The Summoning, pt 2

The resistance from the woman in my hands had _vanished_. Not that she was enthusiastically fucking me back, but her feeble attempts to fight back ceased while I __took__ her for a second time on the floor. Her head grinded into the wooden floor, curly, chestnut hair plastered to her face and shoulders in a ruined ponytail. Thin arms flopped against the ground while her curved back arched and tensed with our rhythm. A slender waist contradicted her squishy, round ass, currently elevated before me by trembling thighs. 

I drove into her over and over, her musical cries for help, or mercy, or _whatever_ she had been screaming subsided. They were replaced by a kind of guttural groan. Which made sense, considering I’d been _rearranging her guts_ with my meaty rod. I smiled at the prospect of having broken this woman like a horse, more pleasurably than any other mortal to have experienced my wrath.

I took her soggy, shoulder length hair in one hand, pulling her head up as my orgasm approached. The sensations along my thickness were pleasant enough, but I wanted to hear her cry out again before I __flooded__ her with more seed. With two hands grasping her round, tight ass, another gripping her messy hair, and my fourth feeling the lump of my meat beneath my fingers as it caressed her belly, I surged my full length into her. She groaned loudly, but I wanted more. I __demanded__ more. My hips flew back, roughly pulling most of my rigid cock from her inner warmth. The lips of her pussy constricted against me as I pulled away, her body seemingly sucking me back inside. The next sudden surge forward forced a sharp moan from her lips, which extended into a low groan. I had _wanted_ to try once more, but just then my balls tightened into climax.

My hips locked against her, keeping my cock buried __deep__ as it pulsed thick ropes of semen into her belly. Her body convulsed in my big hands, as though responding to the warm seed filling her. I marveled at the pleasures her own orgasm could give me, from watching her body spasm, to the sensations of her walls tightening around me. Pulse after pulse spurted more fluid into her, and her orgasming body drank it all up.

I released my grip on her, smirking as her head flopped to the ground before the rest of her trembling body joined it. I groaned as her tight, quivering hole retreated from me, milking one last glob out in its wake. She slumped to the floor, laying flat on her belly while her orgasm subsided. I took my still hard cock in one hand and stroked a couple final strands of sperm out, letting it _ooze_ across her back. She moaned and whimpered into the wooden floor, unable to move in her post orgasm stupor, shaking like jelly on the ground.

She appeared to be falling to sleep, having been exhausted by the activity. I decided to take this chance to explore my surroundings, find out _where exactly_ I had burned into existence. The door was sturdy, but broke easily enough without too much exertion from my impressive build.

Looking around briefly, I realized I had been summoned in the pantry of a… modest home. No further enchantments, or defensive spells, or _any kind_ of protection I’d expect of even the most novice witch. This did indeed seem to be an accident. Simple broken jar of flour and a drop of blood from a cut, and “_poof!_” __Here I am.__ “__Mortals should be more careful__,” I said aloud, chuckling to myself as I strode further into her dwelling.

The various eras of human advancement are easy enough to discern, especially in what they consider the “_first world_.” As if they aren’t all living their worthless lives on the same oversized ball of mud. This appeared to be the modern era, simple electronics decorating her walls and counters. Smooth marble countertop in the middle of her kitchen, matching counters against the wall and around the sink. The floors were wooden, just like in the pantry. She looked to have been in the middle of preparing a meal, supper or lunch perhaps? Various chopped vegetables still rested on a cutting board and in a nearby bowl. They’ve started to wilt, having been left unattended for so long. I reached a hand into the bowl, retrieving a few slices of carrot. It crunched satisfyingly between my teeth, but the taste was, of course, awful.

Further into the home was a living room, wood floor turning to soft carpet under my hooves. A small couch faced the television, chairs of similar style on either side. Her curtains were drawn closed over her windows, with minimal sunlight sneaking through. The door stood beside her television, a small peephole peering outside with a stepstool against the wall. I guessed that this was an apartment, and a fairly nice one if I was being honest. My feet carried me throughout the rest of the dwelling, two rooms – one with it’s own bathroom, and another restroom in the hallway. She had various paintings, but no photos expected of people in this age. Perhaps she hadn’t yet made any memories worth plastering across her wall, not that she would have the chance moving forward.

I returned to the pantry where I had left her, and was surprised to find she had moved. She was still there, but her not even five foot form shakily stood against the back wall. I entered with one heavy foot, noting the soaked and smeared sigil that had unintentionally brought me here. A streak of flour and fluid extended from the ruined circle to her feet, and smeared up her front. I grinned at the _courage_ of the young woman, even if she were cowering from me. Another heavy step brought me halfway to her, cock dangling limply between my legs beginning to harden once more.

She shrieked at me, throwing salt into my face and chest before trying to scamper by. It burned, I wailed, and she _actually_ managed to get through the door, but slipped and fell in the kitchen.

The burning subsided, and I pursued her into the kitchen. She was crawling over to the sink, feet dragging behind her. I _was_ in the mood to show some level of kindness, uncharacteristic though it may have been. But now I’m __angry__. I thought this human had learned before, perhaps I should drill the lesson in even harder. _You don’t fuck with demons, they_ ___fuck___ _with you_. And what a __hard__ lesson it can be.

I grinned menacingly as I took an ankle in my hand, then dragged her from the kitchen. She screamed and tried to grab the passing furniture on our way into the hall, but of course every effort was in vain. I took her into the main bedroom, then hurled her across the room onto the generously sized bed. She hit the mattress and bounced off, crashing into a wall and falling between the wall and bed. I laughed at the pitiful display, erection swaying side to side before me as I made my way to dig her from the crevasse.

She wasn’t between the bed and wall when I arrived. Disappointment and brief confusion filled me, but I threw the bedframe aside to reveal her hiding place. She screamed again, clearly terrified of the mighty beast reaching towards her. I had intended to let her lay on her bed as I __plowed__ her again, but she just _had_ to make it difficult. Now, it’s upside down, wooden frame little more than shattered kindling. Oh, well. _I’ll_ still have my fun.

She struck out suddenly, something large but soft colliding into me. My eyes left the damaged bed, and found her lying on the floor with a pillow clutched in one hand, ready to strike again. The bravery (and foolish audacity) of this woman continued to impress me. She struck me again as I took her legs in my lower hands, my upper hands reaching out to take her arms. She screamed one more time as I suspended her in my grasp, but her spirit faded at the obvious futility of her resistance. I wrapped the thick fingers of one hand around her neck, releasing her from my other hands. Her feet kick and her hands struggle against my forearm while I turn her mattress back over. I tossed her down onto it again, and she bounced but laid against it this time.

She looks at me, a bit confused but still fearful. I get onto the mattress, using my hands to spread her legs around my knees as they rest beneath her butt. My hands bring her legs up, her feet nearly reaching my shoulders as I drag my cock against her still dripping pussy. Our juices still leaking from her used hole lubricate my fat cockhead, and I slide back inside. She moans at the penetration, laying her head back against the mattress. Her arms rest at her sides, fingers grasping at the messy sheets behind her. I lean forward, my head hovering over hers as I begin pistoning in and out. Her back curves up in this position, ass in the air with my cock plunging away.

Her modest breasts jiggle with the motion, nipples swirling around with the movement of her fleshy mounds. She moans louder, harder as I surge deep. I can feel her cum around and under me. Her eyes roll back in her head, moans turning to squeals and shrieks, toes curling under my face. Her hands flail around haphazardly, and her knees shake as the orgasm washes over her. I wrap a hand around her neck again, debating on whether or not to crush her throat beneath my firm grasp as I send myself fully into her, remaining completely buried inside through her climax.

_How dare she experience bliss before me_! The thought sears through my mind as an accusation, but feeling her cum on me, even without having an orgasm myself, is _astonishing_. My grip on her throat remains, but I decide not to squeeze. I’ve heard the succubi talk about “choking” during mating. It allegedly enhances the pleasure? Perhaps I should see how many times (and how intensely) I can make this mortal cum…

My own orgasm had begun building, coming very close to eruption, but now I’m curious. Just how far can I take this woman? Was she truly unconscious in the pantry, or pretending? Can I fuck her to _absolute_ exhaustion? I continue pounding into her throughout her orgasm, taking delight in the wondrous agony rippling across her features. 

I push her legs higher, then back against the mattress. Her feet twitch above her own head, toes curling tight as my cock continues grinding in and out of her. Juices escape her stuffed pussy, leaking around my thickness, running over her suspended mound and pooling on her belly. Some manages to leak back across the puckered hole of her ass, a small river trailing through the valley of her firm cheeks before running down her back. The thrusting bulge of my cock inside her shines wetly in the dim light. She screams in a beautiful mix of pain and ecstasy, her contorted form and my constricting grip at her throat doing little to muffle the sounds.

Her pleasure and torment flood my senses, sending me over the edge of another of my own climaxes, and I surge back fully inside her quivering depths. My rough hands slip down her legs, leaving her calves and settling behind her knees. Her feet close in around my face, legs folding around my hands as thick, hot sperm floods into her once more. I grunt with each pulse of my cock, potent ropes of cum freely flowing into her fertile womb. I look into her face, noticing the deepening velvet spreading across her otherwise fair skin. My grip on her neck relaxes from the unintentionally firm hold, and she takes a series of struggled breaths. I smile at the added discomfort I’ve inflicted, ready to fill her with another orgasm before my current climax has even subsided.

It’s about then that I realize. I’ve completely underestimated the _pleasures_ of the physical world. It was no longer about breeding, but seeking continuous pleasure. And I have so much to experience, so many methods to try. And a partner hopelessly unable to stop me. My slowly softening erection begins to slip from her folds, and I resolve to try every act, every perversion I’ve punished the damned for that I could with this woman.

My hands grasp and caress her, putting her half conscious form into a new position. Her head is against the mattress, bent a bit awkwardly again while the rest of her body angles straight up. I hold her legs in my more dominant, upper arms, while my other two hands grope her ass and slide along her stomach. Thick, white semen oozes from her gaping hole, trailing down her flesh in a similar pattern as her own juices. One thick finger finds its way between her pink lips, preparing to dive deep, when I’m interrupted by her ringing doorbell. I ignore it at first, but it rings over and over, becoming a frustrating nuisance.

In a familiar rage, I drop the woman onto the partially soaked mattress, where she slumps in a limp heap of wet flesh. I rise to my feet, and make my way to her door. With a huff, I peer through the small peephole to see what _human_ could be so __foolish__ as to interrupt!

Another female, this one even more physically appealing than the first, stands impatiently on the other side. Her deep brown hair curls down over her shoulders. She is clothed in a pleasant, floral dress, thin straps helping to hold it against her curves. Exquisite cleavage pressed against the confines of her dress. Her chest was flushed, trace perspiration glistening on her exposed skin. 

My near sore cock throbbed back to life, brushing against the door as it rose again. Though I couldn’t see all of her through the small window, I knew I _had_ to have her. She would experience the same horrible bliss as this home’s resident, and I would unload my pleasure into and onto them both. With a wicked grin, I pulled the door open. My thick hand gripped her by the face before she could register the horror before her, the muffled scream from her mouth against my hand did little to alert anyone, and she quickly found herself pulled beyond the closing door.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/td76yo/the_summoning_pt_2