Two Scoops Of Hellfire

by Kimberly Lemming

Sexual themes, demon cock, cunnilingus, and poor baking skills.

If I squinted my eyes a bit, the frenzied smears could possibly count as Hälsinge runes. If written by a drunken man spawn.

“Kain the Destroyer? What kind of weird DnD crap is that? What are you destroying aside from my kitchen?”

“Of course,” I said with a nod. “I, too, begin my cooking tasks by summoning ancient evils. Only a fool would attempt to make confections without at least two scoops of hellfire.”

“I just didn’t think it would be possible to screw up so badly I’d summon a freaking demon, of all things.”

Logic would suggest not screwing the demon I summoned by accident. The logical thing to do would be to take this chance to deny him and run far, far away (while keeping a six-foot distance from other humans, as suggested by the CDC during the remainder of the pandemic).

He was going to kill me. That was the only explanation. He intended to drive my soul from my body via a ridiculously drawn out orgasm and drag me down to hell. The worst part was that I wanted to go. If this is what dying felt like, then pay the reaper because fuck, I wanted to go.

I never considered myself particularly sexually adventurous when it came to ass play. Clearly, that was a mistake to be corrected.

“Stay here. Read me the first instruction.” Daisy gave a small shiver at the command. I liked that. “Yes, daddy. I MEAN.” Her mouth snapped shut, and she fixed a glare at the book in front of her. “Fine.”

“I feel like logic would suggest not fucking the demon I summoned by accident. Twice.” She paused for a moment. “But, in for a penny, in for a pound.”

“If I left to your own devices, I feel like that would still result in a medium to large size fire.”