Chapter Text
On the night of reckoning, Dylan slipped into his own apartment like a burglar.
Though... not a very competent one. He still wasn't anywhere near used to his own chest, which had been growing ever since the incubus he'd summoned, Zin, had cursed him exactly a year and a day ago. Just yesterday his breasts had swelled well beyond ordinary human proportions, to the point where he'd had to half-drown himself in a hoodie big enough to fit an entire family just to walk home without anyone noticing. He kept overbalancing, and could hardly stand without keeping a hand out to brace himself on a wall.
Luckily he hadn't had to walk far, since M, the man he'd been staying with in the meantime, had offered to order him a taxi. He stumbled through the main doors, drew his hood even lower over his face, and ducked into the elevator as fast as he possibly could. Even with the doorman asleep as usual, Dylan barely managed to make it to his own front door without tripping down the stairs and waking up the entire complex.
From there, he made a beeline for the book. The page that would resummon the incubus was already earmarked. Dylan worked feverishly, his pussy throbbing in anticipation, his hands shaking so badly he could hardly draw the magic circle. He left out the salt entirely. Its only purpose was to contain the demon within the circle, and he didn't want that. He wanted Zin to be able to do whatever he wanted to him.
Finally, all that was left was to wait. Last time, he'd summoned Zin at midnight because... well, when else was he supposed to do it? He watched the last seconds tick away, took a deep breath, and finished the spell.
Smoke billowed up from the sigil on the floor. His insides fluttered as it started to coalesce, turning a deep red as it solidified into the shape of a man. Tall and broad, his skin glossy and, Dylan remembered, smooth and hot to the touch. It went on for what seemed like forever, from the tips of his toes to the finely sculpted angles of his face. Ink-black hair tumbled down his shoulders, and a pointed tail curled behind him.
Without ever consciously deciding to, Dylan fell to his knees. He kept his shoulders back, letting his breasts jut out as he presented himself to the incubus. "Master..."
Zin stood over him, his eyes fixed on his bulging chest. Dylan could almost feel the heat of his gaze. His nipples stiffened. "Look at that," the demon purred. "I knew you wouldn't be able to stay completely flat, but you didn't even try to fight it. Did you, slut?"
"No, master."
"You were so desperate for cock, you didn't care what it was doing to you. Did you?"
Dylan shook his head, lowering his eyes to the floor as his face flushed.
"What does that make you? Hm?"
"I'm a dirty girl," Dylan whispered.
"I can't hear you."
"I'm a nasty girl," he said, his cunt pulsing with shame. "A dirty slut who can't control her horny pussy."
"That's right." Zin stepped closer, so that he was standing over Dylan with his hardening cock just inches from his face. He stared at it, his mouth falling open as he let himself go slack, until drool dribbled down his chin. "Look at you. So much more honest, now. You know exactly what you want. What you're good for. Don't you?"
"I'm your toy!" Dylan raised his head so that he could look up into the demon's face. "I... I need to be your toy." He hadn't planned to say it, but the thought of enduring another year away from Zin was already making his insides churn. "I can't do that again," he admitted. "The waiting. I need to belong to you, master. Please..."
"I can only manifest in your world for so long," said Zin. "And a human like you could not survive the plane where I came to be. However..." He smirked and produced a scroll from thin air with a flourish. "There is a solution."
Dylan took the parchment eagerly and started to read. By the second sentence, he was already squirming. It wasn't very long—there was only one concession listed for each of them. Zin was forbidden from preventing Dylan from speaking his true name and releasing himself from the demon's magic by any means. Dylan's end of the bargain was even simpler. Any command the incubus gave him, he would obey.
"I have wanted to escape my home plane for some time," the incubus explained. "But to do that, I need power. As a cubus, I take it from willing humans. This can allow me to escape for a few hours at a time... but with a constant source, I can extend it even farther. These days, I only need to return to the pit once every seven days."
"I'm not the first," Dylan realized.
"No." The incubus smirked. "I've been establishing myself in another world for some time. Its boundaries are weaker than your own, and its inhabitants are... less prone to dissecting new and strange phenomena."
He stroked the contract with his thumb, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. "Would I have to stay there forever?"
Zin snorted. "Of course not. Do you know how hard it is to find a thrall willing to agree to that? My name would act as your bridge—speak it in this reality, and it will take you to me. Speak it there, and it will bring you home." He gave Dylan a sly sideways look, like he already knew the answer even before he asked, "Well? Are my demands too much for you?"
Dylan flushed. He knew he probably shouldn't say it, but... "I don't care what your demands are. I would have done anything."
"Not a very wise thing to tell a demon, you know."
"I know." Dylan accepted a raven feather quill from Zin and signed his name right under the demon's. "But I was wondering if..." he trailed off, swallowing a surge of embarrassment.
"There's really no need for that," Zin pointed out. "I always know what you want."
"Then...?"
"I'm still going to make you say it."
Dylan looked away, fighting the urge to cover his face. "Could we pretend I did? That... that there weren't any safeguards, when I gave myself to you?"
Zin's grin sharpened. "My dear," he purred, "I wouldn't want it any other way."