Just for Fun

"Sulfur. I'm telling you, I smell sulfur."

"No you don't, Liz. That's just the furnace. It's fine. Jen, does everything look alright?"

"Seems fine."

"Then we're going to continue."

"I really don't think we should."

"We're almost done. There's like two lines left here."

"But what happens if finishing it actually works?"

"Then we become famous for being the first people to ever summon a fucking demon with shitty internet instructions."

"Seriously, Liz. It's fine."

"What if the spell only works if you believe it works?"

"Shut up, Amy. You're not helping."

It actually did smell quite a bit like sulfur, and not in a way a furnace ever should. However, rather than being irritating, something about the smell was a bit relaxing. It still burned, but also had a bit of homey comfort, like a large bonfire. She could actually feel herself relaxing a little, even given the circumstances. She just hoped it wasn't carbon monoxide. That shit'll kill you.

"I'm going to finish up then. I'll read these last lines, we can all scream the next time a candle flickers, and we'll all go upstairs, turn on the lights, and laugh at ourselves while we get drunk. Sound like a plan?"

"Sure."

"I'm up for getting drunk."

"I guess."

"Alright." Kat cleared her throat once again, hacking a bit at the smoky smell that seemed to be growing stronger by the second. "You are called, demon. Take on flesh and blood. Walk among us now."

At the very moment Kat finished the final line, the candles set upon the table went out in unison, accompanied by considerable screaming.

"Very fucking funny, Kat."

"I didn't do anything."

"You just joked about the candles flickering."

"I'm telling you, I didn't do that."

Then the remainder of the candles went out. Chairs clattered and bodies collided. Jen winced in pain as her hip hit hard against the table in her haste to stand. The four clambered over each other to reach the stairs, tripping and falling in a pile at the bottom before scrambling back up, all sixteen limbs thudding against the plain boards thunderously.

Jen found the door with her head, grateful enough at the prospect of salvation to forgive the growing pain on her crown. She reached blindly through the darkness for the knob with both hands, latching on and grabbing tight. Other sets of hands found her arms and wrists as she fought with the door. It did not budge. At all. The handle made no movement or sound, not even rattling about as she tugged furiously. She abandoned the knob as other hands grasped it, turning instead to pound with open palms on the door. It was impossibly solid, hard as stone and unmoving. Despite her vigor, it neither budged nor made sound.

"Let us out!"

"What's happening?"

"Open the door!"

The four devolved to unintelligible screaming and pounding, but nothing happened. Screaming turned to hacking as the smoke grew stronger. Jen noticed dimly that her eyes had started watering from the irritation, but was too occupied pounding the door to take note. While subtle at first, with each weakening blow, the door felt noticeably hotter until it became too hot to the touch. The other three seemed to notice the same thing, and soon their efforts stopped.

"Oh my God, what's happening?"

"Will somebody please let us out?"

"Everyone, stop."

It was Kat's suddenly calm tone that finally quieted their frantic yelling. Jen felt a cold hand grip around her robe and tug repeatedly, grabbing her attention. She turned to look, but immediately wished she had not. A faint red glow permeated the basement below, the light appearing to emanate from everywhere. A thin haze hung about the room, blurring its features even in the dim light. The only thing untouched by the faint red glow was the pentagram upon the table, its features crisp and black as night.

"This isn't fucking funny, Kat."

"I told you, I have no idea what's going on."

"Let it go, Liz. There's no way this is just a prank."

"You mean it actually worked?"

The silence among them was enough of an answer.

"We have to go back down."

"Are you nuts?"

"What is standing up here doing? We're obviously sealed down here."

"We can stay here."

"For how long? We don't know when - or if - this is going to stop."

"Jen's right. We can at least go down and figure out what's going on."

"I'm not fucking going down there."

"We should all go together."

"Bullshit. I'm staying here."

"By yourself?"

In place of an answer, Jen felt one of Liz's arms clutch her robe and pull tightly. There was an unspoken consensus and, as one, they started to go down the stairs. One step at a time, more sliding than walking as none of them were actually standing, huddled together as they were. It was silent but for the pounding of blood in her ears, her heart threatening to explode as her pulse quickened with each step. The smell grew stronger as well, making the air feel warmer than it was and itching at her skin. It felt almost like that sudden blast of warmth that one felt after coming in from the cold, except it didn't end. In fact, it grew by the second, warming her exposed skin to the point of discomfort.

By the time they reached the bottom of the stairs, they were standing again, though still huddled together in a mass. Only Jen and Kat could actually see, the others too short or too hunched in to see above their sisters. Not that there was anything to see. The basement appeared as they left it, just now glowing red. The three wooden chairs were tipped over and the contents of the table (spare the pentagram) were now scattered about the floor from their panicked escape. While nothing looked especially threatening in the room, there was also no obvious way out. The basement had no other doors than the one they had already tried, but Jen had long given up assuming that any of this was supposed to make sense.

"Ugh."

With a groan, Amy slumped a few inches, her hands falling to her sides.

"Amy! Amy, what's wrong?"

She gave no answer but to slip further, held up right only by the pressing weight of the other three. She slumped further, her top riding up as she slid. Her breathing grew faster with each inch. Then she started to moan. The sound was like a jolt up her spine, so out of place in their terror, but also somehow right. None dared to move an inch as Amy continued to slide, her moaning turning into whispered pleas and strained yelps of delight. Her hand found Jen's robe and began to twist in time with her vocalizations, her body shaking and straining as her cries rose to a fevered pitch.

Jen reached out to her friend, grabbing a hold of her arm and preparing to lift her up. Instead, all the strength left her, legs and arms suddenly feeling weak and so very heavy. The sights and sounds of the world around her became indistinct, blurring into a mass of smoke, red, and the garbled but obviously frantic words of her friends. Then it hit her. Arousal exploded within her in an instant. All the fear, all the tension, it was all a misunderstanding. The terror that tightened her chest became tight embrace of a lover; the dread that forced her limbs to shake actually the violent release of passion. Her breath hitched at the revelation, her body and mind sinking lower as she ceased to hear and to see. All that mattered was the inferno that grew within her.

Her lust grew without end, her hips bucking and shaking in desperate search for stimulation. The rough cloth of her robe pressed against her slit, no doubt trapped against something hard. She rubbed against it, her efforts unfocused and irregular, her body too desperate for touch to move with any form of coordination. She could feel the rough cloth grow damp, feel the thin lines of arousal that flowed freely from her sex and clung to her burning skin. With her other senses taken away, she was trapped in a world of sensation. It was like she was wracked with a fever, every inch of skin burning and sensitive, yet each touch exploded into pleasure. Despite this, she could find no release. She understood, however. She knew that she would not find release until it was given to her. A steady trickle ran down her thighs. She could already sense his presence, more an understanding than any kind of real awareness. She called out to him, her lips mumbling vaguely coherent pleas as she moaned. He wanted her to show her pleasure. Each moan brought him closer to this world. No mere spell could bring him to this world. Brought here by our will, indeed. She could tell that her sisters were not far behind. It could not be long now.

Every second was agony, the flood of desire within her growing with no release. Her thighs rubbed together as her straining nipples rubbed against her clothes, sending bolts of hot pleasure shooting down her spine. It wasn't enough. All it did was drive her wild, her hips out of control as she sought her pleasure. Arousal splattered about inside her robe, smearing over her skin all the way up to her navel as she writhed. Her lips found skin and she began to lick and suck and bite without thinking, loving the taste and feeling on her lips and tongue. The skin was hot like her own and quivered at her touch. Hands not her own ran across her own body, the feeling electric no matter where they touched. Time did not seem to pass as she hung on the precipice, every second bringing more pleasure without plateau. Then she felt him.

What little strength of will and body she had left evaporated as he came into the room. Her eyes were not open, yet she could see him more clearly than if they had been. A hulking figure of rugged muscle, so unlike anything a human could ever be, covered from head to toe in fur the color of ash that did nothing to hide the bulge of hard muscle. His thick legs bent backwards and terminated in split hooves black and shining like obsidian. An enormous furred head like a goat sat between his shoulders, red eyes flickering and burning like a flare. His glorious form settled in the background of her mind as she stared transfixed, eyes focused on what stood between his legs - a pillar of throbbing red flesh, crossed by veins and swollen beyond possibility. It tapered and flared seemingly at random, with bumps and ridges appearing and disappearing across its length. It was enormous, well beyond the capacity of any woman, but that hardly mattered; she would be made to fit. What hung beneath was no less impressive, his furred scrotum hanging down to his knees. He was inexhaustible.

Even in her current state, she could hear the pleading and the moans of her sisters, each seeking to entice him to choose her. She whimpered and begged, but already knew that he had made his choice. His rod swung with each long step he took toward them, stopping at the edge of the pile. He reached down with a single hand, hefting Amy and disentangling her from their bodies. She hung limp in his arms because he wanted it that way. So did she. He ripped her clothing off with a single talon, the sharp instruments beneath her notice as she took in his form. With only the barest effort, he turned her over, placing her face-down upon the table before taking his place behind her.

He wasted no time with foreplay or teasing, positioning his tip at her entrance and pushing in. Amy let out a small moan as he parted her lips, slipping the tapering point of his length inside. It took little more than an inch for his overbearing size to slow down progress, her lips already stretched wider than she ever thought possible, though they would soon be much wider still. He pressed inside, reshaping her with his girth as inch after agonizing inch pressed inside. Amy trembled under the pressure, her hands finding strength enough to squeeze themselves white on the edge of the table as she panted and squirmed.

His progress was uneven, slowing slightly as a particularly large protrusion fought for passage before quickly slipping through to the next bulge. Amy's small frame truly showcased his size, her hips lifting off the table as her stomach distended in the shape of his shaft. It was just enough to lift her feet off the floor, toes curling in ecstasy. A moment later, he bottomed out inside her, somehow managing to fit the entirety of his obscene rod in the petite woman. Even in a more coherent state of mind, Jen would have struggled to explain how such a feat was possible, though the sheer volume of honey that poured from her slit, clung to her legs, and pooled on the floor was probably part of it.

Almost immediately, he began to withdraw, extracting his entire length in a fraction of a second before burying himself to the hilt again a moment later. His apparent gentleness only lasted long enough to mold her sex, their current passions best described as frenetic. Amy hung limp, her nails scrambling for purchase as she panted and screamed, his length literally fucking the air in and out of her lungs. As his speed increased, he leaned over her, hands resting on the table astride her shoulders. Each violent thrust rocked her entire body, her small but very well-proportioned ass jiggling in harmony.

What was happening could hardly be called sex. He took from her whatever he wanted, and his every motion made her scream and writhe. Her head lay flat on the table, forgotten next to the riotous sensation coming from her cunt. The rhythmic slaps of fur on skin echoed in Jen's mind. What will it be like when it is her turn? Would he bend her over and rut her like a bitch just as he was doing with Amy? Her body was his to use however he pleased. She dripped at the thought, her fantasies playing through her head as she watched her friend get violated.

It did not take long for the brutal fucking to throw Amy over the edge. Her toes curled mid-air, legs flexing involuntarily with each spasm of her abused walls while her breathing devolved into short moaning trills and gasps for air. Every inch of her trembled, from the red hair that shrouded her face to her pale back and beat-red ass. If he cared at all about her climax, it didn't show, his pace steady despite the pulsing vice of her orgasming pussy. With whatever shred of motor control she still had, Amy pushed her hips up in the air, arching her back and grinding her clit into his obscene length.

She never seemed to come down from her high, her body now visibly shaking all over, yet he showed no signs of stopping or even slowing. If anything, he began to fuck her harder, his hands working their way down to her hips and grasping, wrapping entirely around her slender body and pulling her onto him with every thrust. Between the rhythmic clenching of her sex and the knobs on his cock pounding in and out of her, her fluids sprayed in all directions, coating her reddened ass and wetting his fur. Jen yearned to lick it off them both, perhaps even drink it straight from the source, but could not summon the strength to move, not without his will.

After what felt like an eternity of brutal, relentless pounding, the demon began to snort, muscles flexing as he sheathed himself inside her again and again, not one thrust failing to meet fur to skin. His hands reached up, one cupping Amy's modest bust and the other grabbing her hair and dragging her nearly upright while her hips were still pinned to the table. Presented like this, it was even more obvious how impossible their coupling was, with his cock distending her taught stomach by a hand's breadth each time he bottomed out. Despite her obvious physical distress, her face showed nothing but unconstrained ecstasy, her eyes rolled up and jaw slack, lips drenched and dripping with saliva.

With an ear-splitting roar, he buried himself inside her one final time, pushing even deeper than before. Jen could see his sac lift and tighten before disgorging its load. The bulge in her stomach swelled at first, blunting the perfect mold of his cock before bursting, great torrents of thick creamy white pouring in quick spurts from her spasming cunt. The smell was incredible and all-consuming, going from Jen's nose straight to her cunt. His second pulse came a few seconds later, accompanied by the same swelling and leaking. Despite the lack of any movement, Amy continued to cum, the mere act of being filled enough to extend her endless orgasm.

Half a dozen enormous shots later, he finally relaxed, pulling slowly from her battered cunt. When he finally popped free, she was positively gaping, a torrent of thick white spunk slowly pouring from her ruined hole. What little of her pussy that wasn't covered in his seed burned red, flooded with arousal and beaten raw by his vigor. Jen moaned in desperate desire; she would give literally anything (except her turn with him) to simply sit below her leaking cunt and drink, mouth hanging open in mindless pleasure while cum ran down her face and tits.

The demon, meanwhile, had not softened at all, his cock shining wet and still dripping cum, but absolutely undaunted. Limitations clearly did not exist for him. His appetite was bottomless, but he was just getting started. He ran a single claw gently, almost lovingly down her back, stopping just above the cleft of her ass before stabbing in. Amy could only mutter and twitch as his claw carved effortlessly through her skin, twisting intricately in some unseen pattern. She had been marked. When he finished claiming her, he lifted her gently, setting her down softly a few feet over on the table to leak and spasm in peace. After regarding her one more time, seemingly content with his work, he turned to face the heap of women, sitting as best as he could upon the table.

Liz was next. They each simply knew it as fact that she would now be granted the honor of serving him. She rose, unsteadily, as though re-learning how to walk, and took her place before him, stripping easily as she walked. Apparently, she was naked under her gown. Large as he was, his towering tip nearly met her at eye-level as she stood. Despite this, she sank to her knees in obeisance. She had not yet earned the right to touch his shaft. Instead, she started at his thighs, her tongue licking his fur, drinking up the liquid arousal Amy had splattered upon him. She continued this all around, licking drenched fur wherever it could be found. She shuddered slightly with each lick, the taste driving her wild.

When every dirtied inch of his fur had been cleaned, she sank back down onto her heels and pressed her face between his thighs. She simply sat for a moment, eyes closed in bliss as she inhaled his scent. She blushed deeply, her sizable breasts turning crimson with arousal. A thick strand of her lust dripped slowly from her reddened lips. Then, with an unsteady tongue, she began to service his scrotum.

Arms still at her sides, she felt around as best she could with her mouth, seeking out the treasures hidden within. After a few seconds, she was worshiping him, virtually french kissing every fold of his sac as she dug around, moaning contentedly. When she eventually found what she was looking for, she dug in harder, taking his enormous ball into her mouth, filling it completely. She moaned even louder as she tumbled it around, doing the best she could with her limited physiology. Her eyes sought his, hoping for any signs of approval, but receiving little more than the same fiery stare. She redoubled her efforts, doing her best to suckle on his bloated form while moaning ever louder for his enjoyment.

In the meantime, her hands had begun to roam her body. She would not be allowed to touch him, but she was more than welcome to enhance the experience for herself. One hand pawed clumsily at her breast, while the other worked its way between her legs. She thrust her hips back, presenting herself to the girls that had not yet been chosen, teasing them with her pleasure. Two fingers pressed inside, an insubstantial insertion compared to what they had just seen, but filling her nicely all the same. Her fingers came out a second later, shining and slick with her own fluids.