A bit of back-story, and a begining

Incubi and Succubi speak in reverent and fearful tones of "the Porn King." Once it had been an ordinary incubus -- or perhaps a succubus, as the Magicks it wields obscure its original identity. It is without permanent form, without gender. Of all the sex demons, only the Porn King had the will to sacrifice the pleasures of the flesh for a greater power -- it is a formless, sexless being that will never again feel an orgasm, a fate worse than **** for a sex demon. Yet by making this choice it had ascended to a higher plane of being and gained power to warp reality itself. True to its original nature it still fed on the powerful mystical energies released by orgasm, but while ordinary incubi and succubi were limited to the targets they physically got off, just one or two victims at a time (or seven, for the particularly talented) the Porn King could feed off entire cities. Formless, it could be nowhere and everywhere within the range of its influence, a range which would grow with each gasp of pleasure, each joyful release.

Of course, such power does not come without a price. Formless itself, the Porn King was tied to certain mystical artifacts, foci through which its power could manifest on the physical plane. The physical forms of these artifacts in turn affected the nature of the sexual frenzy the Porn King would induce. Some would generate particular fetishes as side effects of the Porn King's power, others would vastly increase its influence over parts of the population and the mystical energy it could absorb from them, at the expense of allowing increased resistance or even immunity among others. In modern terms, each artifact would generate a different genre or subgenre of porn in the target population.

When such an artifact finds its way to a focal point of mystical energy -- Cleveland, for instance -- the effects are particularly quick and powerful. And so it came to pass that one such artifact found its way to Sunnydale, a quiet little abattoir of a town nestled in the hills of southern California. With the power of a hellmouth to draw on, the artifact awaited only the touch of a human hand to activate it.

Joyce Summers was immensely pleased. She'd negotiated a showing Hellenistic Greek artwork -- pottery, mostly but with a few statues in the mix as well. Not many suburban galleries could make such a claim. To outmaneuver venues in Sacramento, San Fransisco, and even Los Angeles was quite a feather in her cap -- maybe she'd finally make enough of a name for herself that she could move away from Sunnydale. With Buffy out of high school and Dawn due to graduate soon she was no longer tied to a school district that didn't object to her girls' somewhat checkered pasts. She smiled, imagining someplace comparatively safe. Watts, Hell's Kitchen, Beirut...

She opened another crate and removed the object inside from the layers of insulating material. If she had been mystically active herself she'd have felt a jolt letting her know this was an object of power, but being an ordinary woman (in that respect, at least) it felt like an ordinary piece of Greek art.