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DESCRIPTIONWhen a magic ritual goes wrong, meek Jeffrey Corven is possessed by an unstoppable sex demon. Feeding on human lust and looking for a devilishly good time, the demon sets out to seduce every woman in Jeffrey's life. Powerless to resist Jeff's hellish mind control, they are filled with only one desire: Total submission to his lust!EXCERPT"Y-yes," said Patricia. Why had she said yes? She was going to call security. Wasn't she going to call security?"Mmm," said Jeff. "Tell me, what were your breasts like before your cosmetic surgery? Not A cups, surely. Were you not pleased with the Bs?""I...I...""I'd like to see them," said Jeff. "Back in those dark ages of ours women used bustiers, but of course that illusion dropped once the clothes did. Do they make you feel powerful, Patricia?""Yes," she panted, reaching up to unbutton her blouse."Very good," he said. "From the dawn of mankind to its very end, the breast will forever be the bane and blessing of the male existence. But of course you're not just in it for the men, are you, Patty?""I..." How did he know?"You don't like admitting your taste in women? It's part of who you are."Her whole life she had suppressed that part of herself, that part that felt attraction for women as well as men. She thought it was weakness, but all of her sexual fantasies involved women, despite her professional desire for a strong, dominant man. As she unbuttoned her blouse, she questioned again why she allowed this madness to continue. She couldn't help herself. Just staring into Jeff's bright - and were they golden? - eyes made her lose all sense of propriety. Nervously, she glanced out the window that overlooked the entire office through half-slitted blinds."They...they'll see," she said."Indeed?" He gave the window a cursory glance. "I'm sure they're much too busy spending the company dime. But if you'd like an audience, why don't we ask Miss Jacobs to join us?"The muscles in Patricia's arms seized up. Jasmine Jacobs was her secretary, a petite Puerto Rican girl in her early twenties. Many was the night Patricia had fantasized about grabbing the girl by her black ponytail and kissing her fulsome lips. "Jasmine?" she sputtered."Oh yes," said Jeff. He cracked the door and gently called, "Miss Jacobs? Your superior would like to see you, please."Gathering a pen and a legal pad, Jasmine hurried from behind her desk and slid deftly through the open door. She squeaked when she saw Patricia and dropped the pen and pad on the carpet.Patricia had cast her blouse and coat aside and was standing behind her desk in her lacy black bra. She had a generous bust, and her round breasts squeezed together like overripe melons. "Ms. Cunningham!" Jasmine gasped. "W-what is the meaning of this?""The meaning is secondary to the purpose," said Jeff, closing the door behind her. "And the purpose, is to get it on." He gently massaged the girl's shoulders. "Can you help Patricia with her bra, dear? It looks very tight."Jasmine felt his words enter her like secret, forceful fingers. She staggered at the sudden heat that brushed her thighs. "Ahhh," she gasped. "I...I will if...if that's what Ms. Cunningham wants."Jeff patted her bottom to get her moving toward the desk. "Pat? Were you aware that your secretary is a lesbian?"
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Seduced by the Sex Demon!
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© Copyright 2016, Veronica Sloan, All Rights Reserved
NOTICE: This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Disclaimer: This story contains explicit content, including graphic descriptions of wild and wacky sex. It is intended for adults only. All characters depicted are over the age of 18. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.
Author's Note: This is a work of erotic fantasy. The sexual situations depicted in this book are occasionally performed under the influence of demonic mind control. In real life, consent is never an option (demons or no demons). That's why I've written this story down, so we can enjoy being naughty together in the privacy and comfort of our minds. Thank you for partaking in my smut, and remember to bump uglies responsibly!
Cover design by Veronica Sloan. Cover Photo © Can Stock Photo Inc. / iofoto.
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Chapter 1: Summoning the Demon
Eileen squinted at the notes she'd written in her Idiot's Guide to Witchcraft and Necromancy. The words of the summoning incantation were spelled out phonetically, and when they passed her lips their harsh consonants sounded like blunt nails on a chalkboard. Jeff's reedy voice interrupted her concentration. "Honey, do we have to do this? I really like that cat..."
They'd barely started the ritual and Jeffrey Corven was already annoying his wife. She'd spent weeks convincing him that black magic was the only way to get his balls back, and yet even after her exhaustive explanations of this unholy ritual he was still whining about the stupid cat.
"I told you, Jeff. How many times did I tell you?"
Eileen was not a patient woman. She'd been divorced for less than a year when she forced Jeffrey to propose to her. He'd been reluctant (as he always was), but a solid week of mind-blowing blowjobs had finally convinced him Eileen was wife material. In fact, she was not. Eileen Masterson would never be wife material; she wanted more than a single man could ever give her, and she got what she wanted by any means necessary. In the four unhappy years since Jeff and Eileen had been married, she'd screwed three of his close friends, two of his co-workers, and his brother Alex. Most of the time she did it for favors; in Alex's case, she did it for spite.
Jeff had some inkling of these affairs, but whenever he tried to broach the subject Eileen ignored him. And when she couldn't ignore him, she distracted him by taking off her clothes. Unfortunately, Jeffrey Corven had never been strong-willed or particularly bright, and he could not have disagreed with Eileen to save his life (or in this case, his soul).
Jeffrey had the self-confidence of a welcome mat and all the ambition of a wet rug, which are both fancy ways of saying the man let the world walk all over him. One year ago, a terrible knitting accident left him with one testicle, and Eileen told him it was the last straw. She may have married him for his family's money, she may have screwed half their social circle, but she'd be damned if her husband lost what little testosterone he possessed.
"It's just...Prince Tommen and I have been through a lot," said Jeff. He was naked, sitting on their bathroom floor and encircled by a complex pentagram she'd drawn in red shampoo. His bony legs were tucked against his chest and he grimaced as Eileen struggled with his cat.
"Shut up, Jeff. Christ, you act like this wasn't your idea."
It wasn't really Jeff's idea. Jeff didn't believe in magic, but he hoped that by humoring his wife she might deliver on the sex she'd been withholding for the past month.
"The body produces enough testosterone with one testicle," he murmured.
"What?" Eileen snapped. She pulled out the carving knife and he only winced in reply. "That's what I thought."
In truth, Eileen wasn't sure she believed in magic either. Ever since she was a girl she had tried practicing the spells she'd found in the back of her grandmother's secret cookbook. She'd tried the glamours to attract men's attention, potions to make them bend to her will. She always seemed to get her way, but she never knew if it was her magic or her daily regimen of kegels that kept them around. In the case of Jeff, though, it didn't matter if the magic was real. The ritual was intended to motivate her neutered husband, to give him the psychological chutzpah to finally ask his boss for a raise. If he accomplished that much, she'd be satisfied.
Eileen finished the ugly-sounding incantation and squeezed the cat. It let out an angry yowl. "It's time now, Jeff. Are you ready to be a man?"
Jeff dipped his finger in the viscous shampoo. "Uh, I guess..."
"Christ," Eileen swore again, and stabbed with the knife.
The cat was quicker. Prince Tommen hissed and batted the edge aside. It sliced into Eileen's hand and she shrieked. The cat yowled in triumph and scampered into their bedroom and under their bed. At the sight of the blood oozing from Eileen's hand, Jeff screamed. He screamed again when Eileen pushed him back into the gooey pentagram, spraying his face with her blood. "Get back in the circle, idiot!"
"B-but, Eileen! It's all over me!" Jeff fought desperately to hold back the bile bubbling up his esophagus. He wiped at the blood on his face, smearing it into his eyes until it stung like acid. "Honey, can you get me a wet cloth?"
Eileen clamped her hand over her wound. "Ugh! Where's the First Aid kit?"
"I don't know!" cried Jeff. His eyes burned but he dared not leave the circle. He didn't want her to yell at him again. "Could you get me a towel first? Please? Or a tissue? Honey?" He heard her bare feet padding away.
Jeff reached out for Eileen, touched only air, and let his palm slide back to the kitchen tiles. He smeared the shampoo pentagram. "God..." he groaned.
"Mmm, quite the opposite," boomed a deep and regal voice.
Blind, Jeff twisted in place. "Who said that?"
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