by John Dylena
“I’ll leave you alone to your woman-less life if you have sex with me one more time. Just tonight. You play along, and I’ll never bother you again without you asking first.”
Chris paused the game and turned toward Amy.
“No! Don’t look. Keep your eyes on the screen. This is a surprise.”
“Tell me what it is,” he said, begrudgingly looking forward.
“Nope. Either accept or deny the terms.”
Chris sighed. She was probably wearing some sexy lingerie or something, which was why she didn’t want him to see her. If it meant not having her show up and use him whenever she liked, why not have one more night of aggressive sex?
“Okay, fine. I accept.”
“Good. Now exit out of that game so we can have some fun,” Amy said as she reached around from behind his chair and massaged his shoulders. After a moment’s hesitation, Chris saved his progressed and turned off his system.
Then everything went dark.
“A blindfold? Really?” Chris said as Amy helped him out of the chair. She took his hand and led him to the bedroom, where she kept the blindfold on him as she stripped him of his clothes.
“Give me a second to get ready,” she whispered.
She took a couple steps back and Chris could hear her fumbling around with something. He raised his hand to his blindfold, hoping to sneak a peek at whatever she was she was putting on.
Or taking off.
“No peeking!” she said, slapping his hand away. “All right. I’m ready.”
“Can I—”
“Yes. Surprise!” she shouted as he removed his blindfold.
Chris stared at her, confused as to what the surprise was. Sure, she was dressed in a very sexy leather outfit, but what was the…
Oh.
His eyes moved south, and that’s when he spotted it: a bright purple strap-on.
The toy was about six inches long and had the same thickness as his own cock. He watched as Amy grabbed the base and stroked it slowly.
“What the fuck is that?” he asked, finally tearing his eyes away from her purple dick.
“It’s a strap-on, Chris. Duh. I’m going to fuck you with it.”
“You didn’t say anything—”
“I know. I didn’t say anything and you still agreed to my terms. So, hands and knees!”
Chris stood defiant as Amy squeezed out the clear lube onto her hand.
“Chris, you agreed to our deal. If you back out now, then I’ll just keep coming back here and bothering you. Who knows, you might just like it. One of my exes liked it, and he was straight as they come.”
Amy sighed as Chris refused to budge.
“All right, if that’s what it takes…” She stepped toward him and pushed him onto the bed. A scrawny man, Chris never put up much of a fight when it came to Amy.
She had an athletic body, one that she maintained with frequent trips to the gym. Because of it, she always got her way in the bed. She out-muscled Chris, easily bending him to her will and keeping him submissive.
Before he could react, she was ton top of him, rolling him onto his belly and pinning his thin arms and legs down while she positioned the head over her cock against his virgin asshole.
“If you relax, Chris,” she whispered into his ear, “it’ll be a lot more enjoyable for the both of us. It’s not just you that’s getting penetrated.”
“No, don’t!”
Chris’ protests turned to moans when Amy pushed her hips forward, burying the head of her cock into his ass. Her movements were slow and delicate. Despite his verbal objections, Chris’ body showed different intentions.
He stopped struggling and his sphincter relaxed, allowing Amy full access. She pushed in deeper, still going slow, until she was in all the way to the base.
“Please…” Chris whimpered as Amy’s hands held onto his shoulders. She ignored his pleas as she pulled out and pushed back in.
With each cycle of penetration, Amy increased the speed and force of her thrusts. She pushed harder, faster, deeper into Chris, and with each push, he moaned louder.
“Oh god, yes!” she screamed, squeezing his shoulders as she fucked him relentlessly.
The bed rocked as she pounded his asshole. Chris’ rebellious outbursts had all but vanished, replaced with lust-filled moans.
Amy backed up off of his shoulders, pulling his hips off of the bed until he was on his hands and knees. She fucked him like a raging bull, his dick hardening between his legs. She leaned forward and reached around his narrow hips, grabbing onto his rock hard cock and stroking it furiously.
She grunted as her thrusts became uneven, pushing as deep as she could go until she cried out, coating the cock buried deep inside her cunt with her fluids.
Moments later, Chris couldn’t fight it any longer and submitted to the pleasure. He moaned loudly as cum erupted out of his cock onto the sheets below.
When the last of his hot, sticky jizz dripped out of his softening prick, Amy released him from her grip and he fell forward onto the bed, exhausted.
She grinned as she backed up and climbed off of the bed. “Thanks for the fun times, Chris. I’ll be going now, keeping my end of the bargain.”
He said nothing as she walked toward his bedroom door. He stared off into nothingness as she left his apartment.
“Oh, and if you ever want to go at it again, just ask. Maybe next time I could dress you up in some sexy lingerie and makeup.”
The last thing he heard before drifting off to sleep was her laughter and the door to his apartment slamming shut.
It was three in the afternoon when Chris finally climbed out of bed. His mind was racing as he slumped off of the cum-soaked bedding. He remained quiet and withdrawn as he stripped his bed and loaded the soiled sheets into his washing machine.
Still naked, he grabbed an ice-cold beer from the fridge and lowered himself into the hot water filling his tub and soaked away the memories from the night before away. He stared up at his bathroom’s tiled ceiling and allowed his mind to wander.
Four days passed by without a word from Amy, and it was only when Chris ventured into the vintage bookstore down the street from his apartment that he finally figured out how he was going to get revenge on her.
He stood on the cracked sidewalk and stared at the dilapidated old building. The storefront was made of wood way past its prime, as evident by the rot and mold throughout. The dark brown paint was peeling and cracked, and the brass embellishments were in dire need of polishing; the windows were cloudy and dusty.
Inside the door, an open sign hung slanted. He turned away from the building and looked around. The street was empty except for a couple of parked cars near the restaurant across the street.
The sky was dark and full of stars and the streetlight next to him cast an off-yellow glow on the building and the sidewalk. The time on his watch read ten-p.m. He had never been in this store before—in fact, he never knew that it was actually a store. Whenever he walked passed, it was too dark inside to see if anything was actually there.
Sighing, he walked up to the door. He grabbed the brass handle and pulled his hand back, looking at the layer of dust that now caked his palm. Grimacing, he wiped the dust on his pants and reached out for the handle once more. He pulled back on the door, and after a moment of resistance, it broke free of its frame, opening with a loud creak and the ring of a small bell mounted just above his head.
The lights were on inside—at least, the few that were still intact. Several of the modest chandeliers had broken or burnt-out bulbs, but the store was still surprisingly well-lit. Spooky, considering that from outside the place looked rather dark and empty.
The smell of old wood and leather filled Chris’ nose as he maneuvered through the labyrinth of shelves, boxes, tables, and random piles of books. The air was still, and everywhere he looked, clouds of dust floated in the lights.
He walked up to a stack of books and picked up the first one he set his eyes on. The thick,
leatherbound volume was heavy, and the binding was stiff. The spine cracked noisily as he opened it. The paper inside was no longer white, but rather yellow with age, and had a musty smell.
He flipped through the book, trying to identify it, but he quickly lost interest and eventually set it back on its shelf.
He grumbled, scratching his head. “What am I even doing here?”
“You’re obviously looking for a book.” A voice echoed from behind him. He turned and jumped at the sudden appearance of an old lady. “Did I scare you, lad?” She laughed. It was a dry, creaky sound, like rusted gears struggling to turn inside a machine long-abandoned by its creator.
The lady was old and gray, hunched over a small cane that looked to be hand-carved. Etched into the stained wood were long, curving patterns with a brass cap at the base.
Chris looked away from the ornate cane to the old woman that wobbled around in front of him. Her hair was pulled back into a bun and had a pencil stabbed into it. She was half his height and looked to be almost a century old.
She turned and walked away, disappearing into one of the rows of shelves.
“Wait, miss!” he called out. For an old lady, she’s pretty quick.
“Over here, laddie!” He followed the voice down one of the tall rows and found her standing on a ladder, putting away some books. “What can I help you find?”
Chris rubbed his chin, unsure of whether this lady would be able to help him or not. “I don’t know, really. I had nothing else to do on my way home, so I stopped in here.”
“Four aisles down, middle shelf, section B32. You’ll know when you see it.” She smiled at him and nodded. He opened his mouth to reply, but the woman nodded her head again and pointed down the aisle.
He shrugged his shoulders and backed out of the aisle, navigating his way to the appropriate shelf.
“Middle shelf, B32!” Her voice was distant—incorporeal—and echoed throughout the empty store.
Chris sighed and wandered down the innumerable rows of books, looking for B32. His fingers stroked the old leather spines until he stopped at the correct area.
“What am I even looking—” He stopped mid-sentence as his eyes spotted the book the old lady recommended. “No way,” he said as he pulled it down off of the shelf.
The title of the book was written in gold letters in a language he didn’t recognize. It was wrapped in a thick leather cover, and much like the rest of the tomes in the store, it was old and stained. The paper inside was jaundiced and brittle, like it might crumble to dust if he dared to turn a page.
“I see you found it,” the old lady said, appearing next to him. Chris jumped, almost dropping the book.
“What is this book?” he asked, gingerly flipping through the pages. Much like the cover, the text in the book was written in the foreign language, but there were also glyphs, inscriptions, and drawings, all of it handwritten and drawn.
The old lady laughed, tapping her finger on her forehead. “It’s written in a long forgotten language, used by some of the Germanic tribes back in the early days of the Roman Empire. I have a guide on how to read the text somewhere. Just wait by the register and I’ll return when I find it.”
He exited the maze of shelves and walked up to the large wooden desk. He laughed to himself when he saw the modern retail equipment resting on the stained wood.
“What, did you think I would have a register from the early 1900s?” she said, walking up behind him with the tiny book in her hand.
“No ma’am. But technology seems out of place in an old store like this,” he replied, handing her his credit card.
She smiled as she put both the books in a plastic bag and handed it to him, waving goodbye as he walked out of the store.
The night had turned cold, and his thin jacket wasn’t keeping him warm enough. Holding the books close, Chris crossed the street and looked back at the store. There were no lights on and the place looked abandoned once more. The streetlight outside flickered and went out. Not paying it any heed, he turned and headed back to his apartment.
Once inside, Chris ignored his computer and sat down at his kitchen table. With a glass of whiskey on the rocks and a pen and pad of paper handy, he started translating, starting with the title.
“This cannot be real,” he said, staring at the spine of the book with wide, curious eyes. He looked down at the pad where he’d scrawled the rough translation: Summoning Demons and Other Citizens of the Underground.
He sat back in his chair and took a long sip of the whiskey, his mind full of ideas. Finally, he settled on one: to summon an incubus and use the demon’s magic to make him strong, sexy, and incredibly attractive. Then he would be the one to dominate Amy in bed—give her a taste of her own medicine with his soon-to-be magically enlarged cock.
All he had to do was find the right spell that summoned the demon and kept him bound to Chris’ will.
“Easier said than done,” he said to himself as he flipped through the pages.
It was two in the morning when he finally found what he was looking for. Chris sat back in his chair as he tried to contain his excitement. He moved his small table aside and drew the symbol onto the floor, making sure it was exactly what it looked like in the book.
He took a deep breath before reading the spell aloud. The thought that this could all be fake had crossed his mind, but it didn’t matter. If nothing happened when he said the last line of the spell, then no harm had been done.
Chris stared at the symbol on the ground and waited patiently for the something—anything—to happen. He set the book down on the table, the excitement leaving his body with each passing second.
Nothing happened during the spell. There was no smoke or lights or wind. After a couple of minutes, he fell back into his chair and rubbed his face with his hands.
Until he heard her voice.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
Chris stared at the creature in his kitchen. The fact that she was a succubus and not an incubus didn’t click until after he took in her beauty.
She had long, jet-black hair and wore a skin-tight black dress with matching leather boots. Her skin was the color of red wine, and poking out of her forehead was a pair of curvy horns. She stared at him with ocean-blue eyes. They were the same color as Amy’s.
“Y-you’re not an incubus,” Chris muttered.
“Ya think? What gave it away?” she replied, crossing her arms. “Fool. You obviously mispronounced the word you were trying to summon me with. What language is that book, anyway?”
She flicked her wrist, and Chris watched as the book floated toward her. It remained in the air in front of her as she skimmed through the pages with curiosity.
“Funny, you don’t look like a Vandal.”
“A what?”
“This book was written in a very old form of Germanic used by the Vandal tribe back during the early days of the Roman Empire. How did you find this? No matter,” she said, not even giving him a moment to answer. She snapped her fingers and the book vanished in a puff of smoke.
“Hey, what did you—”
“Silence human. That book is dangerous in the hands of someone like you. Or it would be, if you could actually speak the language it was—”
“Hey!” Chris said, standing up out of his chair. “Silence, demon. I summoned you, now you must do as I say.”
“Oh really? And is this glyph supposed to keep me contained?”
Chris’ confident facade crumbled as the succubus effortlessly stepped outside of the rune he’d drawn on the floor of his kitchen.
“Well, it would’ve worked if—as I mentioned before—you knew what the hell you were doing. Not only did you fail to summon the correct demon, but you also completely botched the collaring spell.”
“I thought—”
“You thought wrong,” the demon said, standing in front of Chris. “Tell me why it was that you undertook this failed excuse for a summoning, and if I like your reason, I, the succu
bus known as Iotonna, won’t kill you.”
“I… I…”
“I’m listening,” she said, leaning forward and cupping her ear.
He took a deep breath. “My plan was to summon an incubus and force him to use his magic to change my body—make me bigger, stronger, sexier. And give me a big dick. Then I would use that new body to get revenge on the woman who has been taking advantage of me.”
“Oh? She’s been taking advantage of you?”
“Yeah… she’s very aggressive and… dominant.”
“And you don’t like it when she gets rough?”
“No—”
“Liar.” Iotonna said, pushing his chair back with his foot.
“I’m not lying—”
“Do you forget what I am? I am a succubus, you stupid human. It is my job to know what you humans like. I know that you secretly love being dominated by this ‘Amy.’ You love how she pushes you around and tells you what to do. And what’s this? Oh, this is good.”
“What? What’s good?”
“You recently popped your anal cherry.”
“Oh, fuck you!” Chris shouted, standing up out of the chair.
“Silence, pig,” Iotonna commanded. Chris felt his throat tighten as invisible hands forced him back onto his chair. “You brought this on yourself when you failed to properly summon a demon. You know what would’ve happened if you summoned an incubus instead of little old me?”
Chris shook his head.
“Well, you would be bent over this table getting fucked by a ten-inch cock. Incubi don’t really care for conversation. They’re primitive creatures and extremely horny. The incubus would’ve fucked you until you broke, then he would’ve enslaved you and you’d be his bitch. Is that what you’d prefer?”
Chris shook his head again.
“Well, consider yourself lucky. I’m going to give you what you want and more. But first, let’s give that body of yours a tune up.” Iotonna cracked her knuckles before placing her hand on Chris’ chest.
If he’d had control over his voice, Chris would’ve moaned loudly.
He tightly gripped his chair as a prickling heat surged through his body and the world went black.
