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Demons, Depravity, And Desire free porn video
I had always excelled at magical theory. Enough that it had become rather boring to me. Against my teacher's recommendations, I had declined to enroll in New Amsterdam University's Medical Magics program years ago. While I'm sure others would have enjoyed the prestige and wealth that being a medical mage would have brought them, my taste for magic had always been a bit darker. I loved reading historical accounts of the history of magic, of the early formulation of demonic summoning, the roots and battles of the first and second Warlock Wars, and the Masterton Incremental Soul Spending Formulation that had ended WWII. Don't get me wrong, however. I wasn't some death-seeking warlock intent on ruling the world or hurting people for ever more demonic power. I just thought the fantasy was intoxicating. Live like a king from the Bronze Age, a harem of women, people bowing down to you like a god when you can stretch out your hand and make your will manifest by letting infernal magic taint your body. I'd tease my older sister about staring into her eyes and making her my slave, and she'd throw a pillow or something at my head. Mom would step in and separate us, but it was all in good fun. I was a teenage kid then, and I think most of us have dreams of that sort at that age.
The problem is when those dreams and ideas don't really go away, and nag at the back of your mind. When you stop being a kid and still close your eyes, and see the image of your mother on her knees, long black hair draped down across her naked shoulders and back, hands on her breasts, begging up at you to bless her with your cock, calling you "master". When you dream of your sister clawing at your back as she begs you to creampie her and knock her up, sobbing that you're the only man for her. I was a bit of a pervert then. Heck, I still am, though I'm smart enough to keep it secret.
Now though, I'm twenty-seven. I'm a successful public accountant with an MBA. Numbers had been my second passion, and I've happily made a career of it. I'm not rich, but I make enough that I'm able to support my mother, and even my sister while she's between jobs. They live with me in the suburbs of New Amsterdam, and we're pretty much your average single parent family.
But I'm tired of being an average family. I'm tired of being white-bread, never-gets-in-trouble, bog-standard guy.
That's why I'm sitting in front of a demonic summoning circle at midnight, candles flickering all around me at the Winter Solstice. I've got the requisite items; a black-bladed dagger, a white-bladed dagger, an offering of twenty milliliters of my own blood, a lock of my hair, and five milliliters of my own cum. Summoning a succubus for the purposes of binding her and her magical power to your own will requires a precise formula. Get it wrong, and she could end up dominating you, or worse. Every now and then you heard about an unsanctioned summoning going wrong; no one botched summoning was the same, but they were always ended badly for the summoner. But I'm a prodigy, and I'm sure I've got it right.
All I need do is spill my blood across the circle of salt I've scattered, invoke the species of succubus I intend to summon, and she should inexorably be drawn to the magical energy of my cum I've baited in the center of the circle. My blood stabilizes the portal for just long enough to close behind her, and then we hammer out terms while I've got her trapped. Standard stuff.
Still, a nagging feeling scratches at the back of my mind, and I'm tempted to double check the texts I first remembered reading about this summoning from. On the other, this night won't last forever, and I'd hate to have to wait another half a year for the Summer solstice before trying another summoning like this.
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