Talia had never been more scared in her entire life. Her heart felt like it was about to give out at any moment, her stomach was a bottomless pit of terror, cold and gnawing, and raw fear crawled up her spine in thick, icy tendrils, writhing over her nape and across her shoulders so it felt almost like a heavy cape around her.

Even so, though her eyes brimmed with tears, she held them back, and she locked her jaw to prevent it trembling. It was the best she could do to steel herself against the total breakdown threatening to overwhelm her. Whatever her kidnappers had in mind for her, she would face it with whatever dignity she could muster.

‘Such a pretty little thing, aren’t you?’ The woman stroked Talia’s cheek with affectionate tenderness. She was wearing only lingerie – sheer lingerie at that – stockings, and a pair of killer heels. Her entire outfit was black, as were the thick swathes of tattoos that decorated both arms, most of her back, and the upper half of her thighs. Her hair was the colour of midnight and her lips were like a bruised rosebud, dark but delicate. ‘You look good enough to eat, gorgeous. You don’t mind if I have a taste, do you?’

Without waiting for a response she drew Talia’s hair to one side and kissed her neck. Talia struggled against her restraints as the woman’s hot tongue glided over her skin, but there was no escape – the leather straps binding her to the large, pink X-frame were unyielding.

Talia could already feel the lovebite blooming on her neck as the woman pulled away.

‘Mmmh, does she taste good, mistress? Does she taste pure and innocent? Can I have a taste? Please, mistress – I just want to taste her lips. Either of them.’

The second woman was a stark contrast to her companion. Her blue hair worn short, her lipstick and eyeshadow abyssal black, she looked in no position to kiss any part of Talia: sat with her legs wide and her feet folded beneath her, her wrists, thighs and ankles were all bound together by a large, three-looped cuff, while her torso was criss-crossed with purple rope that was attached to the thick leather collar she wore. There was an unnerving mania in her eyes – a perverted delight which only grew more intense as the tattooed woman slapped her so hard across the face she crumpled to the ground.

‘You filthy fucking skank!’ she roared as the bound-up woman struggled back up grinning as though she’d just been given a present she’d been wanting for months. ‘The only woman you get to taste is me, and that’s only when I’m suffocating you between my thighs.’

‘Yes mistress. Sorry mistress. I am your slave mistress.’

The third woman on the stage spoke up now, waving the tattooed woman aside as she did so. ‘Why do you two always make us sound like some kind of serial killer cult? You’re fucking twisted. Now get the fuck out of my way before I strangle both of you so hard the bruises never fade.’

The woman was curvy and tanned, half her hair ink black, half snow white. She wore a semi-sheer mesh bodysuit, though the cups of the bra were opaque, and she strutted about on heavy latex heeled boots, the platforms boosting her to an intimidating height. Her sharp brows were arced high and she smiled as she drew up to Talia.

‘I promise we’re not going to hurt you, sweetie. Well, not unless you want it, of course.’ The smirk she gave was pure mischief. ‘We’re just going to set you free. We’re going to help you leave this sorry life behind.’

‘Now who sounds like a serial killer?’ Talia whispered, shocked by the venom in her voice. She didn’t dare speak louder in case her words devolved into frantic screams.

The woman’s smirk became a grin. ‘Fiesty. I like it. We weren’t wrong about you. You do belong with us. You know it’s been a long time since we had a new initiate. Only the special ones deserve a place in our troupe. Special ones like you, Talia.’

‘H-how do you know my name?’ she stammered, somehow more scared by the fact that they knew who she was than she had been when they’d drawn a bag over her head as she was leaving the carnival and dragged her back kicking and flailing to their tent.

‘We know everything about you, little one,’ purred the woman. ‘We know the dark heart this pretty body hides. We know all the filthy desires you’ve ever tried to ignore. And we know how much you’re going to enjoy living them out with us.’

A ripple of laughter rolled through the room. Beyond the three women on the stage with her, there were more men and women in the seats below. Maybe two dozen in all, they varied from a heavily-tattooed hunk with a dark mohawk and a bulge in his leather trousers to a beguilingly chipper ginger woman, her bright, innocent face somehow out of place when paired with crotchless fishnet stockings and a choker made out to imitate a ‘Cut Here’ line. All of them eyed her with the same unnervingly amused glare, as though they knew something she didn’t and were revelling in her ignorance.

Only a few hours before Talia had sat in one of those chairs – the one now occupied by a busty woman in glossy latex, her face almost entirely concealed by a matching latex hood – her eyes bright with wonder as they performed their carnival act. It had been a mesmerising, somewhat sordid show, and she had left the tent buzzing with a kind of erotic admiration.

But for how much of that show had they been watching her? When had they decided to follow her? To drag her into the shadows and whisk her back here so they could… what? Taunt her? Kiss her? What did they want with her?

‘We want to help you,’ said the woman, reading her mind, and Talia suddenly knew that was how she’d known her name. ‘Like I said, we want to set you free. You deserve that much. And it’s hardly fair to let you suffer any longer, so I think we should get started.’

Turning to her companions in the audience the woman raised her hands. The gathering began to chant as one – ancient, unknown words Talia couldn’t even begin to understand. Their voices interwove, resonating through the air, and all at once the tent was sweltering, slick sweat breaking over Talia’s brow.

As they continued the woman stalked over to her, leaning against the X-frame to whisper in her ear. ‘You’re going to enjoy this, Talia. I promise.’

At that moment, thick red smoke began seeping up through the floorboards. Rather than disperse, it swirled together, rising several feet to hover in the air at about the height of Talia’s chest. Raw heat radiated from the scarlet cloud, so hot she felt her throat dry in a heartbeat, although when Talia glanced over the woman beside her wasn’t sweating in the slightest.

‘What is that thing?’ Talia croaked.

‘It’s a demon,’ replied the woman matter-of-factly. ‘And it’s going to possess you. Well, not possess exactly. You’ll be its host. But demons aren’t quite like you see in the movies. Think of them more like a drug than an actual creature. A sentient drug with a little magic kick. Once that thing is inside you it will bring out all your deepest, darkest desires and fashion you into a pure hedonist perfectly tailored to suit them. You’ll be the filthiest, kinkiest, naughtiest version of yourself. And we’ll be here to satisfy every fantasy you’ve ever wanted. Now open wide, little girl. Join us.’

Talia kept her mouth resolutely shut, but of course that made no difference. When the crimson smoke darted forwards it wrenched her jaw open with effortless ease and then it was pouring down her throat, filling her insides with heat so intense she thought it might burn her from the inside out. She was being invaded, she could feel it, the demon already twisting her thoughts with corruptive arousal. Her fear evaporated, an unexpected moan escaped her lips, and all at once she was hornier than she had ever been in her life.

Even so, she realised the woman had been telling the truth. The demon wasn’t taking control of her. It was changing her, yes, warping her into something twisted and deviant, however it was only using what had already been there to do so. Just as the woman had explained, the demon was intensifying all her darkest lusts while simultaneously purging her of any morals or hesitancies that might prevent her exploring them. It was corrupting her into the most sinful, hedonistic version of herself.

When the last tendrils of smoke had raced between her lips, Talia fell limp.

But her transformation was only halfway complete. Her mind had changed; now her body reformed to match. Suddenly thrashing wildly against her restraints, the X-frame creaking as she writhed with astonishing violence, she howled with ecstasy as the throes of transformation took hold.

Black-haired tattooed woman in red latex outfit kneels in front of pink bondage cross

As with Talia’s mental changes, the transition of her body to a more lustful form was a process of corruption rather than total transformation. Instead of reshaping her into an entirely new body, the demon simply enhanced her slight, pale frame into the perfect vessel of sin.

The dead ends of her dark hair swept down to brush her shoulders with long, inky locks, silken and glossy. Her brows plucked themselves into stern arcs, her lips were painted in lipstick the colour of ripe peach, and the black eye shadow and mascara that suddenly blossomed into being stood out stark against her pale skin.

Her groans grew giddy and breathless as her slender figure filled out into luscious curves. Ample tits, a plump ass, fleshy thighs that descended into lean calves – within seconds she had the sensual body of a sexual goddess.

A body which was soon on full display as her clothes changed too.

The band tee and jeans she’d been wearing swiftly morphed into a sublime red latex bodysuit, the gleaming material hugging the curves of her breasts, her hips, her ass. A matching collar formed around her neck, so tight it was almost choking her, the strips of latex which connected it to the bodysuit ensuring if she tilted back her head even a fraction she began to suffocate. Talia’s trainers, meanwhile, rapidly transitioned into platform boot heels, the red latex clinging tight to her legs all the way to her thighs.

Then, as though it had been waiting for Talia to be exposed before adding the final touches to her transformation, the demon decorated her flesh with a barrage of dark, gothic tattoos. She screamed as the ink weaved beneath her skin, blooming across her arms, ass and back.

Her corruption complete, the leather cuffs holding her in place unbuckled of their own accord and she dropped heavily to the ground, trembling and panting.

Slowly, she drew herself up onto her knees and turned to face her kidnappers. This time, however, she did not look at them with fear – she eyed them with insatiable hunger.

Black-haired tattooed woman in red latex outfit stands amongst group of alt men and women in erotic positions in front of red curtain background

Some of the audience had ascended onto the stage during her transformation, and now they were stalking around with unsuppressed lust in their eyes. Behind her, the innocent redhead allowed herself to be cuffed to the X-frame in Talia’s place, her giggly shrieks soon filling the air as the man with the mohawk flogged her exposed pussy. The woman in the latex hood, meanwhile, was assisting a muscular bald man as he suspended a slender, pale woman on a thick chain dangling from the rafters, her weight held only by rings pierced through her breasts and knees. Yet another woman had taken up a fiery torch, which she stared at as though mesmerised, while the blue-haired slave was waiting expectantly as her mistress bore down on her with an identical torch.

Down below, the remaining audience had turned to kissing and groping one another, apparently desperately turned on by Talia’s corruption.

And watching it all was the woman with the white and black hair. She leant against a silver pole as Talia rose slowly to her feet.

‘How do you feel?’ she asked, a devilish gleam in her eyes.

‘Horny,’ Talia replied with a smirk.

‘I thought you might say that. Do you understand now? Do you understand why we chose you?’

Talia nodded. She could feel the demon’s power and influence swirling inside her, an endless source of sin and perversion. And she could feel the demon inside the other woman too – the demons in every member of the troupe. At some point they had all been possessed, twisted into the darkest version of themselves, and she knew they had been able to sense the insatiable slut buried deep inside her from the moment she’d walked into the tent to watch their show. Her outward innocence hadn’t fooled them – to them, she’d been an open book, all her suppressed desires easily read.

And now, she was like them. Dark. Deviant. Demonic.

‘You wanted to set me free.’

‘Exactly. You know, all of us here have one thing we crave above all else, and our demons honed us into the perfect hedonists to satisfy those fetishes. That one there, we call her Slave.’ She nodded to the blue-haired woman. ‘She only ever wants to submit. Even if that means enduring ungodly pain to do so.’ As if to prove the woman’s point, Slave’s mistress pressed the torch against her exposed stomach. The girl screamed, yet she was smiling all the while and begging for more. When her mistress removed the torch, her skin was unscathed.

The woman gestured to the redhead on the X-frame. ‘Pepper is never happier than when she’s tied up being degraded. Whatever anyone wants to do to her, whether it’s painful, humiliating or just plain naughty, she’ll submit to it and thank you for it too.’

The woman turned back to Talia, her eyes like lustful fire. ‘So, Talia, what do you want?’

Talia could feel a desire more compelling than anything she’d ever known roiling within her, but she just couldn’t find the word for it. ‘I want… I want…’ Then her eyes fell on the audience, a pocket of handsome men eyeing her with primal hunger. A wicked smile split her features. ‘I want to be used. By them. By anyone. I want to be a filthy fucking cumdump.’

Talia’s new sister of sin matched her smile. Taking her hand, she guided Talia down from the stage and over to the men who were already pulling their thick, meaty cocks out for her to taste.

‘I’m sure that can be arranged. Trust me, Talia, being possessed is the best thing that will ever happen to you. You’re one of us now. You’re one of the corrupted. Now do me a favour, okay? This is the first night of the rest of your life, so make it memorable. Tonight you have only one job.’ The woman pushed Talia to her knees and stepped back as the men crowded around her, their dicks slapping against her face, pressing into her mouth and down her throat. ‘Fuck like hell,’ she grinned.

With that the woman sank down into one of the chairs, pulled aside the crotch of her bodysuit and began toying with her wet pussy as the first man seized Talia by the hair and fucked her face hard and deep and messy, the new nympho’s orgasmic groans filling the air as he did so…

Thanks for reading!

So, this story marks the mark of my quote-unquote “Halloween” content for this month. If I’m honest with myself, there is certainly far less spookiness to these stories than the Halloween content I’ve written before, and I don’t lean into themes of horror as much as I have done previously either. That said, the stories you’ll be getting over the next few weeks just seemed to fit with the atmosphere of the Halloween season to me, and I’m really happy with how they all turned out. Besides, demons and possessions are at least somewhat Halloween-themed, right?

Even if this story has nothing to do with Halloween though, I’m still thrilled it’s out there because it gave me chance to showcase the work of the inimitable Joanna Angel. I have only used her work once before, in a Christmas story from that year, but I really hope to use more moving forwards, perhaps even in a longform Club Fantasy piece or something similar.

I don’t just love Angel because of how fantastic she is as a model and performer, but because she truly embodies the values of body positivity and sexual confidence that the very best pornstars stand for. Not only is she stellar in every scene she appears in, but she set up her own damn studio, Burning Angel, and through that has helped kickstart the careers of some truly phenomenal performers, not to mention giving alt models the chance to forge their path in the industry.

Burning Angel is also a part of the Adult Time streaming platform, which if anything I might love even more; they host some of the most incredible content and also place trans and cis models on equal standings, something which I personally think is absolutely incredible.

All in all, I can’t stress enough that Adult Time, Burning Angel and Angel herself are all more than worth your time, and you should check them out as soon as possible.

I feel I should probably say that I understand my enthusiasm might make it sound like I’m being sponsored by, though I can assure you that’s not the case – all my opinions are my own. That said, although it will never happen, the chance to work with any of the amazing studios whose scenes I showcase would be an absolute dream come true.

I would also like to acknowledge that yes, there are a whole host of other models in these images, however I will not be sourcing them, primarily because there are way too many. However, if you’ve spent any time at all reading my work you’ll know I’m a big advocate for ensuring all models get the recognition they deserve for their work. With that in mind, the scene I used to support this piece is a Burning Angel production called Joanna Angel Gangbang – As Above So Below, so if you wish to explore the portfolios of the other models you’ll be able to find their information on the Burning Angel page for that scene.

And finally, next week’s story will be a three-parter. The first part will be releasing on Monday, so make you don’t miss it!

I would love to hear your thoughts on my work, so please leave me a comment!

Keep up to date with new releases by following me elsewhere:

Twitter: @Fetish_Fantasy_

Imgbox: https://imgbox.com/g/sDdFQHwNE4

Image galleries: https://www.pornpics.com/galleries/incomparable-tattooed-beauty-joanna-angel-flashes-pussy-in-red-latex-boots/


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