The Summoning, a weird tale of queer supernatural romance and erotic horror

Bathed in the radiant warm glow of innumerable guttering black candles, the witch Hecataea knelt at the centre of the magic summoning circle. Her black hooded robe hanging loosely about her as she worked her arcane craft, inscribing the last of the conjuration symbols upon her hardwood bedchamber floor. The young but supernaturally gifted and adept witch was otherwise naked, save for the proliferation of bracelets and bangles which adorned her wrists, the golden torque about her throat, and the rings on her fingers. All of which bore protective runes and magic sigils of great potency.

The witch put flame to the two braziers she had carefully positioned within the outer circumference of her magic circle, causing vapours to rise from the vessels above as they heated. Each brazier was contained within its own binding circle, and the whole intersecting arrangement contained within an enormous conjuration wheel. The entire design of which covered an area sufficient to enclose her bed, several large soft furs and a scattering of cushions.

As she whispered protective incantations and waited for the braziers to heat, Hecataea drank from a small wooden cup containing a dense green fluid. And putting it aside almost with reverence when she had taken sufficient, the witch began to sing the summoning song. It’s haunting and eerie occult strains causing reality to shimmer and flicker queerly, as it warped and bent with the power of the witch’s intent.

The imbibed potion began to heat Hecataea’s blood and set her heart racing, before she had even completed the first verse of the conjuration spell. Nonetheless the witch summoner focussed her will and compelled her mind to concentration, while the potion filled her body with carnal exhilaration and libidinous anticipation. The intoxicating effect combined with her warping of mundane reality, lending a glorious sensation of quickening much akin to the sensation of falling.

Although the witch had not consumed the potion for its aphrodisiac qualities, there would be no need of that. For what was about to transpire atop the highest chamber of Hecataea’s tower, was her ultimate fantasy and her long held lustful hearts desire. No, she had taken the potion for the stamina and endurance it conferred, for Hecataea wanted this to last for as long as she could bare. Indeed it was the witch’s most fervent desire to indulge her blasphemous fantasies to the fullest possible extent her mortal frame could withstand.

It had taken the witch years of dedicated study and single minded practice to perfect the summoning of demons, and longer still the safe conjuration and binding of succubi. And she did not want her first experience to be marred either by exhaustion or the base limitations of mortality. For the erotic potency and sexual prowess of succubi were legendary, and it was Hecataea’s intent that the creatures drive her to the very limits of sensual excess. She wanted more than anything she had ever desired before, to feel the full extent of the wanton magic and wicked seductions of the succubus. And it was her will that her experience ought not to be spoilt by any lack of endurance or failure of stamina.

At length a sensation of intense and urgent arousal began to rapidly inundate the witch’s body, and her voice became heavy and hoarse with carnal desire as she sang the final summoning verses. The potion was flooding swiftly through her bloodstream, and her entire being felt as though it were catching aflame with libidinous craving and urgent lustful hunger. The witch squirmed in place as she knelt on the floor, growing increasingly eager to yield to her mounting lust.

And as Hecataea completed the incantation, two forms began gradually to materialize before the now voluminously fuming braziers. The emerging entities shimmering as sunlight shimmers on a still pond, as the succubi began gradually to corporealize into mundane reality. Gaining solidity and form as they passed from the demonic realm, and into the mortal world which periodically glimmered as a mirage at their presence.

Perspiration began to form on Hecataea’s skin as the ritual rapidly progressed, the potent elixir elevating her senses to ever greater heights of insistent stimulation. And the queer warping of reality as she created a separate dimension removed entirely from both the demonic and mortal realm, lent an even greater thrill of vertiginous exhilaration to her heart.

Hecataea knew that it would take her several days to recover from what she had in mind for these creatures. But she wanted this, she hungered for it and her heart sang with excitement and yearning at the prospect of knowing the fulfilment of her sinful dreams. Ever since she had learned the proper methods of demonic binding and seduction, she had longed for the forbidden thrill of demon flesh. And the witch summoner had been mindful to keep an assortment of restorative elixirs and curative potions and salves to hand, for the wanton carnality of mating with succubi was known to be a savage experience.

It was so sinful and so wicked, but she would no longer suffer the denial of her blasphemous longings. Hecataea yearned with all her heart to finally sate her hidden desires, and at last fulfil her sacrilegious fantasies. Others scorned and eschewed the companionship of succubi but Hecataea craved it profoundly, indeed she hungered earnestly for the pleasures that they alone could bestow.

Summoners of demon kind were often sorely disappointed, when they learned the truth of those queer creatures known as succubi when revealed in their true form. For although they could deceive the unschooled mind with their beguiling enchantments, there was not a summoner alive who did not see the demons as they truly were.

For although they were indeed as shapely and as perfect in their female form as any might imagine, succubi were creatures who preyed upon both women and men alike. And were endowed in full measure with all the necessary physical attributes, to bring either male or female to unimagined heights of ecstasy, no matter what their inclination.

And it was for this that the succubi were cast as malevolent and evil in nature, for their endowments were to most minds considered perverse and repulsive. But this was not the case to Hecataea’s perceptions, for the witch summoner viewed succubi as the very apex of creation. To her mind it was humanity which was the perversion, a species cruelly torn asunder into male and female, created broken and incomplete.

Indeed those attributes which inspired revulsion in others, inspired deep and abiding fascination, and ravenous hunger in her. For she imagined humanity rendered in perfection and without division, free of men with their weak minds and pitifully limp fathers limbs. A species of nought but women, but women endowed with both womb and lover’s rod as well.

And now at last she would fulfil her wildest fantasies, finally Hecataea would know the perfection of form she had always dreamt of. But the witch’s ambitions were not purely carnal in nature, for she looked to the demon succubus with a covetous and acquisitive eye. For she had discovered hidden deep in the pages of forbidden and arcane esoterica, hints that the boon of the succubi might be rendered even unto humankind. And it was her paramount desire to discover the truth of these assertions, and also the means by which such a heavenly and perfect blessing might be acquired.

But Hecataea put these thoughts from her mind, and gave herself entirely to the more immediate perils of treating with creatures, for who human souls were their very meat and sustenance. And at last the incantation was sung to completion, and the creatures began rapidly to take form in the elsewhere realm she had created. Both were essentially humanoid in form and feature, though bearing long tails and great horns which swept back from their temples. And curiously elongated and pointed impish ears, and eyes as black as pitch through and through.

Both were as impossibly desirable in the flesh, as Hecataea had rendered them in her bedtime fantasies and onanistic imaginings. And far more beautiful than any she had but fleetingly summoned before. Their breasts were so full and perfect, and their hips so shapely and broad. Their flesh so pale and iridescent, their hair so vibrant and lustrous. Phantoms of deepest darkest fantasy made flesh and rendered into reality, their members so obviously aroused and ready for their summoner.

One was rather small in stature but full of figure nonetheless, gorgeously curvaceous and eminently endowed with all those attributes which thrilled and entranced the witch. The other was a magnificent creature indeed, tall and gorgeously incarnated, with broad hips and solid powerful limbs. Each of them were impossibly arousing in form and succulent to the eye, and Hecataea’s heart thrilled at the prospect of coupling with the entities.

Their very presence naturally inspired excitement and arousal, this was their magic, their glamour at work. And in addition to the invigorating properties of her potion, Hecataea’s desires were becoming insistent indeed.

At length, one of the two spoke, her voice as beguiling and as sweet and lyrical as birdsong at dawn. And as magical and enchanting as the sweetest angelic voice which ever sang in glorious exaltation.

“Who is it that summons us from the demonic realm…?”

“….who is it that summons us from our delicious hell?”

Hecataea took a deep breath and calmed her thrilling nerves as best she could, concentrated her will on the task in hand. Treating with demons was potentially a path fraught with peril, she couldn’t afford to lose her head, not at this stage at least.

“A witch who knows that she must keep her name to herself….” Hecataea replied.

“….until she has learned those of the demons she has summoned.”

“Very good” the entity chuckled, recognizing the witch’s intelligence as well as her delightfully reckless determination “my name is Zorah”

“And you?” The witch looked to the other demon.

“My name is Hazebaal” the magnificent being supplied

“We are compelled into your world by various means” Hazebaal continued “by the yearning of a lonely soul, by the desperate pleas of a bereft and broken heart. But very seldom are we intentionally called, and even more seldom still by any summoner or witch.”

“Summoners turn their noses up at demons such as us, what business have you with the succubi?” Zorah added.

“Is it that the features that repel others so intrigue you that you crave our affection, do you mean to be with us witch? Do you desire to know our flesh?”

“Perhaps” Hecataea replied as coolly as she could “I am by no means a prudish zealot, and would not reject your advances should they be made, but I have summoned you because there are secrets I would learn, and mysteries I would have revealed.”

Demonic control was a difficult task at the best of times, and with arousal driving her to distraction Hecataea struggled to maintain dominance. She wanted these creatures with every fibre of her being, and the urge to throw herself at their mercy was overwhelming. To submit to their intoxicating ethereal glamour, and let them take her unprotected in whatever devilish means they wished. To know the delicious degradation and gorgeous debasement of their fierce demonic lust.

The demon named Zorah fixed the witch with a tempting and seductive eye, as she spoke in her sweet and innocent tone.

“Perhaps if you were to please us, to fulfil our wanton desires, we might be persuaded to share something of our magic.”

“Perhaps you might” Hecataea continued “and perhaps you might not. Perhaps you might set upon me should my incantations fail, tear my very soul to shreds and greedily consume it as the wolf gobbles up the lost lamb.”

If she was to extract from one of these demons that which she desired, it would take fortitude, patience and cunning. Hecataea sought to test the integrity of her magic circles and the strength of her binding, before she would fully release the creatures.

“Perhaps I might be persuaded to offer the knowledge of my flesh and the treasure of my sex in exchange for certain boons. But perhaps I am not yet at the apex of my desires” the witch blatantly lied “perhaps you will play with each other for a while, to help whet my appetite a little. Then I might be better able to win you favour.”

“She wishes us to perform for her” Zorah who sensed the witch’s trepidation, giggled wickedly as she turned to Hazebaal.

“Then let’s not disappoint the witch….”  Hazebaal replied.

 

This is an excerpt from a work in progress titled

The Summoning

Thank you for reading

Whippoorwill

 

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