Demon in the sack Pt3
#25 of Shorts
Matt's plan of revenge comes to fruition.
This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this story are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are of legal and consenting age, likewise if you are reading this story you should be of legal age in your respective country.
Matt read and re-read the email from head office, stating that the CEO and his Branch manager required a meeting with him about his unusual appointment as assistant manager. While the position was open, due to his age and duration as an employee his appointment to the post was highly irregular. Rumors started circulating around the office about Matt, his goody two shoes reputation in tatters as it was suggested he and his wife had offered Mr. Rogers sexual favors for the position. Technically they weren't wrong about that aspect, only it hadn't been offered more than requested. Matt's stomach ached with the anticipation of what would happen the following Monday when the CEO arrived.
It was such an irregularity that an entire week had been booked for the interviews and investigations that were to come. Matt squirmed every time one of his colleagues, formerly friends, glared at him as they passed his cubicle. But there was nothing he could do about it except wait and see what would happen. Monday eventually came and with it a hushed stillness fell over the usually buzzing office as the large bull CEO Emmet Fitzgerald stomped his way through the building to the Branch manager Kenneth Willis, an almost equally as large Percheron stallion waited.
"Massy, come!" the bull bellowed as he passed Matt's cubicle, the bovines voice deep and threatening as the glass windows in the offices seemed to vibrate with the force of it. Matt winced as he meekly slipped out of his cubicle and quickly trotted behind the bull to keep pace with him. The door to Kenneth's office being slammed shut and locked, along with the blinds drawn to ensure privacy for their meeting.
"I must say, young man, I am sorely disappointed with what we have uncovered in our investigations. First from how you even got the position, blackmailing a married man? Then weaseling your way into a second married man's pants, well robes it seems in this instance, to get a promotion you had no right to?" The large bull fumed as he paced back and forth while the large horse sat silently, clicking a button on a remote to cycle through different video clips and images of the pig and wolf fucking his wife, as well as him sucking Ralph's cock. Matt didn't know what to say, tears starting to well up in the corners of his eyes as he looked back and forth between the bull and horse, both of whom worse stern expressions as they glared at him.
The horse was the first to crack a grin, starting to laugh and soon the bull joined him and clapped a large hand painfully against Matt's shoulder. The stag looking more confused than ever as he waited for someone to clue him in on the joke, after a few moments of laughter the horse was the first to speak.
"That's one smoking hot wife you got yourself there, Matt. We're very glad that you're not the type to keep her to yourself" Mr. Willis stated with a malicious grin, again Matt felt that familiar sinking feeling beginning to grow.
"Damn straight, son. We'd have to hate to rescind your promotion, but Mr. Willis and I have decided that we can look the other way this time, provided you...introduce us to that lovely wife of yours" the bull chimed in with an equally as malicious grin. "We just so happen to have a week blocked off for our...in depth investigations."
Felice snarled at the large bull and stallion as they entered her bedroom with a meek looking Matt in tow. She'd been informed of the situation and had prepared herself for the inevitable which was now standing before her. Two large eager males already rubbing their crotches at the sight of the nude vixen waiting at the edge of her marital bed for them. Matt being made to sit in the corner of the room as the two large males began undressing before moving to stand before his wife. Each guiding one of her hands to their crotches, taking turns in grinding her face against their swelling lengths. Felice wouldn't have time to pass scathing commentary this time as the two eager males roughly forced her muzzle down over one and then the other shaft, stretching out her throat even more than the wolf had.
The bull and stallion took turns in slapping their saliva and precum slicked cocks against the vixens face while she sucked the other. Occasionally grinding her snout against the large dangling balls, rubbing their strong musk into her fur which only made her growl louder. Much like before, Felice was face fucked by both large studs until she swallowed one load and got a messy facial by the other, getting cum in her strawberry blonde hair not sitting well with her.
Not that she could complain as she was hoisted off her feet and tossed onto the bed, the horse straddling her chest as he slapped his softening cock between her tits and roughly squeezed them down around his shaft, beginning to rock back and forth as he worked himself back to stiffness. Down below the bull gripped behind her knees, lifting and parting her thighs before slapping his still hard cock against her little slit, nudging his blunt tip between her folds and snorting in delight at the tightness he felt there. His strong hips flexed and bucked, sheathing his shaft inside the vixen with a pained yelp as he stretched her even more than the wolf had. Little care shown for her as he quickly began bucking and thrusting into the smaller vixen, rocking her body along the bed and helping the horse fuck her tits.
No sooner had the bull rammed home between her thighs, battering against her inner barrier and flooding her with a hot messy load than the horse was hard again. Swapping places as the stallion lifted her legs up high and wide before sheathing himself back into her sloppy cunt while the bull flopped his softening messy shaft between her tits. Only this time Felice was told to press her breasts together around his cock as he gripped her hair and pulled her muzzle forwards, wanting to feel her kiss and lick his shaft as he stroked himself back to fullness.
By late that evening as the horse was slowly withdrawing his spent cock from under a barely conscious Felice's tail, he turned to grin at Matt whom had sat quietly in the corner watching his wife get fucked every which way by two massive cocks for hours. The horse reached over to pat Matt on the shoulder as he smugly said "That was a good start to the week, see you tomorrow, same time" before leaving with a laugh after getting dressed.
The rest of the week proceeded much the same, Felice being used and abused by the two large males. Most evenings ending looking like a glazed doughnut, her once snug orifices gaping and leaking their seed. But by the second to last day the two studs seemed to be worn out, looking almost gaunt and worn out from all the fucking no doubt. By the last day they barely managed one climax a piece before calling it quits and heading home to rest.
Matt returned to a shocked office as people read the death notices of one Mr. Emmet Fitzgerald and one Mr. Kenneth Willis, their emaciated bodies found lifeless in their beds over the course of the weekend. The cause of death had not yet been determined, but foul play was suspected and investigations would be conducted.
Matt grinned as he clipped the news article out of the paper and placed it over a framed picture of his young parents standing outside the house they'd just purchased to raise their family in.
In the beginning
As was becoming more common these days Matt found himself wandering through the forests behind his family's farm house, he couldn't stand the constant fighting of his parents. Things were tough, the bank turned a deaf ear to their pleas and cared little how bad the seasons had been resulting in low crop yields. They still hiked the rates up, making it near impossible for the Massy's to hold onto their family home. Matt was old enough now to know that things were probably not going to improve, if anything they were only going to get worse, especially with rumors of there being some collusion between the bank and another company wanting their land to build an interstate through.
Walking down the banks of the river with his hands in his pockets, the young stag wasn't really paying attention to anything other than the soothing soft gurgles of the river beside him. Every step proceeded with a kick of a flat black stone worn down by who knows how long in the water, the more Matt thought about their predicament, the angrier and angrier he got until with a vicious kick of his hoof, he sent the stone flying over a large rock as he balled his hands into fists, wanting to punch something, anything.
"Thunk!" A hollow wooden sound came from over the boulder, drawing Matt's attention. The curious teenager rounding the rock to see the smooth black stone he'd been kicking sitting atop a small wooden box bound shut with rusty chains and a heavy lock. He'd been along this same route countless times before, so with more than a little trepidation the buck looked around to see if anyone else was about that this box could belong to, but there was no sign anyone else other than he had been here in a while.
Carrying the box under an arm with the heavy chains jingling musically with his every step, Matt made his way home. Walking through the front door and not bothering to stop and let his arguing parents know he was back. He doubted they even knew he'd left a few hours ago, the shouting and screaming still as intense as when he'd left. Heading down to his room in the basement, a choice he'd made as soon as he hit puberty to get some privacy and also a bit more quiet from the folks, Matt set the box down on his desk as he looked around for some tools to get the lock open.
Standing before a rather empty tool rack, Matt sighed as he remembered his father having pawned most of his tools just to make a few extra bucks to get them by. The only thing left was a small pry bar, but it would have to do Matt thought. Grabbing the pry bar, Matt returned to his room and desk, tapping the rusty lock with one end and seeing small flecks of rust spill from the keyhole, he knew there was no chance of picking the lock in this state. Setting the curved end under the lock for maximum leverage, Matt gave a mighty shove down with his entire body weight, but the lock and chains held. The wooden box however did crack under the pressure of the pry bar, but not enough to reveal anything inside. Turning the box about and trying from the other side, Matt gave another shove down with his entire body weight, this time the rusty lock groaned and screeched as the shackle reluctantly began to budge and pull out of the lock body. With sweat forming on his brow, Matt gave another shove against the pry bar, with one final death screech the shackle popped free of the locks body, one ring of the chain slipping off it with a clatter.
Matt carefully unhooked the remaining chains from the old lock and set them aside on his table. Turning the box around, he looked for any hinges to see which way it was meant to be opened. The box was very well made, the hinges barely visible under the lip of the lid, but seeing which way it was meant to open, and Matt turned it the right way around. With his hands on the edges of the lid and lifting it just a fraction, the young stag paused as a moment of doubt washed over him, thinking he heard a whisper coming from somewhere behind him. Turning to look around his room, he was still alone however. Laughing at his own silliness he lifted the lid all the way, exposing an object wrapped in a black silk cloth. His fingers brushed the cloth away to expose a curious black leather bound book with golden text inscribed on it in a language he'd never seen before. As soon as his fingers made contact with the front cover, Matt could tell this was not an ordinary book, feeling a tingle at his fingertips like electricity the stag snatched his hand back and slammed the lid shut before pushing the box under his bed with a kick of his hoof, trying to forget about the book.
Curiosity would grow and eat at the stag, almost as if he could hear the book calling to him from under his bed that night and the following few nights every time he tried to sleep. Eventually the temptation grew to be too much and the stag crawled under his bed to retrieve the box and set it down on his desk once more. Matt sat in his small dimly lit basement pouring over the old musty smelling book, or tome he supposed it would be called after doing some research on such things in his limited school library. Every time he touched the odd leather bound cover, he could feel a strange energy emanating from it, like faint static electricity sparking in the air.
Days and weeks had been spent researching the book, but eventually he had managed to decipher a few pages. It turned out this was a tome of forbidden magic, actual magic and not the parlor tricks celebrity magicians claimed was real magic. He knew the book was real, already having used one of the spells to compel the head cheerleader Cindy to go down on him under the bleachers after school and wiping her memory of the event. He still grinned at the picture of her with his cum on her face after he'd finished, looking much better than the mocking sneer she usually looked at the stag with. That picture alone had been worth all the expensive ingredients to cast the spell, especially as most of the items weren't readily available in his small town.
Many pages had been transcribed through his diligence, but nothing that would save his family home. Most of the spells ranged from resurrecting a lost loved one, to enslaving the weak willed and soft minded, or just outright summoning a demon to haunt and potentially murder an enemy. Matt was not someone that tolerated violence, he hated any form of confrontation and would avoid it at all costs, much to the detriment of his popularity at school. He didn't think there was anything in this world that could get him to stoop to such levels that would result in the death of another person.
All that changed one day a couple years later when Matt was woken in the early hours one morning by a phone call from his mother. Through her broken sobs and anguish wracked voice she informed Matt that his father had taken his own life earlier that evening. The bank had foreclosed on their farm, they'd lost everything and he couldn't take it any longer. Matt numbly thanked his mother for letting him know, sitting on the edge of his bed and staring blankly at a spot on the wall before him until the sun eventually rose and began to peek through his window, the tears running down his face glittering in the early morning light.
The following days were a blur, returning home to help with his father's burial and helping his ailing mother move in with friends until a more permanent solution could be found. A red hot spark of anger burning in the pit of Matt's belly as he took one last look at his family home, now with an almost mocking "Bank Foreclosure" sign posted in the front yard. The spark building and growing steadily over time until it all but consumed Matt, following the men responsible for his families' downfall closely on social media. The pictures of the large bull whom was the bank CEO and Percheron stallion local Branch Manager smiling as they were handed performance bonuses left a sour taste in his mouth knowing those had come at the cost of his father's life.
Matt hadn't forgotten about the strange tome he still had tucked away at the back of his bookshelf, he'd still done a lot of research on it and transcribed nearly the entirety of its contents. Still the only spell that seemed to fit was the demon summoning one, though for what he had planned a very particular demon was required. From resources online and in various dark web chat rooms, Matt had learned that while demons can enter a devil's trap without being aware of its presence, they cannot exit it as long as the trap remains intact. There appeared to be no specific medium required for the trap to work as traps had been drawn in ink, blood, ash, or carved into stone, expressing no preference for one over the other and simply using what works in the summoners current circumstances. Traps could be drawn on the ground below the demon or the ceiling above it, but traps on small objects must be in direct contact with the demon to be effective, such as the demon having to sit on a chair with a devil's trap on it to be confined, or a bullet with a devil's trap on it only effective when the demon has actually been shot with the bullet. Traps can remain intact if an object has fallen over the lines drawn on the ground, or if something is concealing the trap from view, such as a carpet, but they cease to be effective if the trap's lines are broken; methods for doing this vary between scuffing the paint and ash that created the trap to driving a knife into the trap. Higher or greater plane Demons are able to use spells to break the trap from within, but the ability to do this appears to be rare.
It was the line "traps on small objects must be in direct contact with the demon to be effective" which caught Matt's attention and formed the beginning of an idea. Over the following months he would collect the required items to perform the summoning ritual and to proceed with his plan while completing his college courses.
Early one morning, shortly before witching hour Matt began the ritual. The summoning circle drawn out in chalk on the large matt at the center of his lounge. The only light source coming from the five candles placed at the points of the pentagram. The required items placed in the bowl at the appropriate times of the ceremony, the last ingredient being a few drops of Matt's own blood which were freely given as he drew the blade across his palm and clenched his fist over the bowl. At first nothing happened, the air deathly still and silent. First one, then another and another of the candles flames began to flicker and dim, casting an eerie dancing flickering light around the room as a pair of glowing eyes appeared before Matt in the darkness. Slowly rising higher and higher above him, barely able to make out what looked to be horns, a pair of bat like wings extending from the beings back, along with a narrow whip like tail ending in a vicious looking V hook. As the candles flickering began to ease and light returned to the room, Matt found himself staring up at a vision of lust and beauty. A stunning nude vixen stood standing before him with her hands resting at her slanted hips, striking a sultry pose.
"What may I do for you, master?" She asked with a voice so sweet and inviting it could melt the coldest heart, her smile making Matt blush instantly.
"Put this on your left ring finger" Matt stammered after regaining his composure, holding out a simple golden band that glimmered in the light.
The demon halted in confusion at the request, in all her centuries she'd never been given a gift before performing some sort of service. The vixen peered at the young stag skeptically as she held her hand a few inches from his hand offering her the ring. "What's the catch?" she asked, dropping all formality.
"Put it on, or you're never leaving this place" Matt stated simply, flipping up one corner of the large carpet to reveal a grand pentacle etched into the floor beneath her.
"Fucking mages...I swear. Why can't you horny boys just summon us and fuck us like normal people? What weird shit are you going to have me do this time, keep me as a sex slave? You know that's not how this works, as soon as I get your seed, our contract is over and I'm out of here, or the big man downstairs comes up here and tears you a new one!" she bristled at him, her eyes glowing brighter as she spoke.
"I don't want to fuck you..." the stag stated simply, staring up into her glowing eyes. The honesty in his voice caught the vixen by surprise, he wasn't even looking at her bare breasts which was quite a feat given how supernaturally perky they were.
"Then what the fuck do you want, limp dick?" she snarled at the stag still kneeling before her, clutching his bleeding hand.
"Revenge" Matt replied, clearly not what she was expecting as the vixen stared back at him with raised brows, her curiosity peeked.
Reluctantly the vixen slipped the ring on her finger after a few moments of agitated pacing within the boundaries of the grand pentacle while Matt watched closely. Once the ring was slipped in place the grand pentacle would be broken using the same knife he'd cut his palm with to scar the floor and break the grand pentacle lines. As he expected her to, the vixen raised her arms and began to laugh as she stated "See you later, sucker!" thrusting her hands downward as if to return to whence she'd come from. But nothing happened, even after she tried a second time before the glint of the golden ring caught her eye. Growling as she gripped the ring and tried to remove it, but it wouldn't budge, that was when she took a closer look at the small markings on the ring.
"Oh you sneaky mother fucker, you Fifth pentacled me?" she laughed, shaking her head at Matt. Raising her fist and trying to give him a punch to the side of his muzzle, but her fist stopped less than an inch from touching his fur with a frustrated growl.
"As I understand it, the Fifth Pentacle of Mars description states that 'It is terrible unto the demons, and at its sight and aspect they will obey thee, for they cannot resist its presence'. Good to know the website was correct" Matt stated as he rose to his feet and moved over to his bed and collected some clothing he'd bought for the occasion. "Get dressed, we've got work to do" he stated while handing the vixen the clothing, to which she reluctantly obeyed while calling the stag every curse under the sun she'd learned in her long lifetime.
A succubus is a demon or supernatural entity in folklore, in female form that appears in dreams to seduce men, usually through sexual activity. According to religious traditions, repeated sexual activity with a succubus can cause poor physical or mental health, even death. In modern representations, a succubus is often depicted as a beautiful seductress or enchantress, rather than as demonic or frightening.