I weighed the pot of ink in my hand. Crimson, too crimson to be authentic blood, it had a foreboding colour. I gave it a couple of shakes, to make sure the particles were evenly distributed, before putting it on the table and pulling the glass seal off.

To do so without spilling ink all over myself may have been the hardest part of the entire procedure I was helping out with. The lid sat vacuum tight, so overcoming it was a matter of force that could easily set the liquid inside into motion. With a trained hand, I managed to overcome this hurdle and access the ink.

“Can’t they store these with a screwing mechanism?” I complained, after putting the lid aside on the table. It was a uniquely shaped wooden top, with a frame integrated that perfectly fit the parchment that Willt had placed there. A light shone weakly through the yellowish paper, outlining a summoning circle of moderate complexity.

“Haven’t you paid attention in alchemy class?” my friend asked me, his tone quiet out of respect for our location. The ‘demon library’ of Welldark’s Communications Branch was tucked away in a corner, where this part of the campus was closest to the Magic Branch. The seven shelves stacked thirteen rows high, under the ceiling. Grimoires in red and black leather, with the occasional other colours dedicated to various sins, filled them. There was a reading corner and a summoning circle preparation corner. The latter of which, we were currently at.

I had no idea why demon summoning had been assigned to the segment of the campus that primarily dealt in linguistics. Perhaps because making deals with demons was an effort of such fine wording. Still, I felt like this was like putting a platypus into an aviary just because it had a beak.

“How is the form of the lid important to the esoteric value of the ink?” I asked, grabbing one of the brushes that was provided with the table. Willt did not answer my question immediately, he had to keep his hand steady while drawing a summoning circle of much greater complexity.

“It’s because the lid makes it difficult - you could spill the red ink all over yourself if you weren’t careful,” my warlock friend explained to me. “It’s a tiny bit of symbolism. If you’re not careful, you could make the ‘power’ you wish to ‘bring forth’ ruin what you currently have. Be thankful that the ink will only ruin your current set of clothes.”

I looked at my shirt. “Would red on red be a sin enough to power this symbolism, or would it be more effective if I changed into a shirt of virgin white? It is widely known, after all, and across all worlds, that demons have great appreciation for the sacrifice of virginity.”

“Only if you dwell in the domains of greed, pride, or lust,” Willt responded in a serious tone and raised his brush from the parchment. “Are you going to distract me all day or will you actually help me?”

“Truly, you are one that dances with demons, slave driver that you are,” I grumbled and looked at the small stack of circles that I had already finished. Next to it was a stack twice as tall and twice as complicated. I may have known my way around a summoning circle, absorbing the necessary knowledge by cultural osmosis, but Willt was on a whole different level.

I let the brush soak in the ink and then got to drawing. Following the lights that shone through the parchment was an easy task for someone with a steady hand. That we had to do this by hand, at least, I could understand. A summoning circle could not be printed, it required the touch of sapience to properly work. If it had been any other way, demons would have had to deal with confusing calls a great many times. In a practically infinite universe, even the tiniest chance for a randomly occurring summoning was guaranteed to happen at an irksome frequency.

He who created this plane of existence certainly had a lot of good ideas about putting it together.

I was helping Willt with his side job. I had little better to do during a Tuesday morning and I hadn’t been able to spend a lot of time with my best friend recently. The reasons for that were obvious, as both of us were pursuing our fields of interests and the growing of our Anomalias. Male camaraderie was a fantastic bond, but the continuation of sapient life required that the bond to women typically trumped it. Importantly, I would have been lying if I said I preferred spending time with Willt over spending time with Esther. The Queen of my Anomalia was just so witty and she wanted the best for me, even if that meant she got in my way at times. Aclysia, similarly, was gorgeous company. She had the rare gift of holding an engaging conversation without saying much at all.

Time spent with Willt would grow shorter as our studies progressed. In less than a year’s time, our current, shared dwelling would be upended by the dormitory system. By then, both of us would have several women around us. It rarely took more than one to take enough time that previously constant meetings became infrequent. After we graduated from the school in Hell, we both had known that this would be our path, even at a shared university. Once we would graduate from Welldark, I would move on entirely, while he was likely to settle down somewhere. Probably back in Hell.

I rarely bothered to consider my future in detail. I only knew that I was going to cherish what I had right now. “Don’t forget the demon talons,” Willt reminded me for the third time.

“I won’t,” I assured him and drew the jagged curves into the circle just to demonstrate. They were not part of the path the light shone. What was projected was a basic circle. What was required had a select few additional details. “I know exactly why I shall never dabble in demon summoning. They artfully paint these circles, one after another, only to see them all go up in flames, it pains me already.”

Willt just hummed in acknowledgement, while he fanned the ink of his finished circle. “You’re being more palavering than usual.”

“I have to get it all out of my system while I can. Esther does not like my extrapolations.”

“Sounds like you’re whipped.”

“A little bit,” I acknowledged with a shrug. “We all make sacrifices to get along with our loved ones, don’t we?”

“I certainly have been missing a lot of shirts,” Willt joked.

“Me too, although Esther insists she isn’t taking any… and I believe her. I feel like even my shirts wouldn’t be big enough for her.” I made outlining gestures in front of my chest. “Your shortstack can wear your stuff without issue, but my girl is tall.”

“That only leaves one other culprit though. You think Aclysia is the kind to steal shirts?”

“Absolutely.” I executed the final brush stroke. “I’ve only been catching onto this recently, but there’s crazy under that surface.” Willt snorted in amusement. “Not surprised?”

“Look, dude, I know you aren’t the greatest judge of common sense, but the amount of women that run around eager to dedicate themselves to a ‘Master’ that do not have at least some bits of crazy to them is zero,” the young warlock responded. “And I don’t mean that there’s no sane people who have a BDSM kink, I mean that the kind of woman who puts on a maid outfit and calls it her proper attire is definitely not normal in the modern age.”

“Another plain reason to reject modernity and return to maid,” I said and put the brush into a small glass depression. Like Willt, I got to fanning the ink. “When men wore suits and women wore elegant skirts. Truly, the most civilized of times.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“So you’ll be seeking a world around the Enlightenment era when you get away from here?” Willt asked.

“It’s on the list, albeit I don’t need such tricks to see neither Aclysia nor Esther in a maid outfit.” A great, dramatic flourish brought the back of my right hand to my forehead. “Alas, I cannot yet see them in such clothes and devour them erotically as they deserve.”

“Your boss would not like that.”

“Indeed, he would not, and he’s a really nice boss.” I sat down for a moment, just waiting for the remaining ink to dry. Willt mimicked the motion and we continued our conversation in a more relaxed fashion. “Not worth the risk of getting caught balls deep inside Esther. We’ll just buy roleplay outfits another time. Maybe Aclysia can buy two. I refuse to believe she hasn’t picked one out.”

“That’s assuming you convince her father to let you have her,” Willt reminded me of that sordid detail. My facial features contorted as if I had just bitten into a raw lemon. “How’s that going?”

“I need to last 16 seconds longer.”

“Can’t even do that much for Esther, huh?” Willt answered immediately.

“That doesn’t even make sense, friend,” I responded with a shook head and a chuckle. “We were clearly talking about Taurus and I assure you that no thoughts of lewd activity spawn in my head in combination with the man.” After a pause, I added, “Your girlfriend is rubbing off on you.”

Willt still laughed to himself. After clearing his throat, he continued, “Anyway, 16 seconds, sounds like you’ll be cutting it close with your current efforts.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I’ll be doubling down during Astral Cultivation today. Time to give it all I have.”

“You usually get what you want when you do that,” Willt said, his attempt at encouragement was noted, even if he sounded more analytical. “It’s always fascinating to watch when you actually try. I keep forgetting you can do that.”

“I’m always trying, just not as much as I could.”

“Basically what I was saying,” Willt shrugged. “I just find it interesting how motivated you get when there’s something you want behind a giant hurdle. That’s way too much risk for me. I’d just go do something easier.”

“I’m the fast and bold rabbit, you’re the slow and steady turtle,” I mocked him.

“You do remember that that turtle wins in those tales, yeah?” he responded with a raised eyebrow.

“Merely due to specific circumstances that would never be the case in reality. In the end, the rabbit would outrun the turtle and so it will always be. But let us dismiss such petty strategic differences, how are things going with Melina?”

Willt blushed slightly at the mention of the greed demon from alchemy class. Even though we were alone in the library, he remained uncomfortable when it came to disclosing his love life. One day, perhaps, he would be cured of his awkwardness. “We are advancing well…” he mumbled.

“…She totally made you eat her out while I wasn’t around, didn’t she?” I made a wild guess. Willt stood up and checked on his summoning circle. He picked it up and carried it over to the stack. I copied the action and both of us got the next parchment ready. “So you got your second girl on lockdown, congratulations. How is Arlethia coming along with the Anomalia ritual?”

“She almost has it,” Willt mumbled, still a bit embarrassed. In spite of his emotions, his hand moved the brush along swiftly and expertly. “Arlethia brought a ragefire home yesterday. Someone she met during combat class… might be the third. She seemed interested enough and she’s hot.”

“As ragefires tend to be,” I responded jovially. “That’d be your third kind of demonette. Aiming to build an Anomalia featuring all seven sins?”

“It’d be aesthetically pleasing… also Arlethia keeps insisting I’m a demon magnet.”

“It’s because you’re a subby warlock, that attracts every demon girl in a thirty pentagram radius,” I told him and I was not entirely joking.

Females of the humanoid, sapient species were generally attracted to a similar set of attributes. Efficiency, strength, capability, empathy, such general concepts. It only made sense, as the reproductive method of all these species was fundamentally the same. Whether a human woman gave birth or a female slime spawned a number of new cores, they both went through a period of gestation during which they were vulnerable. Consequently, they would want a male that could provide security and resources.

That was the biological calculus underlying love. Not particularly romantic, but useful to understand nevertheless. With all of that said, there were small to medium differences between what the species valued when it came to their ‘protector’.

Demonettes had, broadly speaking, two modus operandi. They either dominated their partner in the bedroom or they provided immense amounts of sexual services. The goal was to make oneself so indispensable in the bedroom that removal became unthinkable. No submissive man would want to change out their dominatrix and no normal or dominant man would want to miss the blowjob slut that treated his dick like it was their god. For better or for worse, demon women liked having aggressive leverage. In the cutthroat realm of Hell, it was often a necessity - even if the realm had mellowed out a lot from mythological times.

To this day, in the world of demons, clashes only went violent when one side was either desperate or felt they were certain to win. Because the society was innately magical, having intense supernatural abilities was just as much acknowledged as raw physical prowess. Everything that was a deterrent to an enemy attack was seen as attractive, from influence to money.

In other words, Willt, the descendant of a semi-accomplished warlock, with the Dimensional Truth awakened, and a disposition towards moderate submission, was like a pot of honey left near a hive of very hungry bees. Unless he specifically tried, and I doubted he would, his looks, reputation, and Arlethia’s recommendations to whatever demon friends she made, would inevitably fill up his Anomalia with the more dominantly minded members of the local, female demon population.

A part of me envied that, the rest of me was eager to continue what I was doing. Having a look that was naturally appealing to a certain kind of forthcoming woman made things a lot easier, but I preferred to be the chaser. I liked the challenge of impressing a woman and the work it required to convince them that I was the guy they should go with. Besides, forthcoming women rarely were the kind of submissive I enjoyed. Esther was a pick-up so fortunate I would never stop being thankful for her.

Not that I would ever stop being thankful for Aclysia either, once I had her in my bedroom. Haremettes were to be appreciated at all times, especially when they were such good girls. Already, I was fantasizing about the double blowjobs I would wake up to in the not so distant future. A foregone conclusion, if my training to elaborate on their inclinations continued successfully.

Esther had been giving me service when I asked for it both yesterday and today and there was no reason to believe this pattern would not continue into the future. Without the aphrodisiac influence, she had regained a bit of hesitancy. Still, the greatest hurdle was cleared. She was willing to take my cock into her mouth and from there all I needed to do was direct her and tell her she was doing fantastic. For all the control she had over my financial life, Esther remained obedient to my whims in the bedroom. A separation of powers that I could fully subscribe to.

As for Aclysia, I had ample reason to believe she would take to blowjobs with more ease. Unlike the lady of my love, the maid of my life had considered her sexual tastes previously and clearly knew where she wanted to be: at the bottom. With that certainty came interest in a set of acts and it would have surprised me if she had not already practiced how to deepthroat.

“Are you thinking about anal sex?” Willt took an educated guess. He knew me well enough to know that prolonged silence on my part meant that was I likely contemplating something sexual.

“Oral. I finally got Esther to try. Was a lot harder than anal, ironically.” I wondered if Esther was wearing her buttplug at this very moment. Her habit to change where no one could see any part of her naked came in handy when there was also something to hide between her legs. If she was, I doubted she would keep it in until the Battlefield Training lesson later today. She was too serious for such stunts. “Lemme guess, you already got all three holes down?”

Willt cleared his throat. “She is a succubus.”

“You can just say yes,” I told him. I still won on the technicality that I had banged another woman’s asshole before, but that was in the throes of passion, this was convincing my long-term partner to try.

Our chat went back and forth for a while. Mostly we spoke about our women. They were, evidently, what was on our mind the most. Willt got a jab in on the fact that this was not a changed state of affairs for my horny butt. I philosophized on whether this was a bad thing or not. It was a good time all around.

At the end, Willt double checked the prepared parchments. The crimson pentagrams on them were all without flaw, although he temporarily seemed displeased with one of my creations. That he kept it in the stack was basically a sign of ‘this is good enough’. Good enough worked for me, in this instance. I was not a summoner and I would not be one. Besides the aforementioned distaste for seeing my creations go up in flame after usage, I had no utility for summoning. Although a succubus was on my proverbial harem bingo card.