Suddenly: memory.

The devil is in the details, Vendra. No, really, he’s in the details, don’t you roll your eyes at me!

Vendra didn’t know why this specific recollection came to her mind right now. Most demons she’d interacted with had very little sense of humour, but Chirosteron loved his jokes, and there had been plenty he’d shared with her, over the years. It was uncommon enough for a witch and an incubus to become friends… of a sort… but by now, their relationship was very well established.

Vendra supposed that in a way, of course she was thinking about him. She was about to summon him, after all, and to ask a favour no less! She needed an ingredient for a spell that would better protect the Coven against demonic incursions, and in a fit of cosmic irony, some of the ingredients were much easier to procure in the infernal plane. He had been kind enough to agree to get some for her, in exchange for a favour.

That answer didn’t fully satisfy her, however, because there was no real need for sentiment. He would arrive, or he would not. He would be helpful, or not. That was their arrangement, and had been from the start.

When rumours had started circulating of an incubus that was friendly to the witches and their cause, she hadn’t bought them at face value, of course. She had taken every precaution she knew… which, at the time, had been very few, actually. The first thing Chirosteron did after being summoned was point out all the errors she’d made in the ritual, which would have allowed him to kill her, if he’d been hostile.

Whether she liked his sense of humour or not, there was no denying the fact that she was a better summoner because of him.

The devil’s in the details, Vendra.

Details indeed. The most important of which was something that transcended simple preparation, though you did have to be careful with the placement of your sand circle and the usage of the ritual candles. The paramount ingredient to safely and correctly summon an incubus was meditation.

Incubi were concepts as much as they were entities, and so your relationship to them depended in good part on how you conceptualised them. Summoning them from a correct state of mind could influence the unspoken rules of the interaction.

Of course, she was summoning a friend, so there was no big danger here, but well. Better safe than sorry.

Meditation meant clarity, and clarity alone. If your mind wandered, your circle would slip, and you’d end up with a real mess. Vendra’s mind had been a mess for years, but she knew how to swim free of that. She had learned a lot from Chirosteron, but nothing more valuable than the lesson of how to make herself small, invisible to all the chaos in her own head.

The deeper into trance she went, the closer the very concept of Chirosteron became, allowing him to transcend from the infernal plane to the mortal plane. As always, Vendra was too deep in trance to tell when the exact transition happened, but eventually she was snapped from her stupor by a gentle scraping sound.

As if surfacing from underwater, she looked up to see Chirosteron in her reading chair, which she had placed at the center of the circle of sand.

Despite her fierce commitment to stoic pragmatism, Vendra had to admit, as always, that Chirosteron was handsome. That was part of the whole incubus package, after all. He was sculpted and wiry with muscle that he didn’t need to maintain. She found it easier to appreciate his looks now that she was still resurfacing from a deep trance.

“Vendra! You look… delightfully comatose this evening,” he said, leaning back in the chair.

Still trying to shake off the last remnants of the trance, Vendra could only manage a simple “Hey.”

The rules said she should offer him something: hospitality mattered, even to demons. Vendra had no idea why. What use did a demon have for food, when it didn’t even need to eat? But she had long learned to accept the world for what it was, often ugly and always arbitrary.

With some difficulty, she picked up a dried fig from a bowl, and tossed it to him. He caught it and then put it in his pocket in a fluent motion. They exchanged a smile.

“Have you been busy?” she asked.

Chirosteron rolled his shoulders. “I suppose. Not for your kind of busy.”

“Did you bring me the thing?”

Chirosteron produced a vial from thin air. “You’re welcome,” he said, theatrically.

She took it, careful not to let her fingers brush his. He made a show of noticing, pouting his lip. “You wound me, Vee. Physical contact is not against our summoning rules. We’re old friends, aren’t we?”

“It’s not against the rules, correct,” she said, carefully stowing the vial away. “Doesn’t mean we have to do it, though.”

He slouched even deeper into the chair, arms dangling. “So, what’s the occasion? Need to poison a rival? Brew up a little mind control?”

She shook her head. Expect an incubus to have a fixation with mind control. His mind lived in the gutter. “It’s for a spell. The one I told you about, for the coven.”

He clicked his tongue. “So, work. That’s a shame. I was hoping you’d finally take my advice and do something fun with your talents.”

Vendra rubbed her eyes, trying to shake off the last of the grogginess. “I’m not sure I share your idea of fun, Chirosteron.”

“That’s because you’re never willing to let go and have fun! In fact, this is how you’re gonna pay me back. You’re gonna partake in my idea of fun, for a change.”

“Okay…” Vendra said, hesitantly. “What does that entail, exactly?”

She’d never seen Chirosteron smile this brightly. “Here, feel this.”

With an affectation of casual friendliness, Chirosteron reached out and hefted one of Vendra’s breasts in his demonic hand.

The sudden anger that overtook Vendra was enough to shock the very last of the meditative trance from her system. What the fuck?!? Everyone knew incubi were obsessed with sex, of course, but Chirosteron had never been improper or predatory towards her, even as the rules of their summonings had relaxed over the years. What was he thinking? Was he so delusional that he thought she was going to exchange sexual favours for spell ingredients??

Enraged, Vendra made to slap his hand away, but her movement was slow, and before she could make contact, his other arm was in the way. Not just to block her off, but to touch her other breast as well.

”See what I mean? You have fantastic tits for a witch. Like, seriously, never seen a coven member this stacked. And yet you're the most repressed witch I know. What's the point of power if you don't eroticise it a little? Come on, old friend, have some fun with me!”

"Stop immediately. I do not want this. This isn't fun for me!" She was trying to reach simultaneously for the voice of a summoner and the voice of a betrayed friend, and somehow failing to pull off either, all the while feebly trying to remove his hands from her breasts. What...

”It's alright, Vendra. What you're feeling right now is just a natural consequence of having such a busty fucking rack. It's bound to be sensitive to touch, and sensitivity tends to overwhelm a mind... especially a sexually repressed mind. It slows it down...”

He was toying with her nipples now, but what was much more worrying to Vendra was her lack of reaction, there was something about his touch that was hard to qualify or define, something that one might almost call...

Compelling...

”Your boobs are just too large to ignore,” Chirosteron said. ”You might think this applies to others. Of course people are gonna ogle you for your amazing attribute all the time. But! Fun fact, it applies to your mind as well. Tits so big, when they get stimulated, well... they just take too big a share of your perception. Everything else sorta starts to get...” he kneaded her tits together. ”... crowded out.”

No, that was as false as it was fucking offensive! Vendra was smart, and he knew it. He’d said it himself so many times! Besides, what right did he have to insult her intelligence while he was literally groping her without her consent? This was… beyond the pale. It would have hurt a lot more, if she wasn’t so inflamed by outrage. Sure, he was a demon, but… they were friends… had been… so, why??

It felt so icky in a gendered and misogynistic way too, so what if she had big tits? Why the fuck would that mean that she was dumb?

She did have to admit there was a strange quality to those two words, though.

Crowded out.

The emotions she felt were very real, but they were also… muffled.

“Stop,” she said, lifting her arms ineffectually as she attempted to push him away.

“You’re still saying it,” he said, “but listen to how you’re saying it.”

Listen to…

She said it again, “stop”, and it definitely sounded flat. Not the most impressive delivery everrrrr. But. That was just the daze of her recent trance, which he had used to catch her unawares, so that he could sexually assault her.

Granted, it should have fully faded by now, and its effects were almost never this profound, butttt…

But but but but. Bubbly butt. Bouncy boobs and bubbly butts.

No. Noooo…

“See what I mean?” Chirosteron said. “To your human udders, it doesn’t really matter who they’re being touched by, or what your conscious mind has or hasn’t consented to. Their existence is far more linear, they respond to input with an output. Your tits are truly enormous for a human witch, seriously, you could give some stiff competition to some of my succubi colleagues. Hehe, stiff… anyway. Large boobs means large input means large output. It’s science, Vendra. You’re a titslut.”

The humiliating sting behind her words gave her a bit of clarity, almost a second wind. She balled her hands into fist and tried to knock the demon’s hands away, but she was so sluggish. Sluggish in thought and sluggish in motion. Body and mind. Body doesn’t mind. Body not mine. No…

He was pinching her nipples. She gave a little girly gasp at that, and mewled despondently when his kneading grip sunk into her malleable titflesh.

Her body betrayed her, arching slightly into his touch before she could stop herself. The sensation was too much, and sadly it was not just a problem of quantity, it was also too good. Her mind stuttered, struggling to hold onto the outrage that had flared moments before.

She tried to push him again, but her arms seemed to actively resist her will.

Resist.

The more she resisted, the more her body seemed to lean into him, as if her own flesh was conspiring against her. The slick heat rapidly accumulating between her thighs was impossible to ignore. He was literally coaxing the wetness out of her without even touching her sex. Earth and hell, that made her sound like…

Like a titslut.

Vendra’s knees gave out and she lost her balance, although to her it felt more like the floor very rudely racing up to meet her cheek. It was even ruder because, in so falling, her body was now draped over the circle of sand.

Uh oh.

“Oh, Vendra,” Chirosteron said, and she heard him get up out of her reading chair. “That’s very hospitable of you.”

“Nnn… nnnuhhh…”

He daintly placed one foot against her shoulder blades and propelled himself over the circle, using her like a makeshift bridge. He was light about it, almost courteous, the fucker.

“Excuse me. Coming through.”

Well. Now he was free. Free free free, such a weird word, she’d freed an incubus because she was a ditzy idiot who only thought with her big bouncy boobs, wasn’t she?

He crouched down beside her and turned her over onto her back with one hand. Effortlessly, really. Free of the circle, he was so strong.

Incubi were the archetype of male sexual appeal, and she supposed that must come with a healthy dose of big muscles. Big muscles and big boobs. If big boobs made her dumb, why did big muscles not make him dumb? Maybe she was just too dumb to figure it out…

“There we go.” He pushed her arms out of the way, smiling. “Now, where were we.”

His fingers went to the laces of her bodice and worked them loose with a deftness that seemed supernatural to her. Maybe it was, this was a demon after all, but maybe it was because Vendra felt so slooow. Titslow, titslut, tits now exposed to the air as he contemplated them with unfettered sexual hunger.

“How do you even focus on anything during the day when you need to keep these bazonkers tucked away?”

He bent down and started licking the curves of her tits, occasionally moving to suckle gently at her nipples. His hands just could not get enough, digging deep into her weak flesh as it bent to accommodate his touch.

His sucking was unhurried, unlike the reaction it solicited from her body. Body and mind, body doesn’t mind, body not mine, a bungle of nerves and boobs and butt that squirmed and wreathed weakly as pleasure was imposed upon it.

Titslut thought slow, titslow, thinking with her tits which were now so so so so so overwhelmed…

She squeezed her thighs together. Horny…

“Nnnh,” Vendra said.

“I have wanted to hear that for years,” he said.

Years.

The word found some purchase in her titslow brain. Vendra stared up at him, trying to understand. He sat astride her hips now, in no hurry whatsoever as he had his way with her tits.

He traced one finger along the edge of her loosened bodice. “You took an absurd amount of patience, Vee. Just to be clear, the ingredient I gave you is the right one. I have no ill will towards you and your coven, quite the opposite, I just wanted you. And you were never going to agree while you could think your way around every desire you’ve ever had.”

The expression on her face must have been obvious, because he shrugged. “Yes, yes, that’s still a gross violation of consent, but come on. I am a sex demon. My sympathy to human customs can only go so far, my dumb busty little witch!”

Vendra shook her head, wondering (or trying to wonder) how many times he must have privately thought her a fool as he led her down this road. No, not a fool, but a dumb titslut with a titslow gooner brain.

Dumb. Big dumb tits out, demon wins, witch loses, body doesn’t mind…

The fingers of Chirosteron’s left hand found her nipples again, and he gave them a slow, proprietary squeeze. As for his right hand, it snaked down, seductively and with a certain finality, between her thighs… “Vendra,” he said. “I want you to tell me something. Can you do that?”

It was hard to think, even to tit-think. Tit-thoughts were titslow, as befits a titslut, while Chirosteron’s fingers were so fast. Both on her boobs and on her clit, which he had found on the first try without even looking down, because, well, duh… Incubus. Kinda the job description…

Much like dumb titslut felt like her description…

“I want you to say it back to me,” he said. “Your tits belong to me.”

She gulped down, sluggishly licking her lips. She was trying not to say it, but she was also trying to say it…

“My tits,” she said.

“Belong to me,” he finished, rolling her nipples between his fingers.

A long shiver went through her. Her hips bucked to meet his hand. “Belong to you.”

“Good girl. Now say, my tits make my mind simple.”

“My tits,” she said again, because that part was easy. “Make my mind simple.”

Too simple for a witch. Boobs too big. No room for many thoughts… large boob large input large output…

“And because my hands control your tits,” he said, kneading the soft meat of them, “I control your simple mind. Say that.”

She tried to repeat it, but the words were too many. Her brow creased. “You control,” she said, and then stopped. She bit her lower lips as the twin stimulation on her nipples and her clit was making her body spasm and convulse.

“Because I control your tits,” he said, slower, “I control you.”

“You control my tits,” she said. “You control me.”

It was dangerous, to say big important words to sex demons. Even her titslow mind could at the very least feel that Vendra had just given Chirosteron something. Knowing it, however, conspicuously failed to alarm her, it simply made her even wetter.

He bent down and took her left nipple into his mouth, sucking with such talent that it made her thighs quiver. Her thoughts dissolved into small pink pulses. Nothing mattered except the pull of his mouth and the push of his hands. She did not try to think her way back. All titslut got to experience was the truth of flesh, bending before will.

“Mine,” he said proudly.

“Yours,” she said meekly.

The word came out well ahead of her own thoughts, which made perfect sense: she was weak in body and mind, her body did not mind, her body had no mind, her body was not hers. That was the whole point.

“Here is how it will be,” he said. “When you and your coven need my help, of course you shall get it.”

Her nod became a shudder as his thumb fluttered expertly against her clit.

“But when we’re alone,” he said, “you’re not a clever summoner witch anymore. You’re my plaything. My victim, if you prefer, from a technical point I suppose you as a human female submitting to an incubus are essentially my prey. But I won’t drain you completely, don’t worry, it’s much better to keep you around as my personal thrall. My little sexual servant.”

Her pussy spasmed and twitched at the words. So humiliating and so fucking hot.

“Say it,” he said.

“I’m your plaything,” she said. Her voice sounded small and unassuming, the voice of a titslut who knows her big udders give other entities control over her, even demons.

Especially incubi.

He slid one finger inside her and she moaned like a wanton slut.

“More,” he said.

“I’m your victim.” The words came faster now, as her body raced ahead of her mind towards the edge of a cliff of utter pleasure. “Your prey. Your human toy. Your thrall. Your sexual servant—”

She tried to say something else after that, but the pleasure was tightening its grip around her slow-thinking tits and clit and it sounded more like a mewl to her. She must have been right, because Chirosteron laughed out loud.

“That’s not a word,” he said. “Try again.”

But words failed Vendra for good, as her thoughts began to tumble uncontrollably. No, yes, his, more, please, I submit I submit I submit I submit I submit I submit…

Her hips kept lifting off the floor to chase his fingers, and every time they did, his mouth pulled harder at her nipple, as if the two were connected by a string he was tugging on. Maybe they were. Titstring. Titslut on a string.

“Nnh,” she said. “Nnh, nnh…”

It was the only sound she had left. Even the mewl had been too many syllables. Nonverbal titslut controlled by tits in turn controlled by him.

“What’s the matter, incubus got your tongue?” Chirosteron asked with an easy smile. “Told you. Large input. Where are your thoughts supposed to be, when you have these big honking funbags taking up all the space?”

Her back arched and her heels scraped at the floorboards as he played her like a musical instrument.

“You know,” he said, conspiratorially, “this isn’t the first time I’ve had a little fun with you. Oh, nothing like this, of course, just little things. The occasional suggestion, maybe a grope every now and then which I then encouraged you to forget, but of course I had to be patient.” Just like he was being patient with her tits and cunt, she supposed. No matter how needy her pussy got, he just wouldn’t push her past the edge. His fingers were dominating her cunt.

Of course, she had no recollection of him ever messing with her.

Suddenly, no memory.

Years. Years years years. She had once thought herself a careful, skilled summoner. She had once thought.

Slow-thinking titslut…

“Do you have any idea how hard patience is for an incubus? We are built for passion, after all. But I knew if I pushed too soon you’d notice. First, you had to be aware that your tits are too large for you to handle. Just large enough for me to handle though, very conveniently!” He sucked her nipple back into his mouth.

“Nnnnhhh…”

“Besides, now we can race ahead together into uncharted territory. So much to discover!” He said, and his thumb was moving faster now, dragging her inexorably towards the cliff edge of pleasure, which when experienced at the hands of an incubus, always fundamentally meant that he fed and the female prey fell. “For example, while looking for that ingredient of yours, I found the most delightful little spell last month. Tongue dexterity. Meant for orators, I think. Very boring stuff and betrays a huge skill issue if you ask me. But I keep wondering…”

Her pussy walls clamped around his fingers.

“…whether it works on a witch being made to suck cock.”

Made to. Made for. Body not hers, mouth not hers, big dumb tits and a mouth that would be his too, and the thought went straight down into her cunt, and finally, finally, Vendra went over the cliff, and into the abyss.

The orgasm detonated within her, more powerful than any spell, racing outward across every inch of her body and mind like a shockwave. It left nothing in its path but hollow ruins. Through the convulsions of obliterating sexual pleasure, she could feel Chirosteron draining her, growing stronger and more content, sated, while she withered into him, the way a good thrall should.

Vendra was lucky that he had such good disposition towards her and her coven. She could have faced a much darker fate, had he been any other kind of incubus. Instead, now she would spend the rest of her mortal life, and perhaps beyond, at the feet of a kind master.

Master…

Titslut belonged to Master, and with that realisation, came Vendra’s true acceptance of her fate.

Suddenly…

Slavery.

THE END