Streaks of black ran down Raven's pale cheeks, a mixture of tears and makeup staining her face. It had been a bad day. Well, not just one. It had been a bad life. But today had been particularly bad. Her father had been drunk. Well that went without saying. Drunker. Angrier. More violent and unreasonable than usual. He'd gone too far. He destroyed everything. All her work, all her passion and faith, smashed to pieces and thrown into the fire.

Raven was a witch. Or at least, she tried to be. It's not like she had any experience. No one to teach her. Everything she knew came from the Internet or old books. But she'd made herself an altar. Collected skulls and crystals from the forest around her home, stocked it with candles and old books. It was hers. It was a representation of herself, and everything she believed in. Everything she hoped for. And he has destroyed it.

Raven hated her father. She hated everyone really. She was angry and lonely. A lost hurt girl who wanted nothing more than to lash out at the world. And she was going to. One item had survived her father's rampage. Her most valuable position, too important to be kept on her altar. She kept it hidden under her bed in a wooden lock box. She had it now. A real spell book. Or at least that's what the woman who had sold it to her had said. Sadly, none of the spells had worked for her before, but she knew today would be different.

The cabin was a few miles away from her house. It had become Raven's home away from home. She spent all her summers fixing the abandoned place up until it was a halfway decent hang out. And as she grew older, it became a place to practice her spells. She had a pentagram painted across the floor, with black candles at every point of the star. It would work today. She felt it in her soul. She knew her book by heart, and already knew what page she wanted. A harder spell, way beyond anything shed ever attempted before. A demon summoning. Bringing a creature into the world that would fulfill one's deepest desire. “Revenge.” Raven growled.

The spell needed only two things. Intent, and the user's blood. Raven had both. She lit her candles and stripped out of her clothes, dancing naked around the circle, her wide hips swaying to a silent song, her pert ass bouncing with every step she took. Her perky breasts were capped with tiny pink nipples, hard from the cold, as she continued to sway and chant. Finally, she reached a crescendo, and sliced a blade across her arm. The blood splattered to the floor, and then, to her amazement, began to smoke. A swirl of red and black flames opened up on the floor, and she watched as something on the other side moved closer and closer to the entrance of the portal she had made.

(You know what angry people really need? Hugs. So yeah, my opener was a little dark, and my character is a little moody, but she is summoning a demon. She's expecting a pumpkinhead type revenge demon, but instead gets a sweet cuddly love demon who will squeeze all the angst right out of her. I'm happy to take on the dominant role or the submissive one, but if possible, I'd love for you to play a very sweet and nurturing sub, very clingy too. Mommy vibes if you're into that. I'm less particular about the domiant role, but mommy vibes are always good. I'm also partial to curvy body types, but I'll be happy with anything. No chats please.)