The Warlock

"Touch me, then." Curiosity and excitement had gotten the better of her. She was a creature of lust and I was offering her a taste of what she wanted most.

I eagerly reached out and grasped her breasts in my hands. They were wonderfully soft beneath my fingertips and her pebbled nipples poked against my palms. I explored those gorgeous globes with the enthusiasm that only a horny teenager can muster. It was a full 2 minutes before I realised that the succubus had closed her eyes and her mouth was opened to let out a little moan as I explored her tits. The sight spurned me on for she was clearly enjoying what I was doing. An always avid learner, I followed the little changes in her face as I groped that soft flesh to discover her weaknesses.

Succubi are built for sex. You know how good it feels for us and we only really need to do it around five times in a lifetime in order for the species to survive? Well they need to do it at least three times in a day. As a result their bodies are hard wired to make sure it never gets old.

She suddenly squealed with her building excitement, shaking her bonds to try and spring free to do all the naughty things she wanted to me. The chains held fast and the moment of pause made her lower her head, causing those raven curls to spill down across her shoulders and over the globes I'd been so happily handling. She looked at me from beneath those dark brows and then offered a smile that could shatter a marriage.

"That was a fine offering, so intimate and-" She obviously thought I was done.

I wasn't.

Falling to my knees in front of her open legs, I reached up and touched my first pussy. The slippery, wet heat felt incredibly inviting. For a moment I actually considered standing up and releasing my aching cock. In that moment it was a 50-50 coin toss as to whether or not I'd fuck her to my own death. Thankfully in my kneeling position it was much easier to part those glistening pink folds with my index and middle fingers before leaning in to taste her. I found that option utterly irresistible.

The moment my fingers had touched her, the words she'd been speaking had faded into a low hiss of desire. When my tongue slowly began lapping at her inner petals the screams began. Some were high-pitched banshee-like wails whilst others were drawn from deep in her lungs to become heated bellows and desperate wordless cries for more.

It was a sound my ears would never get tired of. Her taste, her scent, and the wonderful slippery texture of her pussy were all heaven. If I were ever to orgasm inside her then she'd devour my soul in a heartbeat and the trauma of such an immediate loss would simply make my brain cease to function before my heart could beat again. Still, it didn't matter. I could live without it. Having her writhing and wriggling in chains whilst screaming herself hoarse for me was the most incredible experience of my life until then.

I don't know how long I stayed there. I remember feeling the first splash of her sweet nectar on my tongue after the first 30 seconds, and by the time I stood up my chin was soaked and so was most of my shirt and the floor beneath us. Those little squirts were happily guzzled down by yours truly. Their frequency became much more common when I discovered the little bud of her clit. I flicked and teased that sensitive flesh until her screams nearly deafened me.

Finally, when I lifted myself up and wrapped my arms around her body, I saw that she definitely wasn't faking. Her eyes were closed, her mouth hung open as desperate gasps of air left her lungs. I took that moment to hold her against me and pull her parted lips against mine. The kiss that followed was initially somewhat half hearted on her part. Kissing wasn't a big thing in the dark realms. So, to my slight alarm, she groggily tried to bite me instead. At first I thought I wasn't reading her correctly and she simply didn't like it. Then when I heard the little whimper of protest when I broke the kiss, I happily dived back in. She tried to bite again but thankfully seemed to be savouring the afterglow of my efforts enough that she wasn't too adept at it.

Slowly, she got the hang of what was intended and it was both of us who learned something new. She wasn't one for slow and romantic for obvious reasons and the kiss soon turned into a debauched and thoroughly carnal act. I loved every second of it.

When she started getting a little too aggressive and began nipping at my lips again with renewed vigour, I quickly released her from my arms and stepped back.

"Thank you." I mumbled in a way that made me look just as awkward as it sounds.

The succubus looked at me and curved her lips whilst flashing her teeth.

"Channa." The word was spoken with a certain amount of eagerness.

"I'm sorry?" I wasn't really sure what the hell that meant.

"You asked me my name. My name is Channa. Now, will that be all? I'm not adverse to whips and chains, you know." She winked at me conspiratorially.

"Right! Channa. Thanks." I smiled like an idiot and didn't stop for quite some time afterwards. "I'll let you go now if you want."

"What I want is to make you spill what's in that hard dick right inside the pussy you've gotten so hot. But since you seem so dead set against that, then I have another request for you." For a lady who was hanging from her wrists in the nude she sure was awfully businesslike.

"Oh, what is it?" I doubt I even need to tell you that agreeing to a demon's request before you've heard it is an enormously bad idea.

"Do you know a truth binding?" She rested her head against her arm as she spoke.

"Yeah, sure." I nodded. I'd used one to make a truth serum. In case you're wondering, hilarity ensued soon after I put it in my teacher's coffee. Our whole class got to know what he really thought of us.

"Place it upon me. There is something I wish to tell you, and I want you to believe it."

I frowned at the odd request. A truth binding involves using invasive magic. Just as the body protects its inner contents with a decent waterproof coating and a sound structural design, it also protects its soul. In order to influence someone's mind or to bring about any magical influence within them then you must first break through that protection. A good way to do this is to introduce the magic into their system through their food like I did with my teacher. Failing that, you have to do considerable damage to the body before the intended thrall becomes weak enough to break. This is why fights between those with magical abilities usually consist of hurled fireballs and lightning bolts rather than simply conjuring up a few air bubbles in their blood stream.

The other way to get into someone's head is if you have their willing cooperation. This was what she was offering and also why it was so strange. She would be highly vulnerable during the casting. Then again, I suppose she thought that if I wanted to harm her I certainly had the chance.

So I set about steeling my will and casting it forth through her welcoming mind to compel her to speak the truth. It was an interesting experience, to directly cast the spell and sense her presence. She was very good at sealing away the parts of her she didn't wish me to see whilst allowing me access to the area I needed. I pressed my influence and felt her willingly yield against it. I knew she would only speak the truth.

Of course that didn't mean she had to speak at all.

"You're very talented for a novice." The commendation of my efforts brought a thrill of accomplishment through me. "If you should summon me again then your binding circle would hold me. If you try anything like this I will not answer your call. This has been pleasant but I'm not about to get into the habit of being completely defenceless before a warlock."

"I understand." I nodded.

"I also bind myself to the promise that I will never try to influence your mind whilst you summon me. One day I will have you. Then you shall be the one screaming for me but until then I would enjoy seeing you. My only condition is that you do not cause me harm whilst I am bound, or try to trap me again."

"No problem." I agreed.

"Then release me."

I took one last look over her and snapped a mental picture for later. Then I closed my eyes and began the banishment that would send her back to the dark realms. It took me 5 minutes to get everything settled and she seemed to ignite with a flash of green fire before she vanished completely. The banishment had worked and I'd summoned up my first demon! More than that, I'd just squeezed some tits and licked a pussy!

I watched the chains and shackles disintegrate back into the iron filings from which they were made and pile up on the black floor beneath where she had once hung. Figuring I might have a use for them in the future, I cleaned them into a plastic bag before heading out of the apartment and walking home with a cheerful spring in my step.

That night when I got home, I laid in bed thinking about Channa and all the things I could do with her. When a demon bound herself to a promise then she was compelled to fulfil it to the utmost. I was under no such obligation. I laid in bed that night, stroking my cock until I'd spilled three thick loads into a handful of tissues. Just thinking about the way she looked was enough to set me off and the residual sexual energy was better than a box full of Viagra.

As I drifted off to sleep I contented myself with another thought. Summoning a demon had made it official. I was a warlock. What I wanted to try next would prove how good I was. It was time to barter for a soul.

- - - - -

As it turned out, getting someone to give you their soul is much easier than you might think. The hard part comes with the preparation of the contract. Oh yeah, we have contracts. I have about 350 rolled up pieces of paper stored in several vaults that bind the souls of my clients to my will. Making those pieces of paper is the hardest part. You can't exactly just grab a sheet out of the printer and scribble down I Owe U 1 Soul, then give it to me. The paper has to be fairly old because older things tend to hold magic better. Then it has to be treated in a mixture of my blood and some boiling water for about an hour whilst I stand over it using my magical skills and a pair of tongs to make sure it doesn't turn into a ball of mush. Then it needs to be imbued with the right magical energies to hold the connection between me and the client. This takes an additional 4 hours. Finally, I need to write out the contract itself which is pretty wordy since I need to avoid any loopholes in the agreement.

A couple of years ago a novice I knew didn't pay that much attention to the wording of his contracts. So, one of his clients took it to a lawyer. I shit you not. The lawyer was your typical ambulance chaser but still managed to undermine the entire thing. Meanwhile, the novice in question is using the soul's energy to bind a hellhound when all of a sudden the client zips back control of all that power. The guy gets his soul back and the would-be warlock was dog food. So yeah, I tend to word my contracts carefully.

Once all that's finished with, then you go out and find someone who's willing to part with their soul.

Believe it or not, I managed to strike gold with my first idea. I had plenty of money saved up out of sight of my parents. I wasn't sure their complete apathy concerning my existence would extend to the small fortune I'd kept as a result of not really spending money on anything. Most of my life was spent in books and the library had enough of those to keep me occupied. I had just over £1,500 hidden away by the time I needed it.

I snagged £100 out of my savings and late at night I went out to the local red light district. On an estate like mine, you didn't have to go far to find trouble, but at least you were never short on guys trying to sell drugs and women trying to sell their bodies. I ventured out that night with a different kind of offer in mind.

The problem with dealing in the souls of street hookers is that not many have much of a soul to begin with. Now, I'm not launching a crusade or anything here, you do what you have to survive. I get that. It's just that spending all night getting slammed by sweaty Johns and all day doped up to the eyeballs isn't very good for the soul. Like I said, self confidence, creativity, inspiration, determination. These are the kind of personality traits I look for when picking my clients.

When I walked through the streets checking out the girls standing around awaiting their curb crawlers, I immediately saw there wasn't going to be much to choose from. They all had hollow eyes, pallid faces, and their flesh was pulled far too tightly against the bones beneath. I kept to the shadows and used the air itself to muffle the noise my footsteps made.

It took me close to an hour of searching before I found anyone I remotely wanted to take a risk on. She looked like she'd just turned 30 and stood tall and slender without appearing unhealthy. Her height was propped up a further few inches by the long, high-heeled sandals she wore for which it was way too fucking cold. Unlike most of the ladies of the night I'd seen on my travels, she was talking with the two girls she was with. Those girls seemed to be not much older than me and all too quickly approaching the torpid appearance of most of their competition.

The woman I'd picked still had expression in her features as she spoke and she seemed to be annoyed about something, which was a good sign. Her face had a healthy fullness to it with high cheekbones, a petite nose and a mouth that seemed a little too wide for the rest of her features. I remember thinking that I'd have enjoyed seeing her give a genuine smile. All of this was settled in amongst smoothly falling hair that first appeared a dark brown but betrayed its true auburn colour as she moved beneath the fading streetlight.

If it wasn't for what she'd been wearing I wouldn't have thought she'd been a hooker at all. It was getting to the middle of autumn in England and it was the dead of night. She was wearing a very small pink tube top across petite breasts with her nipples poking into the flimsy material to show just how much the cold really was affecting her. A slim, bare midriff showed off a toned belly and the strings of an intensely pink thong lifted up from beneath her miniskirt to wrap over the tops of her hips. Much like her top, that miniskirt left little to the imagination and showed off her long, bare legs, which certainly caught my eye for a longer moment than I'd intended.

Before some other asshole could pull up next to her and whisk her away, I checked for any potential threats and when I found none, I finally stepped out of the shadows and crossed the road.

"And I don't know what you're doing working for that guy. He's such a complete..." I caught the first part of her conversation and she trailed off when she noticed me approaching.

I privately kicked myself when I saw her flinch at the sight of me. It's not that I was particularly hideous, just that it must have seemed like I'd appeared almost out of nowhere. So I put on my best attempt at a casual, easy-going smile and offered a small nod in greeting to show I wasn't going to be trouble.

"Hey. Scared the fuck outta me." She turned from the girls to look at me, the once over seemed to reassure her. I wasn't exactly all that imposing back then.

She had a somewhat interesting set of eyes that were dark brown along the inner part of the iris and flared outward into an emerald green colour. As a result, they could look very different depending on what kind of light she was in. Right then, they appeared like twin pools of deep, rich mahogany and I saw a strong soul residing within.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to," I apologised.

"So, you want a ride or what?" She was still looking at me with some scepticism. Well kept, apparently polite young men apparently weren't her usual sort of customer.

"What do you charge?" I wanted to see if my offer was going to be worth her while.

"A tenner for a blowjob, twenty for a ride, and for fifty we can do whatever you want for an hour." She folded her arms and gave a challenging sniff as she looked at me.

"What if I said I'd give you a hundred, right now, for just a signature?" As I said this, the two girls watching us looked between each other, clearly wondering if I was for real.

"I'd say fuck off and stop trying to scam me." The woman folded her arms across her small breasts and gave me a very dark look.

"No scam. Here's the money." I reached into my pocket and produced my wallet, opened it up in front of her and showed the collection of notes inside..

This clearly took her off guard, aggression shifted to suspicion as she eyed the notes I was offering.

"What's the signature? Some weird kink of yours? Like, I have to sign your ass whilst you scream at me or something?"

I couldn't help but chuckle at that little picture as I shook my head and lowered my wallet before pulling out the rolled up parchment from my back pocket. I hooked my fingers onto the top and watched it roll open to reveal the contract.

"You sign this, I get your soul, then I walk away and you're a hundred pounds richer."

There was a longer pause after this. The girls were looking at me like I was a crazy person and one nudged the woman toward me to sign my little contract.

"My soul?" She seemed slightly uncertain as she looked back to the two girls.

"Yep. I believe in souls. I want yours. I'm paying a hundred for it. Right now." I wiggled the contract in front of her to emphasise my offer.

"What if I don't want..." She still seemed very cautious and now a little bit confused. I definitely wasn't fitting in to her view on how the world worked.

I was trying very hard not to bounce on the spot with excitement for what I hoped was about to happen.

"Go on Ruth, it's a hundred. You could go home early..." One of the girls urged.

She looked back to them for a moment and I caught a slight hint of what might have been irritation in her eyes. Then she turned back to me whilst appearing both annoyed and resolute before holding her hand out to me.

"Pen," she ordered.

I quickly slipped my wallet away to pull out the pen I'd brought along. She quickly snatched it out of my back along with my contract before using the top of a nearby waste bin to scribble her signature. I watched in near disbelief as she signed away her soul to me and I felt my mouth forming a victorious smile in the trend of an evil genius. I already had the hundred pounds in my hand to exchange with Ruth as she held out my contract. I quickly snagged it as she snagged the money and rolled up the parchment before replacing it in my back pocket.

"Thanks! See you around!" I offered the trio a small wave and left Ruth holding the money whilst I ran away with something much, much more valuable.

When I got home it was closing in on 1:00 in the morning and I reluctantly admitted to myself that I was too tired to work with the contract right then. I took one last look at it before I turned in for the night. That's when I noticed the signature on the paper.

Olivia Vale

I looked at the name for a while. I was sure the girl had called the woman Ruth. I quickly reasoned it away, supposing that many prostitutes must not have gone by their real name. In any case, I knew she couldn't lie on the contract paper. A client can never sign their name wrong or unwillingly on that dotted line.

I hid the contract away underneath a loose floorboard in my room and hit the sack soon afterwards.

The next day was a school day and since final exams were quickly approaching, I decided not to skip and to wait until later. Thankfully my parents were both out that day when I got home. My dad had gone to the pub and my mother had vanished to go sleep with whoever was the flavour of the month. So when I came home and found Olivia sat on my doorstep I was understandably shaken.