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It was supposed to be a simple summoning. A sexting novice sorceress, eager to gain favor with the High Council, locked herself inside the sacred crypt, naked except for a veil of mana dust across her skin. She had read the incantation a hundred times. She was ready. Or so she thought.
The circle flared, red and black, and he appeared. The demon. Towering. Horned. Muscles flexing with every breath. His cock hung thick, semi-hard, growing as he looked her over.
"You summoned me," he growled, voice like thunder. "Now submit."
She hesitated. That was her mistake.
In a flash, he was on her, lips crushing hers, claws tearing away the last of her magical covering. His tongue invaded her mouth while his tail slithered between her legs, brushing her folds. She gasped, arched, and moaned. Her body betrayed her. She wanted it.
He didn’t ask for permission. He pinned her against the crypt wall, legs spread, cunt wet and begging. One thrust and he was inside. Stretching her, filling her completely. Her screams echoed through the tombs, but they weren’t screams of fear. They were desperate, feral, uncontrollable.
He fucked her hard. Brutal. Relentless. Her spells shattered. Her dignity crumbled. She became nothing more than a moaning, shaking vessel for his seed. He flipped her over, tail wrapping around her throat, and entered her ass with one long, slow stroke. Her eyes rolled back. Her pussy clenched on emptiness, already hungry for more.
He came inside both holes. Then again. And again. Hours passed. Her belly swelled with magic-infused cum. Her mind faded into a haze of orgasm and heat. She didn’t remember her name. Only the sound of his grunts and her own dripping holes.
When the High Council found her the next day, she was still lying there. Smiling. Gaping. Whimpering his name in her sleep.
They said she had failed the ritual.
But we know the truth.
The circle flared, red and black, and he appeared. The demon. Towering. Horned. Muscles flexing with every breath. His cock hung thick, semi-hard, growing as he looked her over.
"You summoned me," he growled, voice like thunder. "Now submit."
She hesitated. That was her mistake.
In a flash, he was on her, lips crushing hers, claws tearing away the last of her magical covering. His tongue invaded her mouth while his tail slithered between her legs, brushing her folds. She gasped, arched, and moaned. Her body betrayed her. She wanted it.
He didn’t ask for permission. He pinned her against the crypt wall, legs spread, cunt wet and begging. One thrust and he was inside. Stretching her, filling her completely. Her screams echoed through the tombs, but they weren’t screams of fear. They were desperate, feral, uncontrollable.
He fucked her hard. Brutal. Relentless. Her spells shattered. Her dignity crumbled. She became nothing more than a moaning, shaking vessel for his seed. He flipped her over, tail wrapping around her throat, and entered her ass with one long, slow stroke. Her eyes rolled back. Her pussy clenched on emptiness, already hungry for more.
He came inside both holes. Then again. And again. Hours passed. Her belly swelled with magic-infused cum. Her mind faded into a haze of orgasm and heat. She didn’t remember her name. Only the sound of his grunts and her own dripping holes.
When the High Council found her the next day, she was still lying there. Smiling. Gaping. Whimpering his name in her sleep.
They said she had failed the ritual.
But we know the truth.
