The ancient iron gate groaned as Tanith pushed it open with one hand, while the other held a silver thurible, billowing a heady incense of deep, carnal oud, funereal flowers and dark musks. The moon shown high and bright as she stepped onto unhallowed ground. Tanith felt the presence of the dead pressing in already, their hands reaching out to greedily grope at her thighs, breasts, neck or whatever else they could get at. She swung the thurible, smoke curling hypnotically up into the cold, autumn sky and all but the strongest specters were kept at bay. The rest were merely whispers of fingers on her cool, naked flesh.
Tanith walked the small path from the gate and through the weedy, long forgotten cemetery. So forgotten that it had long been deconsecrated, and desecrated, even. Restless dead howled and hissed with every step she took, frustrated that they couldn’t get at her and steal her life. Dead leaves crunched under Tanith’s small, bare feet as she approached a small, copse of twisted, leafless trees.
Where the rest of the cemetery was wildly overgrown, this copse was blasted and devoid of anything, save the trees, whose branches reached up like skeletal fingers to scrape at the night sky. A few tombstones jutted up from the lifeless ground like broken teeth, as Tanith reached up into one of the trees to retrieve a small bag she’d stashed there a few days ago.
Tanith knew that what she was about to do, what she was going to potentially summon, was dangerous. Yet the potential for danger made her grow wet, her thighs becoming slick. Restless dead pressed against the smoky barrier, sensing her arousal and gnashed their teeth. No, she was after something else entirely different, tonight, and she would pay any price to get it. Any. Price. Tanith waved them off and they shrieked, disbanded for now, as she sat down the thurible.
The jutting, bygone tombstones were roughly arranged in a circle. An oddity, but her dreams had led her to this place, in preparation for what was to come. Tanith paused for a moment as the memory of those dark, shadowy and sexual dreams washed over her. Her breath hitch for a moment at remembered feel of her flesh being being raked, of impossibly strong, bestial hands roaming possessively over her, and that impossibly hot, sinfully textured cock that had mercilessly teased between her legs but there was never the sensation of it inside her.
Tanith let out a soft moan as her hand wandered across her pert, pale breasts. Her nipples were already puckered by cool night air and a shiver ran through her when she flicked a thumb over one. For a moment, her eyes slipped closed and she desperately wanted to feel that shadowy, devilish cock inside her. She dimly wondered if she had already met the object of her desire, and this ritual was just window dressing, a formality. Tanith had been doing this long enough to know better. It was far better to be safe; she’d seen enough former practitioners be sorry for their lack of care.
A crow shrieked, shattering the abyssal quiet of the cemetery and Tanith was jerked backed from her reverie. Her breath shuddered and her skin twitched and crawled. Something was watching her and it wasn’t the cadre of frustrated dead who were swirling around and kept at bay by the smoke emanating from the thurible. Her heart pounded in her chest, eyes darting around with trepidation, but she saw nothing.
From the bag, Tanith took a large jar that contained salt, iron filings and crushed eggshells. She took a deep breath and spread it between each mossy, broken tombstone and around it so that every line was connected and unbroken. It was not a circle she’d created, but a large pentagon, whose points and sharp lines pushed the cacophony of hungry spirits further back. None could touch her now, not even a a hungry whisper of ethereal fingers across her skin. Not unless she broke the circle or invited them in.
On each of the five, faded gravestones, Tanith sat a thick, black candle. A long match flared to life, momentarily scenting the air with sulfur and mingling with the thurible’s heady, dark smoke and the scent of her own arousal.
“Ia Amelatu!” She called out into the night, lighting each of the candles, “Gatekeeper, open the gate for me!”
The air crackled, faintly electric and Tanith felt the sensation of the magic she called forth, starting to build and caress her bare skin. The barrier that she had laid began to hum and glow a faint, ethereal blue and for a moment, the candle flared tall and bright before they shrank back down and cast sinister shadows around the copse. Tanith looked up at the sky and the moon had moved into its position, telling her it was dead time, the time in which the veil was thinnest and the dead were the most active. It was also the most dangerous time to be risking both body and soul. Fear and excitement mingled in Tanith and not for the first time. She’d learned to enjoy such a ghastly paradox and it only fed her ever-growing arousal.
Above her, the maelstrom of dead swirled. Occasionally, one tried to cross into the pentagon and it shrieked as it hit the barrier and was driven back. Confident that it would hold, Tanith knelt on dusty, dead ground and took out the last items from the bag before tossing it aside.
Tanith opened The Book of Erebus to a marked page, set it next to the thurible and arranged the mortar and pestle next to it. She opened up a jar, its contents brackish and questionable, and dumped some into the mortal.
The infernal, sulfurous scent of it wafted up and momentarily turned Tanith’s stomach before she took up the knife laying across the book. She took a deep breath and wince as it bit into her hand. Blood trickled slowly into the powder and when it was enough, Tanith set it aside and bandaged her hand.
There was only one last thing the profane mixture in the mortar needed. Tanith spread her knees, exposing the hot, wet folds between her legs to the cool night air. She gasped at the sharp contrast and a moan escaped her lips. Tanith’s fingers glided up her knees and over her thigh as her other hand went to her breast and began to kneed and play with her nipple. Her head tipped back as she reached her soaked curls and slipped her fingers down, brushing at her clit. Tanith’s eyes fluttered shut, her dark hair swaying in the breeze, as she pushed one finger inside herself. She uttered choked cry as she added another finger, pushing them deep and curling them forward.
“Oh, fuck,” Tanith hissed, as she slowly drew her fingers in and out a few times. “Yes …”
She whimpered, frustrated, when she finally pulled them out. Tanith was so close now and she squeezed her thighs together to try and relieve her maddening arousal. She swirled her slick, wet fingers in the mortar, mixed it all well with the pestle.
“Body and soul, Blood and Flesh, ” she chanted over and over, as she started to inscribe strange, archaic symbols on the tops of her thighs, backs of her hands and her forehead. “Bring the one to be bound to me…”
Tanith felt the thrum of the symbols begin to move through her body as they started to glow a dull, bloody red. She was ready now and on the edge of orgasm, breathing heavy, as she brought the Book of Erebus between her parted knees. Tanith held up her hands to the night sky and the hovering lesser spirits that restlessly circled around the pentagon, trying in vain to cross over the barrier.
“N’ghanyth Hupadgh” she gravely intoned, twisting her vocal cords and tongue to make the primeval, guttural words, “n’ghft Nog orr’e, Mnanog ya!”
Servant of Death, born of Darkness, come Spirit, come to me!
“Ya ifuln! Ch’haiog!”
I summon you — cross over now!
“Y’ geb! Y’geb! Y’geb!”
I am here!, I am here!, I am here!
Tanith’s head snapped back, her eyes rolling up to their whites. Her eyelids fluttered, body seizing and shaking uncontrollably, almost knocking over the thurible near by. Bits and clips of strange, hellish visions passed before her: a bloodied maw, bestial growls, claws that rent living and dead flesh, alike.
She felt those claws rake across her own flesh, felt the weight of a creature on her, claiming her, violently biting into her shoulder and neck. Tanith gasped, pitching forward over the book, and catching herself on her hands just at the barrier of the pentagon. Her eyes were wild and wide open now, arms trembling and the recitation on her lips died down to almost a whisper. She lifted up her head and saw two pinpricks of hellfire blazing before her. In the fog, there was the dark outline of a hulking beast moving towards her and the pentagon.
Terror seized Tanith, and she froze on her hands and knees, her heart stammering in her chest, skin flushed far too hot and sweat beading all over. There was a scent in the air now— a salacious musk mingled with something hot and flinty. The scent of funereal flowers intensified, but it wasn’t from the thurible. Tanith’s fear and arousal collided and fought each other, but the more she inhaled that abominable, carnal perfume, the more she became impossibly wet, her clit throbbing and aching between her legs with a heightened, unnatural need.
Tanith let out a strangled moan of fright and desire, spreading her knees, opening herself, offering herself to the thing that lumbered towards her, predatory. It slowly emerged; first its black, canid head, ending in a slender muzzle with sharp lines and short, black ears. Next, it revealed long, powerful arms that ended in claws and thick, paw-like hands. The canine-looking beast continued to walk forward on its knuckles, gaunt shoulder blades protruding from its back, working up and down as they moved.
When it came up to the barrier, the flames of the candles around the pentagon, flared high and bright, revealing all of the creature to Tanith. Her mouth hung open, twisted in a silent scream, her nails clawing at dirt and ground, even as an obscene pulse of desire washed over her, making her clit spasm.
It was tall, even though it sat, hunched over, its broad chest nothing but skin and short, black fur stretched over bone. Bony ribs moved with huffs of hard, growling breaths, ears twitched and its whip-like tail moved back and forth in the dirt. The beast’s were were an abyssal black except for the hellish flame burning within. An aura of shadow surrounded the creature and thin wispy tendrils curled and licked at the air. Thin lips curled back, revealing vicious, jagged teeth and a thick, forked, blood red tongue lolled out.
Tanith didn’t dare move, even though stones ground painfully into her hands and knees. It let out a mournful, dirge of a howl and she knew now what the creature was—a hell hound. She’d summoned a hell hound as her familiar.
She swallowed hard and shuddered with need, as she caught sight of the monstrous, curving cock between it’s—his—legs. The crimson conical, pointed head gave way to black tiered ridges that ran along the underside and ended at its thick base. The hell hound knew that he was staring and he pulled back his canid lips in a sharp, terrible grin.
The hell hound stood abruptly on two legs, though still somewhat hunched, looking like something between a man and dark, canid beast, and reached out a clawed hand. He pushed through the barrier of the pentagon with ease, and when the restless dead tried to follow in his wake, he snarled and they fluttered away, terrified.
He dropped onto his knuckles again, sniffing behind Tanith at her sensitive, wet, exposed flesh. The hell hound drooled from his muzzle in anticipation, as he ran his raspy, thick forked tongue between Tanith’s legs. She screamed in pleasure at the searing heat of his tongue and her arms buckled.
“You called,” the hell hound rumbled, finally, as a shadowy tendril lanced out and whipped around Tanith’s throat. “and I came. But I called to you first, testing you, teasing you, tasting your flesh… I’ve seen you in your dreams, drew you here to this place.”
The hell hound raked claws over Tanith’s ivory ass and left thin, red lines of blood and she let out a low and wanton moan of pain and pleasure before she awkwardly craned her head to look back at him.
“Wh..what is the price of your binding?” Tanith managed, her voice shaky and choked.
His lips curled back into a horrible grin, revealing those jagged, too-white teeth.
“Sex,” the Hell hound rumbled, inhaling the exquisite melange of Tanith’s fear and arousal, “and Death. Will you die for me?”
Tanith’s eyes flutter closed for a moment, the shadowy tendrils tightening around her throat, ever so slightly. Her body jerked and there was an obscenely pleasurable flutter between her legs.
“Yes!” She croaked, her eyes opened now, not taking them off of the hell hound’s. “Anything…”
The hell hound was on Tanith and she let out a strangled cry as the tendrils jerked her head back. A broken howl of pain left her stretched throat as he slammed forward, mounting her, all his weight, making Tanith’s back bow and her legs buckle. He seized her waist with one arm and pulled her roughly against his chest. The hell hound felt her spasming around his cock already and he let out a loud growl from deep in his chest as he snapped his hips against her in a stiff, brutal rhythm .
Choked, thin cries barely left Tanith’s lips as the shadow tendrils tightened harder around her throat with each of the hell hound’s brutal thrusts, her eyes wide and unseeing with terror. Her hips worked uncontrollably, blindly pushing back on the hell hound’s assaulting cock, chasing her pleasure and her pain.
Tanith shrieked, her ribs snapping as the hell hound’s arm clamped down on her and fucked her harder, faster. A clawed, leathery paw-like hand raked bloody furrows into her side and across her breasts. There was so much mind-numbing awful pain as Tanith broke beneath the hell hound but she was so close to coming as he furious ground against her, snapping his bestial cock inside her over and over again.
She was barely aware of the tendrils slipping away and it was swiftly replace by the searing, crushing vice of the hell hound’s large jaws. Razor teeth bit into her and she gasped, her hips trying in vain to keep up. He forced her head and arms down until her face was on the ground, mouth spitting blood and saliva into the dirt.
The hell hound felt Tanith surrender completely beneath him and he snarled, biting harder, her whimpers muffled by the ground. A strange warmth washed over Tanith and a strangled cacophony of moans and shrieks clawed its way out of her throat as she came harder than she ever thought possible in an intense haze of unimaginable pleasure and horrific pain.
Another orgasm hit Tanith hard, as her spine snapped beneath the hell hound. He roared, the sound deafening in her ears as he came, his cock pulsing hot and hard inside her. There was a sickening crunch as Tanith’s neck broke between his jaws as gout after gout spilled inside her. When he was done, her lifeless body slid off his cock and fell sideways to dirt in front of him.
The hell hound crouched next to Tanith’s broken, bitten and clawed body, regarding it for a moment, as he began to shift. Short, black fur began to disappear in wisps of shadow, as though it were being blown off his skin by an unseen wind. His canid muzzle receded into a man’s face, and he retained his claws on human hands.
He placed a grave-cold hand on Tanith’s forehead while the other rested itself between her breasts.
“Tanith, Mnanog ya,” the hell hound beckoned roughly, his voice gritty from disuse, “ch’haiog… Mnanog ya.”
Tanith, come to me, cross over now … Come to me.
Tanith’s back arched abruptly, violently and a sharp sound of air being sucked in, pierced the silence. Her chest burned, body in pain as broken bones ground back into place. She trembled in shock, her hands opening and closing spasmodically, as she tried to speak but her throat was still crushed. She felt the hell hound’s hot, forked tongue roughly, painfully licking at the deep furrows he carved in her flesh, working its way over her breasts and up to her neck where she let out a gurgling cry as her bones snapped back together as hard as they’d snapped apart.
Tanith looked up, bleary eyed, at the figure above her. It was not the beast who had so savagely and murderously fucked her. It was man, marked by otherworldlyness, his ears were slightly pointed, inky black hair hung down half his face, and glittering, onyx eyes with no sclera stared down at her. His skin was glacially pale and cold as the grave. Yet, she knew this was the hell hound; she had no doubt as he remained crouched over her.
Sounds gurgled in Tanith’s throat as she tried to speak again and the hell hound pressed a cold, clawed finger to her lips.
“None of that,” the hell hound rumbled. “You belong to me now, Tanith—our pact is sealed. You died for me so beautifully. Well done.”
“Your … name,” Tanith managed, through her partially healed throat.
“Razeth,” he said, giving Tanith an awful bloody grin with his razor sharp teeth. “You and I have much work to do…”
“Razeth,” Tanith rasped, a blissful smile on her broken lips, before she slipped into darkness.