Summoned Lust, Mistress_ Red [ebook reader online .TXT] 📗

This she'd learned on her third summoning - or was it her fourth? It had proven very helpful indeed.

 

As a final precaution, Meg closed her eyes and cast a spell of protection over herself and her apartment. She clutched the amulet around her neck as she spoke the words. "May the gods of olde protect and shelter me against any and all harm this day. Likewise protect my living space and all my earthly possessions.

 

No matter what transpires, protect me from the forces of evil in all their incarnations. Protect me, both physically and mentally, from any and all repercussions as a result of contact with this demon. Let no evil of any kind threaten me or treat me in any way I do not wish. If I do not desire it to be, then it cannot be.

 

So do I request on this night of my seventh summoning. Praise be the gods of olde." Nearly word for word the way her grandmother had taught her. She instantly felt calm and safe. It was a strong spell, and she knew deep inside that nothing could now jeopardize her safety or well-being.

 

If she didn't want it to happen, it couldn't possibly happen. And that spell of protection was a very important thing. From experience, she knew that when you yanked a demon out of his little slice of Hell, he was usually very, very pissed off.

 

Now she was ready to bring a very unsavory character into her very own bedroom. She was quite calm, even more relaxed than last time. It seemed that she became stronger and more confident with each summoning. She was becoming a pro at transporting demons into her home.

 

She learned from each one, and by now she was so proficient at it that she knew nothing could possibly go wrong. Her fourth and fifth summonings had had little glitches, but she'd overcome the problems with ease and learned from them. And, to date, her grandmother's powerful spells of protection had kept her completely free from any major harm whatsoever. Her last summoning, in fact, was absolutely clean, devoid of even the tiniest mishap. This one would undoubtedly be the same. She was certain of it.

 

She again shivered with anticipation. She looked down at the yellowed page before her, feeling a surge of power at what she was about to do. According to her grandmother's book, this was a particularly vile demon, and her plans for him had her almost tittering with nervous glee. She couldn't wait to see if this particular demon was as despicable as his reputation made him out to be. She hoped he was. It would be much more delicious that way.

t w o

Raising one hand high over each candle, Meg kept her eyes on the grandfather clock in the corner. At exactly the first stroke of midnight, she lowered her eyes to the dusty tome on the desk before her, reading from it's brown-edged pages and raising her face toward the ceiling, chanting each line loudly toward the midnight sky:

 

Vin Scrotorum, et Zubinum Fral! Bal-Soggothum, Lustium banal!"

 

The flames of the candles on either side of the book sputtered and sparked, though those sparks that touched Meg's skin did not burn her. The flames of the candles at the five points of the pentagram fluttered and then rotated counterclockwise. The room lights flickered and dimmed slightly. Meg continued:

 

"I seek the foul demon called The Great Fornicus. He of Mount Priapus, beyond the Sea of Misery. Hear me and do my bidding. Come to me at once. Obey my command! You cannot refuse me! SHOW YOURSELF NOW!"

 

One by one the candles of the pentagram puffed out in sequence, then relit themselves in that same order, from that moment on burning ten times as brightly as before. The candles beneath Meg's hands burned a blood red color, made all the more eerie and foreboding when the room lights flickered rapidly and then finally winked out.

 

Yellow and red glowed throughout the room, and Meg held her breath. After waiting a few seconds, she sniffed the air. There it was. Sulfur. Pungent and clinging. The noxious smog of Hell.

 

She could feel resistance. This was indeed a strong demon. But he was no match for her. Gritting her teeth, she continued with the spell, again shouting at the ceiling:

 

"Do not try to resist me, spawn of Hell. To do so will have dire consequences for you. Come here at once or suffer my wrath!"

 

The sulfur smell increased. Glowing blue smoke rose from the pentagram, like a reeking marshland fog. Except for the candles and the glow of the underworld haze, the room was in darkness. An electrical charge permeated the air. Something should've happened inside the circle. But the demon was still resisting. Meg would have none of it.

 

"Bring your foul carcass to me, demon! Do not risk my anger further! VIN SCROTORUM, ET ZUBINUM FRAL! BAL-SOGGOTHUM, LUSTIUM BANAL! COME AT ONCE OR SUFFER!"

 

The blue fog roiled and swirled within the circle. Then it turned a blood red color, matching the two candles on the table. The stench of sulfur was almost palpable. An inhuman growl seemed to be rising from the wooden floorboards of Meg's room. She knew the demon was near.

 

The hideous bellow from below rose in volume. It snarled and spat and cursed. It was incoherent with rage, unintelligible and fearsomely ominous. The rantings and ravings of this obviously unhappy being heralded its imminent arrival. Meg wasn't worried. She'd seen it all before. Theatrics, nothing more.

 

Flames leapt up from the border of the protective circle. Foul black smoke billowed up to the ceiling, where it disappeared as if never having existed. The entire room smelled of sulfur and glowed an eerie yellow-brown hue. Meg heard the words from The Great Fornicus' lips long before she actually saw that foul, curse-belching mouth.

 

"What the FUCK do YOU want, BITCH!?!" The words boomed from the circle, causing the window panes to rattle in their frames.

 

The flames died, the smoke cleared, but the stench remained, as did the sickly mustard glow that filled the room. In the center of the pentagram stood The Great Fornicus. And he was not happy. He searched the room with blazing eyes, snarling when they located Meg.

 

"You little earth bitch, what do you want with Fornicus?" His snarl alone would've caused Meg to pass out had she not felt protected. Still, she did shiver a bit, even encased as she was in her silken, ceremonial robe.

 

Before answering him, she allowed her eyes to examine his naked form. He appeared pretty much human in physical structure - except for the tiny horns on his head, one just above each ear, and the tiny nub of a tail just above his granite-like buttocks. He towered over Meg at at least seven feet in height.

 

His brown body glistened with sweat. He was muscular in the extreme. That was a common theme among demons, it seemed. Life in Hell was hard, and its denizens invariably had finely sculpted bodies, in a rough, angry sort of way. His chest was massive and strong, even his large, dark nipples dripping demon sweat. His stomach stretched flat and hard from his rib cage to his pubic carpet.

 

His thighs were so muscled that Meg figured he must be able to leap large distances with ease... perhaps something that came in handy in the smoldering terrain of Hell. He had no hooves, but regular, human-appearing feet - something that, for some unknown reason, made Meg feel more at ease.

 

But it was the large slab of demon meat between his legs that wrested her wandering eyes from all else. At first, because of its formidable length, Meg thought Fornicus had a boner, but then she realized that it wasn't fully erect. But, even in its semi-flaccid state it was a good twelve inches in length.

 

Meg shuddered to think of it's total length and girth at full engorgement. A fearsome thought, yes... but, then, why did she get such a guilty tingling between her thighs? Why did she suddenly find it hard to breath? Why was her heart racing where it hadn't been before?

 

"Answer me, bitch," he groused, "why the fuck am I here? And talk fast, or I'll put that pretty mouth to a much more pleasant use instead."

 

"Don't you DARE threaten me, demon," she snapped, her voice cracking but trying to maintain an authoritative tone. "I have need of your services. I need you to do something for me." Her eyes met his, and didn't back down.

 

"You stupid cunt," he growled, "I was having my way with not one, not two, but THREE of Hell's finest sluts. How dare YOU interrupt my fuck time! If you don't send me back right this second, I'll fuck YOU as many times as I'd planned on fucking all three of them! Am I making myself clear?" He was, but Meg didn't even flinch. She had faith in her powers, and in the teachings of her grandmother.

 

"You are in no position to make demands, demon. You didn't have the power to resist my summoning, and you don't have any powers that can resist any other commands I give you, either. You are here to do MY bidding, as I see fit. So, stop your growling and posturing and prepare to do as you're told!"

 

This did not sit well with the irritated Fornicus. His skyward roar rattled more than just the windows. The very walls and floor vibrated with that bellowed anger. When he looked back down at Meg, his eyes were like burning coals.

 

"You fucking earth bitch. You simpy little spell-chanting slut. You're too young to have much power. I could step out of this puny circle and rip your heart out... and then laugh as I forced you to eat it. I could..."

 

"Do it then," she interrupted. "Go on, rip my heart out... if you can."

 

Another growl, even more rage. But, there was also a note of resignation in that howl. Old Fornicus was accepting his fate. He continued to fret and fume, posturing for effect, but he realized he was trapped. "All right," he sneered, "so what chore does the little earth slut want me to do?"

 

"That's better," she said, which rankled him even further. "now stop growling and listen. If you do this for me as soon as I finish giving you the order, then when you complete your task you can come back here and I'll send you right back to your three whores. Agreed?"

 

A long, slow growl rose from his gut. Clearly he didn't enjoy being ordered about. And he was looking at Meg in a way which suggested that he might get even greater pleasure from plundering HER charms than those of the willing concubines of Hell. Still, he relented, "All right, bitch... what do you need done?" Another guttural growl, this one lasting nearly a full minute, rolled from his throat.

 

"I need you to visit some people, some ex-friends of mine. Once you're there, I want you to get revenge on them for me."

 

"Revenge? In what way? Give me specifics, girl. I don't want to come back and then have you keep me in this rotten place just because you say I botched the job. What should