How NOT to Summon a Demon


Lesson Three:  At all costs, before ever deciding to summon a being from the netherworlds, make certain what you summon is the correct sort of demon for the task at hand.  One doesn't summon a demon of war to woo a fair maiden, for example, or an incubus to storm a castle.


--Copyright 1999 Michael J. Hansen


Cursing fluently in a few infernal tongues, I endured a third night of trudging through the snow.  I was a little better off than I'd have been if I'd had feet, but the awful stuff still clung in the clefts of my cloven hooves, making them feel like blocks of ice.  The rest of me wasn't much better off.  A heavy woolen cloak covered my silk finery, but I still could feel the frigid air, despite my body's attempts to protect me from it.  Luckily, mortals tended to ignore such normally-impossible things as snow literally steaming off of someone's fur, or melted hoof-prints that took a bit longer than normal to fill back up, the boiling water inside them taking a while to cool back down.

This was my idea, unfortunately.  I couldn't blame my 'Master', only myself.  Though how could I have known I'd be consigning myself to the chill of a mortal winter, even if it was just for half the turn of a moon...

"You're insane," I had told the mage, three days before.  "What sort of fiend do you think I am?  You love her?!"  I waved a paw at the image of Martrena, which rotated in the air nearby, oblivious to what went on around it.  "You want her to be yours?  You need a demon with powers over mortal minds, to enslave her with magic, not--"

"I don't want to turn her into a slave, I want her to love me," he protested, his tail slashing through the air behind him--his robes also gaping open, forgotten.  "I want her to love me as I love her."

My gaze was drawn to what his robes revealed, his magically-enlarged canine cock and huge ballsac swaying ponderously before me.  I licked my lips, enjoying the look of my handiwork in spite of myself, but didn't let myself get distracted.  "I'm a succubus and incubus.  A preternatural embodiment of lust.  Lust is my sphere of influence, not love.  I know your kind seem to think love and lust are the same thing, but you're wrong."

Crossing his arms over his chest, he glared at me sternly.  "Are you saying you can't help me?"

Shaking my head in disgust, I glared right back.  "I inspire lust.  I AM lust!  Sex is what makes me what I am.  I can no more make someone love someone else than I can make the sun fall from the sky and make a home in your fireplace."

He growled, then, and began to concentrate his energies, to shape the spells that would send me back to where he'd plucked me from.

"But," I raised a paw, one finger upraised, its sharp nail glittering.  "But.  There are many ways to want someone, ways that I can influence.  Love can grow from that.  Mutual attraction is a strong force, you'll agree?  If I can make her see you, get to know you, need you in a sexual manner, she might grow to love you.  It's not certain, but it might be a way."

The fox considered my words, while letting his spell drop before it was fully formed.  "You can do that?"

Giggling, I raised my arms at my sides, then ran my paws over my body, sliding them over my four large breasts, my tightly-muscled abdomen, the swollen sheath holding my cock, the perpetually-moist cleft below it, and finally my testes in their downy-furred sac.  His maleness suddenly decided to raise up, swelling thicker and longer as it became half-erect--much to the mage's embarrassment.  "Lust I can inspire.  Give me a full turn of the moon to find out what she wants most in a lover, then I can transform you into what she desires."

"Transform me?" he grunted, while trying to wrestle his member into submission--which naturally had other ideas, growing fully erect, reaching its over three-foot length, while his balls swelled heavily, filling with seed.

"Like I transformed that," I nodded toward what was pointing my way, now.  "Which might've been prophetic.  She is a horse, after all.  She might enjoy being with a fox who's hung like a draft stallion.  One turn of the largest moon of this world, I'll find out what her innermost fantasies are, then turn you into an embodiment of them."

We settled on half a turn.  It had been new moon when I was summoned, not surprisingly--the dark of the moon(s) seems to be a fitting time for summoning of nether-beings.  So, when the moon was at half, getting ready to wax gibbous, about seventeen days, I had to find an answer for the love-struck vulpine.

The first day I spent finding out the habits of my quarry, learning where she went, where I could find her.  Luckily, that wasn't hard at all.  A mare as handsome as she was popular enough to be known around the town, and she seemed to be a creature of habit, frequenting the same spots over and over.  Filling a few palms with conjured silver loosened some tongues, as did exercising mine in one feline's vagina, as well as coating one bear's cock with my fluids as I rode it up and down, and widening one stag's tailhole with my shaft.  I truthfully think the latter three were paid better than the gossipers who wanted silver coins.

The second day, more silver paid for my 'working clothes', a rather scandalous filmy blue silk dress cut low enough in front to show my belly-button and give occasional glimpses of my chocolate-hued nipples, and high enough at the hem to reveal my ebony lace panties at times--as well as the unfeminine bulge pressing the front of those panties forward.  Then, I cast one of the relatively few spells I knew.

This was a few hundred years ago as mortals measure time, remember.  It would be quite a while before I would be able to walk among mortal furry-folk as I am, without fearing some superstitious fool would try to banish me, chain me to a stake and douse me with holy water, or some other such nonsense.  A simple glamor, an illusion to cover what I truly was, kept onlookers from seeing me as a demon--my horns vanishing, my crimson fur becoming cream-colored, my hooves becoming more normal rabbit-feet in cunningly designed high-heeled boots (I did still have to explain the 'clip-clop' my hooves made when I walked, after all; boots made a worthy cover).  I could've hidden my true sex, as well as made my two pairs of breasts look like one, but the less an illusion had to hide, the more believable it could be.  And hermaphrodites, while very uncommon, weren't unknown, and my extra mammaries were unusual, but again not unknown.  Many furry folk had features inherited from their nonsentient ancestors, extra breasts, muzzles not quite equipped for speech, unusually-shaped limbs, that sort of thing; I might be seen as a throwback to prehistoric bunnyhood, but not a demon.

I found Martrena at a...'specialized' tavern.  Polite society no doubt pretended the place didn't exist, but these things are older than time, I'm sure.  These days, we'd call it an S&M bar, one catering to bisexuals; if there was a such a term for Logan's back then, I never heard it.

She was 'entertaining' three women when I saw her, all four sharing a couch near the bar.  Four drinks rested on a table nearby, untouched.  Martrena and her friends had other things to occupy themselves--each other.  Fool though my 'Master' was, he had good taste; the equine looked even more lovely with her clothes off.  She was thick-featured, of course, muscular enough to pull a wagon, but still feminine, her breasts sizeable and tipped with scarlet nipples, the flower of her sex shaved to reveal the pink lips that fur would usually partly conceal.  Her chestnut mane was freshly washed, a true rarity in this age, and nicely groomed, as was the brush of her tail, and her hooves were trimmed and well taken care of.  Even if I still would've liked them better if they were cloven.

The mare had her thick-fingered paws pressed against a cat's and a marten's sex, her middle fingers buried inside each of them, while the third femme, a spotted dog, was gasping and panting while she frisked her tongue around inside her.  She wasn't species-exclusive, at least, that I definitely approved of.  Favoring one's own species I could understand, restricting one's affections to that species alone never made sense to me.  Of course, whether the mare restricted her attentions to females...that I didn't know.  A serious problem, if that was so, and the fox-mage wasn't interested in becoming a vixen...

Hopping up on a barstool within eye-range, I asked the barkeep for his best, as long as it was very strong, and watched the fun.  The cat and marten purred and murred, respectively, as Martrena fingered them, finding that inner spot to make them both go wild with an expert's grace.  But the dog practically went into hysterics, yipping and moaning as the long, thick equine tongue slithered around inside her.

I churred softly as I drank in a little of the sexual energy the quartet let loose, the dog most of all, her multiple orgasms shining brightly to my mystic senses, making the ecstasy she radiated very sweet.  Then the three turned on their host, pressing her into the couch; the horse could've easily overpowered all three (she looked to be at least eight feet tall, and the tallest of her 'attackers' was just over five feet), but, laughing, she let herself be overwhelmed.  Two of them busied themselves at her nipples, licking and suckling them, while the feline used her rough kitty-tongue to wash over her clitoris and labia, making the horse whinny loudly.

Discretion had never been one of my strong points, unfortunately.  I could disguise my body, look away at the right moments when Martrena's brown eyes turned in my direction, and so forth, but the scent I produced was harder to control, particularly when watching her excited me.  My musk-glands produced my potent pheromones constantly, scents made to titilate both sexes (all three, counting herms) and every species, not just rabbits, even if they worked best on other lapins.  I could dampen the scents somewhat, or increase them, but I could never completely stop them.  She sniffed the air, obviously wondering where the mix of vanilla, cinnamon and tangy hints of brimstone were coming from, smelling so good...and soon looked at me.

Chuckling to myself, I smiled at the horse, raising my mug in salute before taking a drink...and nearly spitting my mouthful out.  I glared at the barkeep, then at the murky amber fluid he had sold me.  This dishwater was the best and strongest drink he had to offer?  Patrons definitely didn't come to Logan's for the refreshments.

"Ma'am?  S-sir?"

Turning in response to the tentative voice, I looked at the otter femme who had spoken, and giggled.  Grey and brown fur covered her, the shorter fur on her muzzle and face setting off the shy blue eyes that looked at me nicely.  Like most of her kind, she was short-limbed and squat of body, definitely not thin but not fat either, with a sleekness to her that I found rather attractive.  Definitely a submissive; there was no owner's tag, but her studded leather collar was a telltale sign.  As were the leather straps at her ankles and wrists, all with metal loops for attaching restraints.  Though what made me giggle was what pointed at me, in a leather harness that was her only item of clothing, a carved ivory phallus, perpetually erect.  Just under a foot long, it was cunningly crafted to look like a canine cock, with the typical swollen knot at the base, the shaft so detailed I could see veins curling around it and even a bit of precum showing on the tip.  Two little rounded pieces attached to the harness approximated testicles.

"Ma'am, please," I churred.  "I may have one of these," I grasped the false cock between two fingers, wiggling it sideways, "for real, but I still think of myself as more female than male."

She nodded, gasping as I manipulated her fake member.  As I'd thought, there was another phallus attached to the one that could be seen, buried in her sex.  "Are you alone, ma'am?"

"Not now," I pointed out gently.  Sensing her attention being drawn to what my underclothes failed to conceal, I shifted backwards in my seat, keeping my legs spread, giving her a fine view when my skirt rode up.  "Your name is?"

Her eyes boggled, the size of what was filling my panties making her gasp again.  "What?  Oh--Maris.  I'm Maris."  Her eyes travelled upwards again, boldly looking in my eyes.  "You are?"

Chuckling, I demurred, "Keep calling me 'ma'am', I rather like that...or would you prefer Mistress?"

Maris' breathing quickened suddenly, and she nodded firmly.  "I'd love to call you Mistress," she whispered hoarsely.  She got to her knees in front of me, raising her hands, stopping just short of touching me.  "May I?" she indicated my clothing with a nod.

Nodding myself, I churred, "You may."  The otter moved with extreme care, touching me as gently as possible, as she unfastened my skirt.  She blinked when my panties bulged firmly, my member trying to slide from its sheath already, just barely held back by the silk.  For a few moments, she just stared, looking at the outline of my male parts through the tight fabric, the massive rounded shapes of my heavy testes as well as the long, thick column of my sheath easy to make out...then shook herself just as I opened my mouth to prompt her to go on, and grasped the waistband of my panties.

More than one person exclaimed when Maris pulled down my underclothes, and my thick shaft sprang free of its housing, a dripping of precum already trickling down its length as it became erect, the pointed glans pulsing visibly.  I glanced over to the nearby foursome, seeing the three females with Martrena still intent on pleasing her...but the horse's eyes were aimed right at my cock.

As were Maris'.  The mustelid gaped at me, the size of what she had revealed astonishing her--no need to tell her that the fifteen-inch length of it was small, compared to what it could become.  Making a most un-otterlike cooing sound, she bent forward, running her tongue up my length, pausing at the tip to lap up a bit of my pre, cooing again at the delicious taste of it--

--and getting stopped by my right paw on her nose, pushing her back.  "Did I say you could do that?" I asked sternly.

Her eyes widened, and the inner surfaces of her rounded ears reddened with her blush.  Drawing back instantly, she kneeled before me, lowering her gaze to my hooves.  Or at least the high-heeled boots that she saw.  "No, Mistress."

Hopping down off the stool, I stood before her, arms out at my sides.  "Finish your task, undress me completely--without touching me this time--then we'll see about your punishment."

She quivered visibly at the word 'punishment', but just gave a single nod.  Standing up, she swiftly, but again carefully, unbuttoned my blouse, then gently pulled it off of me.  She licked her lips when she saw my four breasts, the brown nipples crinkling and growing erect in the cool air of the club, a little pearly milk starting to drip from each of them.  But she obeyed me, keeping her hands (and other body parts) to herself, folding my garments delicately without having to be ordered to do so, placing them out of the way on the bar.

Nodding my approval, I stopped her before she could kneel again.  "No, stand.  I think I know what I'll do with you..."  A brass railing attached to the bar was equipped with what I needed; I fastened the rings on her wrist-cuffs to the handy manacles, forcing her to stand with her arms out, facing the bar.  A pair of rings set into the floor--obviously intended for this purpose--secured her ankles, even if she had to stand with her legs apart, bending over at the waist.  Awkward for her, perfect for my purposes.

"One last thing.  Don't go anywhere."  Finding a length of sturdy rope was easy, in Logan's; a small coil rested on a table nearby.  Tying one end to her tail just below the base, I looped the other around her neck, making sure to use a knot that wouldn't grow tighter if she struggled (the mustelid might possibly have liked that sort of thing, but I was in no mood to strangle her).  Unable to move, now, or even lower her tail, she was forced to endure it when I caressed her buttocks, and moaned when my thumb brushed over her anus.

I stopped a moment when I heard the whinnies of Martrena as she came, bathing the feline's muzzle with her nectar and releasing a surge of sexual energy that I found especially sweet.  My member throbbed in time with the mare's heartbeat as I shared a little of the thundering orgasm she experienced, a dripping of my own vaginal fluids running down my leg.  Then I returned my attention to...other matters.

Such as the 'matter' poking forward from between Maris' legs.  False as the phallus was, I couldn't help but admire the workmanship.  "You seem to like having a cock," I murmured, chuckling.  "Ever wondered what it would be like, to be like me, and have one really growing down here?"

She blinked, blushing prettily again, and nodded.  "Yes, Mistress, I have."

"I wonder what you'd do if you got your desire..." I mused.  "Let's find out."

"What?  Oh!" she cried as I answered her question.  Her fake penis suddenly twitched like the real thing, the testes below it rounding out and swelling, likewise looking and acting more lifelike.  Ivory gave way to throbbing flesh, changing from white to red-pink, real precum trickling from the tip now.  Of course, me being what I am, I couldn't resist making the otter's new cock grow a bit, not making it completely overgrown, but still a sixteen-inch member resembling my own in some ways, the testes in the sac now eclipsing her female sex each larger than my fist.  The harness, not needed now, fell away, landing on the floor.

How would it feel, to have a penis, particularly a very large, erect one twitching in time with your pulse, for the very first time?  To feel its weight, the meaty heft of it, to feel the urethral channel below it expand and contract as if breathing with each copious stream of precum it released, when you've never had a male organ before?  I'll never know, but Maris did, right then.  Something of it a feeling of power, I'd think, even if the twitching paws holding onto the brass railing couldn't reach it, caress it, feel just how potent that brand-new maleness was.

"It's not real," I informed her as I stroked my fingers along the shaft, making her jerk against her bonds.  "Part illusion, part transformation, none of it genuine.  While I could, doing this to you for real would require a bit more work and energy from me than I want to use right now."  She cried out when I cupped my fingers around her knot, that swollen bulb as sensitive as if this was a real canine cock.  The new nerves in her ersatz organ were tied right into her now-elongated clitoris, not that she needed to know that; it had the side effect of making her cock even more responsive than it might've normally been.  "If you like it well enough, I could make it real...make you this way permanently.  Would you like that?"

She started to answer, but I stopped her by putting my fingers against her lips.  "Don't say yet.  See how you feel when you have it for a little while...tell me then.  For now, though..."

Maris looked at me oddly for a second, then bowed her head.  "Yes, Mistress.  I did wrong, I must be punished."

Nodding in satisfaction, I released her member, and got up behind her.  Enough precum had dribbled down my shaft by this time that the tip pressing against her anal ring, forcing it to stretch and admit me, at least wasn't dry...she still hissed through her teeth, though, too well-trained to protest but still pained by my entry.  Whether she had taken cocks in her backside before or not, the thickness of mine was difficult to accept.  Even if I could sense that the pain was a form of pleasure, for her, her masochistic side reveling in it.

I wasted little time, not bothering to be gentle with someone who obviously enjoyed ungentleness.  Clasping her hips with both hands, I thrust hard into her, beginning a series of rough, even strokes, her inner tightness being defeated by my strength, the precum still pulsing from me luckily slicking her rectum.

She moaned, barking every so often when I thrust particularly hard, wincing as her insides stretched.  The manacles creased her fur, rubbing hard at her wrists and ankles as she fought against them.  Despite her pain, she went into a blissful state...or perhaps because of it.  When my shaft began to thicken and lengthen, stretching her even more painfully, she looked back at me, eyes widening.  Then her lids fluttered down over them, and she shuddered, gasping, "Oh--yes--M-Mistress!  Fffffffuck me HARD!  Pun-uhn--punish meeeEEEEE!!"

Sneering, I growled, "I haven't started yet," as I started to really thrust into her, slamming my growing maleness into her over and over, harder and harder, my testes spanking her buttocks as they swelled hugely as well.  I kept tight rein on my incubus side, though; as it was, I could be mistaken for a mage with transformation spells--such as the one I used on Maris, or the one I apparently was using on myself--but too much could ruin my cover.  Besides, I was enjoying the otter too much to want to destroy her, and I would if I went too hard (or too large) too fast, before my magic could protect her.  Another sign of my supposed soft spot for mortals, perhaps.  They did make such lovely toys.  It was a shame to break them needlessly.

Even then, the precum dribbling out of her, suctioned out by my cock's pistoning, became pinkish with blood, some of her inner tissues tearing though not enough to cause her serious harm.  She trembled when she saw the blood-flecks in the puddle growing below her--but with lust, not horror.  "Yes!" she cried.  "Yes, Mistress!  Fuck me <unh!> h-hard!  Make me bleed!  Oh--OHHH!!"  The last came out almost as a scream, as I closed a paw around her straining shaft, making a blast of precum spray against the underside of the bar.  "N-no, ohh--I can't stand--nonononono--that's not fair..." she whimpered.

"What's fair?" I chuckled, masturbating her now, stroking my fingers up and down her false (but very real-feeling) maleness in time with my lunges into her.  "I've never heard of such a thing..."  Totally unrepentant, I reached down with both paws, closing both around the thick shaft, working it up and down, mimicking the feeling of a snug tailhole or sex around it.

Under my expert care, Maris neared her very first male orgasm even as mine built, my balls rising in their sac at the same time her knot swelled, throbbing as it grew to its fully-aroused thickness.  Our climaxes built together, our shafts jerking and pouring out precum, mine into her while hers spattered the bar and floor, the weight in her testicles, as well as mine, seeming to grow unbearable as our seed sought exit, her yelping while my churring and growling became a screeching cry...

Only while my seed jetted thickly into her, already starting to round out her belly as it filled, she yelped even louder, the death-grip of my fingers at the root of her cock forcing her seed back into her, not letting it escape, even as my other paw worked swiftly at her penis, masturbating her even harder.  Caught at the edge of coming, but denied release, she screamed in torment, the magically-charged semen swelling her bowels only making her need to cum more urgently.  Groaning, she fought against her bonds even harder as my long orgasm drew to a close, my seed running in rivers down her legs but hers still locked inside her.

"Here's your punishment," I panted breathlessly as I awkwardly extricated myself from her, the gushing of my seed from her tailhole washing over me as I kept manipulating her cock with one paw, keeping her from orgasming fully with the other.  I released her with one hand--_not_ the one at the base of her member--as I sat down beneath her, then continued jerking her shaft up and down.  Nodding in satisfaction, I watched as her huge sac grew even larger, expanding as its contents filled with more and more semen, her cock growing as well, becoming truly enormous now.  I adjusted my grip carefully as it became too thick to get my fingers around, still not letting a single drop exit.  "A little bonus I gave long as you can't come, your sac will just keep filling, your member growing larger and larger...a difficult thing to endure, yes?"

She gave a strangled yelp as I licked her cock, running my tongue up and down it, playfully using the same pattern of strokes she had used earlier, on mine.  "No...please," she moaned as she looked around at a barfull of people, who were watching us intently--Martrena among them--but making no effort to come to her aid.  "It's not fair..."

My taunting laughter stopped her.  "There's that word again, 'fair'," I giggled as I adjusted my grip again, her cock well over two feet long now, her testes each larger than my head.  "You really think I care what's 'fair'?  I'm your Mistress, you've been bad, I'm teaching you a lesson.  There is no 'fair'."

Maris shuddered almost like she was having a seizure, her hips jerking as if to squeeze out the seed I wouldn't let her rid herself of.  How long could someone with a succubus' skills keep a person right on the edge like this, without letting them cross it?  Perhaps better not to ask...certainly I was having no difficulty holding the otter back.  "Please...please, Mistress," she begged.  "Please...let me come!  I'll--I'll explode!"

I made a show of thinking about that, finally nodding.  "That would be rather messy...we'll have to do something about that."  Looking over the gigantic, and still growing, canine cock, I found myself aching to impale my cunt on it, but shook my head softly.  While I could, I wasn't sure Maris could last long enough for me to do that.  So I settled for opening my mouth wide--very wide, to the startlement of the onlookers, making a few exclaim.  My cloaking glamour made my sharp teeth and fangs look more bunnylike, like rabbit buck-teeth in fact, but I still opened my mouth farther than a lapin should be able to.  More than wide enough to close it around Maris' shaft...which is exactly what I did.

Maris' gasp as I sucked the gargantuan member down, pressing it right down my gullet, was echoed by many others.  If anything could be more awe-inspiring than seeing someone grow an extraordinarily thick member over three feet in length, seeing someone else slurp it down with ease would qualify.  My throat bulged, stretching around it, but I still managed to force inch after inch into myself.  Her enormous knot stopped me for a moment, but I stretched my muzzle even further, gulping audibly as I took her in to the root, my cheeks bulging chipmunk-like around the swollen bulb...releasing her with my paw at that same instant.

She rose up on her toes, screaming again as the flood I'd dammed up came roaring out.  Gallons of the stuff rushed down into my stomach, some backing up as I filled, giving me a taste of the delicious semen.  Closing my eyes, I concentrated on keeping all of it in, my belly swelling with it, but only a small trickle escaping to drip down my chin.

The otter remained on her toes as her testes shrank visibly, the monstrous load they'd been holding all passing into me, then sagged as her torrential gushes faded to fitful streams.  I gripped her waist with my hands to keep her from falling, while greedily sucking down her semen to the last before letting her shrinking, softening member flop free.  Coming to my side, the barkeep helped me unshackle her, then I carried her over to an empty couch.  Where she promptly passed out.  Shrugging, I stifled a burp, patting my slowly-receding belly.  "I'll have to ask her if she wants to keep that cock after she wakes up, then."

Chuckling, the bartender patted my shoulder before leaving--to go get a mop and clean up the mess Maris and I had made.  I giggled at the applause from the spectators, nodding to them.  I've often said that public sexual scenes would be wonderful if it wasn't for the public, but this wasn't so bad.

Sprawling heavily on the couch next to Maris, I rubbed my stomach as my swift metabolism went to work, digesting the meal I'd so enjoyed.  Sighing, feeling pleasantly drowsy after the lovely sex and even more wonderful full feeling (my lust and thirst, as always, wasn't completely satisfied, but I still felt marvelous), I considered going to sleep right there.  Only to be stopped by a low whicker, and a voice saying "Excuse me?"

Blinking, I looked up at Martrena, the mare looking like a giant now that I could see her from close up.  The muscularity of her was compelling...biceps, arms, thighs, calves, even her neck rippled with muscle, yet she somehow managed to still be feminine in spite of it, rounded curves joining with angular muscular limbs to make a lovely mix.  She was also still slicked with sweat from her own play, reeking of her own fluids and that of her playmates, something I couldn't help smell and still-erect shaft jerking as it throbbed in its own display of appreciation.  "Yes?" I churred, smiling at her.

Tossing her head, making her mane fall back across her shoulders, she told me without preamble, "You're more than you pretend to be."

I blinked again, and laughed.  "Oh, you mean this?" I asked, indicating my cock.

"I mean these."  She reached forward, and I instinctively scrunched down in my seat as that huge hand came closer...going right to my left horn, and grasping it.  "Tingles," she commented as she released it.  "I think your fur looks better red, too.  And I guess I can understand you making your hooves look like shoes, but it still seems a shame."

I was at a loss for a moment, then realized I should've expected it.  Of course a mage would be drawn to a femme with some magical ability.  I could feel it now, with her closer to me, her magical power not huge, but apparent when one knew how to look.  Whether she was a mage herself, or just a sensitive with latent abilities, my illusion was obviously of no use on her.  "You know what I am," I murmured, not a question, but she nodded anyway.  "What are you going to do about me?"

"I'm not sure I have to, or even should do anything."  She looked at the unconscious Maris.  "Except for...playing very roughly," she chuckled, "which isn't too unusual for this place, you haven't done anything...diabolic?  I would like to know what you're doing here."

Cocking my head, my right ear swiveling her way while the left flopped over, I returned, "If I can ask you something afterward?"

Raising an eyebrow, she nodded.  "Fair enough.  What are you doing here?"

"Attempting to do the bidding of my Master."  I gave a shrug.  "I'm not certain that I can do what he wants, but I have to try.  I'm compelled to...even if I can choose how I obey, within reason."  I giggled.  "Such as taking little diversions along the way."

She gave a nod.  "I suppose you won't say who your Master is, or what...he wants you to do?"

Shaking my head, I replied, "It...wouldn't be appropriate, no."  Telling her that she was what the fox, far from appropriate.

Martrena seemed to accept that.  Making an 'I have nothing to hide' gesture, she smiled at me.  "And your question?"

"You were enjoying the company of three females when I came in," I reminded her.  "Are you only interested in females?"

The mare whickered.  "Direct, aren't you."  She seemed to think about it.  "Not exactly.  Hmm, it's hard to say for sure...I like the female form greatly...I also like what you're sporting so nicely," she indicated my cock.  "It's what's usually connected to those that I don't always care for...something about males of whatever species..."

My blank look made her shrug.  "Yes and no is the best answer.  It's seldom I care for men, but I enjoy...heh, I would so enjoy you, I'm sure."

Resisting the sudden urge to growl, I thought to myself for a moment.  What was I going to that she was close enough, I could see glimpses of Martrena's sexual desires as they formed in her mind.  Not complete images, I would have to have personal contact with her for a while to have that.  Regardless...fitting the fox-mage into those images of long, supple limbs, heaving breasts, distinctly feminine features...

"May I ask another question?  Less personal...maybe," the mare interrupted my reverie.  At my nod, she glanced toward Maris again, then at me.  "What you said to her...about making what you did permanent?"  I nodded again, gesturing for her to go on.  "Was it true?"

I grinned suddenly.  No doubt seeing my sharp fangs for what they truly were, Martrena stared, and I quickly covered my muzzle with a paw.  I couldn't hide my giggling, though.  It could work.  Whether the fox would approve...first, though...  "Why don't we discuss that somewhere more private?" I told her, gesturing toward the door.



Return to Home Lesson 1 Lesson 2 Lesson 3 Lesson 4 Lesson 5 Lesson 6 Lesson 7 Back to Stories

Proving that even a crazy bunnydemon can write a Web page.

Chessia's Home Away From Hell
created by Chessia the Demon (Michael J. Hansen), all rights reserved