A 'XXXecil for hire' story commission
*
A cackle erupted from the throat of a smoke-shrouded man as he waved his arms in fluid circuits above the dun-colored stone floor. His face was adorned with black eye-paint made from tar that had suffocated a virgin. His nose and lips were pierced with rings forged from molten metal harvested from the charred wreckage of a fatal house fire. Though nearly hoarse from chanting the invocations of direst wickedness, neither pain, fear, or any lingering vestige of morality would deter Erebus Cain from his blasphemous objective.
Channels had been pain-painstakingly etched into the floor, which allowed the blood of tortured goats to flow into intricate pathways of arcane symbolism. The dark red candles that flickered as they emitted their slow heat came from wax that had been rendered from the fat of seven condemned mass-murderers from around the world. Each one had escaped prison to kill again before being recaptured and finally executed.
A burning brazier to his left hissed with burning coals and red-hot metal. It contained an amulet inscribed with an arcane rune written in a forbidden language whose last speakers had been slaughtered for Witchcraft in a distant eon before the Egyptians raised their pyramids.
""Esh' Ult-kra' athrah! Esh' Ult-kra' naka thok! Sarai'erothkok! Sarai'erothkok!" Howled Erebus Cain in the same forbidden witch-tongue of ancient horror found in blood-inscribed texts thought burned in the great library of Alexandria. Erebus took the red-hot amulet from the fires and looped the sizzling chain around his own neck. Laughing, cackling in delight - knowing the power that would soon be his.
He knew that sexual excitement was necessary to resist torture, and through years of grueling preparation and mutilation, he was able to muster up his arousal despite the roasting of his own flesh. He must keep the burning medallion in place for six-hundred and sixty-six seconds. His mind partitioned itself as Erebus enveloped himself in the suicidal certainty of the insane. He laughed yet again in delight at his own power and control as his mighty penis surged yet fuller, harder and longer in the midst of this withering torment.
It was working; the pool of mingled blood in the center of the Circle began to bubble and swirl as his penis lengthened. The blood burst into flames suddenly, and without thermodynamic provocation as unwholesome shapes thrashed and rippled within the sanguine mass. Then, the shapes changed. They became more human-like, arms? Was that a shoulder? Soon a head appeared. The blood oozed as if flowing away from a form within it, yet not a trace of skin could be seen beneath, it was a face formed entirely from blood itself. A face... a woman's face rose from the pool.
For no logical reason, the room grew dangerously cold in mere moments. The temperature seemed to drop at least fifty degrees in less time than it took to say it. As if some dreadful, lurking power was displaying utter contempt for the pathetic laws of nature. And so from the pool emerged a bust of a glorious woman carved in blood. A perfect sculpture of an impossibly beautiful woman carved in an equally impossible medium.
Now was the test, all would be lost if Erebus could not maintain his male prowess for the proscribed length of time, all the while the skin of his chest charred. But in moments more, his mental count concluded, and it was time for the next step to begin. Chest heaving, skin flush with heat and sweat, Erebus Cain stepped forward and pressed his hardening cock to the plump lips of the unnatural sculpture. The mouth made of solid blood opened, and bitter cold assailed him as the form began to suck him off. His every nerve screamed out in delicious torture from the diametric contrast of these physical extremes; flesh burning as his manhood froze. The anguish was almost sufficient to dampen his male resolve.
Almost.
But then she arose.
He had never seen a woman so voluptuous and yet so tall, the she-devil stood a few inches short of seven feet in height, yet the sweeping splendor of her gorgeous form was more ripe and randy than any porn-slut could hope to achieve. She emerged from the center of the circle, the blood did not drip off of her, but rather seemed to... become her. Erebus's willingness and ability to remain aroused under such extreme conditions secured the magic, and summoned this feminine abomination from beyond space and time. The pool of blood was barely two inches deep, yet the demoness somehow emerged as if climbing an invisible staircase up to her full, unearthly height.
After centuries of evil and seduction her skin was still every bit as silky and supple now as it had been a millennia ago. Her breasts were massive, high, perky and temptingly round. Erebus's eyes were riveted to her devilish endowments as they defied both morality and physics as the massive melons swayed brazenly before his eyes. Only with both thumbs touching would the summoner be able to encompass the mammalian grandeur of each tit. He snarled with an animal urge to bury his face in that pencil-swallowing natural cleavage that her bosom maintained even without the benefit of a bra. Cascades of ruby-red hair trailed onto each sweeping breast like lava down a volcano slope.
Bat-like black and red wings unfolded luxuriously as she swayed her red tail. It was not the mythical arrow-pointed devil's tail, the end was more like a scorpion's stinger.
"Mistress of Flame and Lust..." Erebus began.
"I am yours to command..." The demoness purred in a voice to send tingles along the penis.
