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Summon

By Laz Briar

It was said when Shady Vale was built in the heart of autumn, the founders converged in one place and married the ethereal with reality. The roads, they said, formed geometrical patterns beckoning the unknown, allowing spirits to wander the paths of mortal-kind. But why?

Well, a good story made for better tourism.

Not once did Terrance buy into it, though. What was he, twelve? Yeah, sure, it made for great Halloween stories but, demons walking around like nobody's business? Honestly. That was just silly. Forefathers creating a town for spirits. . .

“You know they could summon succubi too, right?"

And there it was. His classmate, Ogelby Thorpe, a rotund dog obsessed with occult, anime, and really bad metal was the reason for this quest. This belief of the beyond.

“The hell are you talking about?" Terrance had asked, much to the irritation of their English teacher.

After class, Ogelby filled him in. “Dude, they weren't trying to summon ghosts, they were trying to summon demon wives n' shit. Like. I dunno like eternal sex demons or something. There's a book on it, I swear."

Yeah, okay, that's when you knew your friend was binging too much Black Heart: The OVA.

“Cool. A book no one's heard about," Terrance had said.

“No dude, I swear. It's like magic though. It appears in the library, but only like, at really specific times or something."

Well, Terrance did the sensible thing, which was laugh at his friend, ask about homework, and then meet him later after lunch. Then, he did the not sensible thing. He went looking for the book. Why? Well, goddammit, what else was he gonna' do? He was young, full of hormones, and girls were really looking good these days.

He wasn't too great with ladies though. Or, at all. Chimera were especially scary to him. Gorgeous, sure, but how were you supposed to talk to a goth bunny girl? Or that really promising starter for the Demons, the Labrador girl? Shit! He even knew a squirrel with tits as big as his head!

Okay, well “knew" in the sense he ogled her during gym. And regular girls? Oh forget it. It was impossible. He had enough issues fighting wet dreams and daydreaming about big tits and solving Mr. Marlack's impossible philosophy question about the “the nature and impact of human and chimera literature." Making a fool of himself in front of a bunch of giggling girls wasn't going to help.

But, hey. A succubus, that was something, right? That could solve all his problems, like, forever. He didn't own a fancy car or have a high paying job so he wasn't exactly prime market material. He wasn't old enough for strip clubs. Half the time he had to hide his porn from nosey parents. So dammit, if a magic book existed with the power to give him control of a sex demon, then it had to be worth it.

Or maybe it was just another way to sell tourists on Shady Vale. I mean, heck, he'd visit a town if there was some kind of brothel filled with demoness strippers.

The thoughts infested his mind, leading him off track. He no doubt looked like a weirdo, constantly scanning the shelves of the school library for a sign of this eldritch compendium. God, there were so many of them. Books. Shady Vale High sported an immense library, at least three floors of donations highlighting various fields of literature. Some were historical classics, others were contemporary works by recent chimera authors. That was great and all, but it meant Terrance was passing through volumes of titles, all of which started to blur together.

What was this thing gonna' look like, anyway? Oh, assuming it was real. Ogelby could've made it all up, of course, as the kid was often marrying his fanfiction with reality at times. But, in the same breath, there was a kernel of potential to it. Shady Vale did have a mysterious group of founders, three of which were nameless and the others buried in unmarked graves. Some of the older folks, too, liked to say “don't go around the Hills on Halloween." Did that random trivia mean his book was around? Not exactly – but if they bothered to drill it in your head in elementary, the knowledge had to be worth something, right?

Thanks, creepy grandparents. Whatever. It just meant, yes, perhaps there was a text containing the phrase to conjure a demon. But if failing that, maybe Terrance could find some sketch porn of like, a devil woman? Some of that old-school stuff was nice. People had to get creative back before the internet, he figured.

Wow, imagine mailing oodles of sketches to some guy in Wetherby, he thought, amusing himself. Yeah, imagine. Imagine also finding this damn book!

The two top sections of the school's index provided nothing. There were lengthy tax record compendiums for defunct businesses, but no sign of this promising text. The study books, biology books, and books about the mating practices of deep arctic shrimp were the other articles of intrigue, something only the miniature lovers would like.

After a while, he was ready to give up. He already spent half-an-hour looking for it. He could've just gone home and checked out the hottest trending vid on FurHub, or something. Yet, as he descended another staircase, down to the lower section of the library, a resurgence of interest compelled him on. Not from dedication, just, something else. Like a little whisper.

A thought flashed through his mind. A succubi, forced into reality, all buxom and curvy with breasts he could totally get lost in. Heck yeah. Maybe he just needed to be patient.

Maybe.

Huh. Weird. Did he think that? Yeah, he did. Or did he? What the hell? Who was talking? Nobody. Was he talking? The hell?

He shook his head. He wandered past another row of blank spines, his mind twirling. Something was going on. His thoughts were his own, but not. As if they were placed there. Another image of a succubi bounced through his brain, and this time, she had a silhouette, a vision clearer. Strange.

His mind was so shackled to the concept of getting lucky with a probably-fictional entity, he didn't even realize where he was. Standing, yes, but in a corner of the lower library he never bothered to check. Granted, he wasn't some nerd! Even though he and his friend watched the latest ripped subs of the latest episode in Isshin Sensui and he still collected Gathering of Magic, these books? No way, not a nerd, nope. He had no reason to check them out, no reason to bother with this part of the school.

Yet, here he was. Surrounded by books utterly ancient. He could tell how old they were, even without opening them, from their yellowing paper and loosening binds. The scent of acid and dust clung to the air and light barely touched them. Well, if the portal to summoning creatures from another realm was anywhere, it had to be here.

Without titles or any formal names, however, it was difficult to understand which tome was the one he sought. If it was there at all. He tapped his foot, like it might summon an answer.

His finger started to trace over the racks of texts, wondering. Again, the unusual sensation of guidance tugged at him. A soundless whisper, a silent voice. Was his imagination getting the better of him? Huh, maybe.

Maaaybe.

His fingers continued, and then halted. There, amidst book bindings drained of their color was another nameless spine. Yet, upon discovery, Terrance couldn't look away. It compelled him to stare, to stay. But why this one? What made it special? The answer was absolutely nothing. It was as bland and lifeless as the others. But still, his digits pressed on it as though attempting to access a code. The binding was strange, reciprocating his touch with an almost leathery sensation, like it were made of silky skin.

He pulled it free, staring at it. The damn thing was huge for an old book, fatter than some of his textbooks. Intrigued, he pulled it open.

“The fuck. . ."

What it met his eyes was a blaspheming scramble of tiny words scattered together in a syntax utterly incomprehensible. The iconography was a horrid mixture of logographic symbols and alphabetic icons, save it wasn't English. Or any language, not that he could recognize. He fucking knew what a complex mess Kanji script could look like, but this? This was like the craft work of some drugged out homeless man trying to summon a devil.

It was perfect.

This had to be it. Terrance flipped through the pages, met with additional towers of text. More so, the words squirmed at him, peeling at his thoughts, like an intangible claw attempted to drag him in. His sight began to distort and sweat patterned his brow. His breath labored, and arms weighty. What the hell was this? Flipping through the pages, his eyes scanned for something of use, until he encountered a series of pages drowning with etchings akin to a thing profane.

He shut it, in fear of them and perhaps he might be discovered. If anything, this had to be the book. Or, maybe the combination of century old dust and weird paper used to make it had a weird effect on you, idiot.

He chastised his thought. No way. Nobody sane wrote like that, and since when did dust make you hear voices? Better yet, what kind of nightmare bible dwelled in the forgotten corner of a school library? Shady Vale was a weird place, but this hinted at something, well, demonic.

Well, it was this or nothing. In haste, he went to the librarian (though picked up a few other random books so as to avoid suspicion) and readied for home. A giddiness overtook him, though also mixed with the blossoming sense of dread. He wasn't superstitious, and he thought ghost stories were dumb. You could find scarier stuff online, easily.

But this? The prospect of ripping a sex demon from the confines of an unknown reality was enticing. And terrifying. What realm was he tapping into? What foul powers dared he coerce to submit to the will of a young mortal? The weight of that hung on him, and all throughout his walk home, the gentle chatter of whispers plagued him like a cloud of flies. Was he hearing voices now? Going crazy? Or were those his own thoughts supercharged by caffeine and uncompromising teenage libido?

After he got home, luck favored him. He was alone. Dad was likely getting his sister from soccer practice and mom probably had a few last-minute things to do at her office. It gave him maybe an hour to fuddle around with his new acquisition.

Rushing upstairs, he unpacked his things. In typical phone-addict fashion, he scrolled through his device for a few last-minute notifications. Nothing major. Ogelby sent him a few dick joke messages and one of his ecchi gachapon games was alerting him to “refill" his “crystals." Well, if all this worked out, no more making secret purchases to 2D sort-of boobs. He'd have the genuine article. It would just, you know, belong to a demon.

At once, he pulled free the abyssal book and crashed into its confounding pages. Again, the endless scrawl of unrecognizable syntax met his gaze, a labyrinthian language concocted by god knew what. It hurt just to scroll through, flicking his mind with a soft headache. Hmm. Maybe he needed some ambiance?

He booted up his PC and looked around on YouView. Something Satanic music something? Maybe it would help the succbi feel comfortable. Like, 'hi, welcome to my chamber, sex demon, I put on this romantic ambiance for you. Now suck my dick.' That's how it worked, right?

He found a volume of selected dark tracks and let it play, filling his room with echoing bass and empty chimes. Haunting. In the meantime, he returned to the profane pages, going through each in hopes he could discover some ancient secret to solve his horny problem. What was he even looking for? Some pages appeared to contain drawn symbols and instructions, but they lacked clarity as to what. There was, for instance, a picture of a dog – a regular dog – and underneath a series of numbers drafted on squares. What the fuck did that mean?

Well, some stinky book wasn't about to get the better of him. He had a secret weapon: the internet. With haste, he hopped online and did a search for “summoning a succubus." A lot of. . . strange things appeared. Some dumb, some a little too real. Unfortunately, he had to look at the “little too real" ones.

This, apparently, was a common ask. One result was an archived set of answers on 4board. Anonymous questions met with anonymous answers, most of them insulting the inquirer with a variety of racially charged slurs, conspiracy theories, and an unrelated link about ponies? Hmm. But as he scrolled, ignoring arguments accompanied with image macros, one response stood out:

You need to make an offering to the semon demon first. Usually the portal. Normally that's blood. The purer the blood, the stronger the portal, the better the succubus. I'd recommend your own. Just make a quick cut across your palm and drip it onto the portal. Use ice if you don't want pain.

The rest of the responses were useless. But this one was his best shot, right? It sounded right. God, of course it did, it involved blood. Terrance shuddered. Was he really going to cut himself in hopes he could summon a sex demon which was probably just a big hoax by his dumb friend anyway?

His loins twitched. Yep.

First things first though – finding this portal. If it didn't exist, this was pointless. Again, he attacked the pages with a feverish haste. Strangely, it looked like the contents were changing every time he scanned a page, as if the text was rearranging itself with each flip. Or was he just going crazy? Well, he was trying to conjure a succubi so yeah, he was about fifty percent there.

Eons must have passed in his senseless journey looking for some kind of symbol – or a few minutes by his count, but for him it was the same thing. He didn't even know what a demon portal looked like. Or should look like. Was it going to have big tits around it, or something?

“Come on," he muttered. “You made me stay after school. You owe me."

The book responded by continuing to be a book. So, he flipped on, his hands starting to smell of old paper. Sure, each new index revealed strange images. One appeared to be the moon and below it, a line of skeletons, perhaps suggesting its lunar light was deadly. Another was a hasty scribbling of a cracked bell next to an eye. Another a series of squares – like a blueprint – etched into a map Terrance didn't recognize. Fascinating, but not his portal.

Until. . .

Something lashed out at him. Well, not in the physical sense, but upon revealing one page, a deep and terrible chill ran rancor through his spine. An icon sat in profound wickedness at page top, penetrating his mind with visions of ill-gotten lust. Terror and arousal gripped him, for under the symbol – something like complex pentagram – feminine shapes accompanied by text riddled the contents. Skulls of animalistic dimensions surrounded free space, and a dread sense he was being watched overcame Terrance.

It had to be this page. At least, it was as far as he was willing to search. Terrance set the book flat on his bed, stepping back. Was he shaking? He looked at his hands, which shuddered like it were a fresh January morning. Excitement or terror? Eh, it was no different than when he searched for porn on the family computer at midnight. This was just a little more old-school, right?

The “Best of Satanic Chants Vol. 1" still rumbled through his room, urging him on. Well, only a few things left to do now. He went to his cupboard and retrieved his incredibly cool, incredibly stylish knife he got from the mall. It had a curved edge with skull insignia on the hilt, perfect for the ritual. Demons liked skulls, didn't they?

Next, he realized he probably should look the part, so went through his closet, searching for a hood. He didn't have one. Or a cloak or robe. His little sister had some kind of wizard costume from the Peter Jar books, but it was too small (and childish). Hmm. Improvise then! He'd come this far. So, he took a towel from the bathroom and tossed it over his head, wrapping it around his mouth. It was a dark blue so it had to look a little menacing, and plus, he could wipe the blood away.

Ugh. Oh yeah, the blood.

Returning to the profane index, here Terrance halted with genuine hesitation. The book hissed – or he imagined it did – licking his mind with sordid visions from a hellish reality. It beckoned him, demanded him.

O' pity thee, what thoust wonders, soul latched and bound to unyielding youth. Lo', I savor thee, grant my index your ichor. Dost thou not crave? Yearn for splendor?

Oh fuck. What? Those weren't his thoughts. He thought them but they weren't his. Someone. . . no, something put them there. He didn't even know what half of them meant! Oh he was either experiencing some kind of high from an eldritch weed stuck in an old book or this was the real deal.

Should he stop? Should he close the book? He wasn't religious, but he felt the intangible hand of some essence trying to wrangle free his soul, rob him of a light he knew not. So what then? Lose your mortal right to eternal afterlife or big-titty sex demon?

O' pity thee, act in thy true faith and for honest splendor. The animal amongst you and animal within, embrace.

He shook his head. Okay, enough. He didn't feel like having mind conversations with a giant textbook. He stepped closer. Again, Terrance eyed the page with the symbol, an impossibility of lines and syntax. All he had to go on was some random comment on an online website for the socially defunct, so, surely this path was the correct one. Breathing in, he placed one open palm over the page with the knife in other, touching the cold edge against his sensitive skin.

Agh! He pulled away. More breaths. Relax, it was just a cut. He'd never done it, and he didn't remember the last time he had to bleed so much. But it was easy, right? Just a knick. Just a cut. A slice. They did it all the time in the anime, so why couldn't he!?

His frame shriveled at pain. But, he let his mind wander to the curves of an otherworldly succubus. It was worth it. It was gonna' be worth it. Or, he was about to cut himself because of Ogelby.

One more breath. This time, he let the edge sink into his palm and the hot, salty sting erupted from the point. He almost jerked away, but went on. One, two, three breaths. Terrance looked away and quickly yanked the edge down, sending agony through his hand.

“God fucking dammit!" he hissed. Shit hurt. But the sensation subsided, leaving his palm a crimson mess of dark sanguine liquor. It was kind of terrifying.

He ignored the bloody surge erupting from him and let his palm sit over the book. Drops of an almost black blood dribbled into the ancient pages, filling it with new color. . . and staining the words. Oh, well damn. If this was all a farce he was certainly damaging school property. But he ignored the thought, filling the text with his liquid self. He wasn't sure how much was necessary, exactly, but we wagered a good bit was needed. It was an ancient book, after all.

Drawing away his hand, he dried himself with the towel and waited. Nothing happened. In fact, the bizarre whispers and 'thoughts' from before vanished too, like the end of a prank. Oh no. He hadn't been duped, had he? And the cut on his palm was wide enough to leave a scar. How the hell was he going to explain that?

The devlish ambiance filled his ears, chiding him. Oh god, was this the cost of foolish lust? To believe nonsense? To travel to the depths of the internet in hopes to fulfill some kind of childish want? He could've just met a girl, gone through the ropes of dating, learned the necessary social skills to meet people in the future!

Nope.

The text hissed. For real this time. The lingering chant of a quiet cackle pushed through the index, and Terrance's blood started to boil on the symbol. He froze, aghast. An aspect of him was thrilled. It worked! The other was terrified to the depths of his pitiful mortal life. It worked.

The symbol on the page started to whirl, shift. Blood sank into the pages, as if sipped by an unnatural force, while the words ebbed and burned like cinders. The Satanic chants stopped, as if realizing the presence of a real ritual.

O, pity thee.

A burst of light ripped from the hemispheres of hell shifted their way into his room. Agonizing spears of orange and red lashed out like frightened arms, forming an enormous symbol over Terrance's bed: the same complex pentagram he discovered. Terrance felt his back meet the wall, frightened beyond comprehension. Was his room about to catch fire!?

Darkness clouded his sight. The only illumination left was the profane icon, which now spun in rapid circles, a voracious hiss escaping its edges. A vortex to dimensions incomprehensible screamed and opened, tearing asunder the connections of reality. Soon, a pillar of scarlet erupted, a doorway flung ajar, allowing some beast to seep through.

And something did. First, a silhouette of unrecognizable shadow. Then, a shape, like a hand, gripping the rim of the portal. More fashioned through, slowly, a teasing coalescence of darkness forming a figure. But of what?

Terrance was sure he was dead. Oh god so dead. What the fuck had he just done? Not in a thousand years did he imagine any of this was going to work. Not really. In the deepest recesses of his dumb kid brain, this was just some silly ritual, and some stupid story he could tell his friends about. You know, one of those idiot things you do so you seem cool with your social circle? But this!?

This was it. He was really going to die, wasn't he? And as the continued to take shape, it was all but absolute certainty. Oh what terrible creature dared trespass? What dreadful leviathan was about to make Terrance its first victim?

There was a burst of light, forcing Terrance to clasp his eyes, covering them from the obliterating illumination. The room shook, the hissing continued, the boiling surged. Maybe he'd just die in the whirlwind.

But the ravenous storm did slow. The chaotic surge of light and energy settled, the book clasping shut with an audible crack. The scent of fire swelled and choked the room, while the whispering ceased. Terrance was too afraid to open his eyes, too afraid to see the daemonic horror no doubt staring him down.

“Wow, you look like a fucking idiot."

He jumped. A voice unknown snuck past the barrier of his hands, forcing him to look. The veils pulled away to reveal. . . not at all what he expected.

Something came through, all right. It was no abomination, however. Not a mutant nor hulking monstrosity. It didn't have a hundred mouths or scissors for hands. It was a woman. Was it?

There was. . . a lot to process. It was a woman, all right, but of bestial complexion. Fur darker than the abyss molded into a curvaceous form twice as tall as Terrance, sporting eyes of unforgiving crimson and dismissive smile. Her breasts heaved like thick baskets of bouncing joy, sizable enough she could likely crush his head between them if she so desired. A fine sinew of delicate muscle rest under the thin layer of fur, with legs and hips wide as the day. What did Ogelby say? “Child bearing hips?"

But, though female, she was not the succubus Terrance expected. In fact, she was more like the chimera from school. If he drew a comparison, he'd say she had the dimensions of a Doberman or some other wicked hellhound. The key difference is she maintained a long, whip like tail along with dark, embedded scars running across her in complex symbology.

She stretched, standing on the bed, her thick front wobbling with almost comical exaggeration, like gravity purposefully smacked her tits around.

“Aaaah, about time one of you dimwits figured it out. I've been sitting around that portal for ages. I almost lost a fucking bet, you know that?"

Her voice was chiding, aggressive, yet somehow alluring. Terrance was still frozen, though. Terrified. But. . . aroused. It was hard to feel otherwise; when you summon a demonic entity, you fear for your life, but when her thighs could crack a watermelon, you reconsider.

“Damn drug snorting spider," she murmured, looking around. She hopped off the bed, giving it a little tap with her tail, pushing on it with palm.

“Hmf. Guess that'll do."

Her scarlet gaze returned to Terrance. “Are you still down there? Most boys have it figured out by the time the book closes."

It dawned on Terrance he might need to say something. Anything.

“I. . . uh. . . hi?"

Good impression, surely the way to impress a legioness of hell.

She quirked a brow, flashing an amused – and agitated – grin. Her teeth were knives, and it dawned on Terrance he might not want to get on her bad side.

“Really good," she said. “Fantastic. Are you dull? Don't tell me this is a fluke." A gesture around her.

“The last fuck to summon me was an older fellow spending too many days by himself, but I broke him in half the first night. He was, at least, smart."

Terrance pulled away the towel. His mind was running a hundred miles a minute, trying to process any of this.

“So you're. . . a real succubus then? I did it?" he said.

“Ding ding, we have a winner. What gave it away? The ritual? The fire? Your own blood?"

Oh thank god, Terrance thought. Or, well, thank Satan, he guessed. It was a succubus. So he wasn't gonna' die! Hell yeah!

Wait, she was a succubus.

He stood, wobbling. Doing so clarified just much size she had on him. This was good. Or bad?

“That's amazing," he said, looking her over. He couldn't help it, but, she was a demon. Did they really care about modesty?

“Amazing huh? I've been called a lot of things over the eons, but never that."

Well, she was pleasant, in a rough sort of way, Terrance thought.

“Then. . . well, do you have a name?"

The beast laughed. “Hah! Slut, succubi, hell whore, she-bitch, regular bitch, tramp, and a whole mess else. A name? How cute. I bet the girls really like you."

He gave a weak smile. “Ah, n-no, usually girls need more than just a name," said Terrance.

A tongue click. “Ah, pity. Things are simpler back home. Oh, hmm. But I didn't give you a name."

She licked her chops. “If I spoke the bleak tongue, I'd likely split your skull in half. Not meant for mortal ears. But, how about something shorter? Mmm, Tysa."

Terrance nodded. “Oh. Well good. Um, I'm T-"

“Terrance, I know," said Tysa. She stepped forward, leaning over him. Her plump front wobbled together, crashing into the boy's view.

“I know all about you. The second you opened Srymyr's Index I got a peak into that sweet little mind of yours. Such a dirty one, too. Wanting girls slobbering on your virgin cock. Naughty, naughty."

Terrance sputtered. “W-what? How!?"

A dumb question, he knew. He was dallying with the forces of evil, how could they not know?

She chuckled. “Mmm, really don't know what you did? Ohh, that's okay. A portal is a portal. You paid your dues. Soul, blood, and thought. Now comes the reward. Right? That's what I'm here for? You couldn't get the squirrel from gym to bounce in your lap, so you tried something different?"

Terrance flushed, astonished. He barely processed the rest of her phrasing, so caught up in her penetrating stare. Blood? Soul? How far did she get into his mind? Sure, he thought about Roxxan sometimes but that was a thought so private and. . .

His musing was interrupted. A gentle palm came to his groin, massaging it.

“Oh stop with the flustered fool act," said Tysa. “You know exactly what you want. The second I popped into view, you wanted to get that dirty little dick right between these, eh?"

She smacked her tits, a fierce echo reverberating from them. Terrance grunted, feeling his shaft wriggle to life. He had never had anything remotely female be so forward with him. It was refreshing, though frightening still. But her words cut far, piercing with their insight. He was that obvious?

“I. . . yeah. . ." he admitted. Hard to deny anything with a literal demon.

A playful eyeroll. “It's cute when mortals try to act coy. I'll give you that, at least you attempt to be modest."

Now her palm came to nape of his neck, throwing him into her cleavage. He gave a muffled yelp, the silky warmth of her fur caressing his flesh, while his dome vanished in the crushing grasp of her enormous front. Again, Tysa laughed, hands to hips, throwing her wild breasts about, forcing Terrance to wiggle within her demonic “grip."

“Ahh, been such a long time since I played," she said. She rubbed his head, grinning, though Terrance was too busy drifting in black fur to notice.

For a moment, she allowed him a reprieve. He stared at her, dumbfounded. Aroused, but unsure of how to continue. How exactly did you. . . proceed with a demoness almost twice your size?

Fortunately, Tysa was a step ahead. “Well don't just fucking stare at them."

She gripped his wrists, and with horrifying strength, forced his palms into the viscous embrace of her bountiful tits, greeting his touch with gleeful, soft warmth. Two thoughts ran through his mind: Tysa was powerful and could likely reorganize the direction of his limbs, and my god, her tits were incredible. The first time he ever got a feel, and it was with an entity from a realm beyond.

'Uh. . ." he muttered again, lost. He eyed them, of course, with all the greedy delight a teen takes when ogling bare breasts. But he wasn't sure what else to do. Squeeze?

Yeah, he squeezed. It helped Tysa threw his hands around her front in circular tosses, ushering him to grope and play with her womanly axis.

“Uff, fucking touch them," she commanded. “Haven't felt virgin hands on me since I was an impling!"

Terrance blinked. Calling him a virgin was rude. . . but true. Well, not for long, he supposed. In the meantime, her dark demand overcame him. The shock of ripping a creature out of book pages had long faded, and his lustful instincts started taking over. It's what he wanted. It's what he was getting. What was at stake? What did he sacrifice for all this? It didn't matter, and if it didn't matter, surely, he was going to have fun with it.

“Yeah, all right," he said, squeezing hard, incurring an approving groan from Tysa. She released his wrists, allowing him to freely explore the slopes of her chest, where he did so in uninformed fashion. His digits brushed past her nips, which were dark as the night, stiffening at his attentions, all while he tried to balance the immense weight of the satin mountains.

“Do I tip you, or something?

A joke, mostly. Terrance didn't know if there was an etiquette to fornicating with a demoness.

Tysa sneered. “Oh you'll tip me all right."

Guess there was.

In lead with her words, she shifted, grabbing Terrance by the shoulders an outright tossing him onto his bed. With a muffled thump he landed into the covers, startled. Well, good to know the succubi could lob him through a wall, if she wanted.

He wasn't left alone for long, however. Tysa approached, crawling atop the bed, and more importantly, over him. He let off an audible woah because he didn't know if his bones could even support her. A dream come true for some. He vaguely remembered something about this, a joke from somewhere. Death by. . .

His thoughts were interrupted by something for more direct. Before, his eyes were consumed with the encompassing hold of Tysa's tits. Now?

A wicked laugh. “You mortals really get off on this, huh?"

As she spoke, her plump, immense rear came into view, before taking a firm rest upon Terrance's face. With an audible (well, muffled) gasp, the whole of his cranium vanished from the grip of her thick buttocks, smooth cheeks wide enough to fit on his pillow. Her scent – like a distant fire – overwhelmed him and his mouth was treated to another pair of lips.

Tysa's full, plump ass essentially used Terrance as a seat. Not that he complained. Oh, god, how did they put at school? She's got a fat ass. Yeah, that part. He was stuck, in the best possible way, face nuzzled by the gummy caress of her snatch while his hands did their best to hug and hold against the immense rump. The demoness wiggled, outright shoving her mons into him, enticing Terrance with a series of rapid bounces, soft claps echoing from the impact.

Terrance tried to say something, but the sheer weight of rump kept him muzzled. The only benefit was the touch of cleft to mouth, where he could “sample" the demoness. Soft, moist, those were ways to describe her. And hot. Very hot. He hadn't realized how quickly temperature rose when two bodies were in such close proximity, never mind one of them being a literal hellspawn.

“That's it. . ." uttered Tysa, who proceeded to rotate and grind her hips along the curious human maw. As for Terrance, only instinct and porn videos were his leaders now, and they weren't exactly great standards to go on.

But god dammit he had a face full of demoness pussy so he was gonna' try! Amidst her motions, Terrance supplied another volley of squeezes and touches to the wide hips currently adorning his face. He proceeded to – in clumsy teenage fashion – mouth at her, licking at the folds precariously dabbing against him. It was enough, at least, to excite the massive Tysa, and that was enough to spur him on.

“Well, now you're getting the hang of it," she said, smacking him hard with a particularly harsh rump fall. Terrance didn't hear her though, or much of it, seeing as how most of him was buried in her.

In the meantime, Terrance's loins were on fire, in desperate need of attention. His malehood fought against the tight grasp of jeans, a spear of seething need. Noting this, Tysa's skilled digits unraveled him at the waist, tossing away pesky tethers to allow Terrance's cock to escape. He shivered, the cool air touching his nethers, though more so because the demoness was quick to “attend" to him.

“Off ggd!" he mumbled, shuddering at the touch. Touch, because, Tysa had begun to assault his inches with the silky attentions of her palm. Similar to his own, yet comforting with a layer of plush fur – though the best part? Someone else was giving him a handjob.

Terrance did his best to push his tongue between the black petals, though he didn't know much about anatomy – at least not this intimately. But then again, it was a demoness, so standards were different. Not that it mattered, as Tysa continued to jiggle and quiver her immense ass upon him, offering a dark giggle every time his tongue attempted a stroke against her nether lips.

“Not bad for a human," she said, rolling her grasping digits over his shaft. “Nice and smooth. Welcome break from all those prickly dicks in hell."

Terrance didn't hear much of that, but he knew it as a compliment. He'd take it. If was up to the standards of a succubi, that had to be a win.

Though the demoness didn't stop there. She continued to bombard Terrance with attentions as her massive breasts anchored around his loins, crushing his length between their mountainous grasp. A part of him wished he wasn't buried in her – were it not so good – as he could only imagine the debauchery occurring at his length.

Tysa tossed and choked his prick with her heaving chest, gripping the length and letting tits wobble in rapid succession. Her Doberman-esque lips came to crown, supply it with a few attentive kisses, and then licks, suckling the member with noisy slurps. At this point, Terrance couldn't move, overwhelmed by the actions of his demonic counterpart. His hands fell from the slopes of her rump, crippled by the delightful movement of her moist maw.

For a while, she embraced the cock into her hot oral chamber, slamming the shaft into the canal of her throat. Her whip tail wove about like a perverse conductor, as she knew she had the young man under her spell.

With a loud 'pop,' she released him, cackling. “Ah, a nice flavor. But I'm not done with you yet. Hope you have a replacement bed. . ."

She lifted from her 'seat,' allowing Terrance to breathe again, his face hot and flustered. He was dazed, but in the best way, like he'd ingested the finest kind of narcotic. Now, however, his eyes were treated to the sight of the shifting temptress, her adjusted herself. Here, with back to him, the split of her black beach came to his loins, allowing his cock to slip between the grasp of her rump. Again, she wriggled her hips, tossing his loins like a baton, smirking as she toyed with his mortal root.

“Oh g-god," Terrance managed to say, stunned as he observed the fat, pleasant buttocks teasing his twitching mast.

Tysa grinned, those sharp teeth flaring with insidious intent. “Oh, god's not here, love. Not here at all."

Before Terrance could finish a thought, her rump heaved and her dark petals were upon him. All at once, the reality of his virgin self and the self about to fuck a demon crashed together. Young boy no more, he was a mortal now inches deep in demon pussy.

“Ah fuck!" Terrance yelped, his flesh vanishing into the oven hot softness of Tysa's folds, Her buttocks slammed onto his hips, along with all the muscled weight, sending shockwaves of immeasurable pleasure through him. . . and pain. His pitiful bones were no match for the sheer power of this demoness, but his cock wriggled in delight as it was slowly suckled and coaxed by the moist fixture of her inner walls.

“Oh that's good," Tysa hissed, clasping her rump as she starting a smooth rotating of falls and crashes. Her dark, mesmerizing moans filled the room, the roar of a dreadful hell beast, intoxicating. To bed something so dangerous and powerful was a thrill!

Jackpot, Terrance thought.

Tysa seemed to have the same logic, beginning to bounce her immense ass upon the hard length. Each strike created a violent succession of fleshy wobbles through the waves of her cheeks, as she tossed her weighty backside with furious succession. Her arms gripped the bedding, claws ripping through the fabric like skin, pounding her mortal counterpart into a passive, orgasmic dust.

Terrance could only watch in splendor, along for the ride. He thought of getting his smartphone to record it, but couldn't even move. The beast smacked into him with such pleasing, violent strokes there was no room to do anything else!

“You like that you little fucking runt?" Tysa chimed between breaths. Not like Terrance could nod, his senses were obliterated. The tight, suckling folds held him perfectly and each stroke sent a new wave of radiating pleasure throughout his young spike.

“Nnngg. . ."

He groaned, the loudest he'd ever in, well, his entire life. His whole form shook, hands gripping into the demoness' hips, a sudden shockwave of bursting orgasm shooting through him. It was overwhelming, an intensity of sensations he'd never experienced, almost to the point he thought he might pass out! Tysa felt it too, reacting with an approving bark, holding her fat rump in place as fresh, mortal seed burst into her abyssal womb.

“That's it. . ." she said, no doubt feasting on the fresh, post-virgin essence of her summoner. Well, she could have it, as far as Terrance was concerned – though not like his thinking was coherent anymore.

Indeed, he gulped heavy breaths, sweat adorning his frame, pumping every bit of seed into that delightful, sodden pussy. He blinked with each pant, a thousand thoughts running through his mind.

I just got laid by a demon, he mused.

“You did," said Tysa, eyeing him with a stare most horrifying. “And you did way more than that, kiddo. More than you know."

Uh. Terrance didn't know what to make of that. Or, the fact that apparently, she could read his mind with ease.

“Your bed held up pretty good though," said Tysa, wriggling again. “Ready for round two?"

Terrance rubbed his head. “Uh, well, hang on. . ." He wasn't a machine!

It didn't matter. Before he knew it, the immense demoness was bouncing off his cock once again, filling his room with the muffled howls of a hellhound.

When the founders met to form Shady Vale, it was believed they were contacting the unknown for power or knowledge. In reality, it was probably some old dudes who wanted to bang a bunch of demonettes.