London at night looked an awful lot like someone had scattered glitter over a black canvas and called it 'art'. Blair Hallewell swirled her drink and stared through the floor-to-ceiling windows that encircled her penthouse suite. She felt like a fucking queen up here, though one with better taste than the real deal since she didn't have gold leaf stuffed into every corner. Hers was a kingdom of black glass, brushed steel, and some damn fine leather sofas. All sharp angles, like her face. A few gothic and occult knick-knacks littered the shelves and tables: some tourist tat she'd picked up on a whim, and some... well, a girl had to have hobbies.
Such as the demonic summoning circle she'd painstakingly painted onto the floor. Hey, it was less evil - and more fun - than buying up property and fucking everyone over, like her folks did.
Blair pulled herself away from the window and sauntered across the room, her bare feet padding across dark polished wood. Bare feet, bare legs, bare
everything
. Not a scrap of clothing on her alabaster-white figure unless you counted the thick leather choker. Thin black chains hung from her neck and draped over her full chest and down to tiny, sparkling ruby pendants. And those were just because Blair was in a dramatic mood - usually, she skipped the jewellery and lounged around in nothing at all.
Not like anyone could see her at this height, and if they could, who the fuck cared? Let them get an eyeful if they wanted. It was her place, and she had nothing to hide. If anything, Blair had plenty to show. Sure, she wasn't some silicone-infused supermodel with nothing between the ears, but she had enough to get what she wanted when she wanted.
And what Blair wanted was a good, hard fuck.
She downed the last of her Black Maria - vodka, rum, and coffee, perfect for getting absolutely fucked up - and slammed the tumbler onto a basalt countertop. No time like the present.
Snatching her grimoire from the coffee table, Blair flicked through it until her finger landed on her all-time favourite incantation. No names given, just pure dumb luck as to what came crawling out of the pit. Always made for
interesting
results. The anticipation alone was one of her favourite parts; big, small, strong, smart... with tails or horns or languid tongues to make her scream? Or one of those rare sorts with the fun appendages?
She licked her lips - black lipstick, of course - and the infernal speech of Hell rolled off her pierced tongue.
The lights flickered. Blair continued to read, calling on things no one should play with, curling their power around her finger like a leash and
tugging
at reality itself. A cold wind whipped through the apartment, sending goosebumps over her smooth skin as it clawed at her incredibly short midnight hair. The line in the circle burned with hellfire. Cruel voices and gnashing teeth filled Blair's ears, promising dark things and even nastier sensations. Pain, pleasure, forbidden knowledge...
She tightened her grip on the power, and a smirk crossed her thin lips as something resisted. She loved it when they fought back. Blair pulled, and thin wisps of smoke curled from the centre of her circle. Curls blossomed into plumes, bright orange embers swirling amidst the black clouds. The sharp smell of brimstone flooded Blair's senses as the world itself screamed in protest. Blair mentally told the world to go fuck itself; this was her night! With one last stanza of forbidden speech, she commanded her catch to take mortal form.
Yellow eyes peered through the smoke. The wind howled, swirling around the circle, whipping the blackness away, revealing a single, slender form. Royal purple skin stretched across lean muscle, fading into the dark pitch at his extremities. Sharp claws flexed, new to the world, glistening like polished onyx. Sharp teeth locked in a sadistic grin at odds with a delicate face. Long, black hair cascaded down his shoulders, almost to his waist.
The demon regarded Blair with a kind of haughty contempt in its eyes. Superior and eager to finish her off and take her soul.
"My mistress," He purred. Intricate silver jewellery around his neck and wrists tinkled as he dropped to one knee. "Your humble servant, Colryx of the Second Circle, awaits your command."
Blair tried not to let her smile show. Second Circle, namely Lust. A bit conventional, but appropriate. Though those boys from Fifth knew how to pound someone senseless. She clicked her tongue and gestured with one finger. "Up."
Colryx's eye twitched like she'd just picked up the wrong fork. He stood straight, towering a few inches above Blair, and cocked his feminine hip as she appraised him. He looked like the front runner for a gothic boyband - cute and slender and definitely sporting a touch of whatever passed for eyeliner in Hell. A nice big set of horns, though, rising gracefully from temples and curling into ridged s-shapes. Blair bit her lip and smirked; he'd do just fine.
"Alright then, Col," She said, sauntering around the circle with enough sway in her hips to draw his attention downwards. "I'm looking for a little fun tonight. What can you give me that no one else can?"
"
Colryx
," He hissed. Gesturing down his body, Colryx spoke with a low, husky growl. "I'm one of the prime incubi of the realm, trained in the most unholy arts of pleasure. I can bring nations to their knees with a flick of my tongue or a lash of my whip, if you so desire. I command every carnal sin. I can make you forget your very name with but a single stroke. Or I can reduce your enemies to nothing but puppets of-"
"Uh-huh." Blair rolled her eyes. Ugh, one of
those.
All pomp and no substance. She pretended to examine her nails. "That's a lot of words, but not a lot of action. Come on, show me what you've got."
Colryx irritably blew a strand of hair out of his face. He snapped his fingers, and the thin silk loincloth at his waist burned like a dozen cigarette butts had been stamped into it. The ashes fluttered down, revealing what was probably his pride and joy. Long and thick and, in Blair's experience, probably a grower. Purple skin that darkened toward the tip, swaying with every cock of Colryx's hips, a matching set of heavy balls swinging beneath. It was almost comical on a trim frame like his.
Her cunt ached at the sight of it. A good,
needy
ache. But she wasn't going to let him know that.
"Well, mistress?" Colryx dragged a nail down his shaft. "Will this suffice in slaking your thirst?"
Blair shrugged. It was worth it to see Colryx's barely restrained splutter and seething stare. She smiled coyly back and turned on the sarcasm. "I bet that works on every girl, huh?"
"You dare mock me, mortal?" He snapped.
"That's
