Sure, everyone thinks they're ready to summon a sex demon from the Nine Hells of Infernal Diabolism and Slight Discomfort. They might even have the chalk, the incense, the pentacle of vaguely cinnamon-cented lube, and possibly even the amusingly phallic candles all ready to go. They might even have an assortment of arcane symbols etched into the blackened oak of a liberally reinforced bed in the center of the pentacle, and it's entirely possible the chants and the moans are prepared.

But let me tell you something, firsthand. Straight from the eldritch goat-horned maw, as it were - sex demons? We're actually frighteningly wholesome. Yeah, yeah; you might think of us as being all about chains and whips and shrieking, writing forms and so on, but really, even the most hardened incubus secretly pines for a would-be witch to summon him for a warm shower, thick blankets, and a few jokes, before he pins her to the bed and fills her with demonic seed.

It's simply the truth, really, and I say that as a certified, card-carrying¹ Elder Incubus of the Greater Depths. I'm no stranger to all manner of debauchery, but in all honesty, it's all about that sweet vanilla serendipity. Yes, the horns, the cloven hooves, the somehow-always-looks-good-in-a-suit-ness, and the abyssally apt, er, appendage are there, and yes, I've been known to accept contracts for things like souls, strange powers, and what I'm pretty sure was not a scientific interest in what a forked tongue can do. But, and I'm being very honest here and directing this at you - yes, you, with the leatherbound tome, silver lighter, and large rubbery friend - it's about the connection. There are fewer things I'd like more than to scoop up a charming sorceress and plop her in a pile of blankets before gently and firmly warming her up, or snuggling her close while letting her hang onto the horns for good measure. Hell, I'll even throw in the rare opportunity to hug onto the three-headed hellhound plush in the afterglow, river of infernal seed flowing from you or no.

So go ahead, summon if you dare, but if you're not careful, you'll have your soul snatched and dragged into the blanket fort. You can't say you weren't warned.

^{1 Note the little flames on the edge and the infernal lettering on the name; the membership cards Lucifuge made are really something.}

A simple little tale, trying to warm back up to smut-writing, but one that I like to think is charming in its simplicity. Who doesn't love the contrast of some incubus, horns scraping the ceiling, tenderly tending to a charming young witch? There might be a few puns, and certainly some silly esoteric references mixed in with a few lusty thrusts and playful conversations, but isn't that what summoning is for?

Kinks: Full-blown vanilla passion, size differences, banter, perhaps playful butt-stuffing, and deep, passionate creampies.

Thanks for reading!

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