I wrote this story a while ago. It's a PWP (porn without plot) set in a fantasy school for magic (a grown-up Hogwarts if you'd like) called the Dracon School of Magicks. The plan was to write 2 or 3 more of these, bundle them together, and sell it for the more lucrative $2.99.
Then I got depressed, and I've barely written anything since finishing The Red Shoes. So I'm bringing it out now and will list it as a stand-alone. Hopefully I will get around to writing more porn in this universe, and maybe sell a nice fat omnibus style collection.
This is porn. There are zero romantic elements to it and the sex is kinda rough. If you're squeamish about lots of cum you probably won't like it much. It also has sex with a non-human (though he is sentient).
Asyra is a summoner of beings from other worlds. She is a new professor at the Dracon School of Magic, and has been without a man for six months. Her needs are becoming so urgent she is beginning to lust after her students. To sate her lust she summons the most sexual of beings--a satyr. Can she control this epitome of masculinity, or will she loose control completely?
3,000 words. Contains: rough sex, fantasy elements, oral and anal sex.
Her voice was low and quiet with building force as she felt the portal to the otherworld open in her heart. The pain of the crossing was sharp but brief, sending her tumbling and forcing her to her knees. The candles in the circle had gone out, but the other candles and the fire lit the room. She looked up—the object of her summons towered over her.
“Creature of the dark world,” she said, getting to her feet. “I bind you to my circle. I call you to do my bidding.”
The Satyr was massive. His cloven legs were covered in a thick pelt, the brown skin of his broad chest thick with hair as well. He had a not quite handsome but very human face, except for his yellow eyes and large, curling horns. He wore no clothes. His large cock and heavy balls hung between his powerful thighs. Asyra breathed in the heady scent of musky masculinity, strong and potent. It was easy to forget her young, inexperienced students.
“Your bidding.” The Satyr’s voice boomed through the small room. “You expect me to answer the summons of a female?”
“I command you,” she said, unsure. Even the angriest of entities had never questioned being fairly caught.
“I reject your command,” he growled, and with his cloven hoof he scraped across the chalk line of her circle, smudging her hastily scrawled runes. There was a mistake in the runes, rendering the circle worthless and broken. There was nothing to contain this powerful beast.
“Oh, don’t,” she moaned.
A muscular arm shot out and grabbed her by the throat, squeezing hard enough to cause alarm. “No female controls me,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Please.” Oh, this was bad. Very, very bad. A wild satyr loose in the halls would wreak havoc on the school. No woman would be safe. She would be sacked for sure and there would be no tenure, no comfortable retirement in her future. “I offer sacrifice,” she said quickly. “Take me in any way you see fit, and I will send you back home.”
He loosened his grip on her and Asyra dropped to the floor, taking in deep gasps of air. “I accept your sacrifice,” he said. “Though you may not survive it.”
“I’m tougher than I look,” she assured. “And if you kill me, I can’t send you home.” Only the original Summoner could do so much, and she hoped her remembered that. There were all manner of magical creatures wandering the world thanks to incompetent Summoners.
“We shall see. Get on your knees,” he commanded, and Asyra obeyed, the stone floor uncomfortable. “I think I shall enjoy breaking you.” He didn’t have to command her to do anything. She knew what he wanted. His cock hung half-hard in front of her face. As she watched it seemed to urge forward towards her.