I watched as the pentagram rippled, filling with smoke. It was, to understate things, weird; it was as though the gas was trying to escape, but kept running up hard into an invisible wall. The final effect was that of a moving, writhing column of black marble, undulating in front of me.
"I command thee, demon, take a form!" I was hopeful, at the time, that my voice didn't shake, or that I sounded at least in control. The reality of the situation was that I was both too young and too inexperienced with summoning to truly be comfortable doing it for myself.
Ah well. I suppose it worked out for me in the end.
Demons are... Focused, I believe the nearest term would be, on an individual sin- more specifically, depending on rank, one of the seven deadlies. When you choose to summon a demon, you have to include in your summons the specific type of demon you want, based on what you want them for- it would not do to try to destroy someone's livelihood with rage or avarice; better, much better to use lust or pride. But then, pride demons were dangerous- if you had the ability to summon one, you would be lucky if your protective charms would be strong enough to stop their effect on you.
Sorry, tangent. I am- or was- a relatively young caller, and I had stumbled across a passage of an ancient summoning ritual which isolated a series of demons that hadn't seen the light of day for a long time. Demons- I thought- of lust, of desire.
Now, don't roll your eyes. Desire demons take far too many forms to just say mine was a succubus thing- I didn't summon them just to get my rocks off. Lust demons are the deal makers, the insidious, the Djinn. They meet us humans at crossroads, grant us wishes, fulfil our dreams. They are exactly what you want them to be. Be careful what you wish for.
All of this being said, I had controlled the summons as best I could. I had several limitations on the ability of the demon to influence my mind, and a rather clever little charm that stopped the demon from focusing on anything too strenuously- just on the off chance I did actually summon a succubus or an incubus. I will say this right here and now, though; nothing could have prepared me for who I actually got.
The smoke condensed slowly, writhing, swirling, forming an elongated diamond shape before reforming into a humanoid form. Long, flowing hair- was it brown, or scarlet? It didn't help that the smoke was still distorting the images- an hourglass shaped torso complemented by an absolutely fantastic set of breasts. I thought it relatively safe to call it a she, but at this point I was a bit distracted as the smoke truly cleared.
I was right; her hair was red. Not strawberry blonde, not metallic, but halfway between copper and rust. Her skin was so pale it glowed in the darkness, and I could see her veins delicate and intricate underneath.
Her face was a miracle of beauty; high cheekbones and a heart shaped face framing the most penetrating pale brown eyes I had ever seen. Her bone structure was fine, the sort you occasionally see in French girls, but her body.
God, her body!
She might have appeared French in terms of her delicacy, but her body was all Latin. Her breasts hung down slightly, not sagging, but these babies were just too large to fully escape the effects of gravity. They swayed with her movements, lifting, bouncing, even rippling slightly when they came in contact with her chest.
From there my eyes followed her curvature down to her hips, which flared out from the narrowest of waists wildly. Let me make this clearer; no human, male or female, could refuse this woman, based on this feature alone. There is something about the way a woman's hips sway and move that make men lust and women pant, and I was mesmerised by her.
Her ass was delectable. I have never wanted to spank a girl before, but- god help me- I could almost feel my palm against the soft flesh of her cheeks; watching as the red mark flowered out over the pale skin. I shook my head, trying to recapture my sangfroid before it was too late.
She was feeling her way around the protective circle with her hands, probing, seeking holes. I smirked, watching her. Her nakedness and sheer sexiness made her body magnetic- even with clothes on, she would draw attention. I suppose my attraction was somewhat inevitable. She was kind of everything I wasn't. Where she was short, barely coming up to my shoulders, I was tall- her mouth was at the same height as my breasts, for god's sake! She was so pale, so stark; I was Latin, but dark. My mother was from Columbia, and my father was Nigerian. Her shape, despite my description, was tiny, and while completely in proportion she could have been a gymnast or a ballet dancer; I was tall, not bodybuilder, but strong. I worked out, and thus my body showed the signs of it. I was the sort of girl that guys find... intimidating. Most men cannot bring themselves to bed someone taller than themselves, so little wonder I liked girls more.
I never considered myself attractive, but if I looked into a mirror I could at least give myself a pass grade. I kept my hair long (really, why is it that the stereotype of lesbians involves shaved heads and masculine women? Or it involves someone like Katy Perry- the consummate male fantasy. Is there no in between in people's minds?) and my features were feminine enough, I suppose. I liked my eyes; twin pools of deep brown, just a shade or so darker than my skin. Sigh. I suppose I should describe my body as well then. My breasts were large enough to get in the way, so I almost constantly wore a pickup bra. I was toned, so my stomach was good- not six pack good; I never liked that perception of beauty. But I despaired of ever disposing of my ass.
I work our heaps. I am as healthy as I possibly can be. So why -WHY- can I not get rid of my ass? I mean, it is as big a j.lo's at its worst. Look, I know what you're saying- you're complaining about having a big ass, but I'm sure it looks fine, but you don't get it. I always have- had, I suppose. Kind of got lost in there, forgot what happened. Ah, well- to look out, make sure it looks okay at least. I can't wear skirts, for fucks sake, because no matter what they ride up whenever I bend over and there goes my dignity- usually straight to some old Italian gentlemen sitting on a park bench nearby. At least I make- or at least I hope I make- their days.
Anyhow, I'm sure you can see my attraction to this creature. Not only was she a lust demon- and trust me, anyone could get turned gay by this broad. I'm lucky I was already there- but she was everything I'm not.
She stopped her movements, and turned to look straight at me. Her eyes stared right into mine, and I struggled to keep mine level.
She broke the staring contest first- to my relief- and looked me up and down. I couldn't help feeling a little self conscious; I was wearing a set of track suit pants and a college band tee shirt.
"Hmmm..." She said, still inspecting me. "Given the summons I expected someone a bit older, and probably more male. They used to frown on the women using magic, but I can see times have changed a bit. Like clothing." Her gaze returned to my eyes, and I felt my face grow warm.
"Been a while since I've been topside here. Care to fill me in on the details here, miss?"
I was taken quite significantly aback by all this. Demons, even the most powerful ones you can think of, did not behave like this. They considered their time on our planet to be a burden, even if they did grab a few souls on the way back. This creature was... intriguing.
"What do you want to know?" I said, not even bothering to try and stay mastery about this- so cliché, the "do my will, demon!" And the "yes master"(usually in a silibiant whisper). Urggh! Repress gag reflex. Continue.
"Well, start with the year- and please don't tell me you're still using that anno domini crap still?"
"Well, would it help if I said we no long say the year of our lord?"
"Not really. I kind of wished that I'd been on the planet- or at least in the general vicinity- when that oaf was stirring up the Romans and the Jews. Would have shown him a thing or two." She licked her lips, revealing an almost blood red tongue. I couldn't help it; I sighed a little. She took no notice- at least, I hoped she didn't.
"2010."
The demon rolled her eyes. "And you humans still haven't let go of that sanctimonious crap? 'Oh, love one another as I have loved cheese'!"
I couldn't help it; I smiled a little. Repressing it a bit, I replied, "I don't think I remember that version."
"Well," she looked down, toying at the ground using her foot- goddamn it, even those were sexy- "it went a little differently than that, but he liked cheese. I mean, he really liked cheese."
I must have looked a bit nonplussed, because she straightened up and looked at me inquiringly.
"Are you going to tell me why you summoned me? I mean, it's nice and all- I haven't come out of my little crispy shell in a long time, but..." She looked at me expectantly.
