Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Chawzet
   by Nysidra
   This story contains explicit sexual descriptions.
   Occult Fantasy (MF, magic, tease, netherworld)
   <->
   Silvia's friendship with Annabelle had always been strange.  Ten years
and Silvia barely questioned her friend's eccentricity.
   Annabelle called at eleven in the evening.  "Get to my house.  I need
your blood."
   The line went dead.
   Silvia turned off her movie, grabbed her keys, and stepped into a pair
of yoga pants and flats.  Annabelle rarely had guests, and even if she did,
Silvia was not getting any more dressed than she had to.
   While Annabelle seemed to do well with her occult 'hobby', Silvia did
take the occasion to worry after her.  Her mind seemed to warp a little
more each year.
   One thing was for sure, with Annabelle as a friend, Silvia was never
bored.
   Silvia parked and walked to the side door.  Whenever Annabelle summoned
her, she left it open.
   Her friend looked frazzled.  Frizzy blond hair in disarray.  Worn, baggy
shirt, mismatched pair of socks snowflakes and flat black.  "Good, you made
it.  Get over here."
   "What do you need my blood for, and how much?" Silvia followed Annabelle
into her work room.  The windows were shuttered from the inside, the lights
were all custom LEDs.  She had them on white.
   There were a series of drawings on a false floor.  It was a drawing
board that outlined Annabelle's ritual space.  The drawings were
fascinating - more for the fact that each symbol looked like an elaborate
work of art.
   Annabelle closed the door and turned two dead bolts.
   Silvia frowned.  "I should be on the other side first."
   "You'll want to stay." She mumbled as she unscrewed the lid on a 8-ounce
mason jar.
   "What's going on?  What do you need my blood for?"
   Annabelle tore open a needle package.  "I'm going to summon a
Voska-Zorient."
   "Voska?"
   "Parent to a Karja.  Proven to have a preference for humans.  They like
sexual energy."
   "Didn't you say they were the most dangerous kind?  What do you want a
Voska for?"
   Annabelle swabbed the inside of Silvia's elbow.  "The answer to that
should be obvious."
   Silvia winced as the needle pierced her vein.  "There are easier ways to
get laid."
   "But the only guarantee I'll enjoy it."
   "All fine and well, but again, why am I here and what do you need with
my blood?"
   "You meet the criteria."
   Silvia rolled her eyes as the jar filled with bright red blood.  "Why do
I physically need to be here?"
   "You can have a go when I'm done."
   She would have snatched away if it wouldn't have sent blood everywhere.
"No."
   "Don't be scared.  You don't have to."
   The jar filled, and like a demented nurse, Annabelle put a bandage on
the wound.  "There.  Sit." She pointed to a chair along the wall.
   Rather than raise further complaints, Silvia took her seat and watched
Annabelle at work.
   She spoke in a conversational tone, but a foreign language.  Using three
wired contraptions, she adjusted knobs and checked readouts.
   Already bored, Silvia leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.  She
was just about to fall asleep when a peculiar smell roused her.  Green
wisps of smoke formed over the symbols, creating a fog bank.
   Silvia leaned forward, squinted.  Something was in that fog.  An unseen
breeze cleared the mist, revealing a man so strikingly handsome that Silvia
felt uneasy.
   That was not a man, but a Zorient, one of the ancients.  Even so, Silvia
empathized with Annabelle's choice of lay.  He was tall, muscled, but
subtly so.  He had ruddy coils of locked hair draped behind his wide
shoulders.  Full lips, round nostrils, high cheekbones.  Light colored
eyes. He posed a striking profile.
   He wore a baby blue tunic with a seam from his sternum to mid-thigh. 
With its straight lines and heavy weight, no way it could be called a
dress. He wore a solid strip around his wrist.  It was a clear amber color
when the fog cleared, but turned opaque and warm brown.
   The process of that wrist band turning color took a while.  During that
time, there was only silence.  When it turned opaque, he spoke.  His voice
was the stuff of orgasmic hypnosis.  The rolling drawl sent shivers through
Silvia's body.
   "To whom do I owe this pleasure?"
   "Ah, um," Annabelle tittered, then cleared her throat.  "Tell me your
name and class, Zorient.  Once you agree to my terms, you will know my
name."
   He stooped down and looked at the symbols surrounding him.  He crouched
like a runner at a starting line, his leg muscles bulged.  What did his
skin taste like, Silvia wondered.
   "My name is Euryale.  I am of the Voska line.  You did this?"
   "Yes.  Now--"
   "Impressive work.  Some of these haven't been seen in decades.  They are
so intricate.  Many do not take the time.  Like this one here." The last
word was like a cat's purr, the low, rhythmic rumbled of a diesel engine.
   Silvia's heart raced as if she had just been running.  Her nipples
tightened.  She wanted him to keep talking, say anything.
   At his current angle ...  Silvia leaned her head over and got a glimpse
of his equipment.  Thick, not erect, but neither wholly flaccid.  A
tremendous amount of promise.  Silvia would not be taking that turn, not on
something like that.
   Annabelle, captivated and flattered, walked over to the inscription's
edge.
   "Very well done, but missing a critical component.  May I?"
   She nodded.
   Euryale erased three adjacent symbols with the palm of his hand.
   Silvia didn't know much, but she knew shit had gone sideways.
   Annabelle took a few steps backwards.  Fear mounting, Silvia sat there
as the Zorient advanced, stalking Annabelle like a great feline of prey.
   Annabelle opened her mouth, but Euryale put a single finger to her lips.
"It's a simple mistake, woman.  It happens.  A less experienced Zorient may
have missed it.  The first lesson is to get the agreement settled,
remember? Avoid any blanket permission.  Be certain of the terms of
agreements you enter into." He leaned forward and whispered into
Annabelle's ear.
   She trembled.  Her face turned red.  "Please, I beg your mercy.  Don't
kill me."
   "I will fuck you." He pressed against her, pinning her to the wall.  His
hips rolled, grinding into her.  "Don't you want that?  Isn't that why you
called me?"
   While Annabelle sputtered, the Zorient touched the collar of his tunic.
He erection jutted from the opening of the fabric.  He reached under the
hem of her shirt.
   Anna moaned and leaned heavily on the wall.
   Euryale stared at her as his fingers made noisy smacks.  "This is
exactly what you want, an expert.  You want to be taken.  You want me deep
inside you." He lowered his voice, but not so much that Silvia could not
hear.  "You want to feed me your essence."
   He fingered her until she was moaning and breathless.
   Silvia tore her gaze from them just long enough to look at the door.  It
should not be opened until the creature summoned had been banished, until
the portal had closed.  If she ran now, how far would she get?  Did she
want to risk pissing off a Zorient?
   Euryale removed his fingers and took three steps back.  He let the tunic
pool on the ground, then he sat - his cock thick, hard, curved toward his
belly.  He leaned back, supported by his elbows.  "What are you waiting
for, conjurer?"
   It was so huge.  Silvia shook her head in disbelief, about as thick
around as a flashlight, and just as long.
   Annabelle tossed off her shirt and straddled the massive hunk of meat
between the Zorient's legs.
   Silvia had never had sex herself, but she'd read enough smut and porn to
know she was looking at a living legend.
   In a single, smooth motion, Annabelle impaled herself on him.  She cried
out and braced on his shoulders.  The wet folds of her pussy wrapped around
him like a glove.
   Euryale put his arm around her waist and bucked under her.  Annabelles's
moans were senseless, different from porn, almost manic and frightening, as
if she had lost control.  She slid up and down his cock, coating him in
milky white arousal.
   "Yes," Annabelle hissed.  "Fuck me.  Fuck me!" She screamed as she
climaxed.  Her body twisted and seized.  Her eyes rolled back into her
head.
   Euryale chuckled and pumped into her.  He held her by the hips, bouncing
her up and down on his cock as if she were a rag doll.  Annabelle's breasts
bounced, swung wide and smacked together.  Her head flopped from side to
side, drool ran down the side of her mouth.  On and on it went until he let
her go.
   She collapsed on the floor beside him.  Eyes unfocused, mouth partially
opened, arms and legs twitching.
   Euryale looked at Silvia.  Grey green eyes ringed by a darker gray.  He
kept his eyes on her as he approached the jar of blood.  He fisted his cock
while drinking the blood, moaned low in his throat.
   He smacked his lips and reached down for his balls, grabbed on them,
pulled them.  His erection, as hard as ever, bobbed in front of him. 
"Colder than I prefer, but delicious." He set the empty jar down and faced
her.
   "You don't have to do anything with me." Silvia whispered, "Sir."
   He walked over, cock bouncing with each step.  The muscles rippled under
his flesh.  Why was he still hard?  "Don't I?"
   "You can leave; you got what she called you for ...  sir."
   His lips curved into a smile.  "Are you sure you want me to leave?"
   Silvia was not sure of anything.  This close, he smelled male, savory,
intoxicating.  She imagined kissing his lips, running her nails down his
back.  His voice in her ear.
   He said something earlier: blanket statements, agreements.
   "I, um, I want you to return to your realm."
   "Well stated." He took another step toward her.
   One more step and his cock would be able to touch her face.  Silvia
stood.
   "It's not that simple, sweet one.  Your blood summoned me.  I want to
taste your wet cunt.  You will enjoy it.  I promise."
   Silvia side stepped to put some distance between them.  How could she
fix this?  She couldn't banish him.  She didn't know how.
   Annabelle had stopped twitching, but still looked out of it.  Time.  She
needed time.  Annabelle would know how to fix it when she woke up.
   "I have a proposal."
   He inclined his head.
   "Leave.  Return to your realm, and ...  take me with you."
   "Is that all?"
   "No!" Silvia dripped sweat under each arm.  "No, sir.  I will go with
you, but you will see to my safety while I am there."
   "Safety," he grinned.  "Peculiar choice of words.  When I have you in my
realm, I will fuck you."
   "Don't kill me."
   "I will consider not killing you." He walked over and snatched up his
tunic.  "What is your name?"
   "Silvia," she cast a final glance toward Annabelle's immobile body. 
Whatever happened, she wanted to avoid ending up like that.
   ***
   Silvia woke naked, but warm, surrounded by four stone walls - sandy in
color, but with the same appearance / texture as marbled granite.
   She sat up in a bed in the center of a room - no headboard of footboard.
Each wall had a window, high off the ground, long, rectangular.  Two
covered ones on opposite walls.  The window opposite the door revealed a
brilliant peach sky.  Sunrise or sunset?
   She crawled out the bed, taking the blanket with her.  A gorgeous vista,
like something from a deviant art album in the photo-manipulation section.
   She had a view of the coast, deep blue green water stretched to the
horizon.  Trees grew in clumps on an island, their branches stretched up
and fanned out, creating a tight, rounded ridge.
   Other buildings with similar stone makeup marked the rolling coast.
   Wherever she was, it was a beautiful place.
   The door opened.  Silvia spun around.
   Euryale wore a pair of light weight evergreen shorts.  The material
outlined his flaccid cock, resting down his left thigh.  Harmless, for now.
"Welcome to my home."
   "Where is that?"
   "The netherworld, as you call it.  This realm is known as Chawzet, ruled
by High Lord Katica.  Did you rest well?"
   "Yes, thanks.  What happened to my clothes?"
   "You don't need them." He moved to the side wall and placed his palm on
a section.  What she thought a covered window elongated.  The wall dropped
and a recessed panel slid out.  He pulled a pale honey brown pice of fabric
out and draped it over his forearm.  "Put that aside and come here."
   In the interest of extending her life and keeping their interaction
civil, Silvia set the bed sheet aside and approached him.
   "Arms out." He held up a strip of fabric with a hole.  He put her head
through the hole, then touched something beside her neck.  The fabric
joined under her arms, down to her hips and cinched at the waist, creating
a dress with two very high splits on either side.  "This is your room for
the duration of your stay.  Keep to it.  I have responsibilities to see
to." Euryale closed the recessed wardrobe and left Silvia standing there.
   For several minutes, that's all she did.  Stood there, wondering what
would happened next.
   A croaking caw, clicks, and rustles drew her attention to the window. 
She leaned on the ledge listening to the sounds, trying to imagine what
sort of wildlife filled the realm of Chawzet.
   All she knew about the netherworld is what snippets Annabelle went on
about.  It was a place parallel to her own.  Special people from each world
had the means to access and travel between the realms.
   Was there a way back?  Could she escape?  How long did Silvia have
before her death?
   A voice.  Low, conversational.
   She left the window and walked toward the door, placed her ear at the
crack.  Male voice, rich sounding.
   She tried the door, and was surprised that it slid open to a hallway.
   She could see two other doors.  The one down the hall to her right was
partially open.  She didn't understand the language,but the tone said he
was speaking to someone else, as if on the phone.
   He chuckled.  It had a playful quality, friendly and inviting.  Did they
have phones in Chawzet?
   This was Euryale's home; she was a guest.  Maybe he was as well, maybe
she could learn how to get out of here.  She snuck down the hallway,
rationalizing her decisions.
   He sounded sunnier than Euryale's low purr.  Listening to him, it was
hard for her to maintain a constant level of fear and trepidation.  Even
her environment put her at ease: refreshing air, bright colors, gorgeous
architecture.
   "Excuse me?" She whispered from the hallway against the opposite wall,
ready to sprint at the slightest hint of hostility.
   "Enter." His voice sounded equally curious, with a melodic drawl.  What
did he look like?
   She pushed opened the door.  His room was similar to hers.
   A pale skinned male lay on the bed, naked, propped against a large
cushion.  He said something in a different language and removed the
C-shaped branch from the shell of his ear.
   Ah, so they did have phones.  It must have been a personal call given
the state of his erection.
   She blushed and averted her eyes.  "I didn't mean to interrupt."
   "Nonsense," he had a dramatic tone like an art director or drama
instructor might use.  "Please, have a seat." He made no move to close his
legs or cover himself.
   She stepped over to the bed and perched on the edge.
   "What's your name?"
   "Silvia."
   "Mmm, Silvia." He gripped the base of his cock and jacked it a couple
times, then let it go.  His nails were painted dark blue with turquoise
sparkles.
   She stared, both at his blatant erection and pristine manicure.
   "My name is Ulrich."
   "Pleased to meet you." The words happened out of habit, but in a hushed
tone.
   "Are you?  How delightful." The hairs on his balls were as pale as his
skin - frost blond, catching the light.  He was bald, easily showing the
sub-dermal horns curled around each side of his skull.  Ulrich stroked his
shaft again, long, hypnotic pulls causing clear liquid to bead on the head.
"What are you doing here, Silvia?"
   Her skin tingled and pebbled when he spoke her name.  Her belly
fluttered.  She felt like a girl with a crush, anxious, eager to please. 
"H-how do you mean?"
   "A human, here?"
   "Oh.  Euryale brought me here." She stumbled over her words, but not too
much.
   "How very fortunate for him, finding one so beautiful and healthy.  You
smell," he took a long, deep breath and moaned.  "Take that off, Silvia.  I
want to see you."
   "What?" She looked down at the dress.  "I don't know how."
   He smiled.  "Lift the skirt.  Sit between my legs and show me your
pussy. Are you wet?  Is your flesh bright pink or dark red?  I must see."
   Whoa.  That was forward.  She swallowed heavily.  She knew all about him
though, uncut, pale pink erection, long, but thin.  Frost blond to the
roots.
   She moved slow, watching his every move.  Why was she doing this?
   She sat between his spread legs and spread her own.  Cool air on her wet
labia.
   His dark green eyes dilated.  Ulrich sat up and smiled.
   "Don't touch me!"
   "Are you sure?  I'd like very much to lick you dry."
   Silvia chuckled.  "I wouldn't get very dry if you did that."
   "Oh, by the time I finished, you would be." He leaned down, but did not
touch.  She felt his breath of her clitoris, at the opening of her pussy.
"Oh, you don't know." He sounded sad, almost disappointed.
   "Don't know what?"
   "How it feels, what I offer.  Untouched.  Poor thing.  You are too
beautiful for a blood offering.  Why did Euryale purchase you, but not take
you?"
   "He said he would get to that."
   Ulrich hummed and her clitoris jumped.  She left it unsaid that he
hadn't bought her at all.
   "Silvia, you must touch yourself since I cannot.  You need it.  Can't
you feel what I can see?"
   Did she ever, a manic itch that demanded attention.
   Ulrich took to his knees and grabbed his cock.  He stroked and squeezed
the shaft.  "Touch yourself, Silvia.  Let's get to know each other.  Let me
feel you."
   Fear and arousal twined to create a unique erotic hum.
   He only handled the base, only his foreskin wrapped around the head and
rolled back.  The bead of arousal swelled and looked ready to drop.  "Would
you like a taste?"
   She did.  If Ulrich had been human, she would have wrapped her lips
around the head of his cock.  Silvia moaned, a shudder raced through her
body.
   "You want to know.  I assure you.  I will not harm you.  Just lick the
tip, Silvia.  Caress me with your tongue.  I don't mind if you touch me, if
you suck on me." His soothing voice made her weak with need.
   She opened her mouth and he closed the distance.
   Sweet, like honeysuckle nectar.  She opened her mouth wider, sucked him
deeper, took as much in her mouth as possible.  Ulrich rolled onto his side
and she followed, suckling him like a baby.
   "Take your time, Silvia.  There is plenty.  All for you.  That's it. 
Savor each second, each drop."
   Silvia whimpered, her pussy throbbed as she sucked on him.  She caressed
his thigh.  Soft hairs tickled her palm.  He thickened and throbbed on her
tongue.  She wanted more, wanted him to fill her mouth.
   Ulrich groaned and pulled out her mouth, moved to the opposite end of
the bed.
   She frowned while battling the urge to pounce him.
   Memories of what happened to Annabelle helped her keep still.  Did she
do something wrong?  Was it a trick?
   Ulrich smiled through his heavy panting.  "The moment before release is
most potent.  Also," his hips fucked the air.  Silvia imagined him inside
her, holding her down while he throbbed in her pussy.  "I promised not to
harm you.  I do not have the temperance to be cautious with an
inexperienced woman."
   "You seem very patient to me."
   Ulrich's face lit with a broad grin.  "Thank you.  The gradual build of
frustration and agony enhances the quality of the eventual release.  I
would have you begging, screaming.  You would pour your energy in a gush,
saving nothing for yourself.  As hungry as I am, I would take you."
Ulrich's green eyes glowed as he licked his lips.
   "You're not," Silvia moaned and panted.  In her mind, the begging had
already begun.  "Experienced enough to not kill me?"
   He chuckled at that, laughed and laughed.  He moved so fast that Silvia
started.  He went from lying on the bed to towering over her on all fours.
"Let me drink from your cunt.  Euryale did not buy you.  He could not
afford a human female of your caliber."
   "Be that as it may, we have an agreement."
   Ulrich purred like an old tom cat, his green eyes darkened.  He leaned
down close enough to feel the heat of his lips, but not close enough to
touch.
   Silvia puckered her lips and kissed him.  Faces pressed together, lips
to lips, noses, forehead.
   Ulrich's weight settled on her.  The length of his cock nestled along
her warmth.  Ulrich kissed his way toward her ear.  "Just this," he hissed.
"Put me inside you, and I will fully accept the invitation."
   That was enough to sober her.  Silvia didn't move.  She was so aroused
that she was burning up, but not so aroused that she would die to feel him
fuck her.
   "Ulrich." Silvia recognized his voice, but could not react.
   Ulrich's body felt warm, firm on hers.  Her pussy clenched at the
tempting press of his erection.  She wanted him inside her, wanted it, but
would not let herself move.
   "Delicious catch, Eury."
   "She belongs to me."
   "I know this.  She's in tact."
   Euryale sat on the bed and Ulrich pulled back, leaving her aching for
his return.
   "Looks like I returned in time."
   "In time to join us, perhaps?"
   "She's no karja."
   "Ah, but she could birth many.  Is that why you took her?"
   Euryale gathered her into his arms.
   ***
   Silvia never passed out, but it took her a while to gather her wits
enough to move or speak without thinking about riding a cock for the first
time.
   Her upper thighs were cold, but the dress was back in place.
   "What happened?" She shifted to face Euryale.
   He had on the same shorts, but they were nicely filled this time.  His
expression looked strange.
   "Are you all right?"
   "You appear to have a calm demeanor."
   "We had an agreement."
   That put a smile on his face.  "Get up.  Since you are so keen to
explore.  I will show you around."
   Silvia fell in step behind him.  The hallway opened up to a domed
structure with a fire pit, communal seating, and items that baffled
description.
   "I went to petition High Lord Katica for ownership of you.  Your friend
used you as a sacrifice, to reap the reward and have you pay for it."
Euryale chuckled.  "It may have worked, but I don't look kindly on cowards.
And ...  you did not scream or panic."
   "What did she say?" What did ownership mean?  Silvia wanted to know that
too, but it didn't sound like death, which is what she wanted to steer
clear of.
   "She reviewed my case and granted my request."
   Euryale had that unreadable look again.  "I will uphold my bargain." He
put an anklet on her.  "Your energy can never be depleted so long as you
are mine."
   <->
Epilogue: So short!  I know, but so sweet.
Written: May 2014
"My sexual interests are like my eating habits.  I'll try anything once,
twice, if you prepare it differently." -Bianca Lee
   Contact: nysidra at hot mail dot com
  
Chawzet