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The Magus 1/3 (mf,ff)


All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.

Subject: THE MAGUS Pt.1 (of 3): m/f, f/f occult, B&D
Reply-To: [email protected] (SEMO)
Date: Wed Jul 5 01:20:00 1995

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

I wrote this story because I was tired of reading stories about

blonde, tanned cheerleaders, and because I wanted to try my hand at
writing an erotic story. Enjoy.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The following story contains graphic descriptions of sex, and
some scenes of sex involve otherworldly creatures. If you are offended
by such stories, or, if you are under 18: STOP READING NOW!

THE MAGUS
---------

CHAPTER I: Concerning a Demon and Love

Outside Pendleton Hall the winter was showing his strength.
His icy fangs hung from every awning and every drainage pipe, his
voice howled across the fields and through the campus with maddening
persistence. There was no moon to glint on the icy shell that seemed
to cover all outdoors. The small staff of janitors at Westbridge
College fought a valiant struggle, but lost. Winter had conquered,
and snow was the occupying enemy.
This was the most brutal winter in sixty years. Most students
hadn't been able to return to the college after winter break. Some,
however, had returned early for January term. However, almost all the
classes had been canceled for the last two weeks. The snow gave quarter
to a far greater enemy. Weeks of packed ice that made travel an almost
lethal proposition.
Room 223 on the second floor of Pendleton Hall belonged to a
girl named Julia Westcott. Inside, in the flickering glow of ritual
candles, two girls were huddled over an intricate and arcane symbol.
They were dressed in black robes and chanted incantations in a language
forgotten before the rise of the pharoahs. Everyone going to Westbridge
knew who the older haired girl was. That was Julia. The weird girl. Her
head shaved down to a black velvet stubble, with the exception of
several thin braids in the front. If one was to go by transcripts, Julia
was an extremely bright twenty year old. If one was to go by the well
oiled rumor mill at Westbridge, she was a girl to be feared. In her
freshman year a senior cheerleader had called her a freak. The next
night, the cheerleader murdered her own boyfriend and killed herself in
the only violent crime ever to mar the college's pristine record.
Since then, Julia was feared universally on campus. She was
strikingly beautiful. She had warm blue eyes, and a great smile. She
stood five feet, eight inches tall, and had a nicely curved body, with
slightly small, firm breasts. She was a fan of piercings too, she
proudly wore several hoop rings in her face, one in the far left of her
left eyebrow, one in her right nostril, and one in her lower right lip.
She had six hoops in her right ear, and three hoops and two studs in
her right. Had she not earned such an evil reputation, she would have
been one of the most sought after girls on campus. As it was, she had
wrecked the biggest frat parties by walking into the room. Some of the
more religious students even whispered she was a satanist, and her
neighbors in Pendleton would all request housing transfers after the
first week or two.
The other girl, Dara La Fontaine was considerably lesser known.
A freshman from New Orleans. Her hair was also black , and cut to chin
length, it framed her bone white face in a manner that was vaguely
exotic. She had a small, but growing reputation. Again, she was, by
school records, a very bright art student. However, according to those
who met her, she was at least as far gone as Julia, if not moreso. Her
paintings were downright unsettling, highly erotic visions of some dimly
lit other world. She had her share of would be boyfriends since she had
started school at Westbrook. However, she was very shy, and as the
guys who had gone out with her put it, "She wouldn't put out." She was
gorgeus, bone white skin, perfect complexion, and eyes that suggested
some oriental lineage. She was smaller than Julia, she stood four feet
nine inches, and she was a little slimmer as well. However, her
breasts were a little larger, but she tended to dress much more
seductively.
They sat on the cold tiled floor and chanted ancient syllables,
and rites that had not been practiced since the middle ages. Dark rites.
The wind howled louder, and their chanting rose to a crescendo, in the
cacophany, there was a crackling, and an electric blue flash.
All fell silent. There, in the dim light of the candles, stood a
man, or, at least at first glance. On closer examination it could be
seen that this creature appeared to be a statue carved of the blackest
obsidian, with glowing veins of an intense red running, coarsing,
through its body. The eyes glowed a deep, dark blue. It panned about the
room with its head, his gaze coming to rest at the two girls. Dara
seemed a little shaken.
It spoke, "Oh most high and mighty who has summoned me from my
home, what is your request, and what is your payment?" As it spoke, the
fire running through its veins grew brighter and dimmer. Dara stared at
it in awe. Nothing she had painted could approach the dark sensuality it
exuded. When Julia said she could summon demons, she didn't believe at
first. She thought, like the others on campus, that Julia was a crack-
pot. Now one stood just inches from her face, and she could feel the
heat of its presence.
Julia replied to the demon, "My request and my payment are one
in the same, this girl, Dara la Fontaine, wanted to see a demon, you are
it. She also wanted to have intercourse with one of the unholy. That is
your payment and her request."
Dara looked a little more shaken now, but she assumed she would
have to go through with it. Reniging on a contract with the unholy,
Julia had told her, could have most dire consequences for all involved.
She didn't know if she wanted to actually DO it with this creature.
Although, looking at his smoothe marble-like skin, and his attractive
form, she figured that it couldn't be that bad. She reached a hand out
to stroke one of his shiny black legs and was pleasantly surprised. His
temperature was just above that of a human. She had expected it to be
much colder.
She stood and let her robe fall off of her shoulders, exposing
her milky white body. Her breasts were small, but firm, and her small
shaved patch of black fur contrasted most attractively. She kneeled on
the bed and bent over, laying the side of her face on the fabric of the
bedspread, and pushing her ass up high. Julia smiled, she was glad Dara
remembered what she had been told. The incubus who stood in the room
would have probably been offended if Dara offered herself in any other
way. The creature removed its loincloth to reveal a huge member, about
eight inches long, and thick enough to be well proportioned.
Incubi, like most demons, are not interested in the pleasure
of their partners. They are all business. However, an incubus, when
aroused, exudes an aura of sexual pleasure in the area where it is
summoned. Incubi, after all, corrupt their victim through ecstasy, so,
they are created to succeed despite their nature.
The incubus approached Dara and pulled her upturned ass back,
impaling her twat. She gasped loudly, a gasp part shock and part
pleasure. The demon let out a low growl and humped Dara with quick
thrusts. Dara matched his pace almost immediately. With every thrust she
let out a high moan. The aura of the creature was taking effect, as
Julia found herself very turned on watching this sight. Her hand moved
down to rub her crotch through the soft fabric of the robe. Julia was
surprised that the effect of the incubus was this strong. In the next
room, a nameless junior started to have the wet dream of her life.
The incubus continued to pump Dara with strong, forceful
thrusts. Dara began to moan louder and louder, and she pushed her ass
against the demon's cock with more and more force. She clenched the
bedspread as she felt the first orgasm build, the walls of her cunt
tensed and she screamed as she came. She could still hear the incubus
behind her, growling low and deep. She continued to push up against him,
though her pussy ached from his forceful thrusts. She hissed through
clenched teeth with the impact of each thrust, her head buried deep in
Julia's pillows.
Kneeling by the circle, Julia hiked her robe above her hips with
one hand, and rubbed her cunt with the other. Watching the incubus at
work, she inserted one finger, then two, and started pumping with wild
abandon, rubbing her clit with her thumb. The aura of the demon was
stronger now, and both girls came simultaneously. Julia had never come
so hard using only her fingers. Dara, on the other hand, was completely
lost in pleasure, a world of bright lights and skyrockets. The orgasms
that started in mellow waves became crashing breakers...
The incubus let out a loud, deep growl, and gave Dara one last
thrust as he came. Dara's head wrenched up, her eyes opened wide with
pain, pleasure and fear. The demon's come was considerably hotter than
she had expected. Her scream trailed off to a low moan, and she
continued to push her hips back on his rapidly softening dick.
The demon pulled out and slowly panned the room. He looked at
Dara, still gyrating her hips as his glowing red come dripped out of her
twat. He looked at Julia, her face turned turned towards the ceiling,
her neck stretched taut, her eyes closed, as she undulated with a
rhythm all her own, her hand between her legs pumping furiously as she
came one last time.
Then, with an almost electrical crackle, and a shower of red
sparks, he was gone. Both girls collapsed, exhausted, sweating, and
heaving.
They both awoke the next morning to the bright sunlight
streaming through the window, glaring mercilessly off of the ice and
snow outside. The encounter of the night before was masked, it seemed,
now, like just a dream to both of them. The candles had burned down to
wax stubs, and thankfully had not started a fire.
Dara looked down at her crotch, groggily. The glowing cum of
the incubus had dried and faded to most repulsive pinkish color. "Ugh,"
she groaned to Julia, who was already awake, "looks a little like
Pepto..."
Julia laughed, "So how did you like it, anyway? Was it anything
like you had imagined in your paintings?" Dara got a concerned look on
her face, "I dunno... I always thought that a demon would be nasty, you
know? All fat and foul, or thin and rotting, or something like that...
I never knew they could be so damned attractive."
"Well, Dara, Incubi can appear in any form they wish on our
plane, this one just preferred that form. I think that Incubus was very
popular in ancient Greece. I found its name on some old tablets my great
grandfather tracked down. They were hidden under the tiles of a temple
to Bacchus."
Dara suddenly blushed at her nakedness. "Can I use your shower?
I really don't want to know what prolonged exposure to this... stuff can
do to a girl."
Everything seemed very surreal to Dara as she gathered her
clothes together and went into the bathroom. The effect had apparently
not worn off completely. Every nerve ending in her body tingled, and
seemed excited beyond belief. The cool feeling of the tile on her feet
sent shivers of pleasure up and down her back. She put her clothes down
on the counter and walked over to the bath tub. Julia yelled in, "Dara,
I'm going to go down to the store to pick up some cream, you need
anything?", she almost jumped at the sound. "No... No... I'm alright,"
she yelled back, a little shaken. "Alright then, I'll be back in a few."
Dara turned on the water, hot first, and ran her hand under it.
It felt so amazingly good. As she showered, she found her hands drifting
to her nipples, and then her pussy. She brought herself to three amazing
orgasms, as she explored her highly sensitive pussy with her fingers.
She finished showering, and looked for a towel. There were none
in the bathroom closet. She looked in the cabinet under the sink, there
were none there either. She headed out into the dorm room, to see if
there was any laundry in the closet. She opened the mirrored wooden door
and a box fell off of the top shelf, she sidestepped in time to avoid
being hit on the head. It hit the ground and its contents rattled
out...
"Fuck!" she exclaimed.
She bent over to pick up the objects that fell out and gasped in
surprise. "Shit," she thought, "I never knew Julia was into this type of
stuff". There, on the floor, were manacles, leg irons, and assorted
chains. She scanned the closet again, and there, hanging from the door
were three whips: a cat o' nine tails, a flagellum, and a riding crop.
"Daaaamn Julia, I really didn't know." She dug through the box. At the
bottom were some black and whites of Julia being dominated in different
positions. There was one of her shackled, spread eagled, to a wall,
fresh whip marks across her back. Another of her, shot from between her
feet, of her spread eagled on a bed, a chromed dildo sticking lewdly out
of her twat. Another of her bent over in knee high boots and fishnets,
elbows tied tightly together and her wrists chained to a hook in the
ceiling. Her legs were kept apart by a bar, and her ankles were crossed
and tied together.
Dara found herself more than a little turned on.
She replaced the objects in the box and put it back on the top
shelf. There were some black towels on the floor of the closet and she
grabbed one and quickly dried off. All the while excited. She was hoping
Julia would be up to teaching her more.
She threw on her paint stained jeans and her Sisters t-shirt and
sat on an uncomfortable orange plastic chair, and waited for Julia to
come back. She looked out the window, "Great," she whispered to herself,
"its snowing again." Without realizing, the Coil song 'the Snow' ran
its course through her head as she drifted off into the dreaming.
It was very cold. The streets were dark, and the sky a brilliant
dark purple. She was trudging through the ice. There were no cars, and
the houses looked like homes from an old British film. Was she in
England?
She was very glad that she remembered her leather jacket. She
wished that she had brought her gloves. The snow was falling lightly,
huge flakes, they glittered beautifully in the darkening twilight. There
were no street lights, no people, no lights in the houses. No signposts.
She felt like she was being watched. A dark shape darted in the
sky quickly overhead, followed by a high tittering laughter. Fear. Not
just fear but an almost paralyzing dread. She ran back the way she came,
turning and running down a small back alley. She heard the rush of huge
wings behind her as she skidded onto a patch of ice. She slid out of
control. Her head hit the ice. White dull pain, then all was mercifully
black. She came to again in a warm well dimly room. She was bending over
in the middle of a tastefully furnished room. She found herself unable
to move, her arms bound
and wrapped tightly from the upper arms to elbows. Her wrists were
shackled, and she found she couldn't move them. She was gagged. Her
knees were locked in place, by, as far as she could tell, a metal bar.
She tried her feet. They were tied, uncomfortably, together.
She scanned the room as well as her immobile body allowed. There
was a fireplace with a crackling fire. There were tasteful wooden
furnishings, comfortable looking chairs. As far as she could tell, she
was in the dead center of the room.
"Aha, bitch, I see you have awakened." It was Julia's voice,
but there was something disturbing about it. "Are you enjoying your
punishment?" She closed her eyes and thought. If the gag wasn't there
she would have said no, but, truthfully, she was very aroused. She felt
a hand caress her ass, she tried to pull away as the fingers tickled
their way down the back of her thigh. She couldn't. The fingers stopped
at the back of her knee, and the fingernails continued in their place,
back up her thigh, into her spread crotch. She tensed as two fingers
plunged into her box, she arched her head up sharply.
The fingers stayed there, and she grabbed at them with the walls
of her cunt, trying to squeeze them. The fingers began to slide in and
out slowly. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply.
"Slut!" came Julia's voice from behind, "You're wet. You're wet
and hot." The fingers pulled away and she could hear high heels clacking
quickly away on the hard wooden floor. She waited, for what seemed to be
an eternity for her to come back. She was horny. She was hot. Maybe, she
thought, I really AM a slut. The high heels clicked back in from the
distance. She felt an object slide up the back of her thigh. Something
that felt like leather.
The first blow was unexpected, and she tried to cry out from
behind the gag. The pain shot up her back from her ass, and a tear came
to her eye. The second came quickly after, welling more tears up in her
eyes. The pain was intense, and she felt red all over. The third came,
and she clenched her eyes tightly. The blows continued, and she felt
faint. The gag was ripped roughly from her mouth. She looked up at
Julia's face through a blur of tears. Julia yelled at her, "How many?"
Dara was confused. Julia brandished the riding crop for effect, "How
many times did I strike you, whore?" Dara replied, her voice cracking,
"I... don't... know..." Julia's open palm stung across her cheek. "You
will address me as mistress. Do you understand?" Dara said "Yes." The
slap came down hard again. "Yes, WHAT?"
"Yes mistress."
"Much better. Now, you will count my blows on your ass, or I
will start to whip your pussy. If you don't tell me the right number,
you will know pain."
The gag was replaced, none to gingerely, and after a moment the
whip came down again. This time Julia staggered the blows, that,
combined with the blinding pain, made counting increasingly difficult.
She lost count after nine. After a few more blows, Dara felt an orgasm
building, she arched her back more tightly after each bite of the whip.
It was a slow building orgasm, almost imperceptable at first. Each
stroke brought it just a short, faltering step closer. It was building
more and more intense. Dara wanted her hands free so she could scratch
the itch that was building. She just wanted the pain to stop and the
pleasure to continue. She thought of Julia's attitude when she had shown
she enjoyed the fingering. She was afraid of what Julia would do if she
caught her coming. She closed her eyes tightly and tried to hold back
the dam.
She lost to the feeling and came deeply with gasping breaths.
She bit down hard on her gag and clenched her nails into her palms. It
was the most intense orgasm she had ever had.
She was being gently shaken. "Dara!" it was Julia again,
"Dara!", she opened her eyes and saw Julia's face above her, and
replied, "Please, mistress, don't hurt me, I didn't mean to come, I lost
count..."

-=-= Semo (the Fetus) =-=-
-=-= [email protected] =-=-

All replies will be gratefully accepted.


 
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