>You had been sitting comfortably at home, shitposting online, when a bright light surrounds you.

>Reality seems to tear itself apart at the seams as you are ripped from your home and deposited in the middle of a weird circle in a dark, dank cavern.

>As you roughly haul yourself up onto your elbows, you make out nearby voices.

>Three small equine creatures sitting nearby, wearing robes, seem to be the source.

>Although you can tell that they are talking, you can't make out their language.

>Whatever language they're speaking, it sounds really pretty.

>They look up from their excited little discussion at you, but they seem confused.

>Gesturing repeatedly into a large book in front of them, they start raising their voices with each other.

>Your curiosity get the better of you, and you move in closer to see what's in the book.

>As you approach, your hand brushes through the perimeter of the circle, which seems to be made out of some kind of powder.

>A quick taste reveals it to be what you suspected: salt.

>You shrug and continue past it to the book.

>It's pages are filled with writing you can't read, as well as lots of strange, lewd illustrations of weird demonic creatures with little ponies.

>You notice that the excitable pony voices have quieted to a dull whisper.

>When you look up, you're greeted by three horrified expressions.

"S-sorry, was I not supposed to look at-"

>One of them to panics and begins shouting while the horn in the middle of it's head glows.

>Your gut tells you that's bad.

>Quickly raising onto you feet, you just barely manage to avoid a rock hurled at you by the creature's head-light.

"Shit! I'm sorry, okay!"

>You cower behind a boulder while the babby horses run around like chickens with their heads cut off, screaming and hurling things towards you.

>There's no obvious way out of this situation...maybe they'll get tired?

>At first you'd felt that investigating the reports of cult activity was an errand below your station.

>Surely there were better tasks for Starswirl the Bearded to be spending his time on?

>However, after discovering that the fools were trying to summon a succubus, you gave the investigation your full attention.

>Risking the lives of not only themselves but of the villageponies for something as common as pleasure...

>How utterly moronic.

>At any rate, here you were. If your sources are trustworthy, this should be where the summoning will occur.

>You hear shouts and cries from the other side, and you fear you are too late.

>Your magic makes short work of the door, and the cultists freeze.

>"Oh god, t-they found us!"

>"G-get him!"

>"What about the demon!?"

>One of them leaps at you, and you simply cast a paralysis spell, freezing him in midair.

>He hits the ground with a thud, and his allies panic and rush you simultaneously.

>They too fall victim to your magic.

>As you suspected, these cultists are quite dull.

>They aren't what you dread most in this room, however.

>You keep your horn alight, prepared to face the beast as you approach their summoning circle.

>The circle seems to be empty, though.

>You run your hoof through your beard as you contemplate the implications.

>Perhaps the summoning failed, and they got overexcited?

>You stop that line of thought as your gaze falls to the dusty gap in the perimeter.

>The fools! They broke the salt barrier!

>You spin in place, prepared for an ambush.

>But no one is there.

>Your eyes desperately search the area for the demon.

>Perhaps it escaped the room when your back was turned?

>Curse your lack of foresight, you may have doomed the whole village.

>A noise to your left has you whip your head aside.

>The demon is sat behind a large boulder, and it struggles to push itself against the wall away from you.

>It's face is a visage of pure terror, causing you to step back.

>It whimpered as you made eye contact.

>In spite of all your occult knowledge, you feel pity for the creature.

>The first thing you noticed was that the creature was obviously male, they must have summoned an incubus by mistake.

>The second thing you notice is his appearance; it didn't match the descriptions.

>While it's mostly correct, he lacked the horns, tail, and blood-red skin he should have.

>His full body covering clothing seems counterproductive for a lustful demon as well.

>You soften your expression and begin slowly approaching the creature.

>Your horn remains alight, though. This could be a trick.

"...Are you alright? Have they harmed you in any way?"

>He responds to your softly-spoken words with an alien tongue.

>A demon that can't speak the language of it's summoner? How very odd.

>He seems to be responding to your gentle approach, as his fear eases and shaking subsides.

>You hesitate as you begin to arrive within his reach, but you steel yourself and continue on, ready to teleport away in an instant.

>If you can apprehend this creature peaceably, than perhaps you can avoid a destructive battle.

>You have nothing on you that you can use to detain the beast, so his cooperation is the best you can hope for.

>He jumps slightly when you brush a hoof against his arm, but he settles down as you continue the contact further.

"We should get you out of here, friend. This place isn't safe for you."

>You know he won't understand your words, but you hope that he can catch your intent.

>After a few soft words and some coaxing gestures, you have him on his feet and following you out the door.

>You couldn't seem to convince the creature to walk ahead of you to keep an eye on him, so you'll have to check on him often as you head back to your workshop.

>As you carefully watch him walk through the doorway, you take in his features.

>You can understand why one would want to summon a creature like this, he's really quite handsome.

>You thank the stars that you opted to set up a tent rather than rent a building in the village for your temporary workspace.

>Leading the demon back to the village would be unthinkable.

>Using strategic call outs and 'helpful' nudges, you manage to keep him from looking around too much; hopefully he didn't see anything in the distance.

>When you arrive at your little home away from home, you breath a sigh of relief.

"Well, here we are! Please, come inside and we'll see about sending you home."

>He looks skeptical of your tent. From the outside, it looks not much larger than your own body.

>You hold the flap aside an gesture in. His jaw drops when he sees the enormous workshop within.

>His response confuses you. Do they not have magic such as this in the demonic realm?

>Perhaps, once he's inside and can be properly contained and controlled, you could learn from him?

>Almost all demonology was speculative on account of the dangers associated with interacting with demonic power...

>You would be breaking new ground in the field. It'd be nice to have another feather in your cap.

>He crawls into the tent, and quickly stands back up, amazed at the large amount of free space.

>You'd be amused, if you didn't have to act quickly.

>Silently you reach out with your magic and grab a box of salt.

>As soon as he walks out into the middle of the room, you spring into action and draw a large radius circle around him.

>He looks confused.

"Sorry, but I cannot risk you escaping and harming anyone."

>He scratches his head as he looks at the circle, before shrugging his shoulders and sitting cross-legged in the center.

>You quickly make your way over to your desk and start writing a few letters.

>First, letting the guards know to pick up the paralyzed cultists.

>And secondly, letting Celestia know that you've that you've successfully fulfilled your assignment and will return within the week.

>You decide not to mention the incubus until you decide what to do about it.

>You start rereading some of your research materials to see if keeping a demon like this would be viable.

>However, a plain fact continues to echo throughout your mind:

>If you plan to keep a creature like this long-term, you must provide it nourishment.

>And you already know what nourishment an incubus requires.

>You found him very quickly after he was summoned, before he would have had a chance to feed from his summoners.

>You look back over to the creature.

>He's still sitting in the circle, examining his surroundings.

>When he notices you looking, he smiles and offers a small wave.

>You return the smile before leaving your desk and making your way towards your bedchamber.

>Grabbing all the blankets and pillows from your bed as well as the extras from your closet, you bring them to the circle and start to build a pallet on the floor.

>The creature strategically steps around them as you work. You fear he may have somehow stepped out of the circle at one point, but you dismiss the thought as nerves.

>He makes himself comfortable among the bedclothes as you quickly mix up a potion from your notes.

>This potion should burn the skin of any demonic being it comes into contact with.

>If he tries to take advantage of your kindness, you'll use a few drops to discourage him.

>You set the potion outside the circle and carefully remove your robes and hat, setting them aside as well.

>He starts to look worried as you enter the circle and approach him.

>You adopt the same soft voice that so soothed him earlier.

"Don't worry, friend. I'm here to help..."

>You plant a hoof in the middle of his chest and gently push him down among the blankets.

>His face betrays an odd apprehension. He attempts to rise up a few times, but you manage to coax him onto his back.

>As you begin undoing the fasteners on his shirt, you smirk.

>Perhaps you did not give him credit earlier? Watching his smooth flesh be slowly exposed as he's undressed is incredibly erotic.

>You lay down as you feel yourself begin to emerge from your sheath.

>It would be unwise to lay all your cards on the table so early in the game.

>As you begin to undo the buttons on his pants, he reaches down and grabs them, speaking again in his strange language.

>His face is painted in a crimson blush, and his pupils are practically pinpricks.

>You gently brush his hands away, and speak soft reassurances as you begin to pull the garment away.

>Once you deal with the undergarment, you finally see your prize.

>His member is not as large as you expected, he didn't quite match a stallion for size.

>You gently exhale onto it, and it twitches in response. The demon moans softly, his eyes shut tightly.

>You plant your tongue firmly beneath his testicles and drag it upwards until you reach the tip of his shaft.

>Gently kissing the head first, you take it entirely into your mouth and bury your muzzle into his body.

>While it may not be particularly impressive, his penis is perfectly sized to fit into a muzzle.

>While you begin to service him, you ponder all the unusual disparities between the classical depiction of the incubus and the creature before you.

>Perhaps this one is different? His member was smaller than a normal incubus, his body was practically hairless in comparison, he wasn't as tall, he was hornless and tailless...

>His behavior was quite passive, as well. Not only were you able to lead him here without incident, but he hasn't touched your head or neck at all since you began to fellate him.

>Maybe rather than penetrating his prey this more meek, passive incubus entices his prey to penetrate him? He could harvest sexual energy the same way that succubi do.

>The thought excites you as you continue to bob your head up and down on his member.

>He moans as you hilt him in your muzzle and wrap him in your tongue.

>You decide to begin to test your hypothesis; you give him as much suction as you can while you pull off of him.

>He pants as you begin to roll over onto your side.

>His eyes widen as your member comes into view, fully erect and prepared for service.

>They dart back and forth between your eyes and your penis, his face frozen in a strange mask of confusion and hesitation.

>You start to doubt your hypothesis, before he begins to approach.

>Laying down beside you with his head at cock level, he grips you in his hands and begins to study you with his fingertips.

>You sigh pleasantly at the gentle touch. His hands are soft, and incredibly dexterous. Quite suited for pleasing stallions.

>While you try to decide if you should be taking notes or not, his efforts reward him with a small dollop of precum.

>He hesitantly brings his fingers up to the tip and pinches off some of the fluid to play with between his fingertips, smearing it and pulling apart into strands.

>After a few moments, he stops, and closes his hand around the tip of your cock before dragging it down, smearing your pre down the length of your shaft.

>You let out a low moan, and he blushes sheepishly.

>You're enjoying this far too much to allow yourself to be distracted by note-taking.

>Deciding that it might be best if you take on a more dominant role, you gently place your hoof along the side of his face and slowly bring him in closer to your stallionhood.

>You can feel the heat of his blush on your cock. He reaches out with his tongue and gives you a soft lick.

>He follows up with a longer, slower, lick. You love the sight of his tongue tracing the veins on your pre-slicked shaft.

>You encourage him with soft moans and by gently brushing your hoof through his hair.

>His licks become longer and more experimental as his confidence grows.

>At one point he attempts to insert you into his mouth, but you were a bit much for his succulent lips.

>It was worth it for the large volume of pre you were able to push out onto his tongue, though.

>The tip of your hoof against his lips was all it took to convince him to swallow what you'd given him before returning to his task.

>Basking in his attentions, you use your magic to whip up another potion.

>You enjoyed the challenge of focusing on your magic while being pleased; it had been far to long since you felt the need to think about your spells.

>Once you get the ingredients bottled and corked, you return your attention the the semen demon between your thighs.

>Most of the anxiety from the beginning has worn away as he becomes more comfortable with your cock.

>As much as you would love for him to bring you to orgasm like this, you decide it best to move on.

>You gently push him back, and he looks up at you with confusion.

>Grabbing a nearby stool, you place it within the circle.

>You use your hooves and your cheek to coax him towards it, and the anxiety returns to his face as he realizes what comes next.

>He glances down towards your cock and swallows nervously.

>For a being that literally feeds on sex, he's quite apprehensive about it.

>Since the two of you can only move at the pace he sets, you wait for him to overcome his nerves.

>Besides, the longer he takes is longer you get to cool down, and longer you get to spend inside of him before climax.

>He takes in a breath and lays his torso across the stool, causing his rear to stick out enticingly.

>First things first, though.

>Your horn lights up as you start to use your magic within his body.

>He squirms uncomfortably at the warm sensations inside of him, but you finish your task quickly enough that he isn't harmed at all.

>You didn't want a mess; he was thoroughly clean within now.

>The potion you prepared earlier floats over to you, and you uncork it.

>His small frame most likely meant that standard lubrication would be insufficient for a comfortable experience.

>He gasps as your magic levitates the purple fluid out of it's flask and directly into his body.

>He groans as you use your magic to thoroughly coat his insides.

>Every bump, every ridge, every crevice was generously covered.

>He had a decent amount of length inside, so you opted to lubricate all the way up until the first large bend; perhaps it was optimistic, but you were going to attempt to hilt in him.

>Now that he's been taken care of, you begin to prepare yourself.

>You put a hoof on his rear for stability while you rear up on your back legs.

>Taking care to sweep your beard aside so as to avoid staining it with lubricant or your masculine fluids, you tilt the bottle out and begin to slowly pour it onto your tip.

>The magic infused within the potion tingles and tickles your girth. This must have felt quite pleasant for him.

>As you begin to massage it into your flesh, you look up to the demon's face.

>He's staring intensely at your member, seeming mesmerized by the slick undulations of your magic against it's length, in spite of his nerves.

>When he realizes that you see him staring, you flash him a smoldering smile before he bashfully glances away.

>You start to suspect that his apprehension may be affected. He's behaving in a demure, virginal manner, which makes you incredibly excited to penetrate him.

>It could be an adaptation to help entice his prey.

>You're sufficiently lubricated now, it's time to begin.

>You plant your other hoof on his rear and angle yourself down to press the tip against his entrance.

>He's taking deep breaths while staring back at your cock anxiously.

>You wish more than anything that you could communicate with him, to ask if he's ready or tell him when you're going to enter.

>Magics that would allow such a thing like translation spells or direct telepathy are incompatible with demonic physiology, however.

>You grind yourself along his crevasse, until you hear him moan.

>Unfortunately, that will have to do for consent.

>Realigning yourself with his opening, you begin to gently press inwards.

>As you feel the muscular ring begin to yield, you flatten your beard against your chest and look down.

>You need to watch it go in.

>When your tip finally spreads him apart, the head is sucked in almost immediately, eliciting a ragged cry from the demon.

>You stop to allow him to adjust to your girth.

>He feels impossibly tight.

>Even though you logically know that he most likely has thousands of years of sexual experience, you flatter yourself thinking you could be his first partner.

>Being able to reverse penetrative stretching is most likely a standard adaptation for all lustful demons.

>As he gulps air beneath you, you once again lament your inability to communicate.

>You can't continue until he's ready, but he can't tell you when he's ready.

>The constant struggle against your natural instincts to bury your cock inside and breed him swiftly isn't helping matters either.

>After holding it in for what felt like an eternity, you feel him reach up and pat the side of your leg.

>You have no choice but to assume that means he's ready.

>Spreading your legs, lowering yourself onto his back, and wrapping your forehooves around his waist, you begin to slowly feed more cock into his hungry orifice.

>He pats your side, and you stop and wait for him.

>His tight, twitching ring was driving you wild. You desperately wanted to buck your hips and drive it into him, but you hold yourself back.

>You don't wait for him to pat you again before you begin to advance your length inside.

>Every inch still outside of him was agonizing.

>He pats you again, and you stop just short of reaching your medial ring.

>As he gasps beneath you, you begin to calculate how much room he has left for cock.

>If you can get the medial ring inside, you might just be able to hilt him.

>You decide to wait for him this time; it's least you can do considering the ordeal you're about to put him through.

>When he pats your side again, you shift your back hooves slightly forward for more leverage.

>You push into him a bit more quickly than he's accustomed to until you feel your ring against his.

>Sucking in a breath, you start to push firmly but slowly against him, until he yields again and allows more of you inside.

>He yelps at the sensation of being penetrated a second time, and vigorously pats your side.

>You wait for him to catch his breath while you adjust to the sensation of a somewhat underutilized portion of your anatomy receiving stimulation.

>He nods up at you, but you wait for the pat to be one-hundred percent sure.

>As far as you knew, a nod meant 'get out of my ass you heathen' in demon terms.

>He seems to recognize his error, and pats your side again.

>As you push more into him, he moans and arches his back as your ring passes his already overworked prostate.

>The rest of the insertion went fairly smoothly, as you were a fairly consistent thickness the rest of the way down.

>With less than an eighth of an inch left to go, though, you feel your tip touch his back wall.

>Taking into account the natural stretchability of the lower intestine as well as the injury-preventing magics of the lubricant, you decide it's safe to hilt.

>You press forward, grunting as you feel your tip being surrounded and caressed by the wall of muscle and your sheath being pushed back.

>When you finally feel the sensation of his testicles bump into yours, you stop your advance.

>You are well and truly hilted.

>You just hold yourself there for a moment, allowing him to adjust to the sensation and grinding your hips into him a bit to savor it.

>He lifts off the stool slightly get a good view of his cock dripping prostate fluid and his meager testicles framed by your voluptuous orbs.

>You pull back slowly, relishing the shudder he gives as your ring massages his prostate once more on the backstroke.

>You slide it back in with a bit more force than at first, making sure to fully hilt and grind into him.

>He sighs roughly as you pull back, scraping his prostate once more.

>You begin to work up a rhythm, out a little faster, in a little harder.

>Soon, you've settled on a steady pace as you thrust vigorously into him.

>He shudders and moans beneath you as you put his tight hole through it's paces.

>You bury your muzzle into his neck and breath in his intoxicating scent, taking hard, shallow thrusts into his deepest folds.

>His panting and grunting begin to approach a frantic pace. Along with his clenching orifice and continual attempts to thrust back into you, you can tell he's approaching his limit.

>You pick up the pace in hopes of a simultaneous climax.

>He yelps as your instincts get the better of you and you slam into him particularly hard.

>You slow down and pay close attention to his body language, face, and voice. After a few seconds, you're reasonably satisfied that he's uninjured and you resume thrusting.

>He tightens up and begins to cry out as his bliss arrives ahead of your own.

>You lift his torso up, causing your cock to rub roughly against the front wall of his interior.

>He fires out a thick rope of seed, dirtying the fine fabric covering the stool.

>You're very close. You drape your head over his shoulder and look down the front of his body to observe the slight bulge in his stomach caused by your flared head.

>He whimpers as he buries his face into your mane.

>As the moment arrives you pin him to the semen-soaked stool and bury yourself into him.

>You mentally prepare yourself for the exhaustion that will follow after the demon drinks of your energy during your orgasm.

>Your vision goes white with the sheer force of your climax.

>He shudders and twitches beneath you as he feels the heat of your lewd emissions inside his body.

>You simply drop your weight onto him and rest for a few moments.

>Those moments were spent nuzzling him and taking in his delicious, freshly bred scent.

>Once you felt your flare had shrunk enough for you to pull out, you slowly stepped back until you emerged with a plop.

>While your penis slowly pulled itself back into your sheath, you took stock of your situation.

>You felt precisely as tired as you would expect from normal intercourse; no more, no less.

>Nothing like the profound exhaustion or near comatose state described in the texts.

>Why didn't he feed?

>As your brain begins to put together the pieces, an uncomfortable thought rises to the top of your mind.

>Grabbing the potion you'd mixed for defense, you carefully allow a drop to fall onto his shoulder blade.

>...No reaction...

>He's not a demon.

>You frown as a pang of guilt jolts you through your core.

>You should have checked before you penetrated the poor creature.

>If he's not a demon, perhaps you could cast a translation spell on him?

>You walk up to his front and tilt his face upwards.

>The exhaustion of the whole ordeal is apparent on his face as you gingerly press the tip of your horn to his forehead.

>A flash of magic, and your two minds become one.

>You steer clear of his thoughts and memories, though.

>You've intruded within him without his permission enough for one day.

>When you find his language centers, you connect it with yours.

>You learn his language, and he learns yours.

>When you disconnect, he gasps and takes a big breath.

"...Can you understand me?"

>He jolts in surprise.

>"Y-yeah...hah...I can..."

"My name is Starswirl the Bearded, may I ask yours?"

>"Ngh...M-my name's Anon..."

>You offer the most apologetic smile you can muster.

"I'm terribly sorry, Anon. I thought that you were an incubus--a demon that feeds on sexual energy."

>"...Really? Um... is...that why we just..."

"I hope that you can forgive me, but I understand if you won't."

>He just stares at your hooves and pants.

"...I'll just get started on a spell to send you back from whence you came. Your summoners must have made an error in their spell that called you rather than the demon they intended."

>You start to walk over to your desk.

"It should be fairly trivial to return you home by decoding the spell they used and finding any possible mis--"

>As you walk past Anon, he wraps his arms around your neck and gently pulls you onto your side, among the blankets.

>He buries his face in your beard and breathes deeply.

>"Can we just...take a nap for a while?"

>After a moment of hesitation, you smile and wrap your foreleg around him, pulling him tight against you.

"I don't suppose there's any reason we couldn't."

>You use your magic to swaddle the two of you in blankets as he quickly falls asleep in your embrace.