The imps got SPC Stewart Peter Bate. Those damn fucking imps. They looked like children, but with sly, adult's faces.
Bate thought they'd turned it around as well. He'd thought they were going to make it. Whatever pocket of H-space dimensional weirdness that was preventing their guns from firing had passed. Sarge ran through the big succ with a piece of steel rebar and then the rest of the squad opened up and the air was filled with bloody bits of imp. God, it had felt so good to pull the trigger and feel the kick of his SAW. Like seeing an old friend after a couple of years' of absence.
Then he'd felt a pricking pain in his butt and turned around to see one of the imps had sneaked around behind him and jabbed him in the ass with her trident. The world tilted 90˚ to the right and the last thing he saw before everything went black was the imp's gloating face.
And now... where?
He was upright, but not standing. It felt like he was chained to a wall, but with manacles that extended from his hands to his biceps. Manacles that felt more like muscular throats. His legs were swallowed up the same way. As if four monstrous snakes were trying to eat him alive. A look around reassured him it was just holes in the wall. Not that it was much reassurance. The wall looked like living red meat.
Bate was naked and embedded in a big wall of meat. This was fucking bad. He'd watched Aliens.
The way the wall moved—wriggled—against him felt... unwholesome. It made him feel dirty. Like he was a kid again and exposed to something sexual that was inappropriate for his age.
The wall opposite was the same mass of meat—red and shuddering as if under the influence of a great unseen heart.
Had something eaten him?
In contrast to the fleshy walls, the floor was dark stone and cut into regular square blocks. Each block had a strange symbol carved into it. Bate couldn't stare at the glyphs for too long. They made him feel dirty right down to the soul, like a bad ole uncle had touched him somewhere he shouldn't.
At least he wasn't alone. He heard ragged breathing to his right.
"Kowalski, that you?"
Bate would recognize that breathing anywhere. Fucker always sounded like he needed to give his nose a good blow.
Bate turned his head to the right and tried to put the wet feeling of his ear pressing against the moist yielding surface of the flesh wall out of his mind. The wall was curved like a wide pillar and he couldn't see anything beyond the curve.
"The others here?" Bate asked.
"Dunno," Kowalski replied. "There's a dude on the other side of me, but his head's fubared."
Bate could hear.
"She sucked him in. She sucked him right into her pussy. And then she..."
Over and over again in low murmurs, like a glitched track. He was gone. No use to them.
What about the other side?
There was someone there. He heard them muttering the Lord's Prayer under their breath, barely loud enough to be audible.
"Hey buddy. You okay there?" Bate called to them.
They carried on reciting the Lord's Prayer under their breath.
Guess not, Bate thought.
He pulled on his right then left arm in an attempt to tug himself free. Every time Bate thought he might be making progress the 'throat' would contract and suck his arm back down. Until, exhausted by his exertions, he had to give up.
An aperture, like a great pussy or asshole, opened in the far wall over to Bate's left and a succ entered, followed by a retinue of scarlet imps. Succ, short for succubus, the name given to the larger hindigs, on account of them looking just like the bat-winged sexy devil girls of videogames. Female, tall and busty, they looked like living, breathing sex symbols, and this one was no different. She was six foot in height and her black hair was big and frizzy as if she'd just stepped out of an 80s music video. She walked on high heels in a way that fully accentuated the curves of her ass and chest. She was wearing some kind of shiny black teddy that was stretched tight by her chest. The tops of her tits were clearly visible sticking out of her bodice like ripened melons.
Fucking succs. They looked and moved like girls you only saw in wet dreams. They made you want to fuck them so bad. Even with the horns, the bat wings and—in her case—the bluish pale skin that made her look like a body left in an icebox. Even though you knew you shouldn't. Bate had heard the stories about the men that had. They never ended well.
Seeing those legs, that ass, those tits, and knowing you were utterly damned if you gave into temptation... that was the worst kind of hell.
The black-haired succ and her entourage of scarlet imps moved out of Bate's view. He thought they were just passing through until he heard loud moans and sighs coming from the other side of the flesh column. It sounded like someone was getting a nut off and didn't care who heard. The cries went on for a while, hit a peak and then stopped. There was a short pause, and then someone else started sighing and moaning like they were being blown by a hooker with a Dirt Devil in her throat.
"Kowalski, what's going on?" Bate asked.
"Dunno. Can't see."
The sex moans rose and then ebbed away. Silence. Then more sex moans from another point, closer to Bate's right, along the wide flesh pillar. The moans rose to an absurd peak before cracking and then fading away.
"Fuck, she's here," Kowalski said.
And then his voice broke into a series of oohs and aahs as if he was a receiving a grade A fucking from a thousand-dollar ho.
There were other sounds as well—wet slurping sounds, too wet for even the world's sloppiest blowjob. Bate turned his head as far as it would go, but still he couldn't see around the curve of the flesh pillar.
The wet, slurpy sounds grew louder and sloppier. Kowalski's moans rose above them before tailing off in an exhausted rattle. Then...
Bate heard the clicking sounds of the succ's high heels against the stone floor. She rounded the pillar and turned to face him.
to be concluded...