Author's note: This is a work of fiction. All characters are eighteen years or older. Anal sex and group sex are major themes throughout this series, so you might want to consider reading something else if you're not into that sort of stuff. Think of this as a silly, smutty parody of a few fantasy cliches. Don't expect epic tones or anything even vaguely resembling seriousness and you won't be disappointed when you don't find them! Enjoy!
*****
Moving briskly in the shadows as if hiding from the moonlight, a hooded figure turned the corner into a narrow smelly alley leading to the most dilapidated slum of the most glorious city in the Empire.
A passer-by glancing at the fine cloth and exquisite embroidery of the ample gray cape enveloping the mysterious individual from head to toe could easily guess that the person was a human, and a well-off one at that. Still, the figure didn't seem to be out of place in the poorest, worst part of the Capitol. Ignoring filthy beggars and cheap whores, dodging staggering drunks and the occasional raging gambler down on his luck, the cloaked form proceeded rapidly into the bowels of the derelict neighborhood.
After being forced to sidestep and sprint away from a sequence of attempts at murder with intent of robbery perpetrated in three different alleys by three equally pathetic dagger-wielding ruffians, the hooded figure eventually stopped in front of a battered-looking building that, like every other structure in sight, seemed to stand only because it was pinned in place by the adjacent, similarly ill-maintained edifices.
Letting out a resigned sigh, hoping that the house wouldn't choose that precise moment to give up on its monumental struggle to survive and just crumble down in a shower of debris, the mysterious individual pushed the door open and stepped inside the building.
Once the door creaked closed, obliterating even the pale radiance of the moon outside, there was a moment of complete darkness. Then, ten feet above the floor, two red glowing orbs appeared in front of the hooded wanderer. A deep gravelly voice boomed out, reverberating from all around the darkened room.
"Who dares violate this sanctum of the Dark Arts?"
A flash of greenish flames danced like wildfire across the stone floor, illuminating the bestial bulk of a horned demon towering over the hooded intruder. The enormous black sword that the creature wielded, coupled with the unholy mixture of bull and wolf and ram all reshaped into the blasphemous semblance of a gigantic humanoid form, identified the demon as a Dread Praetorian, a member of the hellish race of monstrous brutes usually summoned by warlocks to serve as soldiers or personal bodyguards.
Stomping forward and grinding his wicked claws on the floor at each step, the praetorian leaned down until his crimson eyes were level with the mysterious figure's face. Exhaling his foul sulfurous breath into the stranger's hood, letting the soon-to-be-dead intruder take a good look at his humongous saber-like fangs before he savaged that soft puny body with them, the hulking demon took a moment to sniff the cloaked human with his wolfish snout. The monster's bestial maw contorted in the mockery of a smile as he let out what might have been a delighted chuckle.
"Urhh urhh! Praise the Nameless One," the demon gloatingly growled, already reaching a twisted hand to his crotch, "a young human female! I won't use my teeth to rip you apart after all..."
Without wasting a moment, the fiend took off the loincloth wrapped around his groin, letting his horrid, monstrously huge penis spring out. Unfazed neither by the sight of that deep green gnarly pole nor by the sticky yellow fluid oozing out of its immense tip, the hooded woman remained impassive, exhaling in bored annoyance. Gnashing his fangs, the demon stood to his full height, thus making his humongous erection throb right before her face. The cloaked intruder just snorted.
As the praetorian extended his huge black hands to grab her, the stranger uttered a short word in the language of magic and disappeared, blinking out of existence for a second only to reappear a few feet away, out of the demon's reach.
"A female mage?! Ghaaargh! I hate mortal spellcasters!" the demon howled, already charging toward the cloaked sorceress, frothing at the mouth. "I'll fuck you only to the brink of death, then I'll flay your skin and eat your bleeding flesh while I watch you drown in a puddle of my seed!"
Before the praetorian could get to her, the wizardess threw back her hood, uncovering her raven-haired head, and shrugged the cloak off her shoulders, revealing her gorgeous curvy form.
Her knee-length, perfectly tailored azure tunic clung to her body like a second skin, enhancing her hourglass figure and her long shapely legs. Her big jutting tits, showcased by the plunging neckline of her tunic, jiggled enticingly as she straightened her back and turned up her delicate oval visage to look straight into the approaching demon's hideous face. There was no fear in the wizardess's deep blue eyes as she met the fiend's crimson stare, the hint of a snicker dancing on her pouty lips instead.
Her long jet-black hair flew around her as she tapped into the arcane energies humming just underneath the surface of reality. Channeling the aetheric flows and charging her whole being with crackling magic in the blink of an eye, the wizardess intoned a brief cantrip and raised a long-fingered hand up high. Tracing a glyph in the air, she yelled out a few strange syllables at the top of her voice, sealing her incantation with a final devastating word of power.
The brutish demon recoiled and fell back on his ass as the spell of command that the sorceress had just unleashed upon him in his sacrilegious native language reverberated inside his skull, overpowering him and making his foul hard-on go limp in a heartbeat. Through the painful haze clouding his twisted brain, the praetorian focused his red eyes on the human female standing in front of him, trying to take in those features.
"Cut the watchdog crap, Xulzlor!" the young woman spat as she closed in on the domesticated fiend. "And by the way, calling this shithole a 'sanctum' of any kind is just plain idiotic."
A sort of animalistic gurgle that might have resembled a sigh escaped the demon's slack maw. His wolfish ears lowered in obeisance as soon as he heard and recognized the wizardess's husky voice.
"M-m-mistress Shayla!" the demon stuttered, groggily standing up as his trunk-like legs wobbled underneath his bulky form. With something akin to embarrassment painted on his monstrous face, the praetorian retrieved his discarded loincloth and quickly put it on again. "I apologize, mistress, but the master said he is not to be disturbed and all intruders must die a horrible, painful death..."
There was something comical about the hulking fiend's meekness as he hung his head before the wizardess that, years before, had assisted his master in the ritual of summoning that brought him to the plane of existence where humans and all the other mortal races lived. The praetorian had not seen Shayla in a long while, but that mattered little: a demon's servitude to his evokers is eternal unless the summoners themselves choose to break it.
"Sure, of course he'd tell you to say something like that..." Shayla said dismissively. "Well, too bad, because I mean to disturb him, and then some."
Summoning a floating globe of magical radiance to light her way, the wizardess crossed the room and reached the bottom of the rickety wooden staircase that led to the upper floors. Snorting deprecatingly, talking more to herself than to the demonic guard, she murmured: "I assume he's wasting his time with yet another demented idea to find the ultimate binding ritual so he can enslave the Nameless One himself and conquer the world, isn't he?"
Without waiting for the praetorian's reply, tut-tutting and shaking her head in disapproval, Shayla tested the first step, pressing the heel of an elegant black leather boot on the creaking board. Finding the wood unsteady but not as rotted as she expected, she exhaled and briskly ascended the stairs.
"Just don't let me see that disgusting dick of yours ever again, Xulzlor. Never," the wizardess said menacingly over her shoulder before disappearing into the hallway upstairs, "or I'll blast a fireball straight at it."
For a moment the befuddled fiend just stood there frowning, still half-stunned and with his fanged maw hanging slackly open. A pang of guilt hit him, a magically conditioned reaction for not having been able to tell his mistress everything she needed to hear. After Shayla had vanished from sight though, the praetorian got a better grip on his demonic self and shrugged his bull-like shoulders.
"Urgh, no matter. She'll see for herself soon enough."
Picking up his cursed black blade and casting a new spell of darkness on the room, Xulzlor let the evil red radiance in his eyes dim completely out while he still held his eyelids open. Leaning onto his gigantic sword as he allowed himself a grunt of contentment, the praetorian resumed his guarding duties with a much needed nap. It amused him to think that neither human nor elven nor dwarven guards had yet learned how to stand on their feet while sleeping without closing their eyes.
