I was freezing my ass off.
My nose had lost feeling, my fingers were stiff with cold even through my gloves, and my ass was about to fall off entirely. This was not helped by my being on horseback, bouncing in a saddle as my mount trotted along a snow-covered trail. This particular trip marked only the third time in my life I had been in a saddle, and as the first two times happened when I was six years old or so, my body had forgotten what it was like. My thighs had gone numb ages ago.
The route ran through the Trail of Tears State Park, and despite the tragic history of the location, the scenery was gorgeous. The couple inches of snow on the ground had fallen only a few days before, and with the temperature hovering right below freezing, it had melted and refrozen just enough that my steed's hoofs crunched through it with a satisfying sound. The air was still enough that the only windchill was from the steady pace we set as we worked our way through the heavily wooded hills towards the evening's campsite.
Hanging on behind me, her arms wrapped around my waist, was the Sin Demon I had--in a moment of panicked lack of creativity--named 'Cindy'. Barely five feet tall and slender, by all appearances she should be the one to be suffering the most from the wintery weather. The coat and jeans she wore were barely sufficient to ward off an early winter chill, let alone the mid-February freeze we were currently experiencing, but she hadn't even bothered with a hat for her color-streaked blonde hair. Indeed, the way her lissome body clung to my much larger back was for my benefit rather than hers. Heat radiated from her and helped ward off the ongoing and pervasive chill that would otherwise have soaked through me.
The hells, it turned out, ran hot.
Hell was not where I would normally have turned for companionship, but I had discovered the year before that not everyone was quite so discerning. In the course of investigating some 'spooky shit' in my apartment complex at the behest of my landlady, I'd come across the half-finished ritual that summoned Cindy and had been faced with a choice: either allow the ritual to fall apart on its own, or complete it myself. Since my native magic informed me that the former would have come at the cost of some kind of unspecified terrible devastation, I had opted for the latter.
Her shape had been decided in the already-completed half of the ritual, before her original summoner--Mycah, one of my apartment complex neighbors--succumbed to his own stupidity, hormones, or both. He'd stepped into the still-active ritual circle as his final act on Earth.
I technically didn't know if he was actually dead. He hadn't left a body, and I hadn't yet brought myself to ask Cindy about his fate.
What I hadn't realized when frantically tapping into my Gift to navigate the successful completion of the summoning ritual was that I was not only binding Cindy to prevent her from wreaking havoc on the world, I was specifically tethering her to myself. It had become my duty to ensure that she received her daily allotment of Sin.
Of the seven options available to me, Lust was the easiest to generate in sufficient quantities. Cindy was quite vocally enthusiastic about the process, and in the past week alone had called herself my 'sex slave', 'fuck toy', 'cum dump', and--on one occasion--'horny little demon butt slut'.
Cindy had many qualities. Subtlety was not one of them.
For most of the morning, she snuggled herself lazily against my back in the full grip of Sloth. As the day had gone on, though, she had increasingly been growing more awake and frisky. Since the cold pushed Lust into the dark corners of my mind, her behavior served as a barometer for another companion's state. I would need to deal with that when I got back to camp.
With that in mind, I took one last glance through the essence dowser I carried. The device's simple appearance, formed of two thin metal rods entwined at one end to form a handle that branched off into a 'v', resembled that of dowsing rods of legend. More traditional dowsing rods were made of wood, and were mostly used by con men and grifters who claimed to be able to use them to find underground water. Mine was crafted by a proper wizard, and was used to find traces of magic.
On this occasion, though, the only signs of anything supernatural were the ones I brought with me--I'd caught an occasional glimpse of faded auras by peering through the triangle formed by the two rods throughout the day, but nothing close to the bright colors I'd been searching for. I tugged at the reins lightly and prepared to head to camp.
My arrival at the campsite was greeted by a warm smile from Aubrette. The tall redhead's long green dress wouldn't have looked out of place at a ren faire, though the tent behind her was far more modern. She was seated on a stool beside the campfire with a small table set in front of her. As I watched, she finished chopping a turnip into chunks and tipped it into a large pot that hung off the same pole over the fire as an entire plucked chicken.
The knife fell from her hand as she rose, but never touched the ground. Instead, it dropped out of sight as though vanishing behind a screen as Aubrette stopped maintaining the magic she had used to conjure it. The High Sidhe delivered a courtly bow as I approached and dismounted. "My lord."
"Hey Aubrette. Zarina out setting up wards?"
"Indeed, my Lord. She will be perhaps another twenty or thirty minutes before returning. Your supper will take slightly longer, though I suspect you shall not notice its absence."
It took a moment for me to realize what she was referring to. While Cindy had dismounted with me and was approaching from behind, the sound of the tent's zipper meant that my mount had something other than rest and relaxation in mind. "Ah, duty calls. We'll have a talk about next steps when we're all here, but in the meantime, I have a Puca to reward."
"Even so, my Lord Jack. Your meal will be ready when you emerge." Left unsaid was that the insatiable voyeur of a Sidhe would tap into the Glamour I fed her through her bond of service to watch everything that happened inside the tent.
I walked close enough to lean in and brush my lips across hers. Even in the cold, after a day spent in the woods, she tasted of honey and spring flowers. I went in for another taste, but while the tall redhead was more than willing to indulge, the tiny blonde behind me was not so forgiving. When I felt shockingly strong hands begin to push me towards the tent, I had no choice but to move in that direction.
Despite my protests, I was looking forward to getting to the tent. Rose and I had discovered that the ancient Puca magic that bound her to my service had many facets and flexible definitions. For example, while she was my mount and I her rider, that applied equally to the bedroom as to galloping through snow covered woods. That drive compelled her to serve in either capacity, but it didn't seem to differentiate particularly between the two.
I pushed through the tent flap and stepped inside. The interior of the tent was pleasantly warm--courtesy of Zarina's magic, no doubt--which quickly thawed my extremities and enabled Rose to greet me in a way that made clear her intentions.
That the Puca's ass was in the air, wiggling slowly from side to side in invitation was unsubtle enough, but she had reached back between her thighs to play with the glistening lips of her soaking wet cunt. After hours of riding through the woods, she was more than ready for a good hard fuck, and had no problem making that clear.
Where Cindy had the slender athletic build of a gymnast or a ballerina, Rose was five feet and three inches of soft feminine curves--at least in her 'human' form. Her breasts were larger than her head and bulged out to either side beneath her torso. The ass that greeted me was full and round, and the fact that her stomach wasn't perfectly flat and her thighs were thick only served to drive home the point that she was a walking example of an ancient ideal.
Rose was built to fuck.
My pants dropped to my knees as I positioned myself behind her, and without foreplay or warning I sank my cock into her pretty pink pussy in a single thrust. A long blissful moan escaped her lips as she shoved herself back to take me to the hilt. I slapped against her ass loudly but couldn't be bothered to worry about the others hearing--Aubrette's voyeuristic nature meant she was almost certainly already watching, while Cindy's connection to Lust meant she knew what was going to happen before we even reached the camp. There was a reason she was so insistent that I not linger with Aubrette.
I swiftly fell into a familiar rhythm. It was the same one I'd been experiencing all day as rider and mount, only interpreted through a very different lens. I rode Rose at a gallop and she responded with enthusiasm. Each thrust of my cock was greeted by the welcome embrace of a channel that rippled and squeezed around it as though welcoming it home, as I fucked the Puca hard, fast, and with no small amount of glee.
Compared to Cindy's somewhat performative enthusiasm, Rose was fun to fuck. Not that I didn't enjoy what the Sin Demon had to offer--far from it--but she was interested in Lust over everything else. She was willing to accommodate anything I might have in mind, but the fact that her desires were so obviously shaped by her nature was hard to ignore. The Puca, by comparison, wanted to have a good time. In this case, that meant exploring the depths of her greedy pussy, but her general approach to life was refreshingly hedonistic and straightforward. It made her easy company in general, and meant that I didn't feel worried when my orgasm approached rather swiftly.
