Open to Interpretation

Katie sat down on the floor, in the middle of the invoking circle.

The spell had two parts: the construction of the circles, and the recitation of the words. She had practiced both separately plenty of times. The circles were to be arranged and placed to the painfully exact specifications of the instructions, and the words were to be said loudly, clearly, and calmly. Her separate practice runs had been necessary to ensure she would be comfortable with both parts so she could easily do the whole spell.

Both circles had been arranged perfectly; now all that remained was the recitation.

She looked over to the summoning circle, and then down to the open book in her lap.

The words came easily, her tone of voice strong, her pace of reading steady. There were no instructions regarding which words, if any, were to be emphasized, so she made sure to maintain the same tone and pace.

The recitation was over quickly, and she looked back at the summoning circle.

The book had also not mentioned what the signs of a successful summoning spell would be. So, she had found herself imagining something unmistakable, like a booming voice or flames bursting to life around her.

What came instead, was silence.

She sat there, staring at the summoning circle, willing something to happen, even as disappointment swelled inside her. The logical, realistic voice in her head spoke up: 'Of course nothing would happen, this was a fucking stupid idea, the book is just fantasy, written by crazy people who believe in magic and demons'.

And then she noticed something across the room.

On the far wall, a dark spot swirled into being, no bigger than her hand.

But then it grew.

At first, it began to spread out on the wall.

And then, as it blanketed more of the light blue, it began to stretch out into the room.

Katie watched, frozen in place.

The spot had swelled into a mass, and now was advancing.

She squinted, trying to peer through the encroaching darkness, heart racing.

A realization hit her when she could not see through it.

It was no simple darkness, for it did not simply extinguish the light around it, nor could her eyes adjust to it.

Rather, it was a slithering, creeping darkness, a mass of shadows. It coated the room, everything disappearing in its inky wake: the posters of musicians she had put up when she had moved in, the dresser to her right, even the floor before her.

She had kept the ceiling light and her bedside table lamp on, trading off the solemn atmosphere dimness would have created for better light to read by. The book had also not specified any atmospheric necessities, so she had not thought her bright room would be a deterrent to any summoned demon.

That brightness was no match for this darkness.

The ceiling light disappeared, the only light in her room now the bedside table lamp, fighting valiantly but hopelessly.

The mass of shadows reached and passed her. Despite an instinctive shudder running down her spine, there was no noticeable sensory difference, no coldness, no physical displacement. She sat on what had been the floor but was now shadows and watched the mass smother the rest of the room, her bed, her bedside table, finally reaching the near wall. Her bedroom was now a featureless, formless space, but somehow, despite the smothering darkness, she could see.

Fear gripped her, but it was accompanied by excitement, triumph, and satisfaction.

"Who has summoned me?"

Her head whipped to the left, where the voice had come from, but there was no one visible there.

"Speak your name."

The voice was now in front of her, so she looked quickly, and gasped.

A vague shape stood out from the darkness. Although it seemed to be made up of the same shadows as the darkness, these shadows were swirling hypnotically.

At first, there was not much she could make out besides the vague shape itself.

But after a few seconds, the swirling shadows began to arrange themselves into an approximately humanoid figure.

First came the head, a sharp, tapered jawline leading along high, aristocratic cheekbones and up towards a wriggling mass of smaller shadows that seemed to simulate hair.

Down from the head, the rest of the figure arranged itself. The neck lead to a slim midsection, sinewy arms, and spindly-fingered hands. The lower half came last, the shadows creating long legs that ended in spindly-toed feet, the figure mirroring her cross-legged seated position. Somehow, there was a stark definition between the figure and the darkness around it, even as the shadows, liveliness aside, were the same.

"What is your name?"

The voice was deep and smooth, surprisingly pleasing to the ears. She leaned forward, and gasped again, as, as if sensing her attention, the shadows that made up its face swirled around to create two eyes, a strange glittering setting them apart from the rest of the face, and a mouth, a thin, sharp line simulating lips.

"Tell me your name."

Those eyes stared straight at her, mysterious and inscrutable.

Their gaze jarred her from her reverie.

"Uh...Katie. My name is Katie."

A short silence followed. She pinched herself subtly, checking if this was a dream.

"So then...Katie. You have a wish to be granted?"

"...yes."

"What is it you desire?"

She hesitated.

Her first foray into music had come at eleven years old, when she had discovered a guitar that her father had given her mother years ago. It had been neglected for a long time, as her mother's interest in it had been short-lived. But Katie had been curious, and so had learned how to play, first the basics, then certain songs. She had enjoyed that process and had started dreaming about becoming a rock star. The next step had been coming up with original music, which she had found difficult. Disheartened by that difficulty, she had put the guitar back in the attic, abandoning that burgeoning dream, and moved on to other pursuits.

"I want to have great musical talent. Songwriting, guitar playing, singing, performing."

Her next foray into music had come during junior year of high school, after a talent show in which another student had shown off his own musical talent. Seeing that had made her think about the guitar and her abandoned dream, and a few days later, she had rescued the former from the attic. It had been easy enough to relearn how to play it, although there had been some rustiness. This time, she wrote a few songs as well, nothing deep or poetic, but simple expressions of her mindset, those mild successes increasing her desire to make a name playing music. At the next talent show, she had signed up, but unexpected stage fright had rendered her performance a flop. Aside from a few teasing comments, no one had made much fun of her, but the flop had made her give up on her dream once again.

"An easy wish to grant. Something many before you have asked for."

She nodded.

"And you know the price?"

She nodded again.

The book she had found had contained different summoning spells. They were mostly the same but for the specific demon to be summoned. What set them apart was what they demanded as payment. One wanted the spellcaster's soul, another the spellcaster's body, another lifelong homage in the form of occasional blood sacrifices.

"You want my firstborn."

"Yes. Do you agree to the terms of the contract? I grant you the great musical talent you desire, and in exchange, you give me your firstborn."

She hesitated again.

Her third foray into music had come during sophomore year of college. One of her favorite bands had been playing near campus, so she had gone with friends. During the show, the lead singer had talked briefly about her stage fright, and how she dealt with it. Hearing that one of her personal heroes dealt with the same problem had inspired Katie to take up that old guitar again. The following summer had been spent relearning how to play once again and writing a few more songs. Her junior year had been spent trying to overcome stage fright, which she had managed. Part of the process had been simply playing in front of people, and thankfully, she had supportive, helpful friends who had been willing to watch her play until she felt confident enough to perform in public for lesser friends and outright strangers.

"I agree."

The demon stared back at her, that glittering gaze eerily piercing.

"I must warn you that many who make this deal attempt to circumvent the terms by never having a child. You will find such an attempt will very likely fail. And in the slight chance your death bed finds you childless, well...there are fates worse than death."

She nodded.

"I will honor our contract. You will have my firstborn."

He nodded back at her, and then stood, the swirling shadows that made up his body unfurling sinuously. Her heartbeat thumped quicker as she trailed her eyes over that figure. It seemed to respond to her gaze, forming a more defined shape as well as texture.

The spell she had read in the book had been quite clear that the price of any exchange with this demon would be her firstborn child. It had been easy enough to mentally make that trade, in part because of her fervent desire for musical success, and in part because of her understanding that it was entirely possible that the spell was simply make-believe.

After graduation, she had committed to her dream, having kept stage fright at bay, performing in college talent shows and at local cafes regularly by the end of her senior year. But it had proven to be difficult, as although she was committed, her talent was not quite equal to that commitment. Constant practice helped, but after several years of trying to break through, she had found herself worrying that her dream was out of reach.

But now, it was within reach, albeit with a price.

The demon turned away, and out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the darkness receding, the blue of the far wall now visible.

"Wait!" she said quickly, her heart pounding against the inside of her chest.

The demon turned back and fixed its eyes on her. The darkness paused, an inch off the wall.

"You wish to reconsider?"

"No."

When the demon stayed silent, she spoke up.

"You want my firstborn child, right?"

The demon nodded.

"Those are the terms of our contract, correct."

She stood, and smoothed out her dress, a simple, comfortable outfit that showed off a bit of cleavage to boot.

That glittering gaze scared her slightly, but with her dream within reach, there was no hesitation as she padded forward, bare feet making no noise atop the shadows.

"So then, you can have my firstborn child."

A few months ago, an elderly, slightly batty woman in her childhood neighborhood had died. Her mom had befriended the woman before her death, and since there had been no next of kin, she had decided to clean out the old woman's house. She had dragged Katie along. The day had been uneventful, until Katie had found a box labelled 'forbidden' in the basement. In the box, which had been closed only by a few strips of duct tape, were several items, including a small statuette of a black goat, a silver ring set with a blood-red ruby, and a heavy, dusty book. Bored, and slightly interested, she had skimmed through the pages, chuckling at the stern foreword warning the reader of the danger of the knowledge the book could impart, and then had stumbled upon the chapters containing spells to summon a wish-granting demon. That idea, as ridiculous as it had seemed, had piqued her interest, so she had read on. Her interest had been offset by the price of each spell, until she had reached the chapter on this particular demon.

The demon cocked its head as she neared.

"Those are the terms, yes."

She was now right in front of it. It was slightly taller than her, its frame slender, the shadows that made up that frame swirling lazily.

"There is a way we can arrange the contract," she purred, reaching out with a trembling hand, "where you can have that firstborn sooner rather than later."

Her hand met the demon's chest, feeling solidness but no warmth. That glittering gaze looked back dispassionately.

"I will have your firstborn sooner or later," the demon said, its voice calm and level. "It does not matter to me when."

The introduction to the spell had simply said that the particular demon it summoned would take her firstborn child as recompense for a granted wish. There had been no specifications or other details, so she had resolved to interpret the wording in her own way and hope for an agreeable demon.

"We can cut out the middleman," she told him, summoning a flirty smile.

"There is no middleman. We are the only two involved in this contract."

Her hand trailed downwards, skimming over its stomach.

"What I'm trying to say," she began, augmenting the smile with her best come-hither look, "is how about you give me my firstborn?"

Her hand, during the sentence, reached down past its stomach.

There were a few seconds of silence, during which she kept up the smile and look.

"Oh," the demon said finally.

A few more seconds of silence followed.

"Oh," it repeated, this time louder and more drawn-out, as if the full extent of her proposal had dawned on him.

The calmness in that gaze was replaced by interest.

"No one has interpreted the contract that way before."

She shrugged.

"There weren't specifics besides you getting my firstborn. I thought this might be more fun."

"Fun?"

She nodded.

"Fun, interesting, strange. I've never been with a demon, and I don't imagine you've ever been with a woman."

"No, I have not."

She summoned another flirty smile.

"So, what do you say? Do you agree to the terms of the contract?"

Although the only loophole she had found in the contract the book described was simply not having a child, she had figured that any demon worth its salt would be able to get around that. So, she had decided to interpret the wording this way. It would be easier to have the demon impregnate her. Not only would her payment for the granted wish be out of the way early on, but she would not have to worry about having children later in life out of necessity. And as long as she did not get attached to the child, it would be easier to hand them over without having to worry about their father. Even with her understanding that the spell was likely make-believe, and her fervent desire for musical success, sacrificing a child had not been a thrilling proposition, but she had told herself that it would already be half-demon anyway. Part of the equation as well was the idea of having sex with a demon, which to her lapsed Catholic sensibilities, had been surprisingly exciting.

She waited for the demon's answer, fidgeting nervously.

Finally, it spoke up.

"Yes."

The shadows making up its body began to change. As she watched, flesh replaced darkness.

In seconds, the demon had become human.

She stepped back to let her eyes slide down the new look: his physique was sleek and lean, his skin a pleasingly olive tone. Down between his legs, where before had been nothing, was an erect cock.

She took hold of it. The shaft was firm and warm, throbbing against her palm. She let her thumb tease over the head, feeling it twitch in her grip.

Biting her lip, her own arousal mounting, she looked back at the demon's new face. Those striking facial features had remained, which gave him a strange, yet undeniably alluring, appearance. The wriggling shadows that had approximated hair had been replaced by actual hair, the dark, curly tresses reaching down to his shoulders. He met her gaze with his own, that inky glittering replaced by a bright blue.

She began to stroke along his length. He groaned softly and looked down to watch.

"Do demons have sex?" she asked him.

He shook his head.

"This will be a new experience for me."

"I'll try to take it easy on you."

He ignored the joke, his attention squarely on what her hand was doing.

She stroked steadily, occasionally raking her eyes over the rest of his slender frame, appreciating his smooth, sinewy skin.

Underneath her dress, her thighs rubbed together. She had forgone underwear, since her hope had been that the encounter would go this way and she would not need any. Her nipples stiffened now from her excitement, the sharp buds pressing into the fabric of the dress.

She let go of his cock.

His disappointed grunt was soon replaced by a husky growl when she pulled her dress off and threw it aside.

She bit her lip at he gazed at her nakedness, lewd hunger springing to life on his face.

His hand reached out, and she stood still to let it land on her breast. A thrill ran over her at the thought of being felt up by a demon, but she did not move as a finger teased over her nipple, the sensation making her suck in a quick breath.

The demon looked up at that reaction, a pleased smile blooming on his lips.

His finger rubbed lightly at the nipple, and then his other hand went to her other breast. Where the first was curious, the second was more assertive, squeezing and kneading, her pliant flesh dimpling in his grip. She cooed, seeing hunger mingle with delight in his eyes. Her thighs rubbed together again, slickness gathering on her sex.

She took hold again of his cock, his eyes flitting to lock with hers for a few seconds before moving back to her breasts. As he caressed and groped at them, she worked her hand along his cock, biting her lip at how it pulsed against her palm.

The more assertive hand slid down from her breast. She shivered as it reached her sex, its fingers trailing atop the soaked folds. A moan tumbled from her, and her hand began to move quicker along his shaft, making him moan in turn.

Two fingers ran over her slit and eased through. She shivered again as her channel welcomed them. He curled them against her walls, making her moan again.

The fingers slipped from her. He looked at them curiously, and then brought them to his lips. The eager slurping that followed thrilled her, her arousal building higher.

She pressed closer to him.

They sank to their knees together, and she pushed him down onto his back on the floor of shadows.

He watched as she leaned over and sucked the head of his length into her mouth. There was a very slight flavor there, her tongue swirling around to gather more of it. He groaned, his back arching, his hips jutting up. She placed a hand on his stomach, splaying her fingers out over those tensing abs, and pushed down. The message was received, his body dropping back to a flat position. Her other hand wrapped around the base of his length and slid up. As he groaned again, but stayed still, she dropped her mouth down, meeting her hand partway.

Her hand and mouth worked together, treating him to a steady rhythm. He went up carefully on his elbows to better watch her, and she delighted in the expressions that played over his face, the pleasure, the surprise, the curiosity. His groans kept coming, some loud and lewd, others soft and breathy.

She soon detected another flavor meeting her tongue and drew back in time to see a bead of pre-cum seep from the head of his length. That bead fell prey to her tongue like its predecessor.

"Are you ready?" she asked, moving to straddle him, letting his straining cock rest against her belly.

His eyes widened, and he nodded.

She wrapped a hand around his cock, raised her hips, and lined it up to her dripping slit.

One downward shove brought her halfway down his length.

Her breathless cry was met by his satisfied sigh. She put her hands on his chest, fingers curling atop the firm flesh there.

His cock throbbed inside her, so hot, so hard.

Another downward shove brought her all the way down, easily taking it inside her. She swayed unsteadily. As she threw her head back, luxuriating in the sensations, his hands landed on her hips, squeezing curiously.