Demonic Nightmare 1
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Demonic Nightmare 2 free porn video
Sacrifice. It was just the only way, Joel thought to himself. Some part
of him appreciated that it was a cocktail of anger, embarrassment and
desperation that was driving him to consider such extreme measures.
Extreme measures which, uncharacteristically, he'd barely even done any
reading on. His understanding, which he now in his recklessness felt was
probably more than adequate to make such logical leaps, was that since
Dybbuks were essentially just compressed masses of demonic energy anyway,
he could harness that energy to do more than just perform the possession
parlour trick for which they were known. He could in theory use them as
batteries to overload his own abilities and force his way out of his
predicament. Either that, or at the very least undo some of the
inadvertent conditioning Ian had unknowingly forced upon him.
He'd figured it out, at last. What had given it away had been, after the
third poolside slip up had ended in the inevitable third marathon fuck
session, Ian telling him that he should buy a bikini. His joke had been
such a specific request that he'd remembered saying it after encountering
a somewhat confused and embarrassed Joel leaving a clothes store, having
just purchased one.
It was fairly simple to piece together a hypothesis at that point. After
transforming, in order to turn back Joel needed to receive semen inside
him, as per his original specifications. Once this was achieved however,
he was 'linked' somehow for that 'session' by the person who did so, and
was unable to be fully sated until his partner was. And last but not
least, in his finally-satisfied afterglow he was especially susceptible
to suggestion - he was, in essence, programmed by whatever his partner
told him at this point. And this programming appeared to carry on even
after the transformation reverted, seeing as he'd felt compelled at the
time to purchase women's swimwear, and by how much dicks now fascinated
him… and turned him on.
What was less simple to piece together was anything else Ian might have
said after the half dozen or so times they'd now gone at it. Those two
commands were all he'd figured out, and while part of him hoped that this
was because those two were all they were, Ian's habit for making stupid
comments at awkward moments had him suspecting there were more to find.
His own memories of those afterglows were hazy at best. Although he'd not
explained why for fear of knowing abuse of that power, he'd forbid Ian
from speaking were it to happen again, and was now fully dedicated to
finding an active solution to his problem, rather than just waiting for
it to fade away by itself as he'd wasted so much time doing. Thus,
sacrifice.
The first few Dybbuks he'd attempted to use for that purpose had produced
less than ideal results. One had apparently disappeared entirely while
still being readily detectible by demonic sensors and such, while another
had done everything but - it wasn't there, according to any ordinary
method of detection besides plain sight, and now it merely floated around
from room to room in Joel's house like some kind of lazy cat in neon
cloud form. It had wasted another day just trying to figure out some kind
of spell of misdirection that would stop anyone noticing it, should it
wander beyond the walls of his house, or should his parents come home -
before he just gave in and tricked some Imp into sorting that for him.
After that, he'd taken a step back from active research and
experimentation. He'd wasted a day because of a problem he could've
easily got an Imp to solve in minutes, which meant he wasn't thinking
straight. Understandably, given the threat looming over his head, the
mental-meddling Ian had and might have done, and the constant near-
horniness his abstaining from jerking off brought about. In fact, the
latter had become such a distraction that Joel's number one suspicion on
any conditioning Ian might not have mentioned was that he was 'freaking
horny' or something to that effect.
In light of this state of mind, he'd gone back to his notes. Or,
attempted to, before realising that he'd left a disorganised mess
throughout the rooms he worked in. He'd written them as a kind of loose
journal, as well as noting important findings - but, trusting his usually
impressive memory, had failed to organise them into any kind of coherent
whole. Now with his mind's processing power hampered by his
circumstances, he set about trying to solidify what he knew and didn't
know, what he could reasonably suspect, and any conclusions or solutions
that presented themselves when all his work was united in one whole. The
endeavour took him a full week, when it might have taken him only a
weekend in his previous state of mind.
After he'd completed his own first occult tome, things were much more
manageable. He'd even added a sort of index card system for jumping from
page to page to check various findings against themselves, which had sped
up things where his now-unreliable short term memory had previously
failed him. Things were, in fact, going swimmingly (though he hadn't swam
in weeks, after one too many slip-ups - literal and otherwise - had lead
to a transformation), until the visuals-only Dybbuk poked out through his
wall, over a poster of Da Vinci's Vitruvian Man… right on the crotch that
Joel had been careful to cover with a post-it note. Emerging in an
elongated, bulbous form, it caught Joel's eye immediately, and the pent-
up arousal had all it needed to send him into heat.
He felt a twinge in his own dick, and reached down into his pants. He
brought it out for him to see and, despite how unhinged the back of his
mind told him it was, got even more turned on. But as he leaned down to
get his face closer to it, it shrank as if retreating away from him, and
the rest of his body twisted against the effort. His chest began to
swell, blocking his view of his far-shrunk penis entirely, and he could
do naught but allow the transformative sensation take him once more. In
his erotic haze, he struggled for a few minutes trying to send out the
distress call to Ian, after which he finally allowed himself to be
absorbed in the not-quite satisfying pleasure of the vibrator he found in
his mother's bedroom.
Ian walked hurriedly in the rain, a scowl on his face - his was getting
ridiculous. Seducing him - nigh-on raping at times - then treating him
like shit for giving in, ignoring him for weeks at a time, only
contacting him for emergency booty calls that he would inevitably be
chewed out and yelled at for… even when Ian dropped everything to help
him. The sex was amazing, and Joel was probably the hottest woman Ian had
ever seen, but the downsides were starting to grate on his nerves.
Ian didn't exactly lead a stress-free life, and Joel was pretty much his
only friend at school - having Joel absent, or actively avoiding talking
to anyone, meant Ian was basically an outcast there. His schoolwork
wasn't going great because he was using his evenings to de-stress after
his regularly-torturous days, and as if that wasn't enough to rile his
parents up, he'd just ditched a family meal with a visiting aunt to go
bail out Joel because apparently his friend couldn't keep it in his
pants. As he approached Joel's door, his scowl only deepened.
After Ian had rung the doorbell there came from inside the house a series
of fast, heavy footsteps, followed by a series of louder bangs and
crashes. The door opened after a short silence, and Joel, hair all over
the place and clothes in a similar state of disarray, clutched tightly
onto the door. Ian looked down at the beautiful, ragged creature in front
of him with a frown. To think that this was what his friend, the Joel he
had looked up to, had been reduced to - it was a betrayal of the terms of
their friendship, of the admiration that was rapidly slipping away as the
months passed without Ian seeing Joel other than in this pitifully
dependent form.
Joel dragged Ian into the house, knocking the door closed but otherwise
paying no attention to anything else. As Joel was trying to tear Ian's
shirt from his chest, breaking off a button in the process, Ian lost his
patience and pushed Joel to the couch. Joel's eyes were now filled with
confusion and surprise in addition to the ever-present lust, but quickly
the former two were banished with a squeal as Ian unzipped his pants and
his cock came into view. Joel had only been wearing a hastily-thrown on
pair of boxer shorts to answer the door, so Ian pulled them off one leg
and, Joel needing nothing in the way of foreplay after the last half hour
of seeking satisfaction, buried himself inside in one thrust.
Joel's eyes clamped shut, and his teeth dug into his plump bottom lip as
a barely-stifled moan escaped him. Ian spent a moment looking down at
Joel, the shuddering female form's resistance and apprehension washed
away in an instant by the penetration, and his anger surged again.
He adjusted himself on the couch, getting into position and hoisting
Joel's legs up, before he began pumping furiously, not only pursuing his
own release but establishing in his mind the relationship of power
between them - he was the dominant one here, he was in control, and this
slut was just the air-headed, subservient receptacle of his anger and
lust.
Tired of being used for Joel's release, under Joel's terms, he was now
just taking what he wanted, as he wanted. Caught between his two sources
of anger - this brainless supermodel stealing his best friend away over
the past few months, and how the once-idolised Joel had been reduced to
this same creature, this sex toy of flesh and bone - he indulged his
overflowing emotions as best he could.
Joel's body, however, had been made for it. Completely oblivious of Ian's
emotional state, Joel had all other thoughts utterly absent from his
mind, entirely consumed by the pleasure once more. The unrelenting force
with which Ian ravaged Joel made sure that nothing resembling rational
thought could resurface during the bestial act. It was all over in a
matter of minutes, as Ian had no interest in prolonging or luxuriating.
He took in a sharp, sudden breath, soaking in the smell of sweat and sex,
and then let himself finish inside, his white hot juices mixing with
Joel's. He let Joel's legs go and leaned back, separating them again. He
sat there, panting, as Joel shook violently, overtaken with orgasmic
bliss.
Though sated, the bitterness and resentment had yet to fully be exorcised
from him. He sneered as he looked down at Joel's dopey face in the
afterglow. "Just stay a woman and save us both the damn hassle! Cock-
hungry fucking slut." With that, he wiped himself off on her leg, pulled
up his pants again, and stormed out. Jo had registered the words, but
wouldn't yet realise the significance until a short while later - when,
as the afterglow faded, she realised that her body wasn't reverting. She
sat up with a start as the realisation hit her. That fucking idiot, she
thought in horror - though the thought of him and the brutal ravishing
she'd received tempered her anger somewhat, and a grin spread across her
face that quickly disappeared again as she caught herself in the thought.
Nadine
- 04.05.2022
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