Tricks and Treats of a Sex Demoness

While Roger was talking, Juma had come to the edge of the throng. I looked directly into Juma's eyes for just a moment. Hmm, she seemed to have found herself drawn toward us. You know how sometimes you've caught a stranger's gaze, and you might begin to believe just a little bit in magic, or that you two might just share compatible chemistry? Well, this particular attraction was no accident. It was my magic of psychic suggestion and chemistry. I caused this to happen.

As Roger hurled his ugliness, I took Jimmy's hand and squeezed it so he couldn't shrink away. Standing tall in my power boots, I issued a correction. "No one here could begin to pay me for what I do. And no, Jimmy is smart, sensitive, and quite powerful in his own right. I have found he challenges my passion for lust. He's no one's little boy." The words passion and lust intrigued Roger's greedy mind. And as I spoke, the molecules of pussy juice that I had just put on his hand were forming a chemical snare he wasn't even aware of.

While I was speaking, Juma had moved toward us, so she was standing at the other side of Jimmy, clearly concerned about the insults hurled his way.

I licked my upper lip to draw Roger in a bit more. "Roger, you have a gorgeous home. I would Love it if you would show me some of the intimate spaces." I reached out my right hand again.

Without even excusing himself from the other guests he took my hand. Jimmy gave me a quizzical look. I nodded my head discretely towards Juma. And just like that, Roger thought he was taking me away from Jimmy and pulling me into his lair. I joked with him as we walked. "Ooooh, can we start by seeing your dungeon?"

He made a point of walking nonstop as we snaked our way into his house. "Actually, I do have one." He opened a locked door to his office and led me inside. "How cool is this?" he asked as he motioned to a bookshelf with some sports memorabilia and a small statue of the Pope that looked out of character. He pushed aside the small statue of the Pope. Behind it was a hidden button. The bookcase, doubling as a hidden door, opened to an elaborate sex dungeon within. I couldn't help but wonder if there were a hidden message in using the Pope to conceal the portal into darkness.

As we stepped inside, I heard him lock the door behind us. I could sense the lingering energy of terror from past sessions in this space. A faint smell of bleach did not make the place smell clean. It appeared my intuition about Roger was right. He was a sadistic fucking monster. This dungeon was not about sexy titillation or exploring kink. Is had been built to incorporate fear into power plays for the dungeon master's gratification. Spotlights shown from a black ceiling to reveal a lot of bondage equipment, including chain hoists positioned over floor drains, and video equipment around some of the restraint equipment. An elaborate black leather bondage table was the centerpiece. It offered multiple D-rings, and adjustable sections for his depraved creativity. Along one wall were built in drawers, shelves, and hooks with lots of neatly coiled rope. On the other side was an ensuite bath/dressing space, some standing mirrors, a Sybian, and a fuck machine on wheels. I gasped in mock delight for his benefit, "Wow, you have a lot of toys! I'm getting wet thinking of all the fun we can have." The statement, unlike my tone of voice was all completely true.

I walked to the table, took a wide stance, and arched my back. He was on me like a spider on a butterfly. He pressed himself against me and forced a wet kiss. His tongue was in my mouth. Both of his hands were under my skirt, grabbing my ass to pull me in close. He was thinking only of forcefully having his way me as I unbuttoned his shirt. It was telling that he didn't discuss any BDSM protocols before he locked the door. There was no permission or safe word discussion before he started. He was not simply ignorant. He just considered me his next victim.

However, that kiss ensured he would follow my suggestions. I had just turned the tables on him. He would now have even more desperate, deep desires for sexual things that I wanted. He thought these deep desires were his own. But the events to follow would be at my direction. He didn't see that I could now supplant his ideas with my own, taking his logical thinking on a circuitous spin. I had manipulated him. He had unwittingly been drawn deeper and deeper into my trap while still thinking his choices were his own.

He started to grasp at the laces on my bodice. Idiot, the hooks were in the back. I yanked his shirt down which pulled his arms down too. He had to get his shirt off the rest of the way to go on the offensive again. I unbuttoned his pants and pulled down his zipper then stepped back. With wide eyes I tempted him again. "Roger, you have a nice chest, but first could we, umm you, maybe indulge me with something?" I turned and bent over against the smooth upholstery of the table. My skirt rode up to expose plenty of ass cheek and the bulge of my swollen mons Venus. He was mesmerized when I pulled my skirt up further on one side as I spread my legs. "I'm a bit of an exhibitionist. Would you use those cameras to take some video while I take off my outfit? Use a tripod so you can help me?"

Annoyed with his remaining clothes, he stepped out of his shoes and pants. His obviously shorter-than-average cock was pointing straight out very rigidly erect. He would do what I wanted, because he thought he was going to fuck me with that thing. Don't get me wrong. I like all cock and have had some very good times with many of the smaller ones. But for men like Roger, it's just their attitude I want to fuck with. He quickly set up the video and turned on some spotlights. He had done this before. "Roger," I ask, "will that transmit to the big screen behind the bar upstairs? I'm feeling really kinky."

He replied with a wicked, "Oh yeah, this is going to be epic. Everyone will see me fuck the living shit out of all your dirty little slut holes. We're live."

There was a production monitor with a ceiling mount so I could be sure the camera got a great diagonal view as I made a show of bending my knee and lifting my foot. I then looked straight into the camera as I bit my lower lip, lowered my foot back to the ground and stuck my ass out. In my sultry voice I moaned, "Oh Goddess, I'm so wet. Help me take off my panties." They didn't really cover much but it was a good show as Roger pulled them down. I stepped out of them and stepped back some into a classic booty-up pose. I flipped my braided hair to the side, licked my lips and wiggled my ass. He grabbed at my short skirt and pulled it down. I kicked it aside and spread my legs wid. My pussy was fully offered to Roger. The smell of my sex was consuming his mind. "Roger just taste me first, then tie me to the bench and fuck me like the powerful man you are."

He smirked. "I never lick pussy. But I might put you on your knees later and use your mouth to clean off my cock - if you're lucky."

Of course not. There was the true Roger showing through. What an asshole. But I had another move ready. I turned and arched my back with one hand on the black padded bondage table behind me. With my hand closest to the camera, I lewdly stroked my pussy and spread my engorged lips. Now with my whole hand sopping wet I sensuously sucked my fingers. I hoped the camera could see my wet glossy red lips. Roger pulled me in close to try and get the bodice off again. I whispered in his ear that the hooks were in the back. He was distracted as his mind slowly registered that fact. As he reached behind me, I aggressively kissed him so he would experience the power of my juices. Now he was completely mine. Roger was stunned by the level of his own lust. My bodice fell to the floor. I spun away from the table like an exotic dancer and granted the audience a view of my perky tits. I gave a show of seductively cupping them and slid my hands to pull each hard nipple. Roger was holding the side of the table with his head spinning. I coolly clasped one wrist with the cuff that hung from the side. He gave me a questioning look. "Roger, you're so hard. Let me do this. I really want to ride you in front of the camera." With that offer he just let me maneuver him into position. In no time I had him on the table with his wrists and ankles cuffed to the sides. I adjusted the slope of the table with the foot pedals, so the audience had a clear view of his slightly flabby body. As worry crept into his mind his cock deflated to half-mast. I used some of my slick juices to tug him hard again. He was definitely not as big as his ego.

He watched as I prepared for my fun. I strutted over to the wall with the big hardware. I put a spreader bar, some coils of rope and a long crop on the fuck machine cart. I grabbed one of the big standing mirrors on wheels and pulled everything behind me as I seductively strutted my way back. He started to give me orders, "Wait, you wanted me to tie you up, remember?"

I unlatched the lower half of the table so it could open. It could now swing open like the bottom half of a St. Andrews Cross. This spread his legs wide. I attached the carabiners on his ankle cuffs to the ends of the spreader bar. Then like the pro I am, I used the hoist to lower the chain. I turned into the camera (and the viewing audience) with a smirk. "I lied. I really wanna do this instead. Now, this is your warning, shut up or I'll punish you like you deserve."

I hooked the chain to the D-ring welded at the center of the spreader bar. The audience got a good show looking at my shapely legs and butt as I paraded to release the ankle cuff carabiners from the table anchors. Then I hoisted his legs up until his ass was completely off of the table. His upper back and shoulders were still on the table supporting most of his weight. His spread cheeks were on full display. What a pristine white target. I adjusted the mirror so the audience could get a look at his face too. During that process Roger realized he had lost control. He got angry when he realized he had been tricked. He began yelling at me, cursing, and complaining loudly in a futile attempt to regain the upper hand. I sternly raised my voice to him, "Roger, I will not respond again until you address me as Mistress. You refused to do that earlier when we met. You were very rude. Further, I am going to use the crop twenty times as your punishment for not being quiet when I last commanded you to shut up."

His face was boiling red with anger. He spat out, "Bring it bitch. You're not a mistress, just a whore."

He obviously hadn't ever been cropped himself. Otherwise, he wouldn't seriously issue that challenge to the crop holder. I've had a lot of practice. I placed eight hard strikes on each ass cheek. He was howling in pain as red welts grew in perfectly spaced red lines. I checked in with him. "Roger, because you were so rude, I didn't give you a warmup. I'm sure that really hurt, so I could show you some mercy and make the last four a bit lighter. Would you like to ask your Mistress for mercy?"

Tears were streaming from his red face. He blustered, "Fuck you." Then set his jaw with determination.

Yet his misgivings were showing through with the worry lines fully on display across his forehead.

"OK then, we'll continue." He thought I'd keep punishing his ass. Surprise. I lowered the spreader bar some. His ankles were held wide apart so that the sweaty space between his asshole and his ball sack was in perfect view. I placed one hard strike at the base of each side of his scrotum and the last two over his pucker. That area was extremely sensitive. He was howling so loud one would think the man was being tortured. I could feel terror within him. He remembered what he had done to others. I asked him if he wanted any more.

The adrenalin coursing through his veins had him trembling. He croaked out "No." I gave him a questioning look and spanked the crop lightly in my hand. He quickly tried again. "No, thank you Mistress." The bully was broken, even quicker than I would have guessed.

Good, time to move on. I lowered the spreader bar, removed it, and reattached his ankles to the table anchors. I let him watch me attach a ten inch dildo to the fuck machine. Mind you, that was not the biggest in his collection. I squirted some lube on it until it was dripping and then some on his cock, balls, and over his asshole. I next lined that monster up for the assault. His eyes were wide, but he kept his mouth shut. I calmly asked, "Roger, I want my pussy sucked, would you like to do it?"

He answered without hesitation, "Yes, Mistress."

I asked again, "Really, Roger, do you really want to? Is that how you would ask your Mistress if you really wanted to?"

He answered, "Please, Mistress. I really want to taste your pussy. Please?"

This was actually the truth. He wanted it. Normally he hated the idea of pleasuring a woman this way. He had thought it somehow emasculated him. Now the events of this powerplay had me quite stimulated. I made a show for our remote viewers of strutting my stuff and climbing onto the table. I stood over his face and slowly squatted myself down as I held onto the chain before me. I pointed my tits for the camera with pride. My pussy was spread for all to see as he started lapping with genuine hunger. My juices had him so aroused he would continue to do anything I asked. All of his pain was forgotten. I kept my back arched, threw my hair over my shoulder, and rode him like a barrel racer. I then slid forward and stroked his hard cock a bit while he gasped for breath. Then I was back on his face, squatting down on his furiously working tongue. I let myself cum hard and lifted myself off of him to spray my amrita over his face and body. I sat back down on his chest and consciously pushed out the remaining cum that Jimmy had put so deep up within me. I'd been saving it for this moment. It was a private little gift to myself as I smeared my crotch over Roger's face and chest. I was sure that was quite a show. But I wasn't done yet.

I turned to Roger. His cock was raging hard. "Would you like a reward now?"

He eagerly and loudly replied, "Yes, Mistress. Please." He hoped I might ride his cock that so desperately needed relief. He was wrong. I lined the dildo on the fuck machine up with his ass hole and turned it on to a slow setting. Just the tip was poking rhythmically against his asshole.

The worried look on his face was priceless. I sensed that he'd never had his ass fucked by anything. I said, "Relax Roger. That's the only way to enjoy this." I zoomed the camera in a bit and adjusted the mirror to clearly show his worried face again. Then I pushed the extend button. The machine slowly advanced the dildo in a few inches. I stopped everything, as he was clearly in pain, and squirted some more lube on his asshole. I reminded him, "Relax Roger. Now I'm going to go freshen up a bit. I'll be right back." I turned the fuck machine back on slow and gathered my discarded clothes. In the dressing room area, I used a soft towel to wipe the splatter off of my boots and got dressed. I touched up my makeup and brushed out my hair. Getting back to Roger I saw a small puddle of cum on his belly and his cock was seeping some more. I asked how he was doing.

He surprised me. "Thank you, Mistress. I've never experienced anything this sexy and exciting. I actually really enjoyed it. Can I please be released now?"

I answered, "Can you see where maybe a safe word would have come in handy? You didn't think they were useful, did you? Moreover, any good Mistress will push your boundaries some. But don't worry. We are almost done." With that I extended the stroke of the dildo until he was squirming. He was maybe taking seven inches. That would do. Next, I increased the pace, to give him a good pounding. He started to grunt like an animal in time with the thrusting. His eyes were wide as he watched me walk to his pants, retrieve the lone key in his pocket and head to the door.

I unlocked the door, put the key back on the floor inside the dungeon, and left Roger alone with his predicament. Back in the office, I marveled at how well the entrance was hidden once the door was closed firmly. I decided to not hide the button with the Pope statue. I wanted him to be found. This wasn't Easter after all.

In the living room a group of guests were fixated on the screen. Outside a crowd was watching the big screen above the bar. Everyone was riveted in anticipation to see what would happen next. I slipped to the side of the bar without being noticed. I saw the bartender's nametag and call him over. "Barkeep Bob, I want you to do something for me." He instantly recognized me. I gave him the Shhhh sign as he hurried over. I dumped the candy out of the clear glass pumpkin bowl on the bar. I replaced the treats with ten, hundred dollar bills. I slipped another $100 to the bartender and asked him to give me a minute, then make an announcement. "The $1,000 was my party treat. It will go to whoever finds our host and helps him out of his secret dungeon." As I slipped out the front, the partygoers heard the challenge. They were starting to scurry on their quest to find Roger. Poor Rodger would undoubtedly be feeling some pain by then. And then there would be the emotional anguish he would experience as he was found by his guests and fully realized that they had all seen the whole show. Served that monster right.

I had a big smile on my face as I called my Uber driver. Roger's ego is all that got beat up. Well, mostly, at least no one suffered any permanent physical harm. And I made sure Jimmy was respected and well taken care of. See, for a demoness, I wasn't actually evil and doomed to eternity in hell. In some ways, I had done a good thing.

Later that night the Uber driver was to be my next meal, but only if he wanted to be with me. You see even with my persuasion it works best for me when we both benefit. If he wanted it badly, his enthusiasm and anticipation would raise his energy to a delicious level of sweetness. But even in that moment, I knew it would only be if he wanted it to be. And it turned out that he did. When he consented by desperately saying he wanted me, I sucked and fucked him well into the pre-dawn hour, leaving him so drained from multiple orgasms he didn't care to wake for his alarm in the morning.

As always, I got the most life energy from my prey while they were living at the edge of their wildest sexiest fantasies. I was good at sensing exactly where 'too far' was. As a result, we both ended up getting what we passionately wanted.

`~~~~~~~~~`

Such is my life as a demoness of sex. Now I promised you a truth, right? I might be ruthless and cold, but I keep my promises. So, here you go.

You were probably told at school and at church from a young age that everyone's basically good. You know, treat others as you would want them to treat you, and everyone will get along and be happy. Right?

Well, that's simply not true. I exist, and I am an arrogant, self-centered life-sucking demoness. There are other beings from other worlds, too, and not all of them are benevolent. But non-humans like me are rare and luckily for you, most don't tend to stick around long. And I'm not all bad, either. After all, I told you a couple of erotic tales, and I only took a few minutes of life energy from a few people. At least I made a trade. They got some incredible sexy pleasure.

Now from my perspective, humans mostly live their lives in shades of grey. A few are enlightened with the creative power of Love. A few at the other end of the spectrum are truly monsters. All of us are too complex to simply categorize as good or bad. Nonetheless, you do need to be extremely careful about whom you open yourself up to. You really need to be cautious around those people with malevolent intentions. One in twenty humans has significant sociopathic, narcissistic, or outright psychopathic traits that dominate their behavior. Don't believe me? Look it up. While you're at it, look up how to identify those types. They are the true sources of evil in your society. Those people are the ones who get rich by creating and selling products that physically hurt other people. They are the ones that pay their workforce as little as possible and make them work away their best years so the rich can get richer. They are the ones who use force to impose control over morality and economic values through religion and politics. They want society to function for their benefit. They are the real monsters living in your midst this Halloween.