Clay was terrified out of his mind. He could feel the weight and the heat of Briar’s body pushed up against his back.

He could only brace his arms against the wall. He struggled a bit but Briar was too strong. He couldn’t make the man budge. Not in the slightest. Not even a fraction of an inch.

Clay groaned. It hurt. A lot. Briar wasn’t being gentle at all—not that he had any reason to be. "P-please," he whined under his breath. "D-don’t hurt me."

Briar’s low chuckle sent a shiver down Clay’s spine. There was no mirth in his voice, only dark amusement and a particular sort of contempt.

"Why shouldn’t I?" said Briar, the heat of his breath making the back of Clay’s neck tingle. "After all, I was having a fairly decent day minding my own business and then you had the gall to interrupt it with your inane summoning."

"I-I’m sorry," Clay whined, wheezing as the pressure on his back continued to build.

"And what was it all for, hm?" said Briar, nipping at the nape of Clay’s neck. "Why go through all this trouble?"

"R-revenge!" Clay panted. Every fiber of his being was screaming danger at him. If he told the truth, that he was trying to summon a familiar to help him cheat in his exams, he feared his life would be in danger.

Briar laughed. It was an acrid, sardonic sound. "You’re a half-decent warlock, little morsel. But you are an awful liar."

Clay’s eyes watered. Briar pushed harder on his back. His chest was being crushed. He could barely breathe, much less speak. "O-okay. Okay. Please. I’m sorry! I just wanted some help on my finals!"

"Finals?" Briar sounded incredulous. "You humans never fail to amaze. Meddling with dark forces far beyond your ken without regard for the consequences, all in the pursuit of an answer to trivialities."

"I-I’m sorry…" Clay whimpered. He knew his pleas weren’t reaching Briar’s ears at all but he was powerless to do anything.

"The single stupidest thing you could have done, little morsel, is to study the Art without a proper mentor," Briar growled.

Despite himself, Clay couldn’t help but feel a frisson of arousal as the low rumble of Briar’s voice reached his ears. He was in mortal peril and yet, somehow he was aroused.

"You might not know it but you have talent. The kind that comes about once in a century," said Briar. "Which is a shame. With the right teacher, you could have grown to be one of the greatest warlocks the continent has ever seen."

Stars swam in Clay’s vision as Briar shoved him even harder against the wall. His life flashed before his eyes. The good and the bad.

He’d always thought the stories of people seeing their lives in the moments before their death were bullshit. He was convinced now.

He didn’t want to die. Not like this. Not so young. Not with a boyfriend that loved him. Not rock-hard because the aggression was turning him on for some godforsaken reason.

But he was starting to get light-headed. He couldn’t take more than shallow breaths. The edges of his vision were turning dark.

There were so many things Clay wanted to do—to experience. And now, because of a summoning gone wrong, he would never get the chance.

It was unfair. Infuriatingly so. But life was fundamentally unfair. He only wished he could have seen Tom one more time, to tell the man how much he’d meant to him. "I-I’m sorry, Tom…" he whined weakly as he felt the strength leaching from his limbs.

And then, just at the moment he felt the life slipping out of him, Briar let up just enough to give him air. Clay trembled as he sucked in lungfuls of air, tears streaming down his face.

"Your story very nearly came to an end today, little morsel," said Briar as he traced his fingers down the side of Clay’s body.

He rested his hand on Clay’s hip and chuckled. "You could very well have ended up little more than a dripping red smear on your wall. Or perhaps you’d be a slowly digesting lump in a disgusting, gluttonous fuckwit’s stomach."

A pitiful whimper spilled from Clay’s lips as Briar’s other hand pressed into the space between his shoulders again. Fear and arousal churned in the pit of his stomach, a confusing mix that sent his mind whirling.

He could tell Briar wasn’t lying. He knew he could very well have died the moment he stupidly broke the magic circle. He was glad he was still alive but that didn’t mean he was out of danger—not in the slightest.

If anything, Clay felt like Briar was just toying with him. He was prey. There was no doubt about that. "A-are you going to kill me?" he stammered.

Briar chuckled. This time, he sounded genuinely amused. "Stupid little morsel," he growled as he dragged his tongue along the curve of Clay’s neck. "I could. If that’s what you want."

Clay whined. The pressure on his back built and built with no signs of stopping. He could feel his ribs creak, agony shooting through his chest.

And then, without warning, Briar let up. He nipped at the sensitive skin of Clay’s shoulder. "You are lucky killing isn’t my style."

Somehow, hearing that Briar wasn’t going to kill him did nothing to allay the terror that gripped Clay’s heart. He was glad he wasn’t going to die but he had to wonder how long he would stay that way.

He’d never given it much thought but there were things worse than death. He could imagine being trapped alone in a tiny room for the rest of eternity, for one thing.

"You know, it’s not every day that I come across a novice with the mojo to summon a Prince of Hell," said Briar.

Clay shivered. His worst fears had just been confirmed. He’d hoped his intuition was wrong but he’d been right all along. Briar was a demon and, from the sounds of it at least, quite a powerful one at that.

Briar’s fingers dug into the meat of Clay’s hip. "You should thank whatever god you believe in that I was the one to answer your call. This would not be so pleasant an experience for you otherwise."

"W-what will you do to me if you’re not going to k-kill me?"

Briar laughed. "You seriously still haven’t figured out what I am, huh?" he said with a little smirk.

Clay couldn’t help but bristle. The fear of death was beginning to fade but not the sensation of being toyed with.

It was as if he was a piece of meat and Briar was a lion, just batting him around with its paw. There was a small part of him that was turned on by the idea but he didn’t really appreciate the way it made him feel.

Briar chuckled. "Never you mind that. You’ll know soon enough." He leaned forward so he could speak right next to Clay’s ear. The heat of his breath made the skin on the side of Clay’s neck tingle. "I won’t kill you. I’ll teach you an important lesson instead."

Clay gulped. Somehow, he didn’t think it would be as simple as that. He groaned as Briar’s grip on his hip tightened. "A-a lesson?" he managed through gritted teeth.

Briar hummed. "Mhm. An important lesson you would have learned long ago, had you had a proper mentor. A lesson in not messing with powers and rituals beyond your ken."

Clay shivered. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the form the "lesson" Briar was proposing would take.

"Ah, you need not be so worried, little morsel," Briar said in a low voice that sent a chill down Clay’s spine. "It won’t hurt. Much."

Briar pressed his lips to the sensitive patch of skin behind Clay’s ear. He was smirking. Clay could tell.

"And as I have ever been known for my magnanimity, I’ll even throw in a bonus lesson for you."

Clay gulped again. "W-what lesson is that?" he whispered.

"A lesson about respect."

Clay shivered at the wet heat of Briar’s tongue dragging along the back of his neck. "Respect?" he whispered.

"Mhm." Briar hummed to himself as he nipped at the nape of Clay’s neck. He wasn’t gentle at all, his teeth biting into Clay’s skin with nearly enough force to draw blood. "And the proper place of a stupid little human in the true hierarchy of powers."

Clay gulped. "W-what place?"

"You’ll see," said Briar. "Trust me. You will be much happier once you know where you belong. Think of it as a reward for your talents."

It was almost laughable, a demon asking Clay to trust him. Whatever "reward" Briar was planning, he didn’t think it would be a pleasant one for him.

"And you can think of it as a punishment too," said Briar. "For the temerity to try and turn a Prince of Hell into a familiar. For the unmitigated gall to interrupt my day."

Clay froze as he felt an invisible force tearing at his clothes. Like a hundred unseen claws, they shredded every scrap of fabric that hung on his body, leaving them in a tattered pile around his feet.

The air felt preternaturally warm on his skin. It made him tingle all over. And all of a sudden he was acutely aware of the massive erection pressed up against him from behind.

"W-what are you doing?" he managed through the shock, his eyes wide with disbelief at the turn the evening had taken.

"Teaching you a lesson," said Briar, no small amount of vicious amusement in his voice. "You see, all the trappings of this modern world of yours have somehow convinced you humans that you stand higher on the totem pole than you really do."

The hand that had been pushing down on Clay’s back moved down along the curve of his spine. Now, Briar was holding him by both of his hips. He’d suspected Briar’s intentions already but now he had no doubts.

"S-stop. Please. I-I have…"

"What? A boyfriend? You think that matters?" said Briar. He chuckled. It was a low, menacing sound—one that sent a tremor through Clay’s body.

Clay whined as he felt a trickle of something hot and slick slip between his cheeks. Pre-cum, he imagined. And lots of it.

Arousal coiled in the pit of his stomach. His cock strained, now freed from the confines of his pants. It was dirty. It was filthy. It was wrong. He had a man he loved more than anything in the world and yet his body betrayed him.

Briar laughed. The rich, dark timbre of his voice made Clay’s body burn with lust. "Stupid little morsel. Love? Faithfulness? Loyalty? Farces, all of them. Made-up words for made-up feelings."

Clay’s back arched. He felt Briar’s cock sliding up and down between his ass cheeks. He could feel the heat of it. The hardness.

"Illusions wrought by human hands to hide the nature of the beast that dwells beneath," Briar growled, his voice low and gravelly, sending a frisson of pleasure through Clay’s body.

"A wretched, pathetic, misguided attempt to seem more than you are."

Clay’s eyes widened. He felt the blunt head of Briar’s cock at his hole. It throbbed and pulsed, spurting a hot, slick pre-cum into him that made his insides tingle.

"Do you know the truth?" said Briar, his fingertips digging into the meat of Clay’s hips as he forced his cock into him. "Your kind are beasts. You bind yourself with rules and conventions in a failed attempt to appear righteous and civilized but you know, deep down, what you are."

Clay gasped as the head of Briar’s cock popped inside him. It was big. Bigger than Tom. And so, so hot.

"You are cattle," said Briar.

The low, sultry tone of the demon’s voice sent a shiver down Clay’s spine.

Briar laughed. He pushed his hips forward, forcing even more of his cock inside Clay. "You fancy yourselves lions but you are sheep. You exist to serve your betters. To feed their appetites. You are not the top of the food chain. You are the bottom."

"P-please, stop!" Clay cried as his asshole stretched wide around the formidable girth of Briar’s cock. It burned like nothing else, certainly not like he’d ever experienced with Tom.

Even though Tom was pretty well-hung, he was nothing compared to Briar. Clay felt as if it was an arm in his ass, not a cock.

Clay nearly screamed when Briar snapped his hips forward. He slammed the entire considerable length of his cock into Clay’s guts with neither mercy nor warning.

The agony of it stole the breath from Clay’s lungs but the pleasure of getting his prostate crushed by the demon’s endowment washed over his traitorous body and made his cock throb. He arched his back, his toes curling against the floor and his fingers clawing helplessly at the wall.

He felt as if he was going to tear in half. Briar was so big. He was so full. His hole fluttered weakly around the girth of Briar’s cock, squeezing down in a vain attempt to return to its usual shape.

"This is the truth of your existence," growled Briar as he tightened his grip on Clay’s hips and ground his cock deeper into him. "Your kind are beasts. Cattle. Toys for the enjoyment of your betters."

Clay groaned, sweat trickling down the sides of his face. He could feel the head of Briar’s cock pushing up against his belly from the inside.

He was almost afraid to look down but he did anyway. There was an evident lump just under his navel. It twitched and throbbed, exactly in tandem with the pulsing of Briar’s cock inside him.

"That’s all you are, little morsel. A hole. That’s all you’ll ever be," said Briar as he licked the space where Clay’s neck joined his shoulder. "All those silly little hopes and dreams in that pretty head of yours are inconsequential. This is where you belong, satisfying the appetites of a superior being."

"N-no," Clay grunted, mustering what little willpower he had left to mount a resistance to Briar’s words. He couldn’t accept that. He wouldn’t.

He was a human being. He had goals. Aspirations. He was an entire person, not a beast that was slave to impulse and pleasure.

"Yes," Briar hissed, his nails digging into Clay’s skin with almost enough force to draw blood. He rolled his hips, plunging his cock in and out of Clay’s hole with impunity to punctuate his point.

Clay resisted at first. He clenched his hole with all his might, his insides trying to squeeze the heat of Briar’s hardness out of him.

Moments were all that Clay’s efforts bought. Briar was too strong, his cock simply too powerful to withstand for too long.

The pain of resisting was too much. And besides, it did barely anything to slow Briar down anyway. The slick, hot pre-cum leaking from the tip of the demon’s cock made sure Clay’s insides were nice and slippery.

There was something in that pre-cum that made Clay’s hole tingle. It filled him with heat that welled in his belly.

He leaned his forehead against the wall. The warmth was spreading. He could feel it in his chest, in his lungs. It turned every breath searing hot as his whole body flushed.

Despite himself, he couldn’t help but moan. His hole gave, yielding to Briar’s cock. He did his best to fight the urge but he couldn’t help himself. He rocked his hips against Briar’s thrusts, inviting that fat demon cock deeper inside him.

The pain was still there but it was mixed into the pleasure, giving it an edge unlike anything Clay had ever experienced before. He threw his head back and moaned, back arching as Briar’s rut slammed into his prostate over and over again.

Clay gasped for breath, moaning and mewling and pleading incoherently as Briar cored him out. It was wrong. It was so wrong. He wanted Briar to stop but at the same time, he didn’t want it to ever end.

Two voices were at war inside Clay: the one that wanted him to stay loyal to Tom and fight Briar with all his might and the one that wanted him to give in to the all-consuming pleasure that Briar’s cock was giving him. It was tearing him apart and little by little, he felt something inside him crack.

"That’s it, little morsel. You can feel it, can’t you? The façade beginning to crumble. The lie beginning to unravel…"

Clay whined as one of Briar’s hands moved from his hip to cup his belly. It massaged the bulge that formed every time Briar thrust inside him, rubbing over the spot, sending thrills of pleasure up Clay’s spine.

Briar nipped at the sensitive spot between Clay’s neck and shoulder. "This is your truth. This is your purpose. Nothing more. You can feel the truth of it. Just focus on how I feel inside you. On how perfectly your sweet little cunt fits my cock."

It was an utter absurdity. There was no way Briar’s cock fit perfectly inside of him. The anatomy was incompatible. He knew this to be true. If it was, then his belly shouldn’t be bulging out every time Briar slammed into him.

And yet, somehow, a part of him couldn’t help but agree. A little voice inside of him told him Briar was right. If his anatomy was incompatible, it wasn’t because Briar’s cock was wrong. It was because his very anatomy was. Briar was just setting him right, rearranging his guts so they could be right, so they could fit Briar’s cock like they were always meant to.

The realization broke Clay. He whined softly, mewling like a whore as he bucked his ass on Briar’s cock. It was so good he could scarcely help himself.

Part of him wanted to cling to his dignity. To his faithfulness. But the pleasure was simply too much to deny.

As much as he wanted to deny what Briar had said, the way he was acting was proof of the words. He might not have been able to escape but he could have done nothing, at least.

Clay had wanted to show that humans were more than just animals given to instinct but the way he was bucking his hips and moaning shamelessly as he fucked himself on a cock that wasn’t his boyfriend’s proved otherwise. This was his place. This was his purpose.

"Yes. That’s it, little morsel. Give in to nature. Give in to temptation."

Briar had stopped thrusting and Clay hadn’t even noticed. He fucked himself on Briar’s cock like a wanton whore. He moaned and whined, thoughts of Tom cast to the wayside, overcome by the pleasure.

Clay gasped as Briar grabbed him by the neck and forced him to arch his back. The hand on his hip tightened as the demon growled low against his shoulder.

Stars swam in his vision as Briar fucked him with renewed vigor, that fat demon cock plunging in and out of his sloppy, abused asshole with impunity.

All Clay could do was take it and moan. The sharp pain of Briar’s fingernails digging into his hips and the sides of his neck gave the pleasure an exquisite edge.

The heat in his belly grew as he felt Briar’s molten-hot pre-cum gushing into him. "Oh fuck," he moaned as Briar’s pendulous balls pulled tight against the demon’s body and slapped against his ass cheeks.

"What’s that, little morsel? Do you want something?" Briar snarled, biting hard enough on Clay’s shoulder it was sure to leave a mark.

"C-come inside me…" Clay whispered weakly.

Briar redoubled the strength of his thrusts. He slammed his cock home again and again and again. "What was that, little morsel? I don’t think I heard you clearly the first time."

"Come inside me!" said Clay. "Please! I-I need it! Breed me! Use me like the hole I am! Please!"

The words spilled out of Clay before he could stop them. He hadn’t meant to say so much but Briar had short-circuited the part of him that would have managed that sort of restraint.

"Good. Good…" Briar purred as he licked the bite. "You understand that if I come inside you, that makes you mine?"

Clay nodded. His whole body screamed for what Briar could give him. He didn’t know it was something he needed but every fiber of his being craved to feel the sensation of hot demon cum splashing his guts and changing him forever.

A madness had gripped him. A compulsion. An obsession. Briar’s cock had awakened something inside him, something terrifying and unspeakable but something he couldn’t deny.

He was willing to do anything for Briar’s seed. Everything.

"Good little morsel," growled Briar before slamming Clay hard against the wall. If his rut had been incredible before, it was breathtaking now.

Clay could scarcely breathe from the force of the thrusts. He felt as if his skull rattled with every slap of Briar’s hips against his ass. And yet…

"More!" he croaked, the words choked in his throat by the hand tightening around his neck. "Harder!"

Briar obliged the demands. He rutted against Clay, fucking so hard Clay could barely think between the thrusts.

In and out. In and out. With every slap of skin against skin, Clay sank deeper and deeper into the madness and the ecstasy of it. He moaned. "Briar! Please! Breed me!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Here you go, little morsel," growled Briar as he delivered a handful of particularly powerful thrusts. "What you wanted."

Clay screamed when hot cum flooded his insides. He could feel it searing his guts, swelling his stomach. He panted and moaned, every breath a lungful of hellfire as agony and pleasure coursed through his veins and turned his world white.

---

Clay flitted in and out of consciousness. How long he spent in that blissed-out fugue, he wasn’t sure.

He remembered fragments. Blurry moments. Briar had fucked him against nearly every surface in his apartment, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake as the demon claimed him.

He came to in the middle of the sigil on the floor. He was on his back, his legs spread, his feet planted on the floor.

Looking down, he saw the mound of his swollen belly. There was a gurgling in his guts, an uncomfortable pressure that made him groan as he rubbed a hand over his stomach.

Clay took a deep, shuddering breath and whined. "Fuck…" he groaned as he rolled over onto his hands and knees, clutching his bloated stomach.

He made an attempt to look around and take stock of the damage done to his demesne but the molten heat inside him and the insistent throbbing between his legs made it difficult to think straight. It didn’t help that he could feel how wide his asshole was gaping, the cool air tickling his insides.

He groaned as he shifted his knees apart, arching his back. He bore down with his guts, clenching as much as he could in an attempt to squeeze out what Briar had left inside him.

Success was limited. A wet, burbling fart escaped his ruined ass, spraying the floor with some small amount of Briar’s copious seed. It immediately filled the air with a thick, smoky musk that made Clay’s head swim.

However much he tried, he made no more progress. The seed stayed firmly inside him, slowly soaking into the meat of his body.

He didn’t know the first thing about the effects of demon cum absorption but he could only imagine it wasn’t going to be good. He pulled his knees back together and leaned back to sit on his feet with a heavy sigh.

Forcing his way through the arousal that clouded his thoughts, he looked around. The apartment was in shambles. There was cum everywhere. On the floor. On the walls. On the desk. Even the ceiling wasn’t spared.

He buried his face in his hands, cheeks burning with shame and no small amount of self-loathing.

He might have been powerless to resist Briar but he’d still participated enthusiastically in his own debasement. He only remembered blurry snippets of what he’d said and done after Briar bred him the first time but some truly filthy things had spilled out of him. In every way that mattered—to him, anyway—he’d effectively cheated on Tom.

A decent man might have confessed to his boyfriend but if the night had revealed anything about Clay, it was that he was far from a decent person.

"What?" he said to no one in particular, no small amount of scorn in his voice, "Am I supposed to say, ‘Sorry I cheated on you, babe. But the demon was too strong. His dick was so big. I couldn’t fight him off’?"

He shook his head. No. No. Tom would think he was crazy. Or worse, Tom might think he was trying to make an excuse for why the infidelity was alright.

It would be better if he just buried the evening’s events and never said a word. No one would believe him, anyway.

He would just have to make it up to Tom. He didn’t know how, exactly, but he would figure it out. He had to. He didn’t know how he would live with the guilt, otherwise.

"Fuck," he muttered. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that his laptop was covered in a thick layer of jizz.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, what little he could see of the screen was cracked. It was opened far past the point it was designed to. The keys were depressed and stuck that way in the distinct impression of a pair of buttocks—Clay’s, most likely.

The long and short of it was that the laptop was ruined. Just as badly as any hope Clay might have had at doing well on his finals.

He would have been better off not going on the internet trying to find an easy way out. He only had himself to blame for looking for a shortcut.

Clay staggered to his feet, holding an arm out to steady himself as his swollen belly wobbled. He cradled the heft of it with his arm and waddled over to the bed.

No matter how he cut it, he’d fucked himself. To say that the ritual had been a disaster was putting it kindly. In trying to get a leg up on the test, he ended up putting himself in a worse spot than he had been when he started.

Clay sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed. The frame creaked dangerously, resurfacing a memory of his raw-throated cries as Briar tried to smash him through the mattress.

He fell back with a groan. He had no idea what to do.

---

It was judgment day.

If he had his way, Clay would have stayed in bed until the storm blew over. Unfortunately, he had a conscience.

His future was in the balance and it wasn’t just about him anymore. Tom had been taking care of him this whole time and if he was to repay his debt of gratitude, he had to graduate and get a good job.

Clay leaned against the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. The past few days had been stressful. He’d doubled down on his studying and was about as ready as he could be for the exam.

There was no sign of Briar but the peace was more unsettling than it was comforting. He straightened up and grabbed the hem of his shirt, tugging it up to show his stomach.

His night with Briar had changed his body somehow. He didn’t know the extent and was too wary of internet magic now to try and find a spell that would let him discern that information.

It wasn’t that Clay was unhappy with the changes. He’d gained some more muscle mass, some more definition. He wasn’t anywhere near as muscular as Tom or Briar but he liked the way the extra muscle looked on him.

His ass was bigger too, his cock, a bit plumper, and his balls, heftier than before. All in all, Briar had fucked him into better shape than he’d ever been.

The changes inflicted on him hadn’t stopped with his body either. Briar had rewired his brain somehow, too. He was hornier than he’d ever been in his life.

Even the slightest recollection of his night with the demon sent shivers of pleasure coursing through Clay’s body. It was an entirely involuntary reflex, his cock stiffening before he could even react.

How he’d managed to get any studying done with the constant distraction in his pants was entirely beyond him. Maybe it was the stakes. Maybe it was sheer determination. He didn’t know.

But the haze of horniness that clouded his thoughts these days wasn’t really the main problem. His biggest concern was what else Briar had left behind. It peeked out past the waistband of his pants, a heart-shaped mark. It was like a tattoo in the "tribal" style, all intricate and sharp.

The mark came right up to just under his navel. The heart’s tip just about touched the base of his cock, too.

Clay had no idea what the significance of the mark was but in the back of his mind, he had his suspicions. He was worried it meant he’d be seeing Briar again, and probably sooner than he expected.