How NOT to Summon a Demon


Lesson Four:  If you do happen to summon the wrong type of demon for whatever your intended purpose may be, all may not necessarily be lost.  Strict supervision of your servant will be required, however.  Demons will always try to find a way to pervert whatever orders they are given to their own ends.


          Restraining the curses that came to mind as I minced my way through the snow again, I followed Martrena to her home, a rather large building near the edge of town.  Large when compared to the other structures nearby, at least.  Three stories tall, from the outside looking like it had ten rooms at least, it was notable for both its well-kept appearance--much of the town's dwellings looked squallid, really--and the fact that it was all by itself, its nearest neighbors fifty feet away or so, sharing walls with none of them (most of the other buildings looked like one structure may've been there once, and others got tacked onto it later, keeping at least one wall, as well as a roof, in common).  Windows of ruinously expensive glass, not mere wooden shutters, kept out the cold and glittered in the light of the street-lanterns.  There was only a small yard in front, perhaps twenty feet to a side, but still a great deal more than most other residences had; evergreen pines hid the rear yard, if any, from the street.

          I think the horse realized just how badly I was shivering, for she quickened her pace, her hooves  and mine crunching loudly in the snow covering the walkway.  Mortal winters, brrr!  I didn't think I'd ever get used to them.  Rude as it might've been, I was tempted to rush right past Martrena when the door opened, letting out a blast of wonderful heat, but I meekly followed her inside, nodding a greeting to the cow who opened the door for us.

          Appraising the bovine as she helped me off with my coat, I found her to be rather comely, easy to see as she was dressed only in a pale linen dressing-gown which showed off her figure nicely.  While thick-featured and strongly-built, she was a great deal more slender than I'd have expected her to be; though she was the first mortal cow I'd ever seen, in my schooling I had been told that cattle were heavy, usually slow of body and wit, not the brightest creatures but more prone to temptation because of it.  One of the most important aspects of a demon's education, especially a sex demon's, was learning about the mortals who were our prey, and how to lead them into sin.  My schooling was harder than most, in fact, since I had to learn how to tempt various furry species, not just the humans my brethren who were destined for the human worlds had to contend with.

          Even though, having talked to demons who've worked their wiles among those bizarre furless creatures, I'd have to say they're problem enough for anyone.

          For her part, the cow-maiden looked me over as well, not speaking but seeming to find me very attractive.  I still appeared to be a more normal anthropomorphic rabbit, thanks to the glamour I used; a femme-ish bunny...with a sizeable bulge deforming the smooth line of my crotch, making her eyes widen.  A maiden is just what she was, I realized, my mystical senses picking up the innocence about her.  Females had lain with her--Martrena among them, I was sure--but no males.  Which was, in part, likely why she was so thin; no male mates, no children.  Bovines, the females at least, remained fairly thin until they birthed their offspring--easy living wasn't what made most cows fat, calving was.

          "Chessia, this is Sunset, one of my finest possessions," Martrena introduced her, and she smiled, giving a low murr and dipping her head, making the fiery red hair that no doubt inspired her name flutter above her shoulders; regarding her Mistress' words as high praise, obviously.  I automatically lowered my horns in return, a greeting-gesture as common among demons as bovines, obviously.  "Sunset, Lady Chessia--" I didn't comment on my 'promotion' to noble status "--will be staying with us for a few days.  Make sure you, and the other girls, afford her every courtesy."

          "Yes, Mistress," Sunset answered promptly, nodding.  "Is she..."  I caught her hesitation as she looked below my waist again "Is she one of your...special guests?"

          Martrena gave a single nod, then chuckled.  "Why don't you show her how special, Chessia?  You won't have to worry about hiding yourself here.  My servants and pets are beyond reproach."

          I raised an eyebrow, but nodded, and spoke two words in the harsh, guttural tongue of my birth: 'Glamour begone.'  My seeming was only an illusion, but to Sunset's eyes, sparkling lights played about my form, and first my fur went from white to deep red, reddish-pink over the front of my torso; then my boots became dainty cloven hooves, their glittering blood-red a match for the sharp nails and short devil's-horns that appeared at the same time; and the bunny buck-teeth I'd appeared to be sporting became white, wickedly-sharp teeth, along with slightly-longer eyeteeth and the vampiric fangs that descended from my upper jaw.

          Luckily, I was still wearing my silk 'evening wear', or the cow might've fainted; I was hung like one of her kind, even with my maleness in its unaroused state, and she'd be able to see that.  Not that the thin panties I was wearing, and the filmy skirt covering them, were much of a screen.  As it was, her breathing quickened, nostrils flaring...the lust I sensed in her growing when she breathed in my pheromones.  Eight pinpoints, four to a breast, poked against her gown as her nipples erected beneath it.  "She is...very beautiful, Lady.  Very..."

          "Unique?" I offered in my seductive Alto churr, feminine but with just a touch of masculinity to it, smirking.  "Unusual?  Strange?  Perhaps...dangerous?"

          Her ears flicked, and she bowed her head, whispering, "All those things..."  More loudly, she declared, "You must be chilled...the snow is thick outside.  Come, Ladies, a warm fire, and refreshment and entertainment, can be found in the parlor."

          The 'parlor' proved to be a sybaritic room, rectangular in shape, at least as long as the house was wide--the bar where I'd met Martrena would fit easily into this space, with room to spare.  Further proof that this was a wealthy woman, though luckily for her, I had (and still have, really) no interest in mortal wealth.  When we demons learn how to conjure up gold in the earliest school classes, essentially allowing us to have all the gold anyone could ever want, whenever we wanted, not that we really needed it in the first place, why should it matter?  Much of the area was taken up by several huge feather mattresses, all covered with fancy linens and silks.  Two large fireplaces, one at each end, provided the heat and most of the light, glass-walled lanterns providing the rest, and a long bar was situated near one wall--and connecting via an open door to the kitchen, judging from the delicious smells wafting from that direction.  Two bartenders worked behind the bar, both female and scantily-clad, as were several waitresses that delivered drinks and food to the twenty or so people of various species lounging on the mattresses...who I immediately noticed were all scantily-clad, comely, and female.  Purples, golds, and various shades of pink, both on the furnishings and on the people, seemed to be the prevalent colors.

          Giving a chuckle, I regarded Martrena with one black eyebrow raised.  "Entertainment?"

          "We tend to make our own entertainment around here," she responded, chuckling herself, not in the least bit ashamed of what most in this age would call a degenerate display.  All these unattended females, not only showing (gasp!) their ankles in public, but in a few instances their bared breasts and even more...well, not public, it's true, but the provincial males of this time wouldn't see it that way.  A few of the femmes were doing things with each other, things involving lips, fingers, and other assorted body parts, that would likely make many of the males in this town pull their fur out.  The femmes' scent, mingled musk of varied species mixed with vaginal and other secretions, was thick in the room, making my silky clothing feel unaccountably tight, at least around the nipples and crotch, and making my own pheromone-scent rise in response...which made a few of the furs around me, Sunset among them, eye me hungrily.

          "I've done very well for myself, in business," Martrena went on, while stroking the bovine's lower back in a way that provoked a contented mooing.  "With a little magical help, I'll admit.  Men don't expect a woman, especially an equine woman, to have a good head for figures, and for spellcraft...that's worked to my advantage.  I built this stable--some furs I know in the East would call this a 'harem'," she pronounced the unfamiliar word 'hah-reem,' "to help entertain some of my business associates...but mainly for me."

          "They're slaves, then?"

          "Not completely, not in the way you mean.  They've pledged themselves to my service, willingly.  A few I did buy at auction, but most, Sunset among them, came to me to escape lives that...would've amounted to slavery.  Harsh slavery, to husbands, fathers...what I escaped myself."  There was pain in her voice, a rawness.  Then her powerful shoulders shrugged.  "I'll never live as a slave to a stallion, one of many wives or concubines to be used and abused at his I suppose I became a stallion myself, in some ways."

          "Far be it from me to champion traditional gender roles," I churred, and the horse chuckled again, nodding.

          "Everyone," Martrena called out, clapping her hands to draw attention to us (somewhat unnecessarily, as eyes were turning to us already, doubtless wondering who the strange-looking rabbit was), "this is Lady Chessia, who I met in town.  She'll be staying with us for a few days.  I trust everyone will award her with every courtesy, and make her feel..." she paused for emphasis "...very welcome?"

          Feeling more than ever like I was on display, I glanced around at the many pairs of eyes that gazed at me critically, wondering if I should undress to give everyone a real eyeful, stand on one hoof, dance, or what.  If it came down to it, I could always set myself afire, let the heat of my flames drive them back.  Being from the fiery Nether Realms, where all denizens were both immune to being burned by fire and could use fire magic as easily as breathing, gave one certain advantages.  I could understand their interest--I definitely wasn't the sort of sentient they were used to seeing--but the concentrated attention was still a bit unnerving.  Someone--a feline, from the purring undertone of the voice, though I didn't turn to see who spoke--voiced what surely most were thinking:  "What is she, Lady Martrena?"

          Martrena looked at me, plainly offering the chance to me to answer, but I just looked back, one eyebrow upraised, my toothsome grin making it apparent that I wasn't going to speak.  Let her stay on the spot.  Laughing, she said finally, "A demon.  There's no need for that," she admonished when a few took a step or two backward, some sketching crosses in the air across their chests, giving the sign to ward off the Evil Eye, or such.  "Chessia's assured me that she's not after anyone's soul--" I snorted; tempting mortals into putting their own souls at risk of damnation was in my purview, taking them wholesale I'd leave to those with the power of, as well as the interest in, culling souls "--so while I wouldn't call her terribly safe to be around, there's still no need for alarm.  She's a guest, let's all treat her as such."

          That seemed to break the tension, though I wondered if it was because they were reassured, or because they feared upsetting their Lady; in any case, Martrena had accepted me, so the rest seemed willing to do the same.  Most of them milled about, getting a good look at me...and a good sniff, which let my pheromones go to work on them from close up.  I saw more erect nipples then...a true forest of puffy areolae, pinks, reds, a few creams and browns, all pressing forward out of the fur surrounding them, some still concealed by tunics and blouses except for the noticeable bulges they made in the fabric, many not.  Even more compelling was the smell of them all, honey-sweet, musky, made more delectable since a good many of them bare below the waist, proudly displaying the sources of that mingled scent, every moistened cleft either surrounded by a matted thatch of curly fur, or bare, showing glistening, pouting vaginal lips.  Those who weren't going bottomless (and often topless as well) often showed their arousal by damp circles at their crotches, where their lubricating fluids had seeped through their clothing.

          There was one dissenter, however.  Far too loudly for Martrena not to hear, much less my rabbit-ears, a clear voice declared, "I still say our Lady should throw this one back.  Far too small to keep."

          I blinked.  If there was any one thing I was not used to hearing, it was that I was too small for anything.  Too large, perhaps--but too small?!  Five-foot-two I might be, but in the areas where it truly counted...small I wasn't.  "Olivia," Martrena warned, obviously recognizing the speaker's voice, while I turned about slowly, ready to glare down my detractor.

          And ended up staring up at her instead.  Though a mare like Martrena, where the chestnut Mistress of the household was big and powerfully-built, this femme was *huge*.  I could only surmise that she hadn't been in the room when I arrived, and had shown up just a few minutes ago; certainly, if this naked, dappled Amazon of a horse had been nearby, I would've seen her.  Surely a good eleven feet tall, she had a muscularity that also dwarfed Martrena's, yet somehow still managed to look feminine...a curve to her hips, a roundness to her otherwise slim breasts, their black nipples pressing forwad proudly...her rump, below the braided brown-and-tan tail, looked hard and dense enough to bounce a sword-point off of, but it was still shapely and fine, helping keep the effect of all that rippling, iron-hard muscle from being overwhelming.  Well, not too overwhelming, anyway.

          Still, she was a femme.  A femme descended from draft horse stock, from the looks of her--where Martrena's ancestors pulled wagons, Olivia's dragged plows across fields--but a femme, even if it would likely take another draft horse to tame her.  Or an incubus.  Since I happened to be one...

          "Sorry, milady," the massive equine apologized...somewhat, as she sounded far from repentant, even to my Martrena, who, from the expression she wore, wasn't buying it for an instant, "but why can't we ever have 'guests' more my size?  That hare's comely, but I'd break her in minutes!"

          While I growled, Martrena chuckled wryly, no doubt thinking of my earlier performance in the tavern.  "I doubt that.  I think you'll find Chessia a bit hard to break."

          "A tiny little hare?" the other scoffed.  "Begging your pardon, milady, but I think you may've had too much to drink tonight.  That slip of a--"

          "Might the 'tiny little hare' have a say in this?" I interrupted, my usual throaty churr taking a dangerous edge.  "Much as I favor having people talk around me as if I don't exist," I continued, while undoing the fastenings holding my lacy top together, then pulling it from my breasts, to the 'oohs' and 'ahhs' of many present, "I do insist I be allowed to speak up in my own defense.  And if you think I'm so very breakable..." I unsnapped my silky skirt, letting it flutter down to the floor, then stepped out of my panties.  With the aroused scents of those around me already teasing my senses, my maleness immediately surged free of its sheath, pulsing and dribbling some of my magic-tainted precum on the floor as it the startlement of the onlookers.  Besides the gasps and mutters--"Gods, look at the size of it!" and such--I distinctly heard one 'plop' as someone in the room fainted and fell to the floor.  I finished, "Then, please, *try* to break me."

          Olivia looked impressed...marginally so, at least.  "Not bad," she murmured, nodding at me.  "For a shrimp, at least."

          Glaring, I let a little of my true power shine through my eyes, allowing them to burn with emerald flames.  Gaping at me, the mare edged back a step, realizing that (small as my body was next to her) I was no one to trifle with.  Letting my incubus side reign unchecked was tempting, taking her--hard--multiple times, with my buckhood grown to huge size...but there was another option.  One more suited to the task, especially since I gathered that to truly impress this equine femme, another equine would do the job better.

          Dampening my lambent glare 'til my eyes no longer blazed, I looked to Martrena.  "Would it upset you if I...borrowed something from you?"

          "Borrowed?  What?"

          "'Borrowed' may not be the right have a fantasy-image I can see in your mind--please don't be offended, we sex demons are creatures of sexual fantasy.  Seeing the fantasies others hold isn't something I can control.  It's a powerful shape...a unicorn, with..."  I chuckled "...attributes like my own.  I'd like to..."  I hesitated; asking someone, a mere mortal at that, if I could do what came naturally to me went against the grain.  Still, she was my host, here, and while politeness to one's host took different forms in the realm I came from, some courtesies were universal--omniversal, really.  "May I borrow that image?"

          "You can do that?" Martrena asked, wonderingly.  "You can...change yourself, like that?"

          "More or less.  I have certain limitations.  My fur color, and these," I tapped one of my jutting horns with a fingernail, "are hard for me to change, so I usually don't bother...other parts of me," I glanced down at what else jutted forward, this from my crotch, "I can't alter overmuch.  I can hide my two sexes, sometimes, but not change them, my sexuality is too much a part of what I am."  I grinned toothily at her astonishment, even letting my twin feeding-fangs press down from my upper jaw, until they curled down almost to my chin.  "What, did you think this is *all* that I am?  I'm no mortal.  A playright on at least one world wrote--or will write, perhaps, mortal time sense confuses me--'There are more things on Heaven and Earth than are found in your philosophy...'  Or something of the sort.  This," I thumped my chest with an open palm, "is only part of my true self.  An avatar, really.  You might die of fright if you saw me as I truly am...  Never mind that...may I change myself, borrowing from your fantasy?"

          She nodded, and I went to work.  Levitating about three feet up into the air, I sheathed myself in crimson flames--pure theatrics, really, unnecessary, but it might help hide any contortions or grimaces I might make.  Taking a brand-new form wasn't easy.  After the new shape 'gelled', or whatever it should be called, when I became used to assuming it, transforming would be effortless.  A blink of an eye, and my bunny-seeming would be traded for what I became...until then, modifying muscle and bone, adding or taking away extra mass from the same extradimensional sources I came from, would hurt.

          I left my ears the same length, but changed their look slightly, giving them an equine mein--rather like a donkey's--while my short rabbit's-muzzle elongated, becoming goat-like.  My physique was already muscular, but became more chiselled, each and every muscle altering until it looked harder than stone, the heavy muscles of my abdomen taking on what mortals of another century might call a 'six-pack' configuration, silly as that's always sounded to me.  Bones snapped as they came out of their sockets, taking on new arrangements, all of them swelling massively...the latter a necessity for when I flung my arms up over my head, and *stretched*, gaining over a foot in height, then repeated the process two more times, growing to almost ten feet, my newly-thickened bones narrowing slightly, but staying larger than before, proportionate with my new stature.  My cloven hooves, at least, I didn't have to change, though they were now far from my dainty bunny-hooves, instead becoming immense, the size of dinner plates.

          Three changes remained, to make my new avatar complete...actually four, though coloring my waist-length hair gold instead of ebony, my eyebrows and the thatch of curlier fur at my crotch following suit, was a trifle, finished in seconds.  First my fluffy bunny-tail blossomed into a trio of longer tails, much longer, each almost as long as I was tall, their lengths splitting in two like a heraldric lion's, their six tailtips becoming adorned with a golden leonine tufts.  Just below, but centered between, my twin devil's-horns, what started out as a strange-looking lump soon sprouted into a foot-long spiral horn, unicorn-like in every way but its color, since it shared the glittering blood-red of my other horns, as well as my hooves and fingernails.  Lastly, another bulging lump, this time below my shoulderblades, making me look like a hunchback for a few moments (not that anyone could see it), burst into a huge pair of functional wings, appearing to be made of fire to the onlookers, but with crystalline feathers that would refract the light once the flames were gone, making the plumage appear to be all colors and no colors at once.

          With a whinny, I dispelled the fire shrouding me, and fluttered my new wings as I lowered myself back to the floor, revealing myself to be a unicorn of sorts, if one who was still visibly a demon through and through.  I still had to look up at Olivia--this was Martrena's fantasy I was embodying, not hers, after all, I was taller than the (marginally) smaller horse, but not the plow-horse--but it was from less of an angle, the horse now only a head and a half taller than I was.  Not that it mattered...her gaze was drawn down lower, to the ebony horse-cock I now sported, its veiny length thicker than my arm had been, as a bunny, and at least three feet long.  Whickering, I challenged, "Still think I'm too small, that I should be 'thrown back,' was it?"

          Snorting out a long breath through her nostrils, bringing with it the scent of her growing arousal to my own nose, she shook her head in admiration.  "You might do at that," she neighed, in what I judged was the most praise I was likely to get from her.

          Standing with my hands on my hips, legs spread to make my now even more huge sac swing freely, the semen-filled orbs within it grown to over six inches in diameter, I whickered again.  "Shall we see if we can change your tune?  I'd like to hear orgasmic cries, myself..."

          She gave a whinnying laugh, and nodded, obeying the will of the lust growing within her by stooping, then getting down on all fours like one of her ancestors, her tail thrown forward to rest atop her iron-hard rump, revealing the fleshy (and already sweetly, delectably moistened) lips of her sex.  Unable to resist having a taste, I snuffled that pouting opening, scenting her own delightful odor, then flicked my tongue out--still forked as a demon's, but thicker now, more suiting the unicorn I had become--and sampled the nectar slicking her.  She whinnied again, this time a throaty, low whinny that broadcast her lust as well as her scent did.

          "Now, don't kill her, Chessia," Martrena admonished.

          I withdrew for a second to give a quite serious nod of assent--killing her was more than possible, after all--while Olivia opened her mouth, no doubt to give an angry retort--'Her kill *me*?!' or somesuch--but got no chance to form it.  Stiffening my tongue, I drove it past her outer lips, then the inner, penetrating her in a rush while she raised up on the tips of her hooves, arching her back with a strangled cry, which was followed by more delicious cries as I worked my tongue deeper, forcing it past her resistance.  I was in the mood to take this Amazon with her sex more sopping-wet than it had likely ever been, and this was one of the best ways to encourage that.

          My words about orgasmic cries were becoming prophetic, the horse was very near to it, I could tell.  "My GODSSsssss..." she hissed through her teeth.  "How--how long *is* your tongue?"

          I chuckled; I'd never tell.  Long tongues were a succubus trait, and mine was longer than the average demonslut's, whether because of me being a furry-demon, or because I was also an incubus, I wasn't sure.  If needed, I could magically elongate it even further, give it ample length to--from her muzzle--slip down to wind around her hooves, then pass back upwards to tickle her nose.  Or even longer, if I was in a truly perverse mood.  By way of answering, I thrust another foot inside her, working it swiftly around in her depths, to her obvious and immediate delight...the strength of the muscles clamping down around me as she came was astounding, though I was definitely up to the task.  Truthfully, I was a guess, about two and a half, possibly three feet separated my tongue-tip and where my nostrils were pressed up against her, but I still hadn't reached her cervix.  No wonder she was unimpressed by smaller furs...she was *deep*!

          At any rate...not only was she dripping with her delightful nectar, but so was I, so much of the delectable stuff had flowed from her that besides my muzzle, my shoulders and top pair of breasts looked like they were coated in an icing-glaze.  Retracting my buccal organ, I got up from behind her, leering at her.  "Enough of the appetizer?" I whickered, slapping the side of my cock.  "Shall we get on to the main course?"

          Her ears flicked to the sound my cock made when slapped--rather like a wooden plank being thumped, testament to how hard it was--and I saw the whites around her mahogany-colored eyes as she obviously realized my veiny length had grown larger, just in the space of a few minutes, my testes also hanging lower in their sac, dragged downward by their greater weight and size.  She nodded again, then spread her legs wider, ducking her head and lowering her shoulders in a true gesture of equine submission, her tail stretched away from the dewy opening whose scent made my nostrils flare.

          Again I wasted no time, my newly-equine instincts telling me my mare was ready, more than ready, time to *take* her.  She shuddered as my strong hands clamped down on her rump-cheeks, holding her as I swivelled my hips, not needing to guide my length with my paws to direct it at her cleft...or to lunge forward, burying half my length in her in an instant, drawing a startled whinny from her, a sound more than half pained.  I gave her no chance to grow accustomed to the huge invasion, already sliding my length back until the head nearly slipped from her, then rammed it back the same distance I'd thrust at first, but the head still passed farther in, stretching her inner passage wider as well, my organ already growing bit by bit, adding a half-inch or so with each new thrust, fattening as well to greater dimensions, making her inner folds smooth out and distend to encompass me.

          "Oh...oooooooohhhhhhhh..." she moaned as another orgasm left her gradually, plainly loving this, not that I couldn't tell already from her sharpening scent and dribbling nectar, as well as how her tail swished--or swished until I grabbed it instinctively before it could whap me in the face, winding the long brush around my wrist to keep it still.  That small act, something equines do, I would later learn, made her shudder in submissive bliss.  "Ohhhh, yes, take me...take me like a stallion, make me your mare, my--"  She stopped speaking suddenly with a peculiar little hiccup, brought on by a new pain, that of my shaft's bell hitting her cervix, having reached it at last.

          "There you are," I whickered, grinning predatorially, and truly let her have it, forcing my hips forward with greater strength, no longer holding back, intent on sheathing myself to the limits and beyond in her.  Yelping, she tried to struggle, but I held her fast, while my shaft's tip sundered that fleshy barrier, letting me plunder her womb.  Her thrashing quieted gradually as the pain--enough of it for her to be able to stand my attentions, anyway, plenty remaining to more than satisfy any masochist--was taken away by my magic.  The literal wash of precum that flowed into her womb, a gallon at least, helped, the heat of it and the magic tainting it combining to fill her with a blissful, relaxing feeling.  My shaft was ramming into the roof of her womb by now, stretching that sacred chamber in fact in ways it wasn't designed for, while my girth--six inches across by this time, and still swelling--pushed her belly outward like some strange cylindrical pregnancy, rippling her fur with its passage, but it was no longer horror, but pleasure for her.

          Gasping after yet another climax, she murmured, "Never...never ever...never been like this...mmmmm...oh!" she gasped, as I picked up the pace again, ramming my maleness up into her chest even more lustily, her belly rounding out now with the precum I pumped into her continuously, hanging below her.  "What're you big...*unh* gods, your's impossible..."

          Not only was it possible, but I was putting it to what (to my mind, at any rate) was the best use feasible, plowing her as her great-great-grandam might've plowed a field, the wet, sucking sounds coming from where our sexes were joined becoming loud enough to almost drown out her cries.  Almost.  "Ohgods...ohgods...*UNH!*"  She'd had--was still having--dozens of orgasms, now it was my turn, the weight in my ballsac seeming to quintuple, all the energy in my body seeming to gather for release, into her.  "'re flaring...gods...will you ever *stop* flaring..." she panted, and might well wonder as she pressed her palms against her belly, feeling where my grossly-thickened bell created a ridge that travelled up and down rhythmically.  "Gods, come already, what're you waiting...oh.  Oh!  OHMYDEARGODSOHMYLORDS..."

          What brought on that orgasmic cry, of course, was my own climax, which arrived as a virtual explosion inside her.  It's been said that when horses come, they *come*, gushing with seed, extreme amounts of the stuff (to mortals' reckoning, at least).  A virile stallion might spew a good few quarts of semen into his mate.  I, despite my looks, was something much more than a stallion, or a unicorn, my capacity what one might expect of a god among stallions...or demon among same.  If that sweet bunny Dianella who I hoped to find, still, after obeying my summoner's will had been assaulted like this, not much would be left of her; as it was, it took all the reinforcement my magic could provide Olivia to keep her from becoming nothing but horse-head, massive legs, powerful arms, and sundered torso, split from neck to crotch by the detonation from within.

          Olivia didn't just swell with my seed, she bloated, incredibly, in the space of a few seconds the belly I'd already expanded with my preseed and cock's girth became huge enough to hold three full-grown stallions.  Then the next gush, and the many to follow, made her abdomen grow until she resembled a ball with arms, legs and head sticking out of it, her stomach long since overwhelming her breasts, the pair becoming twin swellings atop the hill of her belly.  She eventually became upright, in a standing position but with no hope of her hooves reaching the floor, her swollen form resting heavily on the floor, expanding further outward, only my grip on her and my still-thunderously-climaxing cock keeping her from rolling away.

          I put a stop to it soon, though, bearing down with muscles and magic, causing my orgasm--which might well have continued for an hour or more--to end as if a switch had been thrown.  "There," I whickered, breath blowing fast and hard through my nostrils, keeping my still-hard shaft inside her as a cork to keep too much seed from escaping, as well as out of simple enjoyment, "enough of that, I think, or I will kill you.  And I keep my promises."  Chuckling, I patted the taut side of her, making a reverberating thrum as if I'd patted the head of a drum.  "And what do you think of this 'shrimp' now?"

          Looking around while I waited for her recover enough to answer, I saw (and smirked) at the horrified looks some wore...and the open, gaping, animalistic lust of more.  I'd get no pleasure out of some, but a good many, particularly those who had their paws between their thighs or on their breasts, openly stroking themselves, had other ideas.  Martrena, to my delight, was one of the latter.  Chuckling at Olivia again, I prompted, "Well?"

          Her response finally came a minute or so later, her breath regained, though her nostrils flared even worse than mine as she snorted through them.  Eyes still closed as she was still wracked by more orgasms, she finally answered, " have...your *children*..."

          That stopped me short, my still-emerald eyes widening, but only for a moment.  We demons are born opportunists, quick to take advantage of mortal temptations, and the chance to seed (literally) my power in the mortal world was too good to pass up.  Every mortal life I touched would be a living battery that would increase my own power, in the netherworlds and outside, and any children, grandchildren, and so forth to come from my loins would definitely count as touched by me.  "Truly?" I whickered.  "That can be arranged, you know..."

          "Oh, yes...may I, Mistress?" she asked Martrena, no 'Lady Martrena' this time, nodding her head in supplication; if she could've bowed or even gotten on hands and knees before the other equine, she likely would've.  "Think of how strong they'd be...if they come out part-unicorn as well, think how beautiful they'll be..."

          Martrena seemed surprised as well, but recovered admirably.  "Are you sure about this, Olivia?  There's no turning back--well, there might be," she looked at me appraisingly, "but I'm sure Chessia wouldn't be too willing to un-impregnate you once her seed is planted.  If she can even do that.  Having a demon's foals..."

          I kept mum about whether I could or not, of course; it was within my power, all the same.  But I had no desire to use that power.  If I was to use my fertility-control abilities, I'd much rather use them in a far better way.

          Olivia, meantime, nodded to her mistress.  "Oh, I want it...I've never asked for anything before, but this I want...never has a stallion made me feel this way.  I've never met one so worthy.  I don't care if I birth a hundred foals, I want them..."

          "You just might," I warned, startling her.  "Oh, not all at once, but my seed is very potent.  It can live inside you for a very long time.  You'll likely become pregnant many times, after one set of foals is weaned, another will grow inside you.  You'll forever be either having babies, or raising them...with these people's help, at least," I nodded to the group of females surrounding us.  "So at least you won't be alone, even if I'd best not stay.  I hope I can stay in the mortal world, but I could cause too much trouble just by being here.  If you were found to be harboring a demon," I said to Martrena, who nodded; her being burned at the stake as an evil sorceress, damned in the public's eyes for associating with me, was within the realm of possibility.  Speaking again to Olivia, I murmured, "Still...would you like to bear my young?"

          Was I too kind, too generous in spelling everything out to the horse, and waiting for her to make the decision for herself?  Some demons would say so...some demons don't have the sense to know to aim the pointy end of a pitchfork away from them.  We're a stolid breed, too often lacking in imagination, and subtlety.  Traits I learned from my mother, may she find peace someday.  Far better, in my opinion, to make Olivia want to have my children, to triumph over win with her, really...and my power would be increased just as well as if I'd simply taken her, to hell (literally) with what the mortals thought, but with less chance of being thwarted.  A raped and impregnated mortal could take her own life--potent though my seed was, it couldn't spawn new life in the dead--but one who wanted what I gave her was another story.

          Besides, I wanted the children to live, if they were conceived; call it part of having a rabbit as my prime avatar, but I wanted to be mother and father to many children, to have them live, be strong, have children of their own, so even if I couldn't stay and be doting parent to them all, I could at least meet my own descendants.

          And I wanted to gain Martrena's trust, and help; which I confess is one reason my heart felt warm and full, seeming to swell to ten times its true size--but far from the only reason, or the greatest--when Olivia said, "Yes."  Then begged her mistress, "Please, may I?  I want this so much..."

          I felt positively giddy when the chestnut-haired ladymage nodded, and am quite sure my grin then was a positively foolish one, sharklike teeth or no.  Still, my cock gave a lurch within Olivia's depths, and she gasped as I began pounding away at her again, my still-flared shaft churning the semen within her, making currents in her distended womb.  "Gods..." came her now-familiar moan.  "I can't hold any more, I'll burst..."

          "Don't worry," was all I said as I started drawing my seed back out of her.  A peculiar part of the makeup of incubi, that ability; no doubt formed to allow us to ravish mortal females (or even mortal males), but leave no...sticky evidence that we'd done so.  Through a combination of magic and muscle-power, accompanied by a peculiar *whoosh* sound, every drop of seed returned to me, more slowly than when it was first expelled, but still faster than if she'd been left to drain on her own.  The feeling for me was orgasmic, my urethra expanding as gallons of milky fluid were pumped back into my testes, to mix with what was still there--and had been produced in the few minutes since my climax--to make the orbs expand, growing to enormous size behind me, eventually landing on the floor with a pair of heavy thumps and becoming larger still, until I could've sat comfortably on them if I'd been so inclined.

          For Olivia, the feeling was even stronger than for me; as I knew from having been the recipient of this sort of treatment.  A good many incubi enjoy this little trick, to the point of spending days, even weeks or months, spewing seed into their partners, drawing it back in, and spewing it all back in along with more seed from their fertile balls, over and over.  Picture a balloon filled, not with water, but a thick cream; now imagine that balloon being sucked dry of all that fluid.  Now imagine the balloon isn't made of rubber, but of flesh, with all the nerve endings of a female's womb, each nerve hundreds of times more sensitive thanks to the magic lacing that same cream.  The suction, as well as my magic, pulled her flesh back taut (as taut as my still hugely-grown, still-pistoning cock would allow) as it had been before I overfilled her.  Again able to stand on her own hooves, she rubbed her almost-flat stomach wonderingly, actually seeming disappointed to be slender once more.

          If not for long.  No longer drawing back my seed--no longer having any in her to draw back--my pre splurted into her again, as I began truly, roughly, manically pumping my hips against hers again, as if I hadn't done this very same thing once before.  The weight behind me didn't hamper me at all, me being well-used to such things happening, even when my testes began glowing, becoming bright as twin moons, my inner sorcery changing their contents in a new way, now.  They grew heavier still, 'til I'd be hard-pressed to move them, but there was no need, as I wound Olivia's tail about my wrist again and held her by the tailbase, thrusting savagely at her again, her tightened womb feeling every thundering blow to its roof--plainly where my seed had been, it was soon to return.

          But with a difference.  When I whinnied in a second climax, and she neighed in the latest of another long series of multiple orgasms, her belly not only swelled, but glowed as my seed was transferred into her again, not as a milky fluid this time, but more as a rich, incredibly dense paste.  Each drop weighed a few pounds, so packed with sperm the augmented mix was, even after the first gallon, Olivia's knees began to buckle; she dropped to the floor before much longer, pulled down by the growing mass of her belly.  I let my orgasm continue 'til perhaps a ton or so of the hyper-fertile seed was in her, much more in density than before though not the same volume, the equine merely looking grossly, incredibly pregnant by then, not like a living ball stuck on the end of my cock.

          Groaning, she stayed on the floor when I jockeyed my shaft out of her with a lewd pop, the altered semen so thick it didn't so much as drip out of her.  "Ugh...too full...too heavy..."

          "Don't worry," I told her as I helped her lay on her side.  "You won't be, for long."  Her eyes opened wide, showing the whites again, as she learned I was right...a movement within her, one that didn't come from me or the settling of the extreme load she bore, startling her.  "I'm greedy, you see," I murmured, combing her mane back with my fingers as her belly swelled more, losing its moonlike glow gradually, unaccountably becoming lighter as the new lives within made use of the excess I'd pumped into her.  "Your later foals will have another midwife," I went on, carressing her newly-swelling abdomen with a hand.  "But this first set...I insist on greeting once they're born."

          What happened next likely seemed to take forever to her, an unbelievably short time to the onlookers...about an hour, really.  Giving her my hand to grip, I scooted down between her spread legs while Martrena let her fellow equine lean against her, keeping Olivia at a slight angle so gravity would help when the babes were ready to be born.  From this perfect vantage, I watched as the plowhorse's belly grew larger yet, shifting a bit with the forming lives inside her, the dense seed I'd pumped into her making a fine repast for the developing hellhorses, letting them grow at what would otherwise be an impossible rate.  There'd still be enough left over to impregnate her anew, multiple times, even if I didn't plan to fuck her several more times before I left...and I did.  Those sperm, while not immortal as I was (they came from my body, but each was still only a single tiny cell, after all, not enough to them for whatever makes me immortal to take hold), could still live on inside her--and do what they were made for, as soon as they found a fertile egg to fuse with--for a good seventy or eighty years, perhaps even more with luck, probably longer than the horse herself would live.

          The swelling of Olivia's belly finally ceased, and she moaned, quickly beginning to sweat, perspiration steaming in the chill air of the room.  Where I was, I had a perfect view as her cuntal lips swelled, then parted, her cervix framed by them as it flowered open, letting loose a gush of fluids that spilled out onto the floor.  Then, nose-first, a small head came into view, sliding with the rest of its body out the birthing canal, luckily still well-stretched by me, enough so that it was an oddly quiet birth, a lot of the pain Olivia might otherwise have felt eased.  I played 'catcher' as best I could with one hand still in the horse's grip, catching first one body, tearing the caul that covered it with my claws, then letting the hungry little one fasten to one of my breasts while I eased the next's passage, and then the next, and the last one soon after.  I placed that one, and one other that I detached from one of my lower breasts, in their mother's arms to suckle at breasts already swollen and engorged with milk, letting them be snuffled and licked by the proud (and exhausted) mama.

          Smiling happily, I let the two I kept suckle at my upper breasts, knowing already that they were perfectly-formed, having done the usual visual survey all fathers do--seeing that they had ten fingers, two hooves...immature cocks and ballsacs nestled above their young vaginas, though one that Olivia nursed took after her, lacking male parts, being wholly female.  "Not unicorns?" Martrena broke into my reverie, making the statement a question as she sat behind me.

          "No, they are," I answered, turning one small dappled reddish-furred head without breaking its purchase on my nipple, showing the small bulge on its forehead.  "The horns will develop later...I'm not sure when, puberty perhaps, but when they're older."  I grinned.  "No point in their jabbing holes in their mother while still in the womb, is there?"

          "I suppose not," the Lady of the household murmured, petting one of the little ones.  I suddenly became aware of all the onlookers again, a good many watching Martrena, Olivia, the infants, and particularly me...but somehow it didn't matter as much anymore, I didn't feel self-conscious.  "You care about them, don't you?" the chestnut mare asked suddenly.

          I had no reason to ask what 'them' she meant.  "Why shouldn't I?  I wish I could stay to help raise them," I sighed, "but your world's sorcerors might destroy them to get to me...they're still mine, for all that I might never see them again.  Which is a pity...but in any case, I don't love their mother, and there's no use in her being in a loveless relationship with me.  I think they'll not lack for love and attention, here."

          "Love?  That's a strange thing to hear..."

          Glancing her way, I asked, "It is?"

          "'s not the sort of thing one expects to hear a demon talk about..."

          Chuckling, I kissed the forehead-lump of one of the foals, provoking a pleased sound somewhere between a whicker and a mew.  "You mortals have strange opinions of us...true, we're evil, we do things that can be horrific...but that doesn't mean we're all vile.  Some of us are," I admitted, "but then, so are some mortals."

          Martrena nodded, then thought for a moment or two.  "More forces for chaos, then?"

          "I suppose...yes," I decided.  "I like that.  Forces for chaos..."

          "I think you're practically a force of nature all by yourself," the mare told me, and I giggled.  She seemed to decide something, herself, right then.  "All right...tell me your proposition, and while I can't promise anything...I definitely can't promise I'll ever love this Master of yours...we'll see what we shall see."


          --TO BE CONTINUED

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