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Empire - City of Magic (Black_Out and darkest_fate)

Light flashed, the room spun and twirled amidst a roar of discordant noise. Then it all stopped and her surrounds screeched back to normalcy. Zatanna was on her knees in the middle of the floor of the secretive underground club. Her purple lips were turned to the side, locked around the very mortal shaft of the man who she first encountered. His head was tilted back, teeth gritting together as he let out a snarl of euphoria laced breath as the young buxom beauty sucked down his salty blast of cum.

"God, god damn babe, your sucking that cock like a fucking porn star." His jaw went slack as he gasped out his praise for her mouths ministrations. His fingers, wrenched in the soft silky black of her hair kept her face plunged against his crotch as the last of his seed spilled down her throat. He wasn't alone though.

The sultry pair of ladies from the bar had joined them out here in the middle of the floor. They were kneeling as well, directly before the young magician and her discarded garments of purple. They both had their faces buried in Zatanna's breasts, sucking like demons at the hard pink pierced nipples. Their silky smooth tongues swirled around them, coating saliva across the black circled areola's and topping their peaks with glistening moisture. They bit soft, then hard, chewed on the hard nubs they had claimed with their mouths while their hands stroked and roamed over young teenage flesh.

The redhead had her hand buried between Zatanna's legs. Busy fingers rubbed and stroked over her gushing pink sex. She tickled the stiff little clit, while she pumped her fingers in and out of her so wet sex. Her companion had a hand around the back of the young teens body, clamped across her firm ass cheek. Her fingers traced and dove into the valley of her ass and tickled at the aching star ring shaped conglomeration of muscles there. They gasped and slurped against her pearly white teardrop shaped full breasts as Zatanna began to regain her bearings.

The others in this hedonistic haven watched the show taking place. Leering grins, small bouts of laughter, and comments of lewd approval sounded from those in the peanut gallery that were enjoying the erotic show case. "Damn, did she have her whole fist up her pussy?...She ain't gonna walk right for a week....I don't know what the hell she was talking about, but man I nearly wanted to jack myself off when she started talking about being made into an incubator. Kinky."
 
The sudden snap to reality almost knocked Zatanna unconscious. The magician flinched, drawing back for a moment, almost falling flat onto her ass. Everything settled, and she felt her inexplicable, burning need snap into something... believable? She still felt fucking horny, hornier than normal, but it felt less like an all encompassing, mind blowing, soul shattering, magick rewriting need, and more like the constant buzz that came from contact. Zatanna didn't feel the stickiness, or the thick cock inside her throat, just something... smaller? spurting something decidedly less pleasing into her. She actively gagged, a spurt of spittle and semen, white semen, leaking around her face.

More? There were---women? Zatanna's wide, blue eyes flicked from one to another, confusion crinkling her brow. They still worked her nipples... which she saw still had the bone piercing shot through them. The little mounds of flesh didn't appear to be... leaking? They felt full, they ached, but not---not much more than normal? Zatanna still jerked against the mouths, still squirmed in position---in kneeling position? Had she been kneeling? her head spun.

what the fuck had been real and what hadn't? Because if it was all a dream, I shouldn't have pierced nips. But these people don't look like the demon, and there's no orange seed, and my breasts are just--- sensitive? Fuck, was this some kind of circumstancial magic? Wait: I can even think clearly again. DID THAT HAPPEN OR NOT? Am I---am I--- But Zatanna couldn't even finish the thought. Was she still a virgin? Had she lost herself to demons? Or had they created some kind of pocket dimension? A dreamscape? Her mind didn't quite pronounce any, particularly as she heard the audience claiming that she'd fisted herself.... which had to be impossible. She looked to her hand, flexing fingers. there was... wet. But she definitely hadn't said---couldn't speak... right? She pulled her mouth fully free from the cock. She noted a ring of purple matching her lipstick, right there on the base.

"I need to go," Zatanna said clearly, enuciating the words fully. She blinked, gestured almost frantically at the people around her, wobbling to her feet. What was she still wearing? Was she still wearing something? Her mind spun as she desperately tried to leave, to hurry out of this place where her mind no longer felt in order. She'd have to try a tracing spell or see what other effects were still on her. The piercings had to go anyway... and it felt like she'd need some healing spells... but first, first she had to get out of there.
 
The bartender watched everything unfold and as Zatanna rose to her feet and exclaimed that she needed to go he moved in. His youthful handsome features tried to put her at ease as he swept through the crowd and placed a hand on her shoulder in a tentative offering of momentary comfort. He didn't let the contact linger though as he looked squarely into her eyes. Which was a feat in and of itself, with her breasts bared and saliva smothering her pierced nipples. "Hey, come on I'll take you out through the back door." His soft words encouraged her to follow him as he tested again with a gentle touch of his hand upon the square of her back in an effort to lead her along.

His other hand offered her a soft cloth of white linen that was damp with warm wash water that he used to polish the surface of the bar. "Clean yourself up, it'll be alright." He tried to sound reassuring, tried to be gentlemanly and heroic while the others clapped, chuckled, and fell back into their normal routines down in the Devils Den.

The pair of women scowled after her in a playful mockery. "Ah, but we were just getting started." The sultry redhead smiled as she dusted her knees off and rose to her feet, offering her hand to her blonde haired friend. "Come back soon, mmm." Her associate sensuously added before turning to deeply embrace the lips of her friend. The man whom she had just been greedily sucking away at shivered as he stared after Zatanna and went about tucking his spent cock back under his trousers, zipping them up. He blew a kiss her way and winked as he watched the bartender working to effort the dumbfounded raven haired teen away.

There was a small service hallway that he coaxed Zatanna towards, swinging wooden doors of intricately carved wood that displayed motifs of hellish imagery swung open as he pushed his hand against them. The brief glance of the mirror behind the bar fell across the young magicians confused blue eyes and she could see the scratches of claws, the citrus colored orange juices dribbling down her body, and she could feel him, the demon all around her. It was like he was part of her shadow, or in the very essence of the air she breathed in for that moment when she crossed her gaze with her reflection upon the mirror.

The nudging of the fit and attractive bartenders hand drew her through the open doorway and into the narrow hallway. Lockers were passed by swiftly, a pair of restrooms for employees left in their wake, a steel door that led to the refrigerator where kegs upon kegs of beer were waiting in line to be tapped into fell behind her steps as her escort hurried her along towards the red glow of an exit sign at the far end of the hallway. His hand pushed the door open, and out into the cold dark of night he led Zatanna Zatara.

As she emerged with the bartenders hand placed upon the tender slope of her shoulder she immediately took notice of a long stretch limousine. It's engine idled in the dark and dim light found in the back alleyway behind the club. Curving white horns rose up from a black spherical hood ornament. Another rag came around and sought to smother her lips with its ether soaked wetness as the young heroic helpful bartender tried to latch the chloroform laced rag around the purple lips of Zatanna.
 
The hand upon her made Zatanna jump. She twisted, muscles tightening, remembering, if belatedly, that she did have some hand-to-hand combat. She couldn't be a match for, say, Batgirl or Black Canary or the sort, but she could hold her own in a fight, and usually overwhelm people who weren't expecting it. However, she soon recognized the one guy in the club she'd actually liked, plus he was being nice, plus they were now heading out of the freaky circle room. Though it sucked, because being escorted meant Zatanna couldn't just mutter a spell and create a sexy outfit from around herself.

The cloth that was offered seemed so sad with those thoughts. Zatanna couldn't help but laugh, quickly using it to get the worst. She flushed as the other women teased, wondering just what was going on there. Had they seen a different reality? or had they been turned into the demon for a moment? Did it really matter? The flushed, virginal? girl hurried after the bartender, moving quicker than someone would probably expect for a girl wearing heeled boots. Ugh, go figure that those would still be on.

"I'd like my clothes back, if that's cool," she asked as they walked, glancing down again. Her thong did seem to be there... though was it still enchanted? She couldn't quite tell. She shivered, looking away for a moment, seeing the wood. Seeing the mirror---the---shit! Was it real? She paused, staring, mind whirling once more. Fuck this sensory bullshit! "Pots gnidih! Laever flesruoy ot em! Lla fo uoy!" magic crackled and flowed---likely spiraling out to her eyes, assuming their seal didn't just hit her back there. Either way, she'd be stepping into the col soon enough, seeing the truth and getting some idea of what the fuck was actually going on.

That increased alertness, magically amplified or not, put her in a decent position as she saw that limo. Zatanna took in the ornament, the condition, the situation, all moments before something slid toward her. She jerked, pulling a hand up to snatch the incoming drug. She twisted sharply, turning and kicking back, aiming her sharp heel. If she had magic, she'd be using it soon enough, getting enough power to burst free and make a break for it. No fucking way was she letting them catch her now; not here. Not... yet?
 
Faces peered out through the dark tinted windows that were further enhanced with mystical properties that kept Zatanna's prying vision from piercing inside. They watched as she emerged from the dinged up metal doorway that emptied out into the stark dim light of the alleyway where the stretch limo's engine softly purred. The four members of the Cult of Horns gathered up their hideous masks that were twisted representations of animal heads that sprouted cruel horns of different sizes and shapes. As the rag of chloroform was swept around Zatanna's shoulders by the deceptive accomplice they strapped their masks into place and prepared to open the doors and take her in.

Then it all went south rather quickly. They knew she had some martial training. A person with her background was expected to be able to handle herself, but they hardly expected her to be aware enough to stop the drugging that would of dulled her senses and put her into a slumber. Her boot sharply drove into the ribs of the young man that had led her here to this trap. He tumbled back, letting out a pained gasp of breath as he felt a rib crack under the force of the young magicians striking boot heel. Feet tangled up and he fell backwards with a thud through the open door, landing at the precipice of the service halls exit.

Wide black door at the side of the limo's rear nearest her swung open as the first cultist emerged from the shadows of the vehicles interior. He was a tall and lanky figure draped in heavy robes that were etched with demonic symbols. His bull like mask stared towards Zatanna as she spun about to face her newest adversary. Gloved black hands went to reach for her and try to drive her into the wall while circling his arms about her her slender waist. She was too fast though and with one knee into the gut of the robed individual he sprawled forward and smashed into the dirty brick wall, momentarily dazed from the impact.

Already the young man was back on his feet and he lunged back out of the door for her. She heard him coming and spun just in time to greet his face with a solid blast from her clenched up fist. By the time she turned back around she could see the bull horned masked cultist clambering into the back of the limo as someone in a goats head mask reached out and helped draw him in as the tires squealed. "Go, go!" Some voice called out and then was silenced as the door slammed shut and the deep black limo roared out of the alleyway, swerving onto the road and disappearing from sight.

By the time she spun back around to check on the bartender that lured her here she saw him dropping a pill into his mouth. As foam bubbled up and poured from his lips she could hear the gurgling sounds of his voice. "Pra...praise....be.....to Erebus! You will...be.....his!" Then his voice fell into coughing sputtering sounds as he thrashed about while the vile poison he had induced turned his veins purple.
 
When she went over it later, Zatanna couldn't properly explain what happened. Perhaps, perversely, the whole experience had given her a power boost, or made her more ferocious, or just, in general, made her want to lash out at the world, and at these beings in particular. Or maybe she'd simply been storing up energy, or she'd just gotten lucky. Regardless, the magician whirled with a grace that would've made Batgirl proud. Heels out, feeling bones crack. Magic blasted almost effortlessly, her powers seeming to work as good as ever. She kept spinning and whirling, not even pausing as her hands fluttered with arcane energy, the backward speak coming back. Routine kicked in, and without a demon to distract her, Zatanna became the superheroine she'd been training to be.

By the time she'd finished, Zatanna felt flushed, alive, ready to attack... and slightly aroused. She tried not to think about that sensation pounding within, instead snapping her hands up: "Ecart ot nigiro!" she called, slapping the limo with a tracing spell. It was improvised, nonstandard, but well powered, so she thought it might stick, at least long enough to work. She whirled back, curious, concerned, and still buzzing, to see the bartender. Wait, no! She lunched forward, fingers delving toward his mouth, trying to intercept, only to find herself moments late. Instead the poison bubbled around her lips, and a quick antidote spell soon shot from her lips.

She sat back, panting, simply resting in the alley. "What in the world is an Erebus?" she asked the city, not expecting an answer from this cesspool. She closed her eyes, taking a few more breaths. But Zatanna knew she couldn't rest here. She gestured, resummoning her clothing, letting it slide over her lush frame. She'd grown... used to the tingling in her sex, so that now her pants didn't quite rub as much as they had... or perhaps she'd mentally fed the spell's urges. Her chest, however, ached. She could almost see the pierced nipples through the corset top, making her flush. She'd have to resort back to the tape to cover, particularly since she didn't want to become more... distracted.

A short spell took her back to her lair. A shower was soon in order, with another session with a nozzle, working out more of her inner demons. Naked, she studied her pierced breasts in the mirror. In truth, Zatanna kind of liked the overall look. The erect nipples; the badass threading through them. It made her look the perfect combo of sexy and kickass that she generally liked. It was that they'd been pierced with literal demonic powers that made her uneasy, not to mention not knowing the bone. She cast a few spells already, working to determine origins. The spells would take some time to reveal anything, but already she was concerned.

Books started revealing details about Erebus. Some sort of long lost god, a debauched king of the horned cults. Though, unsurprisingly, they were beginning to seem like the horny cult, a thought that made Zatanna snort. She was hardly one to talk: every demonic image had her absently feeling herself, tweaking nipples, rubbing against her sex. She groaned, feeling her palm ruffle the trimmed hatch of black nether hair. That was what got her: they got her wrapped up in sex and she lost focus. she'd been ready otherwise, mostly. The answer seemed simple, a spell her dad had once taunted her with. Sighing, she pulled back her hair, following through with the incantation:

"I ma neddibrof morf ycatse fo eht hself. I tonnac tserc litnu siht lleps si desaeler." magicks flowed around her, she felt them burrowing in, smirking as her sensations ebbed. It would do that: it was meant to focus a magician on their studies, hence why it was so intricate. But only the magician could release it with the command, no matter what. To further it, she placed a hand upon her chest: "Laes," a simple sealing incantation to further solidify spells. Now, Zatanna would be protected, armed, ready. She'd notify a few people of her next location. She had info on Erebus and was looking up more. Counters would be prepped. There was no way she'd fail a third time....

'Third time's a charm," she mumbled, looking at her intricate model of the city, a map for using magic and tracking, watching as mystical lights flew. She'd need sleep, but hopefully results would come soon.
 
Sleep would indeed come for Zatanna Zatara. A physically spent and exhausted body such as hers would need time to rest and recuperate while her magics traced and tracked across the map of Empire City. But her dreams were influenced by demonic manipulations. The bony protrusions that stabbed through her erotically charged nipples. The black ink that soaked into the flesh of her areola's granted a connection that gave her no place to hide during her respite. The only saving grace was her protective magic, her enchantment kept the poor young magician from soaking her sheets with the juices wrought from her pleasure filled slumber.

Like most dreams, when she woke the memory, the sensations she felt would fade away into her subconscious. The handsome fiends that kept her company in her dreams were lost from her recollection by the time she would bat sleep from her weary eyes. She wouldn't recall the carpet of slick tendrils that she lounged upon, how it swirled and coiled around her body while she was dressed in some flimsy black lingerie that would make her blush a deep shade of red. Zatanna Zatara would sleep, a restless, demon lusting sleep that sowed more of their perverse influence into the already cursed girl.

But her waking mind wouldn't remember what her body and manipulated subconscious thoughts couldn't forget. The charms placed upon her, in the form of those adornments sprouting from her firm nipples would poison her mind, haunt her dreams, until she submitted to their deep beckoning silent call.

Perhaps it would be easy for the heroine to push herself out of bed, confident in her abilities. Rise with renewed faith in herself from how she managed to escape the clutches of the cultists the night prior, despite how close they had come. Maybe she felt safe, there in the sanctuary of her hidden base with it's array of magical and technological defenses. Hope might even rise in her chest when she looked upon the map after a full nights rest and saw the tracings of her magic highlighting the next location.

Quick research would deduce it was some sort of clothing shop that peddled its wares to some sort of niche market. Latex and rubber suits, a fetish apparel store that went by the name Supple Threads. Her links discovered that the store had gone belly up and was no longer open for business as of last month. Strangely though, rent had been paid in full for the entire length of the year, so there were no new tenants to speak of. Just an empty store, filled with unsold merchandise, left to collect dust.
 
The beautiful heroine slept the clueless, dreamless sleep of the exhausted. When she rose, she felt strangely well, rested, energized. Her chest still felt tight, her nipples throbbing ever so numbly, and her sex had that slight tingle, but it felt... controlled. Zatanna found herself smiling as she looked down, not seeing the soaked sheets, not even remotely aware of the programming that sneaked into her dreams. The magician should've realized, should've thought that they'd be sneaky, should've considered focusing a bit more on removing the piercings through her nipples. Perhaps if Zatanna had contacted another magician about her situation, sent out information, gotten feedback, she would've considered. But she had that youthful determination and confidence. She may have failed twice before, but she'd learned, and she'd escaped, and she was pushing forward. She was winning, and would finally triumph now that she'd finalized the perfect defense. Overconfidence was many a superheroes' downfall, and it brimmed in Zatanna now.

She did send contacts out, let several other Empire City based heroes and heroines know, reported in to a few organizations. And, in an oddly mature move, she actually reported her next course of action, though with complete confidence: seeking out suspected center of operations for cult. Reported previously, but not a sufficient threat or concern. One heroine should be sufficient, and I have sufficient reason to believe all precautions are put into place. There will be little to no need for backup or reinforcements, unless I am gone for an extended period of time without any further contact. This should be more than easily handled.

This time, the teenager didn't dress in her "costume," having figured that they'd notice that. She instead figured that disguise would be a better move, as much as she could manage it. So a simple pair of jeans would cover her lower half... though they were black. That also meant that instead of her usual skimpy thong, she could wear more supportive boy shorts... which did feel strangely... confining. Probably because she hadn't worn "proper panties" in several days. Nothing to worry about. A loose t-shirt would cover her top, with a protective jacket. The same spell as before over the clothes, though Zatanna already figured that since she was literally going into a clothing store, they'd be ready for it. So, she slyly enchanted her pubic hair with protective auras. No way they could work around that. And sure, she felt some of the pressure before, but what she didn't realize was that the desire had simply burrowed within. Instead of that roaring flame, it smoldered, burning away edges, leaving little remaining.

Thus the confident teenager walked into the supposedly defunct store. Her blue eyes carefully swept, and she already had several protective enchantments up and at the ready. The only way Zatanna figured she could've been more prepared was if her results on the piercings had born more fruit. But time wasn't her friend there, so she'd just have to tell herself it was ignorable... and pretend like it hadn't caused her to skip wearing a bra... or that it made her feel... sexier?
 
The dust caked windows plastered with old newspapers that hid the interior might of given a more experienced hero pause before they boldly entered the abandoned store. Let alone the fact that the lock wasn't magically trapped, and though it was locked, it seemed attuned to Zatanna's hand and just opened for her. The hiss of a hundred candles or more suddenly leaping to life greeted the young magician as she entered. Their eerie appearance might of caused a less confident person to turn and flee. The wavy almost seductive flames that sprouted atop candles of red, black, and purple caused the shadows to dance about with the soft light.

Her insight towards magic wasn't needed to see what was here, at least not on the surface. After her eyes had a second to adjust to the light the presence of demonic influence and the cult that served them was written all over the place. Mannequins that were left behind were dressed in the attire of the cultists, a mundane sort of deception that was difficult to perceive at a casual glance. They all looked so real, dark heavy robes of brown and black. White markings of foul runes and those masks, those grizzly animal masks the Cult of Horns wore sat on top of every supposed mannequin head. Each different from the other with a variety of horns that sprouted intimidatingly outwards in terrifying ways.

One might think that would of been the most unsettling thing to see here, but others, well they didn't bare the curse that Zatanna carried deep in her gut. Posters were all over the walls, some large canvas sized images that you might see dominating a movie theater entrance, others were small, post cared sized affairs, and everything in between those two vastly different sizes could be seen. They depicted demons, handsome and muscular fiendish beings were all around her in vivid detail. They were tall, powerful, imposing images and most all were bared to the flesh, with scant amount of coverage in the form of tufts of fur, belts of skulls, or a simple loin cloth that didn't really hide much. Some had wings and looked falsely angelic, while others had multitudes of heads, arms that were tendrils, or long serpentine tails. They all though had chiseled features that were sharp, and if it wasn't for the bodies that some of them occupied they, the fangs in their mouth, the glow in their eyes, or the sinister color of their skin, they probably would pass as downright appealing to most anyone.

The play of light and shadow drew attentions further into the shop, up a short flight of steps where more candles hissed into being and pushed the darkness back. Up on that elevated level of the shop the shape of clothing hanging from circular metal racks could be seen. Plastic, spandex, rubber in every color that the rainbow might offer was hazily viewed in the dim light. More could be seen on the walls, mixed among the posters of demonic flesh, full body suits of different sorts, sizes, and function hung on full display. A few more mannequins were even dressed in those restrictive body hugging suits and aligned to the sides of the stairs as if welcoming those who ventured up there.

The light pushed deeper and as eyes pierced further inward to the back of the upper level the marking of the cult could be seen upon the ceiling in the center of that room. Beyond that was a pentagram of red that at a glance appeared to be painted on the wall, but it had dimension and there were shackles and chains at it's various tips. Placed to the side and rising into view as two singular white candles were the last to light were portraits that stood off to the each side of the pentagrams form. They were paintings of Zatanna, in the embrace of some dark skinned being whose arms and hands were busily claiming her nude form. His skin had a sheen that mimicked the glow of light that played off the rubbery assortment of clothes all around the quiet candle lit store. She seemed to be enjoying the attention in those portraits, staring upwards loyally into the ebony handsome features of the demonic being that swamped her in his embrace.
 
The hiss had Zatanna tensing. her hand rose, the magic energies already started to flow around it. She'd learned a few simple bolts and blasts, one syllable attacks that barely needed intelligent speech to work. The energy crackled, almost eager to spring forth from the edgy teen into the world around her. Yet she held, held with that training, waiting and watching, anticipating. She could feel the slight eeriness in the air, could almost sense the cultists and their movement. It wasn't hard to determine their little ruse, to see the various mannequins. The bit of the teenager that found everything rather wry and humorous twisted her lips now as she looked toward them. It was some kind of weird, sick joke, wasn't it? Either that or she'd stumbled upon the cultists' costuming department, a thought that both sickened and amused Zatanna in almost equal measure.

Holding the energies aloft like a torch, Zatanna stepped further within. She couldn't quite believe what she saw, the flickering shapes, the strange posters. Was this some sort of weird trap? If so, why go through all this effort? But she could feel her loin pulse at the images. It was like... like walking down an aisle filled with attractive men. Those blue eyes shifted, lingering from picture to picture. Why did they look so appealing? The spell. She barely had to tell herself that; she knew it. Didn't stop the pulsing, kicking arousal. And she felt it swelling in her chest, memory and bone piercing intermingling for some strange sensation within. Great. They clearly know I'm here, so this is obviously a trap. Zatanna raised her hand, muttering a quick warning incantation. lights spiraled from her, a few heading out, to let some nearby heroes know that the cult had definitely moved, or that she suspected something. Again: not a call for help, more of a... status update, and almost magical "tweet' that she sent spiraling out to her "followers" as it were.

But why here? The first location had a history of issues, and people gathered. The second was almost self-explanatory. But a costume shop? nothing here spoke of ill intent or dark origins, beyond some kinky desires. Zatanna let her hand roam along some of the fabric, feeling the unusual material beneath her digits. A bit unusual, sure, but nothing that was malevolent or destructive or anything.

So why here? she kept looking, tracing, seeing confirmation in the shape of pentagram. Soon she saw the portraits, and she flushed, recognizing the painted visage all too easily. "Okay, this is creepy bordering on sad," she mumbled, seeing the various images. They did look like the dream, sort of, she supposed, and she could feel that spike of arousal in her belly yet again. But, well, this was just---she remembered that bit about a ritual or what have you. But again, that lingering question remained on the edge of her thought.

"Why here?" she asked the air, before letting her gaze settle onto the demonic being sweeping her in an embrace. Was that supposed to be Erebus or something? But why give that away? What was the goal here? Zatanna felt her frustration go, and she spun, finally having had enough. Bad enough when this was some actual site of something. This? This was nearly insulting, and she'd had enough being jerked around by these weirdos. She'd leave this place, launch a spell from outside, and then report this dumbass cult to some official heroes. Let them finish up, because Zatanna was done.
 
As she turned for the doorway out of this place the sensation of a rising warmth emerged from the back end of the store where the lights from the candles grew brilliant for a moment. Mannequins moved in a jerky fashion throughout the store, as they became animated. Their gait was uneven, as they clambered about in a seemingly chaotic manner. Some shuffled about on hands and feet with no apparent task beyond adding to the confusion that angered the young magician. Others moved directly towards her, rubbery clothing given life, gloved hands reaching out to take claim of the young girls body.

"Location, location, location, haven't you figured that part out yet my dear little Zatanna." A mans voice issued from among the swarm of distracting mannequins before the robed figure stepped out into view. His black gloved hand was already swiping a line of magic before himself to offer shielding from any archaic assault that she might unleash. "We're drawing a pentagram all across the city." It was a looming tall man with a tiger head mask that sprouted curled ram horns from its edges. "This particular place, well it lacked a certain history. So we took care of that, personally." He spoke in a low and tempered tone as he stayed hidden behind the moving mannequins. "Just last week we held a great sacrifice here, one that stained this place red. A bunch of slaves that well, no one is going to even know went missing took their last breaths here." He kept alert, arcane magics of his own at the ready in the event that she might lash out. "But you should see what answered, it's so glorious. Just look." He pointed one long black gloved finger towards the back of the store.

The zipping, swooshing sounds of rubbery fabric and other exotic materials echoed from the rear of the store where the candles burned brightest. Clothing displayed on walls, upon racks, and shelves swept in a tightening spiral to one single point as if drawn in by an unseen whirlpool. Plastic, spandex, and rubber in the shape of lingerie, corsets, suits, and more assorted types of fetish wear began to pull and twine together in a mound upon the floor. They twisted and curled about in a tight knit fashion as the mound of clothing sprouted upward and took shape as if being worked by some unseen artists hands into a lean and towering figure.

The vibrant colors intermingled in the suddenly emerging sculpture bled away and faded into glistening polished black. Forming shape gained definition as sinew and muscle were quickly chiseled into place over the ebony form taking shape so swiftly. Long dark legs that were devoid of any flaws were carved out before writhing garments shaped hips and chest above them. A curling horn shaped phallic object sprung out from the center of its crotch, long and thick with a barbed head. Fingers sprouted from the ends of long lean arms that rolled out from broad black shoulders. A sleek neck that was long pierced upward out of the muscle laden torso and it surged into an oval that molded into a narrow visage. The pointed chin pulled her gaze upward to a slim well formed nose that split brows that were adorned with small black spikes.

Purple eyes shined into existence and gazed downward upon Zatanna from where the demonic beast stood at the edge of the steps leading up towards the pentagram. It was the spitting image of the creature seen in the painting and the white of its sharp fangs stood out from the pitch black lips that parted as it smiled towards her. Slow and deliberate steps carried the tall stark black demon down the stairs towards the young teen magician. It's hands extended, long fingers and the ashen black nails on the tips of them opened wide and gestured with subtle flicks, beckoning her to come to it.

"Go to it." The cultist spoke from the front of the building as the mannequins moved towards her still, prepared to attempt to drag her to the demon like some sacrificial lamb if she did not go of her own accord.
 
The figures moved, but Zatanna was more than ready for them: "odnu!" she shouted, flicking her head toward one, dismantling it before it got more than a few feet. It was a simple enough spell, but it wasn't as if the figures were all that impressive. They were clearly designed to be expendable, annoying. Zatanna quickly undid another close to her before forming a literal bubble around her, protective energies swirling, easily enough to keep off any of these weaker opponents. Mostly because Zatanna wasn't going to waste any more time dealing with them then she had to: already she was looking for the inevitable demon, or at the very least, cultists.

The voice drew her attention, and she saw the form, even through her protective sphere. Her eyes narrowed as she looked to him, and she was ready to attack, just not immediately. It was better to keep the bubble up for at least the time being, keep the minions away while their boss monologued. She fought the urge to roll her eyes, though she was kicking herself for not noticing what he pointed out. Probably because they'd distracted her with so many other details: piercings and spells and special sites. Yes, she should have figured it out, but she didn't feel more than a temporary flash of annoyance.

One that quickly turned to anger. His comment had her dropping her shield, hands extended out: "Eb deppart yb ruoy nwo kcigam!" she yelled, already working to turn his powers against him, a more subtle snare than she usually used, but one that should work all the same. The mention of seeing what answered had her spinning, hands moving to form another hasty shield before the minions could make another move. Had they made... a clothing golem? There was something almost ludicrous in the idea, enough that Zatanna was fighting the urge to actually laugh, right up until the figure arrived. He's gorgeous! Just look at that perfect skin---and magick, that fucking dick! All those ridges will just make me feel so fucking good, and I'd thought that last one was---WHAT THE HELL AM I THINKING? She'd beaten the spells and the training, right? She'd outthought them. But she felt a stronger than ever surge of arousal hitting her in the lower abdomen. Her chest ached, feeling almost full again, as if her body were swelling in the presence of a perfect demonic specimen.

Instead of immediately going, however, the magician had fallen to her knees. She shivered, trying to gather herself and fight against the sheer arousal that washed over her. It felt like she'd just been presented with the man of her dreams made flesh. Her blue eyes kept locking onto his phallus. The sheer want for that cock felt like something of a need, almost as if by denying herself that, she had ceased breathing. Her magics fizzled about her as the mannequins drew close, but at least it was holding, for the time being, leaving her trembling there, trying to figure out what to do. The shapes were sort of herding her, but it was more---forming a wall, as if literally closing the world off and leaving only Zatanna and---the demon who's going to really take my virginity...? No, no, that's not---I don't want---that-- But she shivered, feeling that oh so familiar hungry ache welling up between her legs. It would be okay though... she'd prepared... right?
 
The cultist let out a low hiss of frustration as his enchanted shield was turned against him by the talented twisting magical workings of Zatanna. He twisted about as the soft glowing shield caved in around him and formed a shell that pinned his body into the shape of a pretzel rod. His struggles soon ceased though as his eyes fell upon their young virginal target as she seemingly knelt on the floor before the steady approach of the lanky ebony fiend. "Yes! Yes!" He called out in joyous rapture.

The animated skeletal movements of the mannequins that remained had indeed formed a barrier behind Zatanna. They crouched on knees, stood at awkward angles, and crawled on all fours just on the edges of her periphery. They creaked, lending a disturbing ambient noise to the room as their leather, rubber, and plastic compositions twisted about. Their presence though was nothing compared to the glowing sheen of black muscle and might that had come to a halt just before the place where the young girl cowered on the floor, lost in the arousing call of the curses power.

It held its hands outward still, palms open to the ceiling as its index fingers and thumbs pinched together. The bony protrusions from the young magicians nipples moved, pulled towards the hands of the demon as if drawn towards them like a magnet. It caused her ample bosom to thrust out and pulled them into sharper mounds of flesh as the sinisterly attractive entity lowered itself to a single knee before her. It's hands moved out, long gaunt fingers curled about the shape of her breasts beneath her shirt. They stroked, thumbs rubbing across the thin protective garment that covered her protruding pierced nubs.

Deep purple eyes that shined like they were illuminated by a black light stared directly into the core of Zatanna's blue eyes. His head tilted from side to side as he stared towards as if considering her worthiness while his hands worked to excite her breasts and snap her shirt open. Thin smooth as silk black stained lips opened slowly, breath that smelled like brimstone, ash, and cinder wafted from his mouth into hers. An oil dark tongue emerged, it's long thin shape was split down the middle as it slithered through the narrow space between its mouth and hers. Soft and smooth the demons lips fell towards Zatannas mouth as its tongue went to dive into her throat.

But the lips didn't stop opening. The jaw unhinged with a near soundless pop. Its head angled on its wiry neck as its still opening mouth moved to hover over Zatanna's head. Its tongue danced in her mouth, wrestled its twin forks about hers while hands mauled at the sensitive shape of her breasts. The mouth loomed over her, opened wide like a snake about to devour something whole. The inky darkness beyond its well parted wall of fangs seemed to enter into the void itself as the creature drew its mouth slowly downward over Zatanna's head.

"You are what he has chosen! You will be his mother! His queen, and his slave! One by one you will be prepared to be his! Give yourself to him!"
 
The momentary flush of success washed over Zatanna, knowing that she'd at least scored a hit against the cultist. And she had some further glory in knowing that, at the very least, someone would know where she was this time, they could potentially find her... rescue her.... Do I want to be rescued? I came here, right? Like... I knew something like this would happen, and I've been getting hornier and hornier. Have I---have I fallen or something? No, no---right?

Yet the girl gasped as fingers pulled her pierced chest toward him. She felt the dark magic pounding directly into her body. Twin peaks of flesh stood fully erect, pulsing with need and blood. The enchantment dug into Zatanna, again drew forth that raw, primal want. No, it wasn't a want, a need; she needed to have demonic attention on her breasts. They ached, seeming to swell slightly, not quite ballooning, but almost shivering with the raw need.

"Trihs enogeb..." she whispered, the words barely passing painted lips before magic dissolved the last bit of covering. As Zatanna expected, having demonic touch upon pierced nipples sent a flash of raw arousal into her, hitting her hard. Her head lolled back as she let out a throaty moan, shivering. She bit her lip, gathered herself, stared forward into eyes. She---she couldn't lose herself. SHe knew that. But it was studying her, working at the dissolved shirt, spreading across her. The girl panted as she stared up at some kind of erotic nightmare, already feeling her pulse pound arousal into her groin. Moisture gathered swiftly, as if it had only been waiting for the call.

Painted lips parted. Zatanna's eyes fluttered closed as she felt him sliding within her. She let him. Knew she was letting him. Told herself she was just waiting for an internal battle, or that she needed to go further, or that she'd turn on the eleventh hour or that someone would save her or---or--- it feels fucking amazing...

The words pounded against her, but Zatanna could already feel her thighs parting. her resistance, such as it was, had been pathetic this time, and she found herself not quite caring as much .She stopped fighting back, just let the creature wash over her, encompassing her...
 
Wide open gaping maw descended down over Zatanna's head, soon enclosing around her slender shoulders. It fell past, over her bared breasts, smooth inky black demonic lips curling and conforming over soft and tender teenage flesh. Some how the serpentine tongue remained lodged in her mouth and wrestled with its long forked ends against the smooth wet velvet of her own tongue. The entire fiendish presence engulfed the kneeling and lost to lust girl and closed in around her as it sucked her body into its depths.

The rubbery texture of the creature tightened around her supple wanting body. Drew lush legs of the young magician out straight and caused her to fall with a thud onto her side. It was as if she was snared within a rubbery prison that was contorting, sealing around her like a vacuum, molding the shape of itself into a second skin that warmed and teased at every nerve it touched. From the outside, it indeed looked like Zatanna had been cocooned in a black rubbery shell that hugged her every curve. There were trace outlines on the exterior that gave hint to the variety of garments that had seemingly merged into the dark bag that smothered her body.

Sensations rose as Zatanna could feel thin straps of slick material worming out from the inside of this pleasure prison. They swept around her arms, drew them taut against her side, pinned them there at biceps, elbow, forearm, and wrist. More wove around her legs, pulling them tightly together in a weaving of rubber lines that curled between and about her athletic legs. Already the diminishing air was quickly becoming apparent. Every inhale that she took only caused the entombing substance to cling more and more against her body. The rubbery skin across her lips began to surge into her mouth as the air diminished to almost nonexistence.

She was spared though from that excruciating demise as a pin point hole formed in the middle of the skin about her lips. It widened, rolling outwards and forming a ridged ring that tucked under her purple lips and forced them to remain parted. Tiny suckers rose up along the interior surface of the swamping cell, they peppered her skin with kisses, indulged her flesh with nibbles, and smothered her pierced nipples with intense inhalations. Not to mention, least of all, the feeling of bulges forming upon the rubbery smooth insides of the bag that rested against the shape of her aroused mound while another began to balloon into being between the cheeks of her ass. Sure, her clothing might protect her, but for how long?
 
How could even a horny teenage girl have prepared for this? Zatanna felt her body assailed from literally all sides, the demonic.... fabric? Seeping against her. Her open mouth continued to remain slack for him. Throat kept contorting, the girl continually swallowing, continually sucking him down, continually allowing, no, almost demanding he access her body through the most open of her orifices. The girl could taste his rawness upon her mouth. That almost spicy, salty flavor just oozed across her tongue, sliding within, addicting her to yet another element. The dank smell of demon, a sulfuric mixture of sex and darkness filled her nostrils with each inhale. Her eyes could only see the dark. So many senses had simply been dominated by him, by it, overwhelmed in its sheer presence.

Yet touch, touch remained so acute. The girl twisted and fell, barely feeling as she touched earth, barely realizing it in her spinning world. Her jeans seemed to almost ripple about her, contorting. She could already feel her sex weeping into her oh so protective boy short panties, as if crying over her choice in protecting what lay beneath. Her body wanted to give her virginity over, to open her womb, to let this corrupting creature into her. She could feel her body thrumming at the mere thought of it. That constant buzz of nerves and desires running like hot wires throughout, electrifying impulses continually shooting pleasure sensations into her brain.

Pierced nipples pulsed, worked their demonic magics.They continued sending that primal desire down into Zatanna: breed; take it in. swell. It called to her need, almost plumping her nether lips, making her interior, her feminine essence, almost hurt with a raw, primal want. And she could feel the rubber simply sliding over it, working her along. Sensations wrapping about her.

Something prodded near her sex and rear. The part of Zatanna now in control screamed, wished that she hadn't left her protective clothing upon her person. But her lips could not move, and she wasn't sure she could utter a spell, even an undressing one, even if they could. She could only contort, berating her past self for daring to deny. Her protections and preparations now seemed to be working against her, as if the creature knew that it could inflict this exquisite torment upon her, simply by leaving things as they were...
 
The demonic form wrapped about Zatanna could sense her quickening pulse, could feel her heart thumping with want and abandonment in her chest as it rolled its tightly clinging form over her virginal flesh. Heat was trapped within the cocooning latex and rubber that surrounded her, growing more stifling by the moment. It built up perspiration on her skin which transferred to the material grasping about her, making her tight confines slick with her own sweat. Patiently it played its slender tongue through the young magicians open throat, felt how badly her body yearned to be taken as tiny little mouths sucked and kissed at the open spaces of her flesh that had been made available.

Shapes hardened and grew firm between her legs and undulating rear. They created a stark and impossible to ignore contrast from the smooth and sweat slimy interior of the fabrics curled snug about their captive. Friction rose as the curved horn of the fiends freshly formed rubber protrusion ground demanding entry beyond the enchanted cloth that kept it from driving down into her tight virgin pink. Another joined, adding counter pressure against firm teenage ass, pressing the jeans down into the split between her shapely cheeks. The fabric of her own attire was forced to grind and rub against her, drawing the girl further into a state of supreme arousal.

Binding straps around her wrists tightened and tugged, moving her hands towards her crotch. They trapped them there where her fingers could feel the ridged cord of rubber that rolled over her sensitive needy mound. But more importantly, they kept her hands tight to her jeans, letting the tips of her fingers discover the zipper to her own clothing, silently urging her to undo its protection and invite the demon to enter, to take her.

The tongue withdrew from her mouth at almost the exact same moment, leaving her lips parted by the steely rubber ring that had offered her a means to breath in precious air. It swirled down and around her neck, circling around the slender shape, but not squeezing. Instead lingering there like a garrote that threatened to choke any resistance out of the girl, even though it knew she was running desperately low on those reserves of defiance.

In the background, seemingly far removed from Zatanna's realm of erotic bliss another cultist emerged from the cluster. He wore the mask of a goat and quickly worked magics that countered the spell that held his companion in place. Once freed the pair returned their attentions to the encased and squirming form of the virginal sacrifice their lord had beckoned into his grasp. She needed to be drawn to the pentagram, her juices when she climaxed again would coat it, soak it, and empower the hold that Erebus was claiming over her even further.
 
Why isn't this thing just fucking me already? I ache so fucking bad. Dammit, I know it's a spell or something messing with my mind but I just don't caaaaaaare. I NEED it! My body's aching for it, on fire, burning, shocking, magick it's worse than anything I've ever felt--- Poor Zatanna really had set herself up for this. Within moments that demon had wrenched the dark-haired magician into a state of near sexual agony. Tension mounted as her already tense nerves continued to take in that raw sensation. Tongues and mouths and sensations drew all over the writhing form of the teenage superherione. Each one sent new pulses rocking throughout her body, new nerves to fry or sensations to wrench into her inexperienced frame. If poor Zatanna had only taken the time to tend to her needs, to feed her hunger with fingers and toys, or even to seek out a nervous boy to twist her legs around, perhaps she'd have been ready for it. But yet again, her own innocence worked so deliciously against her, writhing the young heroine in the tight contents.

Tightness. Such tightness about her. It drew her clothes against her, running those protective garments against her lower half. The raw sensation of cloth against too sensitive sex continued to fuel Zatanna's sexual near-madness, making the magician writhe and twist, pulling against the confines that kept her tightly caccooned. Continual pressure promised and teased: Just lower the guard. Let us in. We'll give you what your body craves. Demon and girl not quite remembering that oh-so-powerful enchantment Zatanna had lain upon herself, that last little bit of will shot by a nearly indomitable superheroine, something that should have worked... had anyone taken her seriously?

The moment the being drew her fingers to her jeans, Zatanna worked. She zipped and yanked, almost desperately trying to peel off the garment, moving as if they were on fire. In truth, it felt almost worse to her, and she shuddered a moan of satisfaction as the fabric unwound, leaving her with just a pair of cotton boy shorts. The heat was just unbearable, almost as if he intended to cook her in her own sexual juices. For it certainly ran freely, Zatanna almost glazed in it as she lay there.

Sweet air sucked into Zatanna, her body arching again. Her head spun, almost drunk on the sudden influx on something to heavily denied. She let out a trembling breath, swearing she could almost see the curls of steam that were surely parting from her painted lips. She should form words... but to beg for insertion or to cast a spell, Zatanna didn't know. She rolled her hips ,body begging the demon to finish what it had so effortlessly started.
 
The dark robed pair of cultists swept by the squirming shape of Zatanna ensnared within the seemingly self heated and lubricated confines of the ensnaring black latex, rubber, and spandex cocoon. Their path led them straight up the short flight of steps where their gloved hands pushed the circular racks of clothing away to the side as they cleared out the middle of the floor. It didn't take them long as the pair worked with magic and hands to prepare for the ritual about to take place. With the debris shoved aside they each moved to the ring bordered black stained wooden pentagram leaned up against the rear wall. They dragged it forward, the resounding thud of its weight slamming against the tile floor spoke of the objects mass. With a grunt of effort the duo tugged it into the center of the floor and quickly made sure the shackles and chains were untangled and free of obstruction.

Small slivers of cloth shot out of the ebony dark bag, latching around posts and anchoring around rails that framed the steps. With it's captive held writhing about within its womb like prison it continued to assault her most vulnerable body, relishing in the corruption of her flesh as it began to drag itself up over the ridged shape of the steps. The slim tongue unleashed from her neck, slithered across her chest and soon found its forked ends snaring about the ample base of her breasts. They coiled like twine and then squeezed inward, causing the orbs to puff up like swelling balloons and turn pale flesh a deep shade of crimson.

Tendrils released after it had dragged its shape up over the stairs, they shot forward again and latched onto the structure of the circular pentagram that lay flat upon the tiled floor now. It rotated about, turning its captive around like she was stuck in a dryer as its encapsulating shape stretched and morphed to conform to the movements of its prisoner. The hardened pair of curved phallic horns rubbed eagerly against the revealed tight briefs that stood as the last line of physical defense against her most intimate of places. The pinhead tip prodded at the small slit in the briefs, nudged it aside and fit its way inside to rub over the pink lips of her sex. The one stroking heat against her ass likewise shifted, burrowed under the top hem of her hugging briefs and settled its hard rubbery shape between firm globes of ass.

Quickly Zatanna was drawn over the wooden beams that comprised the pentagram until she was laying in the center of its shape. Air rushed in to touch her bared flesh and breath coolness against her overheated sweat slicked body as the entombing wrap of cloth began to partially unravel and shift into a new state of being. She was drawn back into a kneeling posture by the rough handling of the demonic ensnarement. Legs were flung wide apart beneath her as straps of spandex and rubber latched around her ankles and calves and anchored against the rim of circle that bordered the pentagram. Hands were drawn out in front of herself, palms pressed down atop of wooden beams as more cords of the demons morphing shape wrapped about her wrists and tugged them where it wanted to.

The vestiges of her cocoonment fell slowly away, leaving her bound by straps within the center of the pentagram as the mass of garments that comprised the demons being puddled around her body. Its purple eyes rose up within the dark folds of cloth beneath her now freed head as its face began to emerge and gain definition. There was a slice and rip as Zatanna felt the pair of horned demonic cocks press against the fabric of her briefs, tearing them away from her body and letting them dangle freely from her outstretched legs while the pair of shadowy robed cultists looked on from the fringes of flickering candle light.
 
They were moving. Zatanna could feel that. Could feel her body shifting slightly amid the cocoon as they rocked. It registered ever so slightly through the sexual haze that had become her awareness. The girl knew perhaps she should aid, or at least lay still. But remaining inert had simply become impossible. Zatanna had to writhe and twist and pull and arc and undulate constantly. She kept trying to drag her heated flesh against the demonic implements that teased it. Her chest thrust out. Her hips ground down. Every bit of her seemed determined to do their part in aiding the friction upon her form, craving that sweet touch and the sweeter release that would soon be following.

Another throaty moan rumbled out as the cloth teased her breasts. Zatanna felt them swelling, a slight drizzle of something seeming to leak from about her. She wasn't quite being milked, wasn't quite full, but the raw desire mixed with black magic mixed with biology simply drew arousal up in that form. She could feel the slight damp, just a faint copy of the moisture rising from between her thighs. So much sensation kept assailing her that, by now, they'd almost blended.

A shift. Something kissed against the heat between her legs. Zatanna gasped, body bowing as best it could, before adjusting, letting the demonic things slide within her. She knew, dimly, that she should try to stop it from seizing her prized virginity. That she should resist. That she should be closing her legs or jerking away. But instead she was nearly thrusting herself against it, bodily begging to be taken.

A shift, and air hit her body. moisture clung to Zatanna as she knelt there, pinned. Swollen breasts hung below her, looking almost more like udders than bits of human flesh. Jeans had pooled near her knees and thighs, not fully shredded. The dangling bits of the least sexy pair of panties she'd worn for this were still clinging to her. Her thighs had already been soaked, indeed, much of her almost seemed to have that glaze, as if she'd been pre-baked. even her dark hair hung almost limp, as if it too had given way, as if all parts of the superheroine had seized fighting against what was soon to happen.

A slice and a rip, and Zatanna groaned again. She rolled her hips, body speaking that primitive language while her mind swam in sensation, ready to be taken to the depths she so desperately craved.
 
From the dancing shadows around the circular pentagram the pair of cultists watched from opposite flanks of the bound and kneeling young heroine. More rubber, spandex, and plastic swept around her legs, coating her from calve to ankle, to boot in their bindings, forcing her legs to remain spread and taut against the ground beneath her. Garments shifted and rippled under her in a pool of black mass that seemed to be converging beneath her parted legs and raised hips. The covering demonic form beneath her gazed deeply into her eyes from where its handsome alluring features had pushed up out of the conglomeration of garments surging beneath her. It's tongue running out of its open curved and smiling mouth and tracing upwards to the encircling forked ends of its thin slimy tongue as they squeezed and pumped around the tightening bases of her twin orbs.

"You will experience such pain and pleasure." The cultist to her left spoke from the shadows that he lingered in. "Such delights of the flesh." The other said quietly from the other side of her kneeling form, his goat like mask barely visible in the soft light that bordered her. "You will be made ready for him. Body, mind, and soul."

Sharp and sudden flashes of pain wrought across the bared back of Zatanna as the two horned tendrils of demonic cock had elongated and moved behind her. They struck at her now, whipping against the skin of her exposed pale back as a dozen or more candles began to hover upwards from the floor. They bobbed about as if being carried upon the swirling tides of an unseen oceans slowly rolling surface as they drew closer to her. Lashing of thin strands of rubbery whips continued to rake and snap against the back of her helpless body. Her protections kept them from cutting flesh, but red lines streaked across ivory skin as they whipped her relentlessly.

Soon the candles were twisting, turning, dumping hot red, black, and purple wax down over the swollen shapes of her breasts. Streams spilled down her back, ran over the counters of her muscles and conformed to curves of her body as they began to coagulate. While these fresh torments assailed her an upward spiraling mound of wound together clothing began to rise from beneath her legs.

It hardened, gained rigidity and further girth as the mass swelled upwards until the narrow top pressed up against the heated pink of her sex. Lips were parted as the narrowed head of that phallic mound of rubbery substance pushed inward, spread her virgin lips wider as it rose further, piercing into her. It bulged along its circumference, pulsed with unnatural life from its slender head all the way down to its ungodly wide roots. Soon it grew to large to fathom accommodating and it halted its ascension with just the barest of its upper peak spreading her sex. It lingered there, its form throbbing against the young heroines clenching sex. The sheer mass of it had lifted her hips upward, leaving her practically seated upon a throne of demon cock. There was room to fit more, to stretch pink lips of virgin sex wide open. To fill her until she was beyond full.

She just needed to apply the proper downward pressure.
 
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Something teased her already aching breasts. Zatanna felt more of herself drizzling out, as if the demon's lashing were stealing more of her essence. She moaned, eyes pinching closed as she gave way to sensation yet again. The girl knew she should be fighting, but nothing remained of that drive besides that very simple thought: she should be doing this. But... but why?

Whimpering, Zatanna opened her eyes looking toward the cultists. A strange mixture of revulsion, anger, and arousal spiked iwthin her upon that sight. The superheroine still wanted to strike out again them, years of training and upbringing instantly marking them as "evil" and "wrong." The horny teenage girl saw two beings that could potentially or actually have cocks, cocks that could fill her drooling sex, could shove into her mouth, could reward her and satiate her rising hunger. But the part of her that was being trained as a demonic vessel felt that almost disgust: ugh, humans, do weak and disgusting, their bodies fragile, their cocks weak and pathetic. Give me a long, ridged demonic cock that can really worked my tight little pussy---the thoughts fluttered through, implantation weaving into reality so that Zatanna couldn't truly differentiate them.

Something slashed, and she gasped, jerking, eyes widening. The raw heat should've blazed pain against her, but she could almost immediately feel her slightly rewired body translating it into pleasure. As pink lines rose up upon white skin, the heat seeped further within. More and more arousal drooled forth from Zatanna's sex, soaking her panties to her body, letting the incoming demon almost glide within. She could feel that inner hunger throbbing strong, roaring at her from the inside, demanding release. So intense was it that she almost missed the incoming candles.

Oh fuck yes---they've seduced a magician before--- because Zatanna had so frequently joked that magicians loved playing with candles. She'd teasingly dropped some wax upon her body before, and she could recall the demon at the secret club doing the same. The thought made her shiver, and she soon found herself crying out as heat coursed down her chest. She screamed in joy as the sensations heated her body once more, streaking dark colors over her skin, making her chest seem to shiver and swell all the more.

Something prodded from below.... was that---a demonic cock? She dared glance down, barely seeing through the haze of pleasurable pain that assailed her senses. Yes, yes there it was, pointed against her still partially covered, still protected sex. She felt the heat pulsing just outside, beckoning her, a siren call to simply let her hips fall. The limbs loosened just a little--- yes, yes, yes, yes, TAKE ME, DAMMIT, TAKE ME---no,no,no,no, I can't---it's a demon---that's wrong I---YES, NO!--- The magician whimpered, frozen by her indecision, the warring parts of her brain screaming at her. Her eyes sought the demon's, as if to beg him for aid, or even to take the decision from her... help her decide her fate, ease herself into---into this? Or did she---she should escape, right? what---what was she doing...?
 
Gazing slights of glowing purple met Zatanna's blue befuddled eyes. The angular sharp features of the demons black twisted head surged upward, stretching ebony stained garments that clung to its face like it was rising out of a pool of inky ooze. The webbing of rubber, plastic, and other sorts of material fell away, snapping back into the writhing mass of fetish clothing that swirled beneath her body. The head swirled upward supported by a serpentine neck that was but one long flowing thick tendril that was rooted in the puddle of black surrounding her. Tongues that were snared about the bases of her breasts tightened further, as if demanding that they spray whatever cream they contained out into the demons open maw that hovered before them.

Still it's deep purple gaze pierced into hers as the whips cracked against her back. Their thin rubbery strands snapped around her waist, clung for moments before pulling away to draw back for their next assault. Lashes stung across the bulging curves of the spread apart cheeks of her ass, the briefs that still remained further shredded by the whipping tendrils. Hot wax still trickled in streams, heating flesh and running in rivulets that cooled before being shattered by the impact of a tendril slapping across her body. Her denim jeans stretched and ripped as rubbery plastic hooks and hands popped up, snagged into them, and yanked them further down until her ass bobbled freely.

Something unseen slapped between the rent apart pale muscular cheeks of her ass, and it stayed there as if glued in place against the tender clenching ring of muscle that was the doorway into her sphincter. Heat rose against that tight hole, heat that made the searing wax showering over her body feel like a cool rain. It spread out, marking flesh, leaving a dark ring of pure black in the shape of a perfect circle that was centered around the aching hole of the young heroines tight star shaped ring of muscles. White streaks painted outward from the black hole, their bony white forms sprouting from the anal entrance of Zatanna. They curled and spread out over the globes of her firm and taut ass cheeks, leaving the mark of the cult stained upon the flesh.

Seductive whispers sounded in her ear, or was it her head. The murmuring of the demons mind, of its thoughts, of its desires to spear into her virgin sex. To fuck her into a state of utter surreal pleasure. "Let your guards go, press down and give yourself to me." The words and promises seemed to speak silently into her mind from the gaze so rigidly locked with her own. "Bliss, pure sexual bliss awaits you, surrender to your fate." The pulsing quacking head of the mountain of bulging erection that had manifested beneath her parted legs pressed up against helpless virgin lips, waiting for her to descend around its mass.
 
A squeezing on her chest made Zatanna cry out. Her body shivered and shook with a tremor. Muscles tightened as raw joy started to shoot through her. She knew the sensation, knew what it meant: she should be orgasming. The sheer, raw pleasure coursing through her chest should have made the magician cum. Perhaps not hard, probably not spraying her liquid want into the demon from her sex. But liquid did indeed drizzle out from her chest, milked from her body to the awaiting being below. And another blow was struck against Zatanna's essentially defeated willpower. That raw desire, that want, just felt so exquisite. The suppressed orgasm spread its poison throughout her body, seeping into her limbs, letting is pure joy melt throughout her veins.

So when blows hit the rest of her, she only cried out in joy. The raw heat felt as if it were boiling her insides from without. More and more liquid drizzled from her. Her sex wept with desire; her body produced sweat to cool; even her breasts continued to leak a last female fluid. She could feel each blow, shredding her protective garments. The jeans likely would've held, but they'd already been yanked low, fallen from protection, and he shredded them even further from their position. The panties simply hadn't been enchanted enough to withstand direct contact, particularly not when their owner was more concerned about how she wasn't cumming than what was happening to her writhing frame.

Something pressed against her ass. Zatanna let out a long, wordless scream as she felt it pushing along her, the raw heat making her see stars. She'd thought what happened earlier had burned, had hurt, but this surpassed it. The girl shivered even worse than before, her sex clamping as she felt liquid seeping forth: even Zatanna couldn't tell if the sheer shock had made her wet herself, or if her arousal simply produced that much. It hardly mattered, as her body quivered as though she were electrocuted. Everything jostled at an almost worrying pace.

Suppressed orgasm number 2.... and not a small one.

Whispers hit her while she panted, not sure if she hated herself for the spell or was glad for its protection. Maybe... maybe she could get through this? He clearly wanted her to take him herself. Her trembling body wanted to ever so much. She could feel her legs buckling, her lips starting to kiss the phallus even through covering. The not-climaxes had pushed her just a little more, let her take just the head of him. Hips swirled, almost as if to tease the tip of his cock. She heard the words, felt them digging into her mind, insisting. her hips were grinding down, but not quite thrusting, not quite impaling herself. Suppressed sensation seemed to make her resistant, even as her body had started its work, making it clear that impalement was the only solution.
 
Patience, the demon festering beneath her had plenty of that trait. There was so much fresh young flesh to be savored, it focused attentions on what was offered and intended to wear down the resolve of the prize squatting over its mountain of a cock. As creamy milk bubbled up out of her marked nipples the black lips of the demons mouth parted and fell over one of those tasty balloon shaped treats. It gorged itself, sucking over the deep red flesh of her constricted breast. Hot fiendish breath poured over the shape, pulled back with an inhale and surrounded the stiff pierced peak like it was a straw to be drank from. Words still flowed from its mind and sought to poison her thoughts, singular words and simple phrases that reflected the promise of what giving in would be like.

"Fuck me. Impale yourself. Lower your magic. You need this."

Whipping tendrils lashed, alternating now in ferocity. Hard licks of the snapping lengths cracked over the firm globes of her ass, struck softer between the cheeks where the newly painted mark of the cult was emblazoned upon the pristine peachy cream color of her ass. They snapped, twirled about her quivering body, lingered for moments offering her skin a gentle sensation before drawing away to strike at her again. "This night, you will be tamed, broken, fucked until you are RAW." Slithering straps that held her body so deliciously spread out gave suggestive downward tugs, pushing her virgin lips to accept the peaked head of demonic cock that she practically was seated upon.

Candles rotated and swirled about her as magic moved them with unseen hands. They drew closer to her skin, tilting and pouring hot arousing wax upon the teenage heroines helpless body. They ran in streams down between the cleavage of her tortuously squeezed breasts while the demons maw alternated its milking suckling between her orbs. "We have, all night. Let your desire build. Fuck me." A purple candle moved towards her navel, its royal color spilled over her taut and muscular belly, drizzled hot want downward in a sheet that spread and framed her pink parted lips of sex. Dark black wax poured directly down the split of her widely spread apart ass. It mingled with her sweat, diminished her body's attempts to cool herself and renewed flaming desire. "Release your magics, and release your want, I have all night to break you down, then you are ours, for eternal pleasures await."
 
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