Saira’s Ritual Awakened a Rebellious Demoness

The rain lashed the windows of the old mansion without mercy. The marble corridors remained impassive and silent, oblivious to the storm, except for a single room in the west wing from which a faint light and a continuous murmur of words escaped—words no human ear would have known how to decipher.

Suddenly a bolt of lightning split the night and thunder made the panes tremble. For an instant, every corner of the house was lit by a white, violent brilliance, as if the whole sky had come down to watch what was happening inside.

Saira was kneeling in the center of a circle drawn in chalk and salt. She was in her twenties, with black hair gathered into a loose bun and lips stained with the lipstick she used only for important rituals. She had spent weeks preparing that summoning. When the incense smoke curled in on itself and took shape, she knew she had done it.

In front of her appeared a huge woman. She was not the lesser spirit Saira had expected: she was a demoness with broad shoulders and sculpted arms, ash-hot skin, and two short horns peeking through her red hair. Her breasts were heavy, her belly defined, and her yellow eyes fixed on the witch with amused contempt.

—Arrogant little brat! —she roared, and her voice made the floor vibrate—. Who do you think you are, calling me here? I’m going to tear you into so many pieces not even your gods will be able to count them.

Saira didn’t flinch. She raised a hand and uttered a sharp syllable. From the circle sprang chains that seemed made of liquid light, coiling around the creature’s wrists and ankles and yanking her until she slammed against the marble.

—How scandalous you are —said the witch, standing up.

—You little bastard! —the demoness struggled, and the chains screeched without giving way—. When I get out of this I’m going to…!

She didn’t finish the sentence. Saira had come close, lifted her skirt and, with insolent calm, sat astride the creature’s face.

—You talk too much for someone chained on my floor —she murmured.

Let her learn who’s in charge here.

She gave her forehead a playful tap and then settled her sex against the demoness’s mouth. The creature’s burning skin was almost unbearably hot, and even so Saira didn’t pull away. She let out a small moan when she felt her prisoner’s furious breathing between her thighs.

—How about I let you go —she proposed, rocking her hips slowly— but in exchange you become my slave?

The demoness answered as best she could, trapped beneath the witch’s weight. Her long, hot tongue ran over the vulva above her, not to please but to humiliate, to prove she still had teeth. Saira squeezed her thighs around that huge head and felt the tongue sink into her, broad and insistent, trying to make her lose control too soon.

She held out. She let her lick a little longer, until pleasure began to cloud her judgment, and then she lifted herself just enough for the creature to speak.

—Ha! —spat the demoness, with her chin shining with saliva—. You think a spoiled little brat like you can subdue me? When I break these chains I’m going to shove my fist up your ass and sodomize you until you beg for mercy, bitch.

—As you wish —Saira replied without losing her composure, and sat back down on her mouth—. You can be my chair for as long as you need to understand it.

***

Each lick from the demoness was slower, more deliberate, and the witch realized too late that the game was slipping out of her hands. Her face flared red as a tomato and the bun finally came undone. She closed her eyes to concentrate on the subjugation spell she had to recite, and at that instant a monstrous thunderclap shook the entire house.

The fright left her pale. She lost the rhythm, lost the word she had been about to pronounce, and that was all the creature needed.

The demoness’s huge hands closed around Saira’s arms. The chains, fed by a concentration that no longer existed, flickered and dissolved like smoke. In less than a heartbeat the positions were reversed: now it was the witch on her back against the cold marble, and the hulk of ash and muscle towered over her.

—Well, well, puppy —the creature purred, licking her lips—. Didn’t I warn you?

—Let me go —Saira demanded, and for the first time her voice trembled.

—I could get a human whenever I felt like it —said the demoness, ignoring her—. But I’ll admit it was fun watching you try to tame me. So I’m going to return the favor.

She took her by the nape and kissed her. It wasn’t a kiss, it was a conquest: the creature’s tongue filled the witch’s mouth, hot and wet, playing with hers until Saira stopped resisting and followed her despite herself. When they parted, a strand of saliva stretched between the two.

—You know it very well, brat —said the demoness, satisfied.

She shoved her back against the floor. Her hands were so large they could have crushed her, but instead they moved slowly down the witch’s belly to part her thighs.

—Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to bite off more than you can swallow? —she murmured.

Two thick fingers, as big as a man’s thumbs, found Saira’s sex and sank into it. The creature moved them with calculated slowness, opening her, stretching her, watching every shudder on her face with the curiosity of someone studying an insect. Her enormous breasts hung over the witch’s, brushing them, and the heat radiating from her body seemed to fill everything.

—Enough! —Saira gasped, arching against her will—. Horrible beast, let me go or I’ll destroy you!

The demoness smiled at the threat.

—You’re a very proud woman, aren’t you? —she ran her tongue over Saira’s cheek, her neck, her collarbone—. I love ones like you. I love breaking them.

Saira kept her lips pressed shut, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a single moan. The creature didn’t bother with that. She kissed her neck, licked her small breasts until they hardened, while her fingers kept sliding in and out of her with cruel patience.

—You like big demonesses, don’t you? —she whispered against her ear—. If not, you’d have summoned anything else. And just look at you: you’re completely soaked.

It was true, and both of them knew it. The creature’s fingers flattened and opened her vulva with a skill no human lover had ever possessed, and Saira felt the orgasm gathering at the base of her belly like a storm about to break. She clenched her teeth. She was not going to come for that creature. Not tonight.

The demoness licked her face, tasting her resistance.

—Come on, let go —she cooed—. I know you want to.

***

It was pride, more than magic, that saved the witch. At the last instant, when pleasure was about to overwhelm her, Saira gathered the last breath she had and shouted the word she had been holding back.

—Stop!

The chains of light formed again out of nowhere and snapped around the creature with a hard crack, tearing her off the witch and dragging her back.

—Hey! —the demoness protested, writhing—. What now? Come on, we were having such a good time!

Saira sat up trembling, breathing in ragged pulls and with her body still throbbing with pent-up desire. She straightened her skirt, brushed the hair out of her face and sat, slowly, on top of her captive’s abdomen, reclaiming lost ground.

—This isn’t over —she said, and though she was out of breath, her voice had regained its edge—. Before dawn, you’ll be my slave.

The creature looked up at her and let out a laugh that echoed against the walls.

—Good girl. You’re a stubborn little bitch.

A clean kick from the witch to the middle of her jaw snapped her mouth shut.

—I’m no girl —said Saira, wiping sweat from her lip—. I’m Saira. And very soon I’ll know your name.

—Ha —the demoness spat to one side, still smiling—. Fine, stubborn little witch. Your pathetic attempts to dominate me are adorable. Truth is, I’m enjoying this game.

Saira stood up, leaving her chained on the floor, and walked over to the shelf that covered an entire wall of the room. Books with cracked covers, jars with substances that moved on their own, devices whose use no mortal knew. She ran a finger along the spines, still feeling the tingling of desire between her legs and, above all, the determination not to lose.

The night was long. The storm showed no sign of letting up. And that demoness, however arrogant she might be, still didn’t know who she had gotten herself involved with.

—Which one will I use on you? —murmured the witch, pulling out a volume with a black cover.

Behind her, chained and soaked, the creature licked her lips. Both of them knew it had only just begun.