Weeks turned to months and the months bled over into a year. For all this time, Kapricus - the closest anglicized form of his guttural demonic name - had been free of his home, the timeless abyss where he and his kin waited for foolish mortals hungry for power to dare and draw them out.

Certainly Desmond Lankett had been the least impressive of Kapricus' summoners, a fact the demon made clear to the fox. Kapricus had aided warlords and left armies so many miles of splayed trunks and diffused gore; had stood beside kings and emperors with delusions of godhood and had, in the end, absconded with their souls, just as vulnerable, just as pitiful as any commoner's eternal essence.

[i]I rode a tank, held a general's rank,[/i] thought Kapricus, a crooked smile on his face. Mortals and their funny music, their crude forms of entertainment. Films, books, video games, music. So few appreciated the finer points of field dressing a fresh victim. Bathing in its gore, feasting on its many meats, and giving oneself pleasure with blood, oh so much blood. So pitifully few understood. The murderers. The slayers. The ones who could cut down innocence like a scythe through wheat; if only Kapricus had had the fortune to be summoned by some murderous pedophile thirsty for flesh in more ways than one. A cannibalistic killer and fucker of children - now that kind of evil Kapricus could oblige, oh yes.

Yes, some mortals understood what it was to be evil. And oh yes, Kapricus had stood with depraved monsters whose souls would go on to do great things Down There; souls so resplendent with vile energies that, like cosmic dust collapsing into the core of a new star, their eternal essences feasted upon the suffering and the hatred of Hell and became mighty new demons to join the ever-growing ranks. Even Kapricus himself had been mortal once, eons ago, before time was even a concept mortals understood.

The boy laid back in the soft bed of his summoner. Master was the correct parlance - but master implied some sort of control. Desmond had no control over Kapricus. Desmond was soft and weak and he enjoyed being preyed upon by the demon. Oh, the fox had summoned him with bloody intent: vengeance, murder, death, kill, kill, kill those who laughed at me who bullied me who ostracized me.

Kapricus saw through such short-sighed desires. The fox - foxcoon - was a lonesome creature. His weakness influenced the form of the demon, and so Kapricus was not a towering caprine beast made of muscle and hatred; nor was he svelte and tall politician who stood robed beside royalty, acting as seer, adviser and assassin as needed; but a boy, a child of perhaps eight or nine going by mortal years. Kapricus was small, white, fluffy, endearing in his apparent innocence, repulsive in the depths of his hellbound depravity, for he had in him the bloodthirstiness and the lust of his ancient self.

Kapricus kept Desmond company. He took from the fox his virginity, replaced it with pleasure most incredible and agony unspeakable. Nothing that the fox did not enjoy, of course. Kapricus had in him the ability to look into a mortal's thoughts - and what silly notions of privacy they had! He never understood how creatures who could see only backwards in time and only into their own minds (and even then with the thick fog of poor memory and the chaff of junk memories) could claim to know joy and pleasure. Most of them did not even partake of the most sublime pleasure of them all. But Desmond did, at Kapricus' guidance. And now, nesting in the foxcoon's lobes like a parasite, the desire for that pleasure festered and grew. The hunger for ass, the earthy stink of anal musk. Kapricus had the body of a child but the eldritch smell of a demon; his anal musk had been like a drug to the mortal, and even now, it never ceased to make the fox so hard he was fit to cum in his shorts just from one whiff.

But that was hardly all. Now that pleasure was bleeding over into another, far more private pleasure... bestiality. Kapricus could see it clear as day in the fox's mind, and he believed quite rightly that if he bothered to inspect the pornography on his summoner's computer, he would find many examples of such vulgar acts. Kapricus was repulsed. And Kapricus was proud. His summoner at last revealed a fetish which was not depressingly vanilla, and which Kapricus had not himself placed there. Now only to bully the foxcoon into acting on his urges.

Another time, another time. It was nine PM and soon his summoner would be home soon. And so he waited, thinking fondly on times past, on bodies spread across the killing fields, a carpet of gore and maggots. He waited, thinking of seditious words whispered in royal ears. He waited, recalling fondly the souls he had taken in exchange for the use of his powers. And he thought fondly, so very fondly of Desmond, his summoner - an idiot fox, a misguided pedophile, but one with a decent enough smell in his asshole once he'd been convinced to stop bathing so fastidiously.

Kapricus lifted his legs, nearly touching his knees to his chest, and felt under the smooth coin purse that was his scrotum. Finger trailing over his perineum, sliding through sweat, touching now upon his anus, a small pink bud glinting with sweat. In went his digit - knuckle-deep, coaxing a hiss from the demon whose toes curled, spade-tipped tail swished. He grinned as he drew back the finger, plunged it in again, pulled it out. Then he brought it to his nostrils and he smelled it, shivering as he savored his own anal stench. Such powerful musk even to a demon nose; was it really a wonder why Desmond spent so much time with his nostrils there? Kapricus didn't believe so.

"It means you have good taste," the goat said with a sigh, lowering his legs. His penis, quite large on his body, uncut and dribbling copiously with precum, was stiff from his self-indulgence. He fingered his prick, felt around under his foreskin. These last few nights the foxcoon had been allowed to top him, and what a lame pleasure it was. Desmond's cock was tiny and the skill behind it was quite lacking. No. Tonight he would be on top. Ply the foxcoon with his anal musk; bend him over; fuck him until he screamed. Assaulting his testicles was optional, but shoving his musk-scented fingers in the mortal's face was not.

He sighed and waited. Kapricus had learned one lesson above all else in his timeless existence: patience had its rewards. Why masturbate when a screaming, simpering fuckpet was on its way?

Desmond entered his secluded home around half past nine. Another long day of flipping burgers, coming home smelling of grease and hating something he used to enjoy. At first Desmond had thought it a blessing that he was allowed to take home all the throw-out food he wanted. Now he pointedly ignored it, opting to either go hungry or stop at a gas station for a flaccid burrito or soggy nachos. Anything but a hamburger or a chicken nugget; anything but that, your honor, please.

It was only when Desmond was in his kitchen and he smelled the lingering presence of Kapricus that his double life caught up with him and gave him pause. The mortal mind, Kapricus thought, was an astonishingly flexible thing. In fact the demon was impressed with the ability of mortals to accept the unacceptable; Desmond had accepted Kapricus as his roommate, lover, and abuser just as warlords, generals, kings had accepted Kapricus as their confidant and seer. So easy it was to unsee that he was indeed a demon, that this arrangement would end with damnation and suffering and brimstone and fire. Short-term pleasures for Desmond; long-term gains for the ever-growing demon horde. Who was Kapricus to dissuade them from their mortal desires?

The foxcoon, previously hungry for some kind of gruel in his cabinet or fridge, began to think only of sexual hunger. Since meeting Kapricus [i](oh, meeting, is that what we call it now? dredged him up from the bowels of hell, met him at the mall and thought he was cute, what's the difference to a cosmopolitan faggot like yourself?)[/i] he had lost ten pounds. Already a slim creature, effeminate, in fact beautiful in a way he was too sheltered and hateful to see for himself, Desmond had begun to take on shades of disease. Strangers wondered if he suffered AIDS; coworkers suspected some eating disorder; the boss suspected substance abuse and had in fact arranged for a piss test which would soon come down the pipeline from corporate.

Substance abuse was the closest match; smoking meth was more destructive than snorting a demon child's smelly asshole, perhaps, but the end result was the same. Desmond slept little, ate little, socialized never, worked only because Kapricus suggested [i](commanding he commands)[/i] that Desmond attempt to maintain appearances, and to maintain his income. Kapricus could, and if he had to, would manipulate others directly and indirectly to ensure his summoner's success in life, at least until the time came to cut the game short and harvest his soul. But Kapricus quite enjoyed lazing about masturbating, smelling his own ass, dominating Desmond; so long as the foxcoon maintained a bare minimum of comfort for the both of them, he was happy to remain as parasitic as a tapeworm.

Desmond, still wearing the black khakis of his burger-flipping job, looked uncertainly into his bedroom as if expecting to see a crime scene not yet cleaned up. Kapricus greeted him from the bed with a smile and a wave.

"Greetings, master," cooed the goat smoothly. He folded his arms behind his head. Armpits reeking, penis stiff. "How I've missed you. What fun we'll have tonight."

"Hello, Kapricus," Desmond murmured. Some part of him said to turn away. Close the door, leave the house, toss on some gas and chase it with a match. Would it stop Kapricus? Oh no, not at all; but it was worth a try. He stood in the doorway like a father wishing to confront his lazy, thirty-year-old son but too resigned to lay down the law.

The demon interrupted the silence. First he smiled - though his eyes did not. Then he asked, "You would burn down your home to avoid me, master?"

Desmond looked suddenly as if his tail had been yanked. His eyes, tired though they were, widened to a comical diameter. He backpedaled from the door. Mouth open, jaws working, words failing to come together.

Kapricus rolled smoothly out of the bed, leaving a rough outline of his youthful body. He walked across the small bedroom with purpose in his stride, an adult quality unsettling due to his childlike form. Penis wagging side to side, mouth still smiling, eyes burning with admonishment.

The foxcoon backpedaled again into the narrow hallway and stopped against the wall. Up came his paws, the fingers outstretched. He had begun to cry without sobbing. "Kap," he bleated. "Kap, please."

Now Kapricus pressed against Desmond. His body heat was incredible, as if magma flowed in his veins. His hands, small and white and fuzzy, thrust under the waistband of Desmond's grease-spattered khakis and found purchase on his scrotum. The fox shrieked and slammed his palms against the wall, knowing better by painful trial and error than to try and manhandle Kapricus.

Desmond's testicles existed in a state of nearly constant bruising by Kapricus' vicious hand. The foxcoon enjoyed such abuse in a twisted fashion; still feeling misery, still knowing humiliation and submission, but pleasure as well. Kapricus wrung them like a wet rag. Inside the fuzzy bag he felt the fine details of the testicles themselves, grapes fit to burst under his small but brutal grasp. He wrung and he stared at the fox, red eyes more brilliant than welding arcs, smile as subtle and fatal as carbon monoxide poisoning.

Said the demon in a tightly controlled snarl, "For [i]one year,[/i] I have existed in this pathetic form to bring you pleasure and now you wish to destroy me, [i]mortal?"[/i]

Agony, terror, abject emotions struggling for purchase on Desmond's blubbering face. Pleasure, all pleasure for Kapricus the demon; Desmond's pain was no killing field but in these trying times, even a small hit of mortal suffering was a kick in the heart like a little toot of coke for an addict months clean. Fingers squeezing, gripping, testicles throbbing, screaming, so close to bursting.

"Pathetic. Pathetic," Kapricus hissed - and then he snarled in his demon tongue, a vulgar and black speech the utterance of which filled mortals with a terror as incomprehensible as a phobia. It filled them with such stupid terror because their minds understood it; words drilled into them from biblical times, times of miracles and revelations, phrases and truths and threats dredging up fears as natural and valid as terror of snakes and drowning and darkness. Kapricus murmured his demon tongue to the foxcoon and he watched the wet, green eyes turn vacuous, the mouth open wide as if unhinged, the tears fall like raindrops. And the piss filled the foxcoon's briefs, wetting the demon's hands. Kapricus had bathed in blood; piss bothered him not.

Kapricus shoved the broken fox down. Desmond slid along the wall, blubbering, babbling. He hit the floor in a heap, crumpling like ancient parchment. Full of hatred, demonic nature and needs spurred by the weakness of the mortal, Kapricus yanked off Desmond's coverings, but only the ones which mattered. Khakis, then briefs, and he rolled the fox onto his belly. The foxcoon's mind would mend once something broke him from the fearful trance - something like a lance of pain, exquisite and sharp, enough to plow through the seizure-like misfire in the brain and restore him to factory settings.

The demon straddled Desmond's thighs. He yanked apart the thick orange ass cheeks and, without hesitation, crammed his nostrils against the quivering pink rim of Desmond's anus. He smelled the fox harshly, deeply, taking of him like an addict inhaling a line of blow. Each inhalation made his penis twitch and his heart, however black and frigid it was, soften to something resembling its usual, idle condescension. Gradually he began to like Desmond again; and he began to think of the horses again, his summoner's thirst for mare pussy and stallion anus. Soon, soon. Still Kapricus was cross with the foxcoon, and so Kapricus straddled higher on Desmond, touched his penis against the mortal's anus, and stabbed his member into the fox in one savage push.

Desmond screamed. It was a good scream; shrill and hurt, breaking the haze of the blacktongue poisoning, returning his mind to more or less where it ought to be. At the end of his scream he bleated hopelessly, "Where am I?"

Kapricus' hips smashed against the fox's round, plush ass. Pleasure twisted his stony face into a smile, eyes included in the joy this time. Because the contrast amused him, he said diffidently, "On your belly, master. You simply [i]begged[/i] me to fuck you silly, so here we are!"

"It-, it hurts," the fox yowled, and he nuzzled the carpet with a whimper. "My head hurts... why does my head hurt?"

"Who's to say?" teased Kapricus, and pushed in just as far as his penis would go. Ten inches of turgid demon meat stretched the foxcoon's anal walls unlovingly. The goat stayed here a moment and reached back. Flexibility came with this body; one thing to be grateful for. Two fingers jammed into his anus, collecting the stink of sweat and pungent anal musk. He withdrew the fingers only when he was certain they had been permeated with his stench. Then, drawing them out, he thought of sampling them himself. Resisting this urge, he pushed them against his summoner's snout and said lowly, "Smell me, master. Smell your demon as you so love to."

Desmond yipped, gagged - and then he began to smell Kapricus' proffered fingers. He took the demon's wrist but gently, knowing his demon slave did not care to be held firmly unless permission was given. He merely steadied the hand which proverbially fed him; he inhaled the musky stink as Kapricus fingered his nostrils, and he suffered the demon's resuming anal sex with hardly any notice, so lost he was in Kapricus' bliss-inducing smell. All fears, troubles of the day, pains melted away into that wondrous stink. Even the deep ache in his testicles became a far-off thud. He murmured, "Oh, I love you. I love your smell."

The demon tittered. Booming laughs had been more his speed in greater forms, but a giggle suited him fine in this wretched young body. "You do-o-o," he cooed, hips grinding, driving. He smeared his digits over Desmond's nosepad, pushing the sweaty stink into the fox's sinuses manually. "Though I think you might enjoy, even more than my evil smell," he humped especially firmly into the foxcoon, eliciting no response at all, "the stench of a mare's sex?"

That earned pause from Desmond. He looked back at Kapricus, eyes wide, expression horribly guilty. It was enough to make the demon titter again. Kapricus soothed his summoner with the fingers. He said, still humping and feeling the pleasure rise like the tide, "Oh, yes, I know [i]all[/i] about your very marey desires, master. How you crave a winking equine clitoris against your tongue, how you'd love to taste a stallion's musky anus. I know everything." [i]Not a single thought behind those stupid eyes is veiled to me, mortal. I can read you. I could destroy your mind if I wanted. Foul cumdump whore of a fox![/i]

Humping slowing, deepening. Kapricus grunting, keeping fingers in Desmond's nose. "Fuck. Fuck," hissed the demon. Withdrawing his fingers now and ignoring Desmond's whine, Kapricus smelled them for himself and was, however briefly, awash in pleasant sensations of musk and pleasure. He fell against his summoner who whimpered, though Kap believed the plaintive cry had less to do with pain and everything to do with having his musk taken away, like an infant missing its titty. Kapricus hogged it for himself. He smelled his fingers deeply, indulgently as he came, shooting jets of hot cream under the foxcoon's tail. It stung the seemingly infinite micro-tears inside the fox's asshole, burning the irritated mucous membranes. Demon semen had somewhat acidic properties; it would not eat through anything like the blood of a certain fictional alien but it was unpleasant like citrus juice. Kapricus remained fully slotted inside of Desmond; so what if it hurt the fox. His fault for calling forth a demon.

Several moments into afterglow, Kapricus grew bored with his own smell. He offered his fingers to Desmond again and the fox was like a junkie, smelling hungrily, moaning as he had his fix. The subject of horse pussy was filed under [i]Not Currently Important[/i] and both the fox and demon let it fade away. Soon Kapricus pulled free of his vulpine summoner and returned to the bedroom wherein he draped himself on the bed, letting his sweat soak into the comforter. Desmond went silently into the bathroom and showered himself clean, scrubbing all but his ass crack.

The fox came out mostly clean, musk intact. Still with towels on his body and hair, he tried to sit at his computer - wincing as he put his bottom down - but Kapricus roused him like a disapproving father. "You need to eat. My asshole isn't enough to sustain you."

"I only wanted to check-"

"Eat, master," Kapricus said lowly. "Your internet friends will be just as irrelevant when you get back."

For a moment it seemed Desmond might ignore Kapricus, and really, the demon hoped he would. How refreshing it would be to see Desmond grow a backbone - just in time for Kap to break it. But the fox got up and walked into the kitchen without so much as a pout.

The demon shrugged. He closed his eyes, and he began to alter himself. Perhaps he could not become a hulking beast of muscle and bone - here he was bound to laws of physical matter to some degree - but he could rearrange what he had. He could become anything which took up the same amount of space as his present body. Nothing too outrageous, of course; Kapricus was annoyed by this form, yet he liked the power it held over the pedophilic foxcoon.

Subtle lines changed. Features grew more feminine, chest gaining a hint of curve, pink nipples peeking through the white fluff. Thick penis drawn inside, turned inside out, but not in the crude surgical way mortals performed; no, Kapricus became truly female, her vagina as natural and virginal as any grown from the first clumps of cells in the womb. From then the changes were subtler; legs a bit slimmer, more shapely, hips to match, horns shorter, eyes bigger and warmer. And then she simply waited, smiling, waiting to see how long it would take him to notice.

[i]Oh, master, do little girls please you too? I believe that they do, oh yes, it's true,[/i] thought the girl, giggling at the rhyme.

There was the smell of microwaved food. Kapricus had been at first amused by these repulsive facsimiles of real food; anymore it simply made her feel a kind of pity for Desmond, a wish that he would take better care of himself. She was, of course, counting the days until she would tear his heart free of his body - and have a bite, taste the coarse and fibrous muscle of the fox's second most vital organ - but that was no reason for him to completely neglect himself.

[i]Listen to me. Contemplating playing life coach for this indolent mortal. He is as much a bad influence as I am.[/i]

Desmond returned without his towels on, nude and ostensibly fed. He gave Kapricus a glance the way one glances at a screen on their way past it. His eyes did not linger did not notice what had changed. He turned on his computer monitor and opened his browser.

Kapricus was not surprised, but she was mildly offended nevertheless. She had gone to all of this trouble, expended so much energy to rearrange what had been a he into a she, all for the purposes of seducing Desmond. And the fool, brain fried from too much work and a few toxic syllables of the blacktongue, had looked right past her.

She rolled out of the bed onto padding feet - no hooves for Kapricus, not now, not ever - and stepped behind the fox. In her childish male body, she had been quite capable of silence and grace; as a female that ability was vastly improved, for she was smaller, more sure-footed, although just as dense. Her fuzzy fingers slid around Desmond's fluffy breast, his fur sluicing through her fingers. Kissed him on the back of his head, lips touching down through blonde which a nearly perpetual braid made very wavy.

"Ma-a-aster," cooed the small goat, a smile on her face as well as in her voice. She felt Desmond tense. His ears perked at either side of her cheeks. She nosed one, giggled. Being female was making her cuddly; hateful inside, thirsty for gore, but the mask atop it all was sweeter.

"Kap?" Desmond asked, sounding like someone addressing a stranger.

"Yes. I'm still Kapricus," she purred. She hugged him firmly. Nuzzled his head, petted down his chest, down his belly. Fingers brushing his penis, coaxing it to a half-mast twitch. "And I've a wonderful surprise for you. It's between my thighs. On my chest, too."

She disengaged him and gently spun his office chair. Desmond looked at her small white body as it entered his view. His mouth worked silently, eyes on the small triangle of pubic mound between her legs. He looked up at the smooth plane of her chest... or smooth on first inspection. A second look showed the subtle curve and the two dots of pink that were her nipples.

"How?" Desmond asked, cheeks lighting in a blush. "And why?"

"Because I can," Kapricus answered - and what more answer did Desmond need? She smiled, but there was a dark cloud in that smile. All of Kap's smiles tended to be loaded ones but the unfamiliarity of her girlish face rattled Desmond. She reached low and spread, quite delicately, the lips of her cunt. A smell that was potent and womanly emanated from her sex, a female flavor of the powerfully masculine stench Desmond was so used to. She saw the fox lean in... and then sit back, as if believing himself tested.

In spite of knowing full well what the fox was thinking [i](it's a trick it's a trick he's going to hurt you),[/i] Kapricus found that she liked to play along. To play dumb, as the mortal saying went. She turned in place, bent slightly, and perked out the cheeks of her ass - now a bit more pronounced and round. Her tail, which was long and ropey as if it had been pilfered from a cat or a lemur, swished over the peach of her bottom and then had the audacity to curl itself into a heart shape, spade tip pointed down at the crack like an inviting neon sign outside of a brothel. "Even when I am a little girl, you want to smell my anus instead, master? Then please do." She parted her cheeks for him, baring her pink bud. It was unchanged from her male body's anus; still pink, still sweaty, still unfathomably smelly with musk.

Desmond leaned in, then started to fall back again. This time Kap's tail snapped around his neck with the suddenness of a lunging snake. The fox yipped in shock as the tail wrapped around like a rope and pulled him in with overwhelming strength. His nose smacked against her anus and he whined, then began to smell, to partake deeply of Kapricus' familiar scent, be the body male or female. He inhaled her rich anal musk and moaned, penis growing hard. His fingers fondled her. Touched her cuntlips haltingly, dared not to push in. Soon the fox would be inside of her - Kap's promise, no thought of Desmond's - and the foxcoon would find her hymen intact, her young body ready to shed hot demon blood for him.

Kapricus found herself exhilarated by this. As a male, he had busted his share of cherries through the millennia, oh yes; blood had rolled down his penis like a glaze courtesy of countless young women. This would be the demon's first time on the opposite end of the arrangement - speared open, innocence lost. Physical innocence at least; mental innocence, Kapricus had seemingly never known.

"How hungrily you inhale my evil smell, master," cooed small, female Kapricus, her tail easing off, becoming a gently stroking appendage instead of a snaring noose. She thought of using its point to impale him through the chest. Oh, and she would kiss him, shove her tongue down his throat as blood gurgled up to greet her. The idea was worth a smile, nothing more.

Hungrily and so very promisingly, Desmond moved lower. His nose dragged along her anus, opening its rim, allowing a greater miasma of scent to escape its ring. Then his nostrils were off of it, moving along the soft fur until it touched her cunt. And there he lingered, smelling, snuffling, moaning. Penis stiff as can be, paws touching her with growing comfort and hunger, fondling her legs.

"I gave myself this pussy [i]just for you,[/i] master," cooed the small goat. "I felt it in your thoughts. In your mind, master. Little girl pussy, how badly you want it."

"Kap," Desmond shuddered. Pleading with her without saying a word more.

"Shh, shh, shh," the girl softly hushed him, the sounds comforting, almost motherly. Her tail coiled again, asserting itself on his neck without causing pain. "You are a pedophile, master," Kap cooed. "You are. Say it."

She expected so much difficulty. Desmond moaned against her twat, "I'm a pedophile."

This made her giggle and grin. So helpless, such a slave to his vulgar desires. Of course, the mortal really wanted to bury his face in deep, smelly horse pussy. Craving a child, though not normal by any means, seemed to be par for the course with Desmond Lankett.

The fox licked, probing his tongue against her immature sex. Its lips were delicate, taut, completely virginal. The coos she gave were genuine; her body was an entirely new form with all the vulnerabilities that came with such a state.

She reached between her thighs and carefully parted the lips of her sex. Within was humid pink flesh, somewhat pale but rich in its girlish scent. Desmond's tongue slid between the lips, conforming to the gentle dip between them. Against such perfect young flesh, even Desmond's smooth tongue seemed coarse.

Kapricus shivered and moaned. The desire to push herself down into Desmond's lap and ride him was strong. No viciousness, no ballbusting, simply bouncing until he was done. Ripping open the membrane in her new sex, spilling blood in her facsimile of female virginity. The very thought made her shudder. She was hideously wet for Desmond.

But Kapricus wanted him to take control. Whether a normal impulse for her or a result of this smaller, more demure body, she could not tell.

The demon felt further between her thighs, rubbed Desmond's chin from this position, and softly cooed. She spoke, "Master, won't you fuck this little girl?"

"Yes," Desmond said against her sex. His lips dragged against her vulva; his nose again found her anus and he smelled it haltingly. "I want to fuck you..."

"I was certain you did," Kapricus giggled. She pulled away, but not with the horrible strength she possessed. She did it gently, teasingly. She looked back at him with a coquettish smile and a swish of her snaking tail.

Kapricus moved for the bed but Desmond surprised her. He grabbed her in shaking but earnest paws and took her down to the floor where she landed on her back. The demon looked at him very closely, smirking, impressed by his initiative.

Desmond threw his naked body against hers. His penis was small but stiff. A clumsy prod against her tight sex prompted Kapricus to part herself again.

Now the fox found his way inside. His penis stabbed into the goat in one push. Kapricus grimaced, whimpered, and arched her spine. The pain was real and it was so unlike pain she felt - pain which she reveled in - in her male form. It caused her to cry, to rake her claws down Desmond's shoulders and flanks until they left deep, bleeding ruts. She trembled beneath him, feeling submission she had never known before. Weakness she found abominable and at the same time exhilarating. At last she understood what the mortals whimpered and writhed about. She knew what it was to be truly penetrated.

Clumsy, hungry grinds pushed Desmond's cock into the young and snug passage of Kapricus' new vagina. His member prodded at the membranous wall of her hymen. She cried out and clung fast to him. A new sexual agony made her kiss him hard, biting his lips, biting his tongue as it invaded, drawing blood neither mortal or demon seemed to notice.

A flow of bright red blood stained Desmond's penis and drizzled down to his scrotum. Both Desmond and Kapricus smelled this blood. It was somehow musky and pungent, its evil smell signaling the end of Kapricus' newfound innocence. The foxcoon broke free of the kiss. Blood streaked his lips as well as his penis. Panting, humping the girl in a desperate bid for satisfaction.

Kapricus squealed and whined, sounds so unlike a goat but natural for a demon. Tears stung her eyes, an unfamiliar thing for her to shed. She raked claws down Desmond again, ripping fresh ruts into his flesh, letting blood seep from him with spiteful intent; if she was forced to bleed, so was he.

But where Kapricus lashed out with hate and felt only mild pleasure, Desmond was a slavering beast of a man. Deep, rumbling groans emanated from his skinny chest. His clumsiness began to abate; now he was fucking her, [i]making use[/i] of her in a fashion she had previously done to him and countless other mortals.

"Master-, [i]master,[/i] you're hurting me," said Kapricus, meaning it, meaning every word of it with the same helpless sense of duty of countless mortals come their first time.

Never before had Desmond heard Kap speak of feeling pain or showing such submission. He fell under the assumption that the imp was faking it for his benefit. He kissed her cheek, chin, neck, all the while growling. Hips still pumping, blood gelling, some still flowing. The little demon rolled back her eyes and closed the lids, shuddering with pain easily mistaken as ecstasy.

"Oh, fuck, fuck yes," Desmond grunted, his hips slowing, rhythm becoming awkward once more. A deep shudder quaked his body. He pressed close to Kapricus, buried his penis inside of her, and the load that he shot was thick and voluminous, at least compared to his usual output.

Kapricus, still a demon, was not stung by the salt of Desmond's seed in the fresh rend of her hymen. It was the simple feeling of being filled, being prostrated like this which offended her so deeply. And yet there was ambivalence in this for her; she enjoyed the wiles of her new form even if she hated the labor that was intercourse. What she looked upon with lust and hunger as a male she now saw as an unpleasant duty for her mortal master. Yet she knew that mortal females enjoyed this quite a bit. Kapricus did not intend to put in the time to find out just how enjoyable it could be. She was making plans. Desmond had made her feel humiliated and used. She would return that favor.

His tongue slid over her neck. The warmth was cloying. She pawed at him in a flat imitation of love. Her fingers ran down his bloody back without care. Desmond growled to her, "You were amazing. You're wonderful like this. Thank you..."

"Mm," Kap replied. "You-, you gave me quite a surprise," she murmured.

Proudly, "Did I make you cum?"

The demon chuckled. There was a girlish, immature quality to it. She kissed Desmond's bloody lips and told him that she was most satisfied. And what was more, she had a reward in mind. He would receive it soon, very soon.

That night, Desmond slept satisfied and proud like a caveman who had clubbed dinner and impregnated his mate in the same day. For a time Kapricus laid beside him, the little spoon to his big one. New hormones and old tendencies toward bloody vengeance complimented each other in her mind. She came terribly close to castrating him, feeding him his own genitals, and then gutting him like livestock. Decorating his room with his own entrails and purifying herself in the blood; what a treat it would have been.

But the demon's old, wise mind gradually got control of the young, feminine form it was in. Briefly she considered changing back to a male, but she had weakened herself and it would be days before she could perform such a transformation. Moreover, she found she liked the less cluttered feeling of her new mind; sex was now towards the back of her concerns instead of dominating the front lines. Gore and savagery were still supreme desires but those too were kept in check by her ancient wisdom.

When the moment was right, Kapricus slipped out of bed. Desmond continued to drone his snores. The demon closed her eyes, focusing her otherworldly power. Her power could destroy minds and alter reality but these abilities were nearly impossible to manifest on Earth. Simply changing between quite similar forms had all but drained her.

She settled for transporting her consciousness, projecting her mind as it were. She saw herself, saw Desmond, now saw the house from above, the secluded patch of ugly land it was situated on. Moving north, looking down on a quilt-like patchwork of farms in uneven squares. She decided upon one with stables. Going lower, looking down like mortals did with their satellites, but her mind's eye was infinitely more granular; she could see every fine detail as it happened. Inside the stable now. Dark, horses snoozing in their stalls. Males, yes, four males, three of them geldings. And a mare... two mares. Both big, brown, burly workhorses in good shape. This was the place. This would do for the ultimate prostration of Desmond.

Her consciousness was jerked back into her body. She looked at Desmond wide-eyed, arms defensively up, and then she forced herself to relax.

"Are you okay?" he asked her drowsily. He was looking down at her. His penis was close enough she could have torn it off of him with only a flick of her wrist. "You were just... standing there, looking into space."

"Are demons not allowed to wander in thought, master?" said Kapricus sweetly, smiling. She huddled close to the foxcoon, nuzzling his belly. Feeling hate and lust in roughly equal measures, she stroked a fuzzy hand up his leg and brushed his genitals. "You should rest, master. Do you not have work tomorrow?"

The fox grinned down at her. There was confidence in that grin. Kap wanted desperately to beat it out of him, to throttle and pummel and crush that confidence out until he was only a cowering wreck for daring to believe he had a modicum of power over her. Her face never changed. She was still smiling, her fingers brushing with his genitals.

"You're giving me mixed signals," Desmond growled. "I think I'd sleep better if I could use that little girl pussy of yours again. I'm a pedophile, after all."

Desmond had no idea how perilously close he came to a miserable death. To fuck her was one thing, but to embrace the term she had forced him to spit out with his nose in her ass... the nerve of it was unspeakable. She licked her lips. Exhaled slowly.

"But master, you've left my young sex [i]so sore[/i] from your," she paused, cooed, "stalwart lovemaking. Perhaps I can satisfy you another way?"

Although Kapricus was in truth still sore from losing her virginity, she thought she might have enjoyed another try. The very idea of moaning for this mortal sickened her in a way very few things could, however. And so the demon managed to talk him down to oral sex; him lying back, her kneeling between his thighs. It was a simple exchange. Her fingers toyed with his anus, a familiar stomping ground of hers, and her mouth suckled his pathetic penis with expert skill. On its flesh she tasted blood and the musk of her vulnerable new sex. Pussy was no new flavor to the demon; her own pussy was a humbling taste. She was only too glad when Desmond came. He dared to hold her down but she maintained the facade of submission, even feigning trouble swallowing such a small mess of cum.

When Desmond was asleep again, so too did Kapricus finally rest. She rested beside him as he snored and fingered herself anally with one hand, vaginally with the other. Smelling her own asshole worked for her then as it always did, and she coaxed from herself her first female orgasm. The feeling filled her with a warmth she did not know she had the capacity for. It left her shivering, whimpering quietly, toes curled and anus clenched. She pressed in close to Desmond and resented him for being so comfortable to lie against.

The following morning, Desmond tried for more, but Kapricus softly rebuffed him in her sleepy daze. She promised him wondrous pleasures that night; he need only wait until work was over. He had not been entirely satisfied with that outcome, but it had the desired effect of stalling him until he needed to go to work.

The goat spent the day planning. She inspected the farm again through her projections. From what she could ascertain, only one person watched over the horses, a middle-aged wolf who would be mentally dominated easily enough. And then it would be only her, Desmond, and the horses. For the rest of the day, Kapricus spent her time masturbating, fingering her tender young cunt viciously until it felt raw enough to scab over, but the orgasms she suffered were intense. She marveled at how many she could have; even as a particularly fertile male, she could never cum so many times. The female body, she believed, had its advantages. By the time Desmond came home, Kap's fingers were musky and pruned.

Desmond entered his home with almost a swagger about him. He looked tired but not exhausted the way he usually did. Upon stepping into the bedroom where Kapricus usually was, he smelled the air and grinned at the little girl lying lazily on his bed.

"Smells nice in here." He started to undress, slipping out of his uniform. "I've been waiting for those [i]pleasures[/i] all day. Hope you saved me some."

"Oh, master, more than you can imagine," tittered Kapricus. She scooted to the edge of the bed and gave him her best, most innocent smile. "Yes. Get out of those clothes. And put on these," she said, indicating the darkest clothing he owned, which was folded neatly and waiting on the computer chair. The outfit consisted of black sweat pants and a black hoodie.

Desmond looked at the clothes. For just a moment, one Kap was most grateful for, some of the confidence left his expression. "Um, why?" he asked, and then slid down his khakis. "Some kind of game you want to play?"

"Not at all. Your fur is very vibrant, master," Kapricus explained. "So we need to cover it up while we sneak."

"Sneak where?" Desmond sharply asked.

Kapricus grinned. She spread her palms to him. "Why, to where unspeakable pleasure lies in wait, master." The girl giggled and stood. She closed her eyed, focused her power, using her transformative abilities to what extent she could. Becoming a girl had exhausted her ability to change shape, but she had enough power left to shift the color of her coat from white to a deep ebony. To Desmond she appeared as if her colors had inverted, at least as far as her fur went. Her eyes remained unchanged.

"Now get dressed and come along, master. The time is right."

Desmond let the demon lead him. She made him walk through the scrub brush of his yard and into the dark cornfield of a neighboring farm. Lightning flickered in the clouds off in the distance, seemingly the product of the summer heat.

The walk was long and difficult in the dark, but every time Desmond questioned the wisdom of his adventure, Kapricus promised in cooing tones - and at times as she rubbed her nude body against him - that the pleasures she was about to show him would make even her young cunt seem tame.

As they came upon the farm, Desmond's chest tightened. He gazed at the stable over the fence and past the dirt yard. "Horses," he whispered. "Oh, fuck."

"Yes, master," she whispered back. She pulled him down and kissed his lips sweetly, tail flicking. Although she felt disdain for Desmond for having humiliated her sexually, she felt a kind of love for him, as well. It was a soft, feminine feeling; she wanted to see him satisfied, and she believed nothing would satisfy her degenerate summoner quite like a mare's sex.

"But what about the people inside?" Desmond asked, trepidation entering his voice.

"There is only a single caretaker," the goat explained. "And I'll deal with him. Don't worry, master - I won't kill him." She giggled and climbed the wooden fence with ease, her muscles powerful enough for her to lift herself without effort. Under the cover of darkness, the blackened goat moved for the ranch home. Desmond climbed after her a moment later, but he moved towards the stables. His heart was racing.

Only two minutes passed before Kap joined Desmond in the stable. The blacktongue left the wolf stunned into catatonia. When she and her mortal were through, she thought she might unlock his mind with a swift kick in the balls, or she might not. It would certainly be an interesting case for those mortal doctors - a middle-aged wolf suddenly dropping into a semi-vegetative state, only capable of babbling about things unspeakable and unknowable when sufficiently prompted.

She found the fox looking uncertainly at the impassive faces of the horses, each in its own stall. As she sidled up to him, she chuckled, "I expected to find you sampling their anuses, one by one."

"It's-, it's so new to me," Desmond admitted, wonder in his voice. "I've never been around a horse, let alone... [i]fucked[/i] one."

Kapricus hugged him in an arm. She giggled. "You'd never been around a girl before, let alone [i]fucked[/i] one. And you did a fine job of that, master." There was a hint of venom in her words; Desmond didn't notice it.

The fox touched the snout of a gelding tentatively. Docile as a result of his castration, he nuzzled into Desmond's fingers pleasantly. "This one seems nice," he said.

"He doesn't have balls," Kap snorted. "But if you wanted to smell him, I think he'd do fine."

Desmond looked at the demon warily. "No balls? What-?"

Kapricus giggled. She slid her fingers over Desmond's groin, little digits making his little erection feel quite big. "Geldings, master, geldings. Castrated stallions. Something you mortals have done for centuries to keep their noble steeds docile, or so I've heard. Perhaps I could make [i]you[/i] a gelding, and then our lovemaking would be less vicious."

Desmond huffed and pulled away from her. She giggled again, teeth showing with particular contrast on her now black face. "Well go on, master. Smell him. Considering what's happened to his balls, I'm sure this is the only love he'll ever get..."

The demon unlatched the gate into the gelding's stall. The horse looked down at her and Desmond both impassively. His large eyes were entirely at peace, the same as his body language.

Desmond slipped in alongside the musky beast. He had to shimmy against the edge of the stall. Kapricus slipped in on the other side and beat Desmond to the horse's rear. She ran a soft hand over his black haunches, a smile on her face. Her fingers wrapped around the somewhat hay-strewn bundle of the horse's tail and lifted it up, exposing a plump, dark equine anus and a long-healed scar where the beast's scrotum had once been.

"God, I can smell it from here," Desmond huffed. His ears splayed back. He fondled himself through his sweat pants absently, as though his penis comforted him in this time of uncertainty.

"As can I," said the girl, a low growl in her chest. The smell was thick and earthy. Sweat glistened on the horse's body, but especially on his smooth flesh. If Desmond would not sample the beast's smell, she would.

Desmond leaned in. Tentatively, with paws on the horse's round behind, he brought his nose closer and closer to the animal's anus. Its rim, tightly puckered and incredibly thick, winked as if in invitation. Desmond closed his eyes and touched the black pad of his nose against the pucker; his nostrils flared as he inhaled, sucking powerful musk deep into his lungs.

Kapricus watched intently, her tail whipping, spade tip scraping against the wall of the stall with the noise of a scrounging rat. "Good, master, [i]good,[/i] smell this beast, partake of what I've given you," cooed the small demon. "Breathe deeply. You see what I've done for you?"

"Yes. Yes, I see," Desmond said softly, reverently. "Oh, my god. Thank you. Thank you, Kapricus." Another smell, this one deep and sharp. The goat grinned. She began to feel love for him again. It was his eagerness which she so enjoyed, and it was a kind of empathy, joy for the pleasure he felt. Kapricus found these feelings alien, but pleasant.

"Enjoy yourself, master," she purred. "And I will do the same."

The goat let herself out of the stall and took to another. The mares she passed by, for while their anuses would also be ripe with barnyard musk, she wished to leave their plump vulvas for the mortal. It was the stallion she wanted, that lone intact boy with the wherewithal to fuck and squirt his mighty seed. Although her youthful sex ached even now, she had begun to think of this stallion and his powerful cock. Not to be penetrated, oh goodness no, but to savor a massive, monstrous phallus against her new body.

The stallion was a great brown draft horse. His body was of impeccable musculature, his size big but not insurmountable. He eyed Kapricus with fire in his gaze. He snorted at her. The little demon petted his snout, feeling no fear, feeling in fact kinship with this beast, for was she not also a beast of burden? As a demon she was called upon to work; only she was lucky enough to have ancient power and wisdom at her disposal. Still, she liked this horse and his attitude. She kissed his snout, cooing to him, whispering him with her feminine gentleness.

As Kapricus calmed the stallion enough that she could begin her dirty work, Desmond slipped out of the stall of the first gelding. He was grinning with almost drunken pleasure. He stopped to undress and left his garments draped over the stall door. The gelding looked after him boredly, feeling no jealousy, no interest as the foxcoon slipped into the stall of one of the mares.

The mare regarded him with more interest. When he petted her, she nuzzled back quite fondly and emitted a soft nicker. As he made his way along her body, eagerly moving to that which he craved most, she tracked him for as long as she could and then turned her head back with about the same disinterest as the gelding.

Kapricus, with the aid of an upended pail to stand upon, nosed up under the long black tail of the stallion. Her nostrils pushed against the thick rim of the horse's anus. Sweat droplets dotted its surface and the smell of it was harsh and potent, an advanced musk to say the least, but Kapricus was an advanced smeller of musks. She drew in several huffs in succession, following each with a blissful sigh. Her fingers fondled the stallion, caressing heavy black balls, marveling at their girth and weight. She had been with Desmond for so long that the horse's size was otherworldly.

The stallion snorted. He bucked somewhat but Kap held fast to him. She waited for the kick but one never came, and she resumed her greedy sampling of the horse's anal musk. Growing wet, feeling lust for this dumb beast which Desmond had nearly fucked out of her, the small demon began to fondle the horse's sheath which had not yet disgorged the cock it held. It amused her that he was not aroused; the dumb animal had no idea the kind of fine treatment he was getting.

A couple stalls over, Desmond was having the time of his life. His nostrils dragged over the mare's anus and vulva, smearing like lipstick. He sucked deep greedy lungfuls of musk-scented air off of her genitals. His great pink tongue slopped over her sex, across its sturdy black lips and the thick anal ring above it. His laps left stripes of drool on the mare's flesh, filling in the spots where sweat left gaps. In that moment he loved Kapricus, the little imp. He loved her, him, whatever the demon chose to be for giving him this pleasure which he held so dearly.

Desmond mouthed the thick lips of the mare's cunt. He sucked them, pried them open with his fingers. As the lips spread and the hot, wet smell of pussy hit his face in all its vulgarity, he groaned in sexual desire and he packed his snout deep into horse's vagina. Fit for a stallion, her vaginal walls welcomed his pointed snout, hugging his face in their humid depths. Desmond inhaled from deep within her, breathing air more pheromone and musk than oxygen. Unconsciousness threatened but the fox felt only pleasure in the delirium. His small cock throbbed with the excited rhythm of his heart, squirting small ribbons of precum into the hay floor.

In another stall, Kapricus stood beneath her beloved stallion. She stroked his fat, mottled cock in both hands, rubbing its tremendously flaring head against the tiny curves of her would-be breasts. His precum glazed her body, making her glisten salaciously, and the smell of his penis delighted her almost to the extent his thick-smelling anus did. She was cooing, moaning for the stallion in a way she had not moaned when Desmond popped her cherry. She liked this horse; she respected his size and strength. If he had fucked her, it would have pure agony, she knew - but it would have been well-earned agony. Being made prostrate by Desmond and his sorry three inches was a humiliation through and through.

The demon was grinning and blushing, hugging the horse's cock to herself, grinding upon it and hoping eagerly to be painted white in thick and fertile equine seed. She lapped along its length, nuzzled at the middle ring. She humped against it, grinding the flaring head broadside into her young pussy. And the stallion humped her, he bucked back, snorting and snuffling, stopping just short of rearing up on her. She fondled him so thoroughly and dearly, hands roaming from head to balls and back. Fingers tracing thick veins, smearing on unreal amounts of precum. Willing the beast to cum for her, to paint her and satisfy her.

With a neigh and a series of bucks so severe that Kapricus was pushed back as she held onto the horse's penis, the stallion erupted into his climax. From his fully-flared penis came overwhelming ropes of thick and hot cream. It washed over her belly, over her sex. She moaned whorishly and pulled back, aimed the cock higher, closing her eyes in the nick of the time to have her black color buried under a deluge of semen. It gushed from the horse's heavy balls in sticky strands. It made webs in her fur. The smell was strong and coppery, almost like blood. Before the flow had finished, Kapricus pushed her lips against the head of the horse's penis and she gulped down what blasted into her maw. One hand held aloft the horse's penis for this kiss, the other rubbed her young sex, masturbating, pushing the semen inside where she was infertile but desperate to feel the semen of a champion inside of her. The sensation was one of almost pure bliss; Kapricus came with shockingly little effort. Being bathed in the powerful animal's cum after sampling his anal musk pushed the small goat's buttons far more effectively than she realized.

Around the time Kapricus was sharing her orgasm with the noisy stallion, Desmond had just slid into the mare. His muzzle was shiny, dripping with her vaginal secretions. His penis would now have the same sheen. As he pushed into her, his worries that he would be too small were assuaged by the tightness of her cunt. The lips were fine curtains to push through, the vagina proper a perfect pink tunnel which squeezed him. His delight was complete when he felt the mare's clitoris wink against his scrotum.

"Oh fuck, oh yes," Desmond wheezed, and he fucked the mare - sort of. It was his awkward deflowering of Kap all over again, except now he never found his rhythm. Now he didn't have to. Several clumsy pumps were all Desmond managed. As he pushed into the passive mare for perhaps the sixth or seventh time, he fell against her back and he shuddered. He was cumming, and hard. His mess slopped into her deep cunt a pitiful distance but the foxcoon did not care how he stacked up next to a stallion. He had at last sampled horse pussy, and as his penis twitched inside of the mare's cunt, he felt complete and utter peace.

The small demon let herself into the mare's stall. Her body was slimy with cum, most of which clung to her black fur. It was beginning to congeal. Its presence down her front gave the impression of a crudely-painted, backwards skunk stripe.

"Master," said Kapricus softly, sweetly. "Did you enjoy yourself as much as I did?"

"Even more," the fox huffed, nuzzling the mare's back as he draped over it. "Thank you so much for this, Kapricus. As if you hadn't given me enough pleasure already, you did [i]this[/i] for me..."

The demon smiled softly. The love she felt for Desmond, the warmth at his complete and total satisfaction was abhorrent. She wanted to be male again. She missed testosterone and overbearing lust. The orgasms were less intense but the sex was so much simpler. And she wanted to sample horse pussy too, the male way. Quite smugly, Kapricus believed had she been male, she would have [i]satisfied[/i] the horse Desmond draped himself over.

It was, of course, a thought for another time. It would be days before she had the energy to make herself male again or even change back the shade of her fur. She touched the foxcoon's hip and asked him softly, "Would you like to go home now, master? It's late. Storms are coming."

[i]And I suppose I should awaken that caretaker. Before he has permanent brain damage.[/i] The idea made Kap smirk.

"I'm done here," Desmond said in tacit agreement. He pulled back from the mare, sighing as he did. Looking at her genitals again made him want to linger. He stepped off the crate he'd used as a platform and leaned in, gave the horse's anus a gentle sniff in parting.

Out of the mare's stall, Kapricus walked with Desmond after he dressed. She paused before the stallion, who appeared much more docile now, though still sporting fire in his eyes the geldings did not possess. She grabbed Desmond's arm and said with a giggle, "Oh, but master, before we go, you [i]must[/i] sample this one..."

The fox looked at the stallion, then down at his penis, presently hanging flaccid. "I don't know," he murmured. "This one's-, he's intact, isn't he?"

Kapricus giggled. "He's a gentle boy. I never got kicked. Besides, you're only smelling him, not fucking him. He'll be just fine with that, I believe."

Desmond gnawed his lip. After his orgasm, he felt a bit more clear-headed. Still hungry for equine scents, but less a slave to his libido. He did, however, wish to try the intact stallion. The gelding he'd tried had had a fine smell about him; he wondered if the stallion would be any richer.

"Gimme a second," he said to Kapricus sheepishly, and he slipped into the stall. The stallion eyed him, snorted, but remained otherwise passive.

The foxcoon came around to the stallion's rear-end. He pulled aside the horse's tail without so much as a friendly rub on the bottom. Delicately he smelled the sweat-streaked flesh of the stallion's balls; he did not catch the low nicker which issued from the stallion. His nose touched the horse's anus and he smelled deeply, shuddered, smelled again even harder. The scent was so rich, so heady. It crossed his mind what an absolute degenerate he was. But he was past caring. He smelled harder and his penis began to stiffen again.

Kapricus was happy to see Desmond enjoying himself. But she had not forgotten or forgiven the way he had made her feel so used, so insignificant, so [i]mortal.[/i] She moved in close to the stallion and made ready to spook him, but before she could, Desmond had the unwise idea to wrap his lips around the stallion's anus. Desmond managed one firm suckle before the horse decided enough was enough.

Neighing mightily, the stallion reared, then bucked, shoving Desmond back. The fox thudded against the rear of the stall startled but unharmed. He looked at the tensing horse dazed and frightened, and he believed himself lucky he had not suffered worse. That was the moment when the stallion kicked off the ground and smashed both of his rear hooves into Desmond's loins, striking the foxcoon's testicles with so much force that the glands came perilously close to rupturing and they immediately, reflexively drew up into the cavity of Desmond's body.

A shriek seemingly sharp enough to crack glass was wrenched from Desmond's throat and the fox fell to the hay, clutching himself, wailing in abject pain between heaving retches into the hay. Kapricus came into the stall quickly as if to see if he needed medical attention, but the truth was much more typical: she was excited by the violence and the pain her summoner had just been through. She fell against the wall of the stall and lost herself in a fit of uproarious giggles.

"Both hooves!" she shrieked, screaming with laughter. [i]"Both hooves,[/i] right in your [i]balls!"[/i]

The demon's screaming giggles were the last thing Desmond heard before he lost consciousness.