How NOT to Summon a Demon


Lesson Five:  In dealing with a summoned demon, do nothing that would give the creature any power over you.  This includes bargaining, and compromising.  Particularly compromising.  Demons are creatures of mischief and magic, guile and deceit.  Compromising with a demon, no matter how amicable the arrangement may seem, is asking to be compromised.


          Long since back in my bunny avatar, I woke up after four or five hours' sleep--more than I usually needed, really--with that lovely muzzy-headed almost-overslept feeling, to find myself in a tangle of bodies, my head pillowed on a pair of soft, fur-covered breasts, the hands of a good many other femmes of various races still clinging to me, even while their owners' slept, my shaft still buried in the cleft of one, while the fingers of another only now slipped from my own female sex...if a demon could ever know what Heaven was like, I knew it then.

          Not much would be needed to make the feeling complete, and luckily, one helpful addition wasn't too far away, within crawling distance after I extricated myself from my slumbering cock-cozy and picked my way over to her.  Maris, the otter I had 'gifted' back in the bar where I met Martrena, and a frequent visitor to the equine's harem (as I had been delighted to learn the night after my arrival, there), stirred when I grasped her new endowment, playing my fingertips over the prodigious length of it.  She had hardened in her sleep, perhaps thanks to some wonderful dream of the night before, and became even more firm when my paw gripped her about the base, squeezing her partly-swollen knot.  I wasn't sure if otters had such structures on their members, but Maris liked the oversized dog's-cock I gave her, so I left it alone when I made her gifting permanent.  "Well, hello there," the mustelid murmured, smiling down at me across the length of her body.

          "Good morning," I returned brightly, rubbing my cheek-fur against her maleness.  "It's a lovely morning...I hope you don't mind if I secure 'breakfast' for myself?"  I punctuated my words with a lick at a pearl of precum that dripped from her tip.

          " really are insatiable...but please, be my guest."  She reached down, feeling the weight of her ballsac.  "I don't know what you did when you made these for me, but I swear they always feel full..."

          "Just gave you a taste of a demon's potence," I churred, then lapped at her again.  "Only a small taste...more, and you might not be able to keep up, drain them fast enough.  They'd never burst, I'm a better crafter than that to let that happen, ever, no matter how they grow," I fondled one grapefruit-sized orb as I spoke, hefting the four or five pounds of it, feeling it start to slowly swell larger already.  "But walking around with your sac dragging the ground all the time, the orbs within as large as you are and a few times heavier...might be cumbersome, no?"

          She laughed.  "It might.  Hard to swim then, too...oh!" she gasped as my muzzle closed about her bell, and I slurped her the rest of the way in, 'til my nose was pressed against her crotch-fur, her knot trapped in my muzzle, deftly relaxing my throat to encompass her...she was as long as my forearm and a trifle thicker than my wrist already, but well within my ability to handle.  "Can't believe how...easily you do that," she gasped, arching her back.  "Oh...n-no more time to chat, got it...don't haAAAH-have to say a word, j-just keep *eep!* keep doing what you're doing..."

          Chuckling around my throat-full, I fondled her growing sac, the stretchable rings of my throat tightening and loosening rhythmically around her expanding girth.  Perhaps it's a taste I acquired during...extracurricular activities during my schooling, when I went to classes at some times with succubi, at others with incubi (my dual nature caused some scheduling difficulties, as one might expect, since they couldn't file me in just one group), but there was something about feeling a member grow, and grow, and grow inside whatever of my orifices...  I made ready to pinch a pressure-point I knew well, in fact, to keep Maris from climaxing before I'd had my fill, literally; unlike an incubus, she had little control over her member's magical features, and would only keep growing until she orgasmed.

          Which wouldn't take long, under my expert ministrations, particularly when I curled my tongue around and around her, spiralling it about her length and squeezing it firmly--experts in other times would learn that the tongue is the single strongest muscle the body has, and mine was hardly an exception--even going so far as to lap at the precum streaming freely from her tip, far down in my gullet.  "Ohhhh...I LOVE YOUR TONGUE!!  Mmmmm...I hope you do get to stay, here...I'd love to stay with a servant, part of your harem...heh, you'd have to have a harem...what single fur could keep up with you...oh, keep doing that, yes..."

          With another chuckle, and a thought that I'd certainly keep her in mind, if such things turned out to be possible (that was in the hands of my summoner, after all, who I hoped would free me after I did his bidding, but I couldn't say for sure), I did keep doing 'that', the paw I'd snuck behind her ballsac fingering her clitoris, and delving three fingers into her yoni, stroking her inner folds with a knowing touch.

          "That's with both sides of me...oh, that feels so nice...oh!"  I blinked, as that last 'oh' sounded different than the rest.  "What's happening?  You're fading!"

          Blinking again, I reluctantly removed her from my mouth, and looked at myself; sure enough, my crimson fur seemed muted, now, and while I seemed all right from the waist up, my hooves looked insubstantial, ghostly, that partly-transparent effect slowly crawling its way up my legs.  I nodded grimly.  "Only one thing it could 'Master' is impatient.  Give my regards and apologies to Martrena, please, when she awakens...and when you do, since I'm not leaving on an empty stomach..."

          So saying, I swallowed her shaft again, to the root once more, and sucked her HARD.  Vacuum cleaners wouldn't be invented for a good many years yet, but that's surely how Maris felt, as if her maleness was jammed into a vacuum cleaner hose with the motor set at overdrive.  A cry tore itself from her as she arched her back again, flexible otter's-spine bending almost double, her thick tail thumping against the floor like a dog's, her inflated testes likely feeling as if they might soon pass right up her urethra and into my mouth.  I did more than just suck, though, my paws finding certain nerves at the base of her shaft, and at her back near where her spine united with her tail, using those pressure points to help bring her off with lightning speed.

          Seconds later, she screamed, waking up most of the sleepers in the room, her back unbending suddenly and drawing straight, shuddering violently as her seed rocketed into my waiting belly, filling it nicely.  And barely in time.  I was only just solid enough to withdraw her from my lips and catch her few last spasms on my chin and chest as she passed out from the furious orgasm, then wave to the startled watchers as I faded completely from view.

          Manifesting in the now-familiar confines of my Master's lair, in the pentagram he created for me, I covered my mouth as I yawned and looked around, seeing nothing different...not that I expected any sweeping changes.  The fox seemed a bit too unimaginative for that, really.

          "Long night?" the unimaginative one asked, breaking into my reverie.

          Giving a shrug that I transformed into a languid, back-popping stretch, arms in the air, I churred, "Long, but enjoyable..."  He nodded, while looking at the streamers of otterseed I wore, and at my erect member, twitching at my crotch and dribbling precum onto the floor.  Holding up a hand, one finger upraised, to forestall any comments, I went on, "Also profitable.  I think we have a solution that I hope will do for all involved."

          "Oh?" he said, then frowned.  "'We' have a solution?"

          "Martrena and I.  Oh, don't look so surprised!  You didn't wish her to be harmed, and I had no need to harm her in any case.  So I didn't harm her, I spoke with her.  You're lucky you got me when you cast your net into the netherworld, actually, searching for an incubus and getting me instead.  Most incubi would lack the subtlety required here.  And I know of no incubus who would stoop to negotiating with a mortal...t'is unheard of, the very idea!"  I giggled.  "But then, I'm no mere incubus."

          He agreed with that, of course; naked from hooves to eartips as I was, my four firm breasts prominently displayed, there was little doubt that I wasn't simply a male demon.  Despite the undeniable maleness throbbing with my pulse as it leaked milky fluid onto the floor.  "So...if I understand you, you negotiated with her...and she's willing to meet with me, is that it?"

          "After a fashion."  Sitting down cross-legged on the floor, hemmed in on all sides by the power of the wards, cocktip nearly touching the barrier in front of me, I leaned back on my arms.  As comfortable as I could get, in the confines.  "It's more of a compromise.  One that will require sacrifices from you if it's to work.  Are you game?"

          Frowning again, he put his paws on his hips, making his robes gap open...and revealing one thing I had wondered about.  "What sacrifices?"

          "Two, is all, I think...two that I know of, at least, any more will be between the two of you.  I'm not sure which will be the greatest...anyway.  One, you can't be as husbands and wives seem to be in this time.  Martrena will never be your chattel, your slave.  Hers is a dominant personality, and she has a terror of being a slave, to a stallion or to any other male.  So, in order for her to accept you, she'll have to be the one to take the dominant role."

          "In other words..."  The fox licked his lips, as if they were dry.  "I become her slave."

          "Not necessarily, or not completely...she'll merely--"

          He stopped me with an upraised paw.  "Far better to be her slave than to live without her."  He laughed then, the first genuine merriment I'd heard from him.  "Far better.  You think I don't know how she is, what she is?  I know of her stable of women in town, I could hardly miss hearing of that scandal.  I..."  He hesitated, then pressed onward, "I envy them, all of them.  They're slaves to a Mistress I wish were mine..."

          Whooping, I sat straight, resting my paws on my knees as I giggled, more at myself than at him.  Not that I let on that I was the subject of my gaiety, not him.  "I would never have known...that does make things easier, yes.  Very well, one real sacrifice, then."  I aimed a glittering fingerclaw at him.  "If Martrena is to accept you, it won't be as you are *now*.  I fear the lady isn't just afraid of being a slave to a male, she isn't attracted to them; so a male you can't be.  Ever again."

          He shuffled his feet uncertainly, which made his robe open farther, revealing even more of himself.  And what began to rise, my powerful pheromone-tainted scent working on his libido.  "I'd have to be a vixen?"

          "Not exactly...or not completely."  I nodded toward his hugely-grown phallus, which seemed almost to nod back as it bobbed up and down in half-erection, his equally-sizeable balls swelling slightly before my eyes.  "You'd have the breasts and sex, and certainly the body, of a vixen...but you'd be keeping that."  At a sudden thought, I added, "Which I'm surprised you still have.  You couldn't shrink it back down after I altered it?"

          "I...didn't try very hard."  The inner surfaces of his ears reddened with a blush.  "I didn't try, really.  I found I...liked having so much, down there, for a while, anyway, so I left it alone to go away on its own.  It was a temporary spell you used."

          Mentally tallying up a point for him--and his magical senses, which evidently discerned that, since I didn't recall telling him--I nodded again.  "Then you can enjoy having it permanently.  I'll remember to strengthen your back-muscles to make carrying that, and any new burdens," I put a paw under my right lower breast, and hefted it, "up top, more easy."  Staunchly resisting the natural urge to lick my lips, fidget, or do anything else that would show nervousness, I played my trump card:  "Assuming you give yourself to me, and allow me to change you into what Martrena would desire.  And what I see you desire yourself, whether you admit as much to yourself or not."

          "You can...of course you can," he corrected himself.  Any idiot of a half-trained mage would know that a succubus or incubus could transform her/himself into others' fantasies, and could transform others, as well.  It was part of what made us so desireable, and so able to tempt mortals into sin, our ability to alter them into their own fondest desires...and often make them wish they'd never had such desires, it's true.  Whatever my 'Master' might be, he was neither an idiot nor half-trained, even I had to admit that.  "That is asking a lot.  You'd be the perfect one to change me...  But what assurances do I have, that I can trust you?"

          "My solemn vow, on pain of discorporation, that I'll not do anything to harm you, or Martrena, or anyone connected with either of you in any way.  Even a demon has to obey such a I'm sure you know."  He nodded, and I continued.  "As assurance that I'll change you *only* in such a way that it will make you luscious to your lady-love--*only!*--" I repeated, more firmly, for emphasis, "--you'll not be changed in mind or soul, I'll not have power over you in any way, only the lingering traces of my magic that I can do nothing about will be there to show that you weren't born in the form you'll wear...for that, I wish a boon.  The bargain will seal the pact between us."

          Openly suspicious, for which he could hardly be blamed, he asked, "What boon?"

          This was it.  Time to succeed, or fail.  "I want to stay here.  In your world.  There's more chances here for new experiences, new chances to learn new pleasures, to add to my power among mortals and demons than I'd ever have at home.  A year here would be worth a hundred in the Nether Realms.  And I must admit I want to find that delectable bunny you 'sacrificed' to me before, share her life, learn what it is to be loved by a mortal.  Give me an eyeblink of an immortal's time, just two hundred years--"

          He shook his head.  "Much too long.  I'll have no part of letting you loose on the world for that long.  Who knows what mischief you could make?"

          Fuming, I protested, "I'm no war demon!  I don't go around razing cities!  My field is temptation and seduction, not destruction.  Most of the mischief I perform, mortals deserve anyway.  One hundred years."  He shook his head again.  In frustration, wishing I had room to get up and stamp my hooves in a circle, I slashed at the ward's shield with my claws, my arm going numb to the shoulder after the *zzzzzt* sound of it was heard...the sensation also helping me gather my thoughts.  "All right...seems I must make sacrifices, too.  Link my fate to Dianella's.  Let me be here for a true eyeblink, the length of Dianella's life.  If she dies--what am I saying?--WHEN she dies, hopefully many years in the future, I go back to my realm."

          From his expression, this astonished the fox-mage.  "You care about her that much?"

          That question stopped me; after a moment, I answered, "I suppose I do..."  Then I shook myself.  "Do we have a bargain?  What harm can I do the world while I'm caring for her, living with her?  It's beyond my power to make her immortal, I might be able to do so someday, but not now, and I won't build up enough strength for that in a mortal's lifespan, not if I guard my powers every moment.  Which I won't, since I still have to live, and I'm too much a pleasure-seeker to not live well, if I can.  And you can be assured I won't do anything to harm Dianella, if you care.  I want her to live a long, productive, happy life, with me."

          "And doing that will help limit the trouble you can cause," he mused, nodding.  "Very well.  I may be a fool for agreeing, but I agree.  You can have your love...provided I can gain mine.  First things..."  He spoke a few words, and the circle around me vanished.  I got up and stretched, grateful for the room to do so...but looked around, able to sense the larger ward, still around the entire room.  "I know," he spoke before I could.  "That will have to be lowered before you can go to work on me.  But first, make your vow, on pain of discorporation, you will not cause harm to Martrena or myself, or anyone connected with either of us.  Until you make your vow, binding by the mystical laws of this world and your own, we go no further."

          I chuckled; no, the mage was not an idiot.  Kneeling, then sitting down on my hooves, arms outstretched and lowered symbolically in supplication to...lower powers than those mortals normally beseeched, I vowed, in both the language gleaned from my summoner's mind when I was brought to this world, and in the harsh tones of my own.  Vows are a very real thing, for a creature of magic.  If I broke my word, I wouldn't just die--death didn't exist, for an immortal, at least not as it did for a mortal, as an ending; if I died, at worst I would go back home to what so many called Hell, perhaps being effectively out of action for a few years or so until my soul regained enough strength to regenerate a new body and come back--but when discorporated, I would no longer exist, my consciousness forever gone, no trace of me remaining, anywhere.  If I live to be a million centuries old, I might possibly become so jaded and morose I might wish to discorporate; at a paltry one or two thousand years, my approximate age then, barely an infant in elder demons' eyes, I had far too much to live for.

          Satisfied, the mage did his part, first speaking an incantation to bind my time here in his world to Dianella's life, his and Martrena's coming together in love the proviso to make the magic work (meaning, if they made a lovely couple, I'd stay, if not, back home I would go); and only then--canny fox, this--releasing the ward around the room.

          His Adam's Apple moved up and down when I approached him, my phallus leading the way of course.  Smiling as gently as I could, I churred, "Nervous?"

          He shook his head emphatically...and then nodded more slowly.  "A little..."

          Nodding myself, I gripped his shoulder with one paw, treating him as I might a blushing virgin I planned to lure onto my cock.  "Only natural...we'll go slow to start, all right?"  Thinking this was almost too much like seducing a virgin, I used a small bit of magic (now that mine was unfetterred by wards and spells of his) to conjure up a feathersoft mattress, then directed him to lay down on it while I did the same.  An unnecessary trapping, I'd coupled with mortals and immortals on worse surfaces, but why not ease the way when I could?  "Best we start by infusing some of each other's essence...t'will make the magic easier, if we resonate in that way.  And it should also relax you, make accepting what happens to you easier.  I'll start," I offered, giving his member a hungry look as I leaned toward it.

          Only to have him drag it away from me with a squawk.  "Don't--"

          Blinking, I tilted my head to one side quizzically.  "What?  You know I can't harm you, my oath is given..."

          In answer, he pointed at me--or toward my muzzle, rather.  "What about those?"

          Frowning, I put a paw to my mouth--and felt the edges of my fangs.  "Oh, those," I laughed.  "'Those' are no trouble at all."

          "I'm not so sure about that," he told me, still keeping that precious overgrown part of himself pointed elsewhere.

          Smirking, knowing the best way to calm his fears was to demonstrate, I put out a paw, palm up.  "Give me your hand."  When he hesitated, I growled, "It's your hand or your cock, and I'd rather not try that while you still think I'm going to destroy that beautiful thing.  What a waste that would be.  Give me your hand."

          Still reluctant, he nonetheless did as I ordered, and I brought his paw to my mouth.  Then, provoking a gasp from him, opened my mouth very wide, effortlessly unhinging my jaw as a snake might--also giving him an uncomfrotably-vivid view of an arsenal of razor-sharp teeth a shark might envy, but there was nothing I could do about that--I stuffed my muzzle full of fox-paw.  And didn't stop there.  While he looked on in disbelief, I gave a *gulp*, swallowing the hand...then the wrist...then the forearm...then the elbow...finally stopping with my lips stretched across his bicep, his fingers deep in the steamy confines of my gullet.  I held him there for a half-minute or so, long enough for him to be very sure that yes, he really did have his fist somewhere deep inside me, then reversed course, pulling him out again, his fur sopping with saliva that sent up wisps of vapor in the cool air.

          Wiping my mouth on the back of a paw, I churred, "So.  Did you feel my teeth even once?"

          Shaking his head, he looked the disgorged limb over as he dried it on his robe.  "Not once.  Felt like you could've swallowed me whole without even trying..."

          I only grinned.  Let him draw his own conclusions.  "I'm only interested in swallowing one part of you now.  Shall we begin again?"

          He nodded, and this time didn't even flinch when I grasped him again, drawing that precious spire to my lips once more, then treated it to the same treatment his arm had received, only this time keeping it locked deep in my throat.  Toes curling, clutching his robe with both paws to get it off a body that surely now felt far too hot, he panted canine-fashion as my heat hit him, though I moderated my natural temperature of course--broiling the fox not being in my plans.  Even if, happily, I wouldn't need to use such care soon, the magic impregnating my spittle (as it did every part of me) already going to work on him, making his flesh tougher, able to withstand the rigors I would soon put it through.

          For a mortal being sucked by a determined succubus, with my throat pulsing expertly around him to milk every inch of his massive length, my serpentine tongue carressing every sensitive spot he had, he lasted an impressively long time.  Three, perhaps even four whole minutes went by before my cheeks bulged with the task of encompassing his knot, and he bucked with enough force to lift me off the mattress for an instant, giving a guttural howl as stream after warm, delicious stream of fox-seed was launched into my belly.  The length of his climax more than made up for the suddenness; I churred dreamily for half an hour or more as he bucked, crying out in helpless lust, that magnificent shaft bucking again and again within me while filling me with an ample meal of his semen, my stomach soon resting on the bed below me, swollen round with the gallons it held.

          It already began to recede even before I pulled my mouth off of him, his semen being digested swiftly by my body, changed into power for the ordeal to come.  I let my meal be fully absorbed--and also let the fox recover--then churred to him, "Your turn now, I think."

          Still slightly breathless, he glanced at me...then, understandably, glanced down at what jutted from my crotch.  "I don't think I'm ready yet for...that."

          Laughing, I shook my head.  "I know you aren't.  Don't worry--haven't I said that already?" I chuckled.  "There are many founts to sample.  And I don't think you'll be too upset by sampling this one."  Getting on all fours, craning my neck to look over my shoulder at him, I positioned myself so my hindquarters were facing him, my teardrop-shaped tail upraised, not that a bunnytail is ever much of an obstacle.  Rarely ever dry, my female sex immediately dampened my thighs with silvery nectar that glowed softly in the dim light of the room, trickling through my fur as it escaped the pouting, reddened lips of my cleft.

          And showed him, without needing words, just what fountain I planned for him to drink from.  He grinned, sitting up, and--as canines will--sniffed me back there before doing anything else.  "Gods you smell wonderful," he murmured; I didn't bother commenting, of course I did, and my pheromones made my odor even more delectable.  He stuck out his tongue, giving me an experimental lick, before jumping, and gazing at me with his tongue still lolling out comically.  Giggling, I nodded encouragement at him; after a moment, he shook off both the effects of my taste (whereas my scent was delightful, my flavor, I knew, was something that had been described as how the nectar of the gods must taste) and the tingling effect of the magic permeating my vaginal fluids--as it did every part of me, of course--and started licking first around me, then inside me, pressing his nose against my tailhole while delving his tongue within me.

          Farther into me than he realized; subtly, I was already changing him, among other things making his tongue like mine, able to extend father than his fox-tongue normally could.  I growled softly, lustily, as he soon lapped at my cervix, then beyond, the entry to my womb soon softening and flowering open to let me be penetrated to my innermost core.  His skill improved greatly without his even realizing it, the tentative, awkward licks soon becoming the strokes of a talented cunnilinguist; I promised not to alter his thoughts, and I didn't, but I said nothing about increasing his sexual talents.

          That skill included keeping up with my nectar's flow as best he could, guzzling it down like he'd been dying of thirst up 'til now.  Not that I made it easy for him, hardly, letting that honey flow and flow, despite his efforts my legs soon covered with it, the four-inch nubbin of my clitoris dripping a steady stream of the stuff, a growing puddle below us both.  Every drop intoxicating in the extreme, addictive even should I choose to exercise that power...though again, getting him 'hooked' on my sexual fluids wasn't part of my deal with him.  Tempting though I'll admit it was, as his greatly-lengthened tongue stroked the tender folds of my womb with ever-growing grace, by now showing an ability for it that some succubi might envy.  Younger ones, at least--my power had its limits, after all.

          Gasping for breath, again not even noticing when the extra feet of length his tongue had gained shrank back into his muzzle, he sat back, looking in amazement at how his whole front was covered in silver from me.  "My lords...I'm full!  *brp*" he belched, looking embarrassed as he covered his mouth, then patted his stomach.  "Someone could drown licking you out..."

          Snickering, definitely unable to resist, I proved him right.  Reaching back, grabbing my clit with one paw to begin rubbing it like a small cock, thrusting the other's fingers into my cleft and stroking myself inside, swiftly bringing myself to a female-side orgasm...and truly letting him have it.  That same silvery fluid first spurted, then poured, then gushed from my folds, spouting out at him as if a hose was buried inside me, burst after burst splattering him, making him raise his arms in defense, sputtering, "Enough!  Guh...stop, stop!"

          Giggling merrily, I did, rolling over to a sitting position, to grin wickedly at him.  "Be glad I'm not like a succubus I knew back home, who loved that sort of thing far too much.  This room would be flooded to the rafters by now."  Tilting my head to one side, letting one ear fall over, I nodded to myself as I looked him over critically.  "I was right.  You'll be lovely once your fur fades completely."

          Blinking, he raised his arms, watching as the nectar covering him vanished, getting absorbed into his body, and his fur indeed lost its color, gradually losing its natural hue in favor of a silvery-white.  His hair lengthened, growing until it nearly reached his waist, gradually shading to something like spun silver, the short hairs surrounding his crotch adopting the same coloration.

          And that wasn't all.  He gasped, eyes staring downward in disbelief, the whites showing around the now-blue irises, as his chest seemed to puff up, pushing forward, the rounded shapes of breasts forming, both capped by widening aerolae that became scarlet-colored while we both watched.

          "Now," I declared, sitting up myself in front of the not-quite-him, not-yet-her, "we'll truly begin."  I slapped the side of my maleness, the hard sound of the crack making his/her gaze snap towards it.  "We'll start, since, my little he-vixen, you're becoming ready for this--"  His/her eyes widened even further as the fox no doubt realized that something new was forming, below that now-whitefurred ballsac of his/hers "--by you losing your virginity."



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