"Oi, what are you up to, Greenie?" he asked Verdé. His prominent lower jaw jutted out like a bulldog's.
"I thought I saw a little bit of fluff on her arm," she said, all innocence as she withdrew her hand.
Mr Buggeritall eyeballed her.
A spark of mischief lit up Verdé's green eyes. "You can watch," she said. "I'm sure you'll enjoy the show."
Mr Buggeritall considered it...
...but not for very long.
He jammed a thumb against his chest. "The only one that gets to mess with toots is me," he said. "We're going to go far together."
Adriana gave an apologetic smile for her imp's antics, but there was none of the desperation Phil had seen before. It was as she'd said—she'd accepted it and come to an accommodation with the noisome imp's presence.
"You know it has to happen at some point," Verdé said.
"It will... when she's ready," Mr Buggeritall said with a determination that belied his tiny uncouth form.
The door to the test room opened and Phil's name was called out.
"I wouldn't worry," Adriana called after him. "I'm sure you'll be fine."
"Another one with promise," Verdé said as she and Phil walked to the test room. "Although she still has a long path to walk."
Phil was more concerned about his path coming to an end right here. He was looking at the succubus standing next to the open door and feeling anything but fine. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach and random facts and pieces of information swirled through his head in a great impenetrable swarm.
Phil really really hated tests.
He entered the room and saw it was as Adriana had described—the only people in the room were three of The Scrote's succubi. With a sinking feeling Phil recognised the one sitting in the chair opposite him. She was the one who'd made him ejaculate into her hand on the very first day he'd gone to one of Stine's fast-track lectures. She also recognised Phil and smiled as though he was a piece of livestock she'd already bought and owned.
"Ah, the student who summoned a pair of inferior lust daemons. Phil Rowling, isn't it?" she said.
Phil nodded. "Um, how should I address you, Miss...?" he asked.
"Miss?" The succubus laughed. "We're not decrepit husks. I am Astrapia, this is Seleucida and that is Paradisea. We are here to see if you are fit to call yourself master of daemons."
She gestured to an empty chair opposite her.
"Sit down and we'll begin."
Phil looked down at the chair. He repositioned it and sat down.
That seemed easy enough, he thought.
Then the succubi started to take their clothes off. Admittedly, they hadn't been wearing much to begin with—little more than the skimpy black costumes of showgirl dancers—but there was a big difference between not much and nothing at all. Phil's eyes boggled and his Adam's apple worked furiously as the sex daemons peeled off their bodices to expose the bulging pink hemispheres of their breasts. Was there a succubus that didn't have a body gorgeous enough to turn a glamour model green with envy?
The succubus that had shown Phil in, Paradisea, saw his discomfort and paused. "Surely as a master of succubi you must be used to this by now."
"Yes, what a splendid idea," Verdé said as she removed her diaphanous green robes and hung them over the back of Phil's chair.
Phil was once again surrounded by gorgeous naked woman. And as usual he wished he could enjoy it without being terrified for his life and soul.
"Why don't you take off your robe as well?" Seleucida asked.
"We're already naked," Paradisea said. "You'll feel more comfortable if you're naked as well."
"If you're worried about your size, you shouldn't be," Seleucida said.
"We don't care how big or how small they are," Paradisea said.
"We suck them all," Seleucida said.
"Fuck them all," Paradisea bent closer to whisper in Phil's ear.
And now Phil had a single, hard, reason to keep his robes on.
"As delightful as this all is, it is rather unnecessary," Verdé said.
to be continued...