Worst Sex Demon Ever

The summoning circle stopped glowing brighter and held for a moment before an explosion of smoke filled the air. After a few coughs, he realized that it wasn't actually smoke in his lungs. There was heat but no burning smell. Still coughing, he opened his eyes and futilely attempted to wave away the... steam?

He couldn't see anything but that gray fog except for the tiny instant of a fist flying straight at his face. Then there was darkness.

He eventually regained consciousness and became very aware of the pain in his nose. After some wincing and coddling, he then became aware of the sound of clanking nearby. He sat up to find someone rummaging through his refrigerator.

The nude person had a petite, feminine body, skin that seemed to have a bluish tint to it, and a long, fleshy tail.

'Is this the demon I summoned?' he wondered, very confused by the fact that... well, quite frankly, confused by just about everything. He hadn't expected it to have actually worked, for starters, but he definitely hadn't expected to be immediately punched out.

'I thought she'd be red.'

"What are you looking for?" he called out.

"Meat," she replied casually. "FUCK!" She spun around and took a few steps toward him before continuing the angry shouting. "Who the fuck are you?" Her right hand pointed at him, and her left hand held a fried chicken leg.

'Heh. She's actually got horns, but they look the same as her skin. Flesh horns? And she's bald?'

In a fleeting thought, he found it an amusing site, but he thought it best not to laugh at her. She was noticeably muscular. Not beefy, but also not lithe, and he already got a taste of her strength. Kinda sexy, by his standards. Her breasts were on the small side, but very well-proportioned to her body. Very nice, smooth pussy too.

"Hey! Eyes up! Who the fuck are you?"

He wasn't exactly educated on rules for engaging with demons, but he'd heard that if you said a demon's name, then you had power over it. Too bad he didn't know her name, but in that instant, he wondered if the reverse was also true, so he decided to not reveal that potentially dangerous bit of info.

"Pretty sure I'm the one that summoned you."

"I didn't ask that, jackass. I want your name," she shouted.

"You first," he dared.

For an instant a look of surprise and fear flashed across her face, then it was back to anger, although slightly less so.

She turned sharply with a frustrated growl and stepped back to the open refrigerator.

"All I see is chicken. Where's the cow?" she asked rummaging further.

"Cow is in the freezer," he said in the process of standing up. He felt the sudden change of blood pressure in his already sensitive face. "Ouch."

She opened the lower smaller door and paused before pulling out a steak vacuum sealed in plastic.

"Fuck," she said and then tossed it into the nearby sink. She slammed both doors before punching the larger one several times as she shouted, "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!"

"HEY!" he finally shouted back at her. "Easy," he followed a little quieter.

She suddenly stopped, partially turned her head, and then sort of grunted, clearly not pleased by that choice. He felt a brief rush of fear. He hadn't intended to yell at her. It just came out as a reaction to her abusing his property.

She finished the chicken leg, tossed it into the sink, and then washed and dried her hands, which he found amusingly mundane, given all that's happened so far.

"I summoned you," he said, trying to redirect attention. "Aren't you supposed to grant me wishes, or something?"

"I'm not a fucking genie. I don't magically grant wishes." She was still mad, but much calmer as she answered. She didn't shout, at least.

"How the hell did you summon me? I was supposed to be unsummonable." She stepped over to the small kitchen table and pick up a familiar book.

"And don't tell me you did it with this." She held the book up. "This is bullshit. They didn't even fucking draw it correctly," she added, forcefully putting the book back on the table.

"I don't know what to tell you," he said, casually walking toward her.

He was a little surprised that he was daring to, but he didn't really get the impression that she would attack him again. Her behavior had suggested that she would like to, but something was keeping her from it.

"That book was all I had to work with," he continued. "Maybe I somehow managed to do it right by doing it wrong."

"Ridiculous," she huffed.

He stopped a few feet away from her. "What did you mean by unsummonable?"

She growled a second and then answered. "I had a sealing sigil on me. It should have prevented anyone from summoning me. Even that shit book should have prevented you from summoning me. It's all wrong. Everything about this is wrong."

"How did you get a sealing sigil?"

"I had it put on myself," she said a bit louder. "Quit asking me so many fucking questions," she circled around him and stomped over to the living room where she paced back and forth in contemplation.

'Curious,' he thought, turning to watch her. 'She didn't touch me. She just went around without making contact. And she didn't look at me, either. Also, she was frustrated by me asking a question, but she still answered it.'

"Why did you have a sealing sigil put on yourself,' he tested.

"So I couldn't be summoned. DAMN IT! Shut up! I'm trying to think."

He decided to back off a while and just observe her. She contradicted so many of his preconceived notions about demons, in both her appearance and behavior. She wasn't trying to seduce or bargain with him. She didn't seem even slightly interested in his soul. She wanted nothing to do with him, in fact, but then that raised the question of why she was still there.

She chewed her thumb anxiously. Her pacing paused intermittently, presumedly needing brief moments of extra focus in her ruminations.

'She seems to be completely hairless,' he noticed. He tried to catch a clear glimpse at her fingers, and then her toes. 'No hair, no finger or toenails, and her horns are not boney. She's entirely flesh on the outside.'

This was quite odd to him, but in spite of it all, she still looked rather cute. And her body was undeniably sexy. She had a very grabbable ass, and every hard step she took gave her perky breasts a little bounce.

He imagined what it would be like to touch and hold her, and an erection wasted no time growing in his pants.

She suddenly slowed, her eyes closed halfway, and her breath became slightly labored. When her thumb was released from her mouth, a light moan followed.

'Fascinating.'

She regained some composure and then turned to him.

"Stop that," she said urgently but was unable to do so angrily.

He decided to conduct another test and reached down to massage his bulge. Her eyes closed halfway again, and she whined slightly as her legs showed faint signs of threatening to give way.

'She's feeling my pleasure, but it seems to be amplified for her.'

"No!," she suddenly shouted, shaking her head once sharply to regain focus and then rushing over to him. He was distracted in thought, which allowed her to catch him off guard, so he did nothing to prevent her from kicking him right in the crotch.

They simultaneously cried out and dropped to their knees.

"What the fuck," he winced. Once the initial shock had passed and he had assessed his condition, he realized that it was not nearly as bad as it could have been. His boner had actually taken the brunt of the impact and spared his balls. Not completely, but some.

She was on her hands and knees panting. It became clear to him why she refrained from touching him after that introductory punch.

He was normally a rather passive and forgiving guy, but in this particular moment, he was feeling a little on the revengey side, so he unfastened his pants, pushed them and his underwear down to mid-thigh, and began stroking his length.

She let out a small moan before raising her face to him. Her expression was a combination of pleasure and anger, which, at the moment, he found uniquely satisfying.

"You son of a bitch," she said and then arose to lunge toward him.

An apparent impulse of pleasure stumbled her and she fell into him. He fell back and she landed mostly on top of him. In a moment, he felt the skin of her inner thigh against the head of his dick, and that just turned him on even more.

She moaned and grabbed at his shirt front as he furiously stroked himself until he finally ejaculated yielding a simultaneous response from her.

They both remained motionless, apart from their breathing, as acceptance of what just happened set in.

He remained still to let her act on her own when she was ready to slowly raise herself up from him. She fell back to sit on the floor in front of him looking disappointed and defeated.

There was an air of truce between them.

To his surprise, she began casually wiping his cum off her herself and the hardwood floor, and then she just straight up ate it. He noted to himself how weirdly bereft of sexiness it was at that moment.

"So, what I gather," he finally said, "is that you feel my physical sensations." She made no response. "Am I right?"

"Yes," she replied begrudgingly.

"And I'm guessing you are somehow compelled to answer any question I ask," he added. She remained silent. "Am I right?"

"Yes," she said with a bit more volume and anger. She stood up and walked to the sofa to sit with her arms and legs crossed.

He wasn't sure if it was just because she was pouting or if she was also trying to hide her body from him.

He got himself up, cleaned himself off as best he could, and secured his clothes. His apartment was small, so there was not much walking involved in bringing a dining chair into the living room. He could have easily sat next to her on the sofa, but he decided to give her the courtesy of some distance.

"Obviously, I have questions," he eventually informed her, "and I'm obviously going to be asking them, so if you want to spare your pride, or whatever, then you might as well be cooperative in reaching the inevitable end." He gave her a moment to let that reality settle in, and then added, "I would like to understand what is going on."

Her eyes glanced at him with a hint of surprise that he didn't ask a question. After a little more time, she began.

"I'm a sex demon. Humans summon us when they want easy, great sex. I stopped wanting to do that, so I had a sealing sigil put on myself to prevent me from ever being summoned. It should have been permanent." She paused. "Like I said before, everything about this is wrong, and I don't know why.

"Why are you still here?"

"I don't know. I can't teleport back, for some reason. I can't even leave this apartment."

"Would you normally be able to walk out?"

"Yes."

"Is there some kind of magical barrier that's been put up, or something?"

"No. I..." She hesitated. "When I tried to leave it just... felt wrong. I just got this overwhelming feeling that I shouldn't."

"Well, that is certainly curious." After realizing she had nothing more to add, he went to the kitchen and prepared a bowl of hot water to begin thawing the steak in the microwave. He went to the bathroom to pee and wash up before going to his room for a pair of shorts and a t-shirt.

In the living room, he handed the clothes to the demon. "You can wear these."

She hesitantly took them with one hand and rested them in her lap. He turned away to the kitchen, not seeing her bring the clothes to her nose to inhale the scent. She then stood and dressed.

They were a bit oversized for her, but not by too much. She noticed that his t-shirt was snug on him, and he was lean. The shorts were loose, but the elastic was good, so they were not at risk of falling down.

In the kitchen, he turned on the stove and pan-fried the steak to the rare side of medium-rare. Too late, he realized that he didn't know if she would have preferred it raw, so he stopped there, put it on a plate with a fork, and brought it to her.

"It's mostly rare. I should have asked you how you wanted it, but I didn't think to. I hope that's alright."

She took the plate and offered a congenial, "That's fine." Right before he turned, she added, "Thank you."

He just nodded his 'you're welcome' and returned to the kitchen to clean up. A few periodic glances back amused him with the site of her ignoring the fork entirely and using her teeth to tear off chunks of the meat clutched in her fist. She was a bizarre mix of civil and feral.

He worked slowly to give her time to finish in relative privacy and then returned with two glasses of cold tea and absolutely no idea if she either wanted or needed it. She was licking her palm and fingers of the steak juices as he set her tea on the coffee table next to the empty plate she'd set aside.

"Do you need a-," he started offering her a paper towel and the option to wash her hands, but then she just wiped her palm across the stomach of the shirt she wore. "Nevermind."

When she had settled down again, he decided to continue with his inquisition.

"Why did you-," he stopped himself abruptly. "I would like to know why you wanted to stop being a sex demon."

She looked put out but eventually spoke up.

"I can't stop being a sex demon any more than you can stop being a human, dumbass."

'At least she's not yelling.'

"I wanted to stop being fucking used. Most of the guys who want to fuck a demon are not exactly gentlemen. Most of us tolerate it. Some are even into it, but being treated like shit got old to me."

She picked up the glass of tea and took a swallow before setting it back down.

"So I got myself sealed to take me off the market. It was great for a while and then..." She raised her hands gesturing to the current situation. "Here I am." She stared at him for a few seconds. "What the hell were you doing," she asked, turning the tables of inquisition on him. "It's like you don't know shit about anything."

"I suppose I don't," he confessed. "I found that book hidden in the vent when I went to clean it out. I couldn't understand the language. Since it was hand-written I figured it was just someone's delusions. I got bored and basically played pretend for a laugh. I had absolutely no expectation of it actually working."

He took a swallow of his own tea.

"I drew the circle as identically as I could, and I pronounced the words as best I could, but who the fuck knows how correct any of that actually was?" He paused. "Apparently I did something right." He gestured to her as irrefutable evidence.

She had nothing else to say. He yawned and looked at the clock seeing that it was already past 4 am. With the excitement subsided, he calmed and realized how tired he was.

"So, you can't leave, and I need to sleep," he pointed out. "What about you? What are you going to do?"

She looked around the room contemplating the question. "I'm gonna study the book some more," she said, getting up to retrieve it from the kitchen table.

"Alright," he said, raising to his feet. "Let me know if you need anything, then."

"I really won't," she replied.

'Heh heh.' He smiled on his way to his bedroom.

"No jackin' off in there," she shouted before he closed the door. She brought the book back to the sofa, got comfortable, and opened it up.

One thing that concerned her was the fact that she couldn't recognize the language either. She knew every human language, but this looked like nonsense. It may have been written in a code or was a language entirely made up by the author.

The various drawings throughout the book were one's she recognized, but there was a handful that she didn't. One that stood out, in particular, was the sealing sigil.

Technically, it represented a bond or a barrier, depending on context. It was essentially the removal of an ability. It was a rather broad meaning, which is why specific types of bonds or barriers used more intricate versions of it.

"Fuck," she whispered, realizing that the broadness made it more susceptible to being broken. Her own careless choice had been her undoing. She should have chosen something more specific.

But that didn't explain everything. She studied the summoning circle more closely and noticed that the incorporated sigils were not right. There was nothing about sex or domination. Nothing about a contract. Everything that should be there to summon a sex demon specifically was absent.

One of the sigils looked similar to the commerce sigil but less intricate. In this form, it would be more like an equal exchange or perhaps balance.

Another seemed to represent something akin to searching. Seeing all?

The one that made the greatest impression on her was still difficult to decipher but was clearly based on the sealing sigil she had placed on herself.

"Fuck," she whispered again. The problem with using such vague sigils is that they can be overwritten by more intricate versions. It's like adding to a tattoo in order to turn it into something different but similar. You can add to it, but you can't take away from it.

She had left herself vulnerable to a more specific meaning that could, and in this case, did, erase her intended one. But there was still the question of exactly what replaced it.

It wasn't a containment sigil. She wasn't technically imprisoned in this apartment. She was able to walk out, but she experienced that inexplicable sense that it was a mistake to do so. None of the sigils had anything to do with mind control.

This sigil's design did not carry intent toward action, which was incredibly strange. This was targeting a preexisting bond.

"Whoever made this actually knew their shit," she quietly acknowledged.

Turning her attention to the words in the book, she racked her brain, using her vast linguistic knowledge to attempt a translation, but nothing was making any sense.

The specific language of an invocation is typically unimportant, as all demons know all human languages, but no demon would understand this one, so who exactly was the audience? It was not human, demonic, or angelic. And if it had been nonsense, it would not have worked.

It took a few seconds for her to notice the warmth building up in her belly, then she was hit by the sudden sexual arousal. She caught herself before her hand had finished its way to her pulsing crotch.

"Oh, that asshole," she breathed clumsily dropping the book onto the sofa cushion beside her and standing up.

She padded toward his bedroom door desperately wanting to touch herself but clutching the hem of the shirt to help her resist. She opened the door to find the lights off, and him motionless in bed.

She wanted to yell at him, but all she could manage was a low growl as she said, "Wake up, dickwad. No wet dreams either."

He turned over under the covers and a rush of electricity dropped her to her knees. It took a few seconds for the intense pleasure to subside, but she was able to get back to her feet and pull the blanket off of his body.

'That was a mistake,' was her last conscious thought at the unexpected sight of his erection standing straight up in the veritable spotlight of a street lamp shining in through the partially drawn curtains.

She immediately climbed onto the bed and enveloped his shaft with her mouth. She assumed a half-fetal position on her knees between his legs. One hand wrapped firmly around the base of his cock, and the other furiously rubbed her clit.

The sensation and her moaning gradually brought him out of his dream, but he barely understood his situation.

"Oh, my god," he moaned, holding her head in both of his hands while attempting to thrust his hips. He convulsed as he came wildly into the depths of her throat, and she had her own seizure before both were left collapsed and twitching.