The demon looked around the surroundings it suddenly found itself in. This place was not the place it came from. Gone was the abyss it dwelled in, the darkness it called its own. Instead, it found itself in a room, in what it knew to be the world of mortals. The ceiling of this room was low, and the demon had to duck its head somewhat to prevent its horns from scraping off chips of paint and plaster. The room was warm, and quiet, and soft. The walls were grey, and the floor was wooden. The demon was standing in a chalk circle drawn on this wooden floor. Candles dotted the edge of this circle. "Why have you summoned me here?" the demon asked, for indeed, it was not alone.

The other person in the room was much smaller than the demon, a mortal, no doubt. They stood straight though, long dark hair falling to the middle of their back. They wore a pointed hat, with a wide brim, and nothing else. The demon's eyes travelled down the human's body impassively. Over the pale face with its set jaw and round, dark eyes. Over the flat chest, the tense belly, the soft curls of black hair between the legs. The mortal moved, drawing a switch of hazel from behind their back, and said in a steady tone, "I summoned you here for your company."

A smirk came to the demon's face as it took in the long hazel twig, and it said, "A little witchboy then. Tell me, witchboy, what is your name?" The witchboy smiled, and said, "Witchboy will do fine. And what should I call you?"

The demon stood up as straight as the low ceiling would allow. The witchboy felt his stomach jump nervously. The demon was enormous, at least seven and a half feet tall. Its skin was black as shadow, its eyes narrow and pure white. It looked powerful, with horns like that of an immense steer, and a tail that drifted lazily through the air behind it. It stepped out of the circle, and came to stand before the witchboy, who found himself level with the bottom of its ribcage. The demon looked down at the unflinching witchboy, and said, "I have no name."

The witchboy thought for a few moments before answering, "Well then. Will you allow me to call you my lover for a time, before you go back to the place you come from?" the demon chuckled. "That is why you brought me here? You are a very brazen little mortal, witchboy." The witchboy said nothing in response, only brought up the tip of the hazel switch to lie against the place where the demon's navel would have been. A sharp, white-fanged grin spread itself across the demon's face. "Very well, little human. You may call me yours for a time, if it pleases you so." The witchboy smiled. "It does." He said.

The tip of the hazel switch began a slow journey down the demon's belly, stopping on the smooth skin between its legs. The demon shifted its weight on its immense, animalistic legs, allowing its thighs to part somewhat. It watched the witchboy with mild curiosity as he lowered the switch and put one hand in its place. The hand was warm and confident in its movements. The witchboy pressed his palm to the pitch black skin, seemingly unfazed by the lack of sex organs the demon appeared to have. He looked up into the white eyes of the demon, and with an almost expert touch, slid his middle finger into a slit between the creature's legs that was all but invisible. The demon barely reacted, only smiling wider, and said, "You've done this before." The witchboy's face was unreadable, but he said, "Not with one quite like you."

The witchboy traced circles inside the demon, who cocked its head to one side. "You have a lot going on down here, demon," the witchboy said, as he slid his finger out and brought his hand to his mouth. A milky, white fluid dripped onto the palm of his hand, and he licked it off. The demon crouched before him, and put its enormous, clawed hands on both of the witchboy's hips. "As have you, little human. Not the usual set of organs for a boy, I see." The witchboy shrugged, unabashed, a hand tracing down his own chest, where white, horizontal scars marked the place where breasts had once been. "I make do with what I have." He said. The demon traced one clawed thumb down from the witchboy's hip, to the crook of one milky thigh, and brushed the pad of it lightly over dark curls. "I have no doubt of that." the demon said, and opened its mouth to taste with a serpentine tongue.

Before it could do so, the demon felt the hazel switch against its forehead, and one small hand gripped a horn firmly. "Not yet," said the witchboy and the demon smiled quizzically. "Why don't you show yourself to me fully first? After all," the witchboy gestured to his own naked body, from which the demon could smell the scent of desire, "I have shown you all of me."

The demon thought for a moment, and then inclined its head. "Very well." It said, and stood up, though it let its tongue flick briefly against the crook of the witchboy's thigh, and saw the mortal's mouth curl slightly in a wanting smirk. The demon took a step backwards, and rolled its neck. With a cracking sound, its body changed.

A second set of white eyes winked into existence above the first. The horns lengthened, shining black, and the tail thickened. Two more arms unfolded beneath the first pair, and all four flexed. From the slit between the demon's legs, a glistening phallus extended, hard and slick, growing to rest against the demon's belly. The witchboy smiled. "Well, there you are. Aren't you quite beautiful?" the demon chuckled, a slick drop of the white, milky fluid sliding slowly down its glistening shaft. "I like you, little human." It said, "Not a trace of fear in you, and I can smell from here that you are already hot and wet with anticipation. Will you let me touch you now?"

The witchboy smiled, and pointed at the floor with his hazel switch. Blankets and cushions that had not previously been there settled themselves in an arrangement of comfort. "Sit down, won't you?" he said. The demon, shaking its head in amusement, did indeed sit on the blankets. It lifted a velvet cushion in one hand, and said, "Not often is it that I am summoned by someone so concerned with comfort." The witchboy approached, lowering the switch. "I know what I like", he said, coming to stand next to the demon. The demon's tail curled around one pale leg and its tip brushed against the dark hair between the witchboy's legs. "And what is it you like?" asked the demon, tilting its head back to look up at the witchboy. The young man smiled, his face shrouded in the shadows cast by the brim of his hat. He leaned down to the demon's face, and rested his thumb against the demon's lower lip. The serpentine tongue crept out again, and wound around the thumb, teasing. The witchboy smiled, and said, "I like making lovely creatures like you shiver, and tremble, and come apart for me. I like making sure you will never forget me. I like how you taste and how you feel. I like you."

The witchboy's mouth met the demon's then, unafraid of sharp teeth, brazenly pulling the monstrous head further back by one horn. The demon chuckled into the kiss, leaning back on the elbows of one pair of arms, while the hands of the other pair found their way back to rest on the human's hips. The tip of the demonic tail pushed gently between the young man's legs, parting soft curls, and touching the slick flesh hidden there. Similarly, the demon felt the end of the hazel switch press between its legs. The switch pressed against the underside of the slick appendage that both was and wasn't a penis, and more milky fluid dripped out and onto the black skin of the creature's belly. It hummed into the witchboy's mouth.

The young man smiled into the kiss, and pulled away. "You like being touched." It wasn't a question. The witchboy took away the switch. "Spread your legs." He said. The demon complied.

The young man stepped between the demon's legs and dropped to his knees. When he did so, his legs parted a little and the demon saw the shine of wet pink flesh in the centre of the darkness. Wetness already glistened on pale thighs. The demon licked its lips. The witchboy saw it looking and smiled. "All in good time friend," he said, and then laid the hazel switch aside and dropped to his belly between the enormous legs.

The demon watched the dark eyes as the witchboy slid his tongue up and down the black shaft, small pink mouth pausing to take in the tip an inch or two. The demon reached out to knock the hat off the young man's head, so it could grasp the surely silky hair it longed to feel. Before it could though, the warm mouth left and the witchboy sat back a little, lips quirked. "I like my hat, thank you. I think it can stay where it is for now." The demon huffed a little, a small frustration, but before it could say anything, the witchboy dropped down again, lower than before.

The young man licked at the base of the demon's shaft, at the part where its underside vanished into the wet slit. The slit was opened now, stretched slightly by the protrusion of the shaft. The inside was as pitch black as the rest of the demon's flesh, and slick with the milky fluid. Again, the witchboy slid a finger inside the demon, feeling the warm wetness drip out and down his wrist. "Who's hot and wet now?" he asked, sliding a second and third finger in to join the first. The demon actually let out a small groan, and let its head fall backwards. The witchboy felt his lower belly warm and twist with excitement. The other demons he had summoned had never made such noises for him.

The witchboy continued to slide fingers in and out of the demon, and traced his free hand up the twitching, black-skinned belly. "You like this?" he asked. The demon nodded, wordless, four white eyes mere slits. "Say that you're mine." The witchboy's dark eyes burned, and the demon moaned as a fourth finger slid within. "Aaaaah, I am yours, sweet creature." It said, "Have me and take me, I'm yours." the demon's feet were off the ground now, knees curling towards its chest in an effort to open itself up more for the young man. The very sight was too much for the witchboy. Sliding his hand free, he rose up and pressed his naked self against hot, black skin. He kissed at the sharp, angled jawline desperately, pushing sticky fingers into the sharp toothed mouth. The serpentine tongue curled around his digits again, tasting itself, and when the hand pushed, the demon went with it, lying flat on the blankets below it.

The witchboy slung a leg over the demon's torso, straddling its belly. Immediately all four clawed hands gripped his hips and thighs, and lifted him forwards, as if the demon knew exactly what he wanted. He gasped at the unexpected movement, and the gasp was cut off as he was pulled over the demon's face, and that sharp toothed mouth was pressed between his legs.

His thighs tightened involuntarily on either side of the creature's head, and he reached out to grip both of the enormous horns. That long tongue snaked inside him, and he groaned longer and louder than the demon had. He felt the demon laugh against him, and ground down against the mouth in retaliation. The demon seemed to relish it though; two hands gripped the witchboy's thighs and held him fast to that delightfully monstrous mouth. The young man looked back over his shoulder, and saw that the other pair of hands were busy too. One gripped the demon's shaft, sliding up and down at a steady speed, while the other worked two fingers in and out of the slick opening below.

The witchboy let his head loll back, rolling his hips and holding onto the two horns. "You're so beautiful," he breathed, "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." Every statement he made was answered with a muffled sound of longing that he could feel vibrating through him. "You're what I've been looking for. I want this to go on forever. I want- ah- I want you inside me."

The demon moved then, lifting the witchboy, and climbing to its feet in one fluid movement. The witchboy felt himself held aloft in the four huge hands as the demon pressed its mouth over his once again. He kissed the demon, hands holding its face, and tasted himself in its fanged mouth. The demon moved to lower him down, and then paused, and pulled away from the kiss.

"Are you sure? You are small, and I am… not." This time, it was the witchboy's turn to chuckle. He reached up and knocked the pointed hat off his own head. He smiled up at the monstrous, uncertain face, and said, "I am very sure. You can go ahead."

The four hands manoeuvred the young man down until just the very tip was pressed against an opening that the demon thought surely to be too small. It hesitated again. In that hesitation, the witchboy clasped his knees around the demon's waist, and pulled himself down onto the demon.

What the demon had thought too small turned out to be exactly the right size, and without meaning to, it dropped its head as it slid inside him, and sank sharp teeth a little way into the pale shoulder of the witchboy. The cry the witchboy made was one of several emotions, not least of all, pain. Immediately the demon pulled back, and looked down at the witchboy. A neat semi-circle of punctures were beginning to ooze droplets of red down the young man's shoulder and arm. The witchboy too was looking at these, before he looked up with one eyebrow cocked at the demon.

"I… did not mean that." said the demon. The witchboy tilted his head and said, "That's a shame. I quite liked it." the demon felt the witchboy tighten around it on purpose then and it held the young man closer with a grunt, twitching inside him. "Keep going," the witchboy murmured, grabbing one huge hand and guiding it up to hold the long, silky hair it had wanted to grip earlier.

The demon coiled a lock of the long, soft hair around its hand, and began to move, holding the young man still as it pushed deep inside him, faster, and harder , and faster, and, harder. The witchboy gripped the demon's hips with his knees. He reached out a hand and felt the long tail curl around it, holding it. His words were almost gone now, moans and broken statements falling from his lips, and drawing similar sounds from the beast that was driving itself into him again and again.

The demon felt itself coming undone, a cloud of lust rolling through its head, its attention aware of nothing but the small mortal it held in its grasp. The witchboy's insides gripped it unrelentingly, and soon, the demon fell down to its knees, its movements becoming faster and more erratic. It held the witchboy to it, listening to his voice rising in pitch and urgency, feeling how he stilled himself for the feeling that was about to roll over him. The witchboy dropped his head to the demon's chest, and whimpered, "Oh God…"

"There is no god here," said the demon, "Only you, and only me." It lowered its head and once again sank teeth into the pale skin of the young man's shoulder, as with one final thrust of its hips, it spilled itself into its human lover. The witchboy threw back his head, mouth open in a silent cry. The demon felt his inner convulsions squeeze the last of its orgasm from it, and it held the witchboy in its shaking grasp, until he too stopped trembling, and lay gasping and sweat-slick in the four, powerful arms.

The witchboy smiled lazily and opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a low moan as the demon pulled itself out of him. The milky fluid oozed out of him, but the demon bent its head and licked it away, as the young man sighed, and let it, lying supine and sapped.

The demon turned then, and lowered the witchboy to lie on the blankets and cushions. There was a moment when it saw uncertainty flash across the young man's face, but it simply said, "I'm not going anywhere," and dropped to curl up next to the young man. Gently, it began to lick the blood off the witchboy's shoulders.

"Will you allow me to call you my lover for a time," it asked, "Before I go back to the place I came from?" the witchboy chuckled and reached up to touch the monstrous face, "Very well, demon. You may call me yours for a time, if it pleases you so." The demon smiled, and lifted a hand to coil gently in the long, silky, dark hair. "It does," said the demon.