smacking him in the face, then he slammed the door, unable to deal with what he’d just heard. First dad, and now this? And he had to come like this to the fucking funeral? He went and grabbed the bottle of whisky he’d bought for them to share, and drank a few shots, and then checked out the window. Gary was dressed, and sitting on the sidewalk curb in front of the house, head in his hands. Trevor had seen that look, he’d seen it on him the day their mom died when he was fifteen, and Gary was twelve. He’d seen…

He stepped away from the window and went and drank more whisky, smoked another bowl of tobacco, and then checked the window again. It was now close to midnight, and Gary was still sitting on the curb. Trevor went to the door, ready to kick his ass down the street, stormed out onto the lawn, and then stopped, turned around, and went back inside. He needed a few deep breaths, he needed…something. He was the older brother, he was supposed to know what to do, he was supposed to have the answers now, but everything he’d planned was for rot now, and he didn’t want to go there alone tomorrow, he didn’t want to face that casket by himself.

He stepped out again, and stood on the step. Gary looked over his shoulder at him. “Come on, don’t freeze out here like that,” Trevor said, was quiet for a moment, and then added, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s ok,” Gary said, got up and walked up to the house, “I understand.”

Trevor tried not to look at his brother as he undressed, instead he poured them both a shot, and then took an extra one for himself. After that, things got a bit easier. They avoided the topic of what had happened to Gary, and instead spoke about their father and their memories. Gary got drunk, but Trevor was drunker, and when their conversation lapsed, and Trevor lolled back on the couch, close to passing out, Gary excused himself, got up, and went to his bedroom to sleep.

Trevor found him there an hour later, sleeping on the floor under a single sheet. His cock was out and half hard, as he fondled himself in the doorway, trying to keep his balance, and then stumbled over and yanked the sheet off his brother. Gary woke up and saw what stood over him, and rolled over, pushing his ass into the air as he’d been taught. Trevor stared at it, licked his lips, thought better of himself, and then got down on his knees and tried to fuck his brother’s ass. He was too drunk and too soft to manage that, so Gary turned around, pushed his brother down, and sucked him off instead, swallowing Trevor’s seed. “Thank you, sir,” Gary said, but Trevor pretended not to hear him as he slunk back to his own room in the house.


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