Author's Note: It's been a very very Very long time since I've posted. Writer's block. Be kind please! Enjoy!
* * * * * * * * * * *
The problem with owning a demon book is deciding which demon to summon first. Dahlia did not have such a problem. At the Nocturne Academy there were demon books and more to pick from. She was one of the noble caste with blood as blue as the deepest sapphire but with no money it was simple which demon she wanted.
Her problem was this: Dahlia while being a beautiful young lady with porcelain skin, long ebony hair and rare turquoise eyes, when it came to marriage prospects she had little. From the bluest of blood, descendent from old Emperors, her family was destitute. Her father had gambled away the last of their savings. As such one day he bet the last thing of value that he had: Dahlia, his daughter.
Who had won her? None other than Duke Heston of Babenburg. A man so wealthy he could fill the Trident Sea. Face fleshy and sagging from years of overindulgence with wine and brandy. Fat and bald except for the frail wires of white hair sparsely scattered on his head. Because of his lecherous ways he contracted syphilis causing his nose to fall off. In its place was a golden one which only made his skin seem more sickly with it's splendor.
The day she first met him skin went cold and she had to swallow the sick lump in her throat once those rheumy eyes leered at her. Once his gaze landed on the swell of her breasts he smacked his thin lips loudly. He surveyed her as a man did a horse he was about to purchase. He simply would not do!
Dahlia knew she could do better than an old lascivious duke. She had tried to court many of the eligible young men at the academy. Unfortunately, the simple merchant class would lower her station while the highest nobility offered her a place as their mistress. She scorned those offers.
Suddenly she realized that she was in a school of magic! There was definitely something that could solve her money problems here! So she went hunting in the forbidden section of the library finding a book of demons that could help with a range of mortal issues. From a cure for toothache to becoming the most powerful being in the world, Dahlia searched its dusty old pages.
The night came of the Blood Moon. Everyone was asleep except for a few of the spirits and familiars that liked to haunt the school halls while the students and teachers slept. Dahlia decided to do her summoning in her private washroom. Her roommate Zophia would be spending the night in her betrothed's room leaving her in peace to try her spell.
Just to be sure, Dahlia placed a privacy charm on the room so that anyone who happened to be awake or pass by wouldn't hear a thing. She took out the items: a new chalk piece, 4 red candles set up at the 4 cardinal points. Taking the chalk she scraped out the circle upon the once flawless jade green tiles. She could clean it with magic before the maids came in the morning.
Next she unhooked the buttons of her white nightdress. The fabric had worn thin recently showing tiny holes. It was a conservative piece that buttoned at the top of her throat and always felt like she was choking. But given the colder nights she had to use it. Otherwise she would have slept naked.
The delicate dress was carefully folded and set to the side leaving her completely naked to the mirror. She had a slender figure with pert curves and shapely legs. Her breasts while not big were round and high coned. Soft and crowned with pale pink nipples. Her long black hair shimmered down to her lower back shielding most of her from the chill.
An electricity hummed in the air making her hair raise along her arms. She opened the book and the humming increased in intensity. It vibrated through her core and Dahlia began to second guess her strategy. But images of Duke Heston laboring over her with his fat gut had acid rushing up her throat so fast her body convulsed with sickness.
"No turning back... It's now or never," she hissed. She took out a small knife, its silver blade winked in the flickering candle light. She made a tiny cut on her thumb writing her desire in her blood on the floor. Her finger throbbed and she took the injured digit into her mouth to soothe it. Often a demon summoning ritual called for bodily fluids. She was thankful it didn't call for menstrual blood like some do.
Dahlia then took out a glass bottle of sapphire blue and poured the fragrant contents onto her hand while chanting the ancient text in a low, throaty voice. The bottle contained fragrant oil of jasmine and lavender. The aroma was sweet, voluptuous, the oil warm as she anointed her brow, her lips that kept moving in their incantations. Then to her throat, her heart, all the way down to her womb.
Her voice, the scent and feel of the oil served to hypnotize Dahlia. She even caressed an oiled fingertip over her clit. The bud began to swell with the attention. Which led to the final part that was much more pleasant. Laying down within the center of the circle which was large and wide enough to hold her body she stared up at the ceiling, studded with constellations and planets that moved with magic.
Dahlia was completely exposed but not afraid. With a deep breath of determination she spread her legs as if in presentation to a lover. Her fingers raked over her body, now thrumming with desire. She found it strange that she had to do this to draw out a demon of fortune but the demonologists are her school were often strange. She knew they held Sabbaths where they would prance about naked wearing nothing but animal skulls and pelts while shrieking into the night. Who knows what sort of sexually deviancy took place there. Goosebumps raised on her arms and legs at those thoughts.
Coming back to the task at hand, Dahlia skimmed her finger nails down her thighs. Her legs fell gracefully allowing her to playfully tease the inside of her thighs that began to ache with anticipation. She began imagining the handsome school stable hand, Finn. Hair as golden as straw and strong arms bulging every time he shoveled manure.
Dahlia gasped convulsively. Her fingers stroked across her lips, dipping between the seam imagining it was Finn. Once she caught him rutting with a girl from the kitchen. They were sweet hearts. Dahlia loved riding and often hid in the stables above where all the hay was stored. One time she heard muffled pants and incoherent words furtively whispered coming from below her. She turned over in time to see the girl with her hand wrapped around Finn's thick member.
Dew gathered in her cunt, lubricating her fingers. Her blood hummed and skin tightened with heat. Dahlia circled around her clit, her breath shuddering at the memory. This time instead of the kitchen girl it was her with Finn. Finn kissing her deeply, his tongue fucking into her mouth as he backed her into the empty stall. It all felt so real. She could feel every sensation. His fingers, thick and masculine were ripping into her bodice to set free her breasts. White mounds already tender to his touch. His callouses were abrasive against her porcelain skin.
The fantasy deepened. She could smell the hay, the horses and male musk. Biting her lip, tasting the flowery oil she felt a wetness on her palm and fingers. Finn's crown was leaking with pre-cum, the silky liquid making her strokes glide smoother up and down his length. Dahlia's heart pounded in her ears. She needed more. Her core gushed with fire. The strong man pushed her down, tripping down with her with only the hay to break their fall.
Finn broke the kiss in her fantasy, but his lips did not stop kissing her. Dahlia groaned at his mouth hot and breathy on her throat. She spread her legs to welcome him, his hips cradled by hers as his mouth ravaged her exposed breasts with kisses.
In the real world, Dahlia rubbed her fingers fiercely into her cunt. She was consumed with an insatiable hunger that had been buried deep within her until this moment. She imagined Finn sucking and nibbling at her nipples until they were taut red buds. She could practically feel his cock branding the inside of her leg as he worshipped her breasts.
"Mmmmmm," Dahlia hummed with delight. Her palm rubbed against her clit, the bud slippery and pulsating with her excitement. Finn in her fantasy pushed up her skirts until they were wrapped around her hips. Her femininity exposed and begging for him to fill her.
Dahlia's skin tingled with the dark energy crackling like a fresh flame burning in a fireplace. She dug her fingers into her breast, the pain merging with the pleasure to thrill her so much she was soaking her hand. Finn in her dream felt pressed his maleness into her entrance and... Fuuuuuuck!
Dahlia pushed her finger deeper inside her but one finger was not enough. Whimpering into the void she pushed two, then three fingers to fill her. Silken heat fluttered around her thrusting fingers. She arched her back to drive her imaginary lover deeper. Licking her dry lips she sighed. The energy in the air thickened with her womanly musk combining with the robust sounds of her breathing.
In her dream she wrapped her thighs around Finn's narrow hips as he stroked hard and deep inside her. Her hands caressed the sweat slickness of his back, then cupping and kneading the cheeks of his muscular buttocks. It all felt so real. Dahlia nearly arched off the floor, the dark, wicked energy whipping through her body bringing her closer to her peak of ecstasy.
Her cunt was boiling, her strokes increasing. Almost there. Something was happening. Dahlia could feel a presence. The face of her lover changed. He became faceless. Her focus centered on the pressure between her thighs where all sensation began and ended. Her goals, her family, her ugly fiancé disappeared. All that mattered was the pleasure.
Something or someone was huffing in her ear, a voice darker, more ancient and seductive than any mortal man. She couldn't understand the words but felt the lust bubbling behind them. Her fingers seemed to thicken and she curled them until they were scratching at her inner heaven. Her lover's laughter, wicked and sinister curled in her ear as her pleasure reached its crescendo. Sparks of sensation flooded her every nerve, sparkling like champagne and filling her with an otherworldly euphoria.
A burst of energy filled the room. So powerful that the candles snuffed out in a quiet hiss leaving the room pitch black. Dahlia's body, covered in a fine sheen of sweat, collapsed onto the marble floor. The cool tiles soothing to her overheated flesh. She looked around and muttered, "Lummus." Instantly the candles were lit again, shadows dancing in the corners as the flames flickered. And in the darkness she saw... no one.
* * * * * * * * *
Dahlia couldn't suppress her disappointment. She felt ridiculous! Demon summoning was supposed to be easy! She had all the tools. What went wrong? Fuming she washed herself then slipped on her white thread bare night gown. The castle was warmed by magic so often she got hot easily. The fabric clung to her damp body, her nipples still puckering as she climbed into bed.
"I suppose it's time to conjure up another plan," she muttered. Her thoughts were so muddled that she thought she would never get any rest. Yet somehow Dahlia slipped easily into the dark oblivion of sleep. Darkness. Cool and comforting. She dreamt of nothing just her soul wandering through a starless night until she felt a warm current of electricity buzzing through her.
Voices. Distant, incoherent voices bouncing off the walls in her mind. Still she could see nothing. All sensation focused on the mysterious heat tingling along her skin. Then, smooth, large palms glided along her body. Lips as delicate and elusive as butterfly wings danced along her throat and chest. Dahlia groaned, turning her face to chase those butterflies.
