Let's Play Monmusu Quest: Paradox! part 41

Witch Hunt Village (The Choice)

Welcome to part 41 of my Monmusu Quest: Paradox playthrough.  The first part of this insanity can be found back here.

Currently we're off to Witch Hunt Village to play peacemaker in demon civil war.  It's not the easiest place to get to as we have to circle around the edge of the mountain range to the north.

The northern deserts have slightly different monsters.  Crocodile girls and cobra girls from Sphinx's pyramid become regular encounters.

Once we get off the sands it's time to see some brand new monster girls.  Big Spider.

Big nope.

Her temptation attack is to wrap our dick in sticky silk.

Then it's nope and even more nope as she climbs on Luka's back and a tube comes out of her abdomen for intensive sperm sucking.

The artwork didn't hit the spot for me at all with this one.  Her head is a weird size, her expressions odd and the colouration makes it look like she has a beard.  Nope, nope, nopity nope (and I even quite like arachnes).

Because it is such a long way around the mountains I decide to leave off the temptation attacks until I reach the village.

At the village someone in witchy gear meets us and tells us there are no problems.  Lily is the feudal lord and everything is in hand.

Both Sara and Alice, who have various ruling claims to this area, acknowledge they have to get to the bottom of what's going on.

We run into one of the villagers.

Yep, nothing to see here.  Nothing at all…

Her wormy arms are a power gifted to her by Lily.  The village used to burn witches and the men used to treat the women abominably.  Lily put a stop to this and everyone loves her.  There isn't a male character in the village that isn't either an old dude or young boy.  This is not suspicious in the slightest…

The battle-fucker also has a witchy look to her.  A little too manic.

She does have variations in her artwork, which is a change.  To be honest, I think the battle-fucker thing has been one addition to Paradox that hasn't really seemed necessary.  This might have something to do with my irrational hatred of the sound of a saxophone.

Lily greets us at the entrance of her mansion and takes us to one side to give her story.

Yep, they massacred all the dudes.  But they deserved it, honest.

Hmm, if you say so, Lily.

She asks us if we'll help her to put down the resistance by taking out opposition leader, Lucia.

We don't have to make the decision now.  We decide not to and after leaving the mansion a representative of the other side asks us to come along and hear their side of the story.  The opposition is hiding in a house on top of the hill in the upper north-east corner of the village.

A previously-locked door is now open and Lucia can be found in the basement.

I didn't remember Lucia being so endowed in the chest department in the original series.  That might have been because I was too busy trying to stop her gobbling up Luka with her giant grub arm last time around.

In the previous series Lily was a mad alchemist/sorceress that took over the village as revenge for how she'd been treated by the village.  Lucia was one of her 'experiments' and got her revenge by gobbling Lily up.

This time around Lucia was Lily's primary research assistant.  This civil war has kicked off over a difference in ideology.  Lily wants to spread her cure out across the world to care of the evil menz everywhere.  Lucia thinks that will end up in the power being abused and twisted so that it's a tool for the strong to oppress the weak.

Okay, so it looks like we're getting another choice between characters.  As with Alice and Ilias at the beginning I guess it's a case of picking whichever one we want in the party.

I'll sleep on it and make the choice tomorrow.

New Erotic Horror Short - Sandwiched by Spiders

The new short is up.

You can get it for the cheap price of $0.99 from:
Amazon
Smashwords
Kobo (it's 99p rather than $0.99 as that's the lowest price they'd allow me to set)

Smashwords will also distribute it to other eBook platforms.  If you can't find it on your eBook retailer of choice, let me know and I'll try and get it up there.

Also, as this is the first time I've done this solo rather than through my regular publisher, Excessica, if you notice any horrific formatting issues please let me know as soon as possible.  I tested the conversions out on each of the sites beforehand, but I've worked in IT long enough to know that's no guarantee some device somewhere won't chuck a fit trying to render the ebook code.

As for the story:


Sandwiched by is a new sexy series of monster girl erotic horror shorts from the master of dark erotica, M.E. Hydra.  The first, “Sandwiched by Spiders”, sees a man entangled in the wicked webs of two spider demonesses.

Jonathan Mustard doesn’t believe in karma.  As a successful IT contractor constantly on the move around the country he’s been able to maintain a double life as a killer of cats with no consequences.  This changes when he’s witnessed in the act by a strange young girl.  Now karma is stalking Jonathan through his dreams in the form of two gorgeous spider demonesses, L’hassia and L’katipia.  They intend to make him pay for his cruelty . . . in the sexiest way possible.

Sandwiched by.  One dude, two sexy babes.  A perfect fantasy . . . or maybe not . . .


And a little excerpt to whet the appetite:


“Shush,” she said.

Then she shushed him with her lips.  Moist and warm, they pressed against his as she lowered her head and kissed him.  Jonathan’s thoughts vanished in a haze.  For a moment he forgot what she was . . . forgot where he was.  He was conscious only of the movement of her lips, her tongue playfully jousting with his, the heat she transmitted to him.  Blood flowed to his loins in slow, pleasant throbs.

It was a dream.  For a moment it had veered into a nightmare so vivid it had tricked him into thinking it was reality.  Now it was dream again.  Maybe even a wet dream.  It had been a while.

She continued the kiss and Jonathan felt so giddy and light it was as if he’d detached from the floor and was floating up to the ceiling.  He span slowly, as though he was a child’s mobile dipped in honey.  He felt like he was being wrapped up nice and snug as well.  Snug and comfortable like someone was rolling a warm duvet around him on a cold winter night.

Why did this duvet feel so sticky?

The pleasant haze lifted.  Jonathan opened his eyes and saw the red-haired spider-girl was wrapping him up in silk like a spider cocooning its catch.  A single thread of silk spooled from the orifice at the tip of her abdomen.  She turned him in place with her eight legs and wound the thread around his body.  His legs were already bound together and now his arms were bound to his sides.  He couldn’t move.  Worse, wherever the silk came into contact with his naked flesh he felt an enervating sensation that left him feeling floppy and unnaturally relaxed.

“Stop it!” he cried.  “Don’t eat me!”

The red-haired spider-girl paused.  She pouted luscious red lips and blew him a kiss.  Then she continued winding silken threads around his body until he was completely cocooned from chin to toes.  Once she’d finished she suspended him like a hunk of meat in a larder.

The two spider-girls, balanced on silvery threads, stood before him.  Their eyes—all of them—were bright.

“Hello, I’m L’hassia,” the red-haired spider-girl said.

“I’m L’katipia,” the other girl said.

Their faces moved across Jonathan’s field of vision as the thread supporting him slowly twisted back and forth.

“What do you want with me?” he asked.

“We’re arachnes,” L’hassia said.

“Supernatural sex assassins,” L’katipia elaborated.

Jonathan realised they hadn’t bound all of him up.  They’d left a gap that exposed his groin and buttocks.  L’hassia reached in to fondle his balls and stroke a hand up and down his shaft.

“We’re going to do naughty naughty things to you,” L’hassia purred.

“Now pick which one of us you’d like to stick your prick in,” L’katipia said huskily.


It is a short, about 5,500 words.  The Sandwiched by series is an experiment in putting out work more regularly and at a cheaper price.  I hope you enjoy the first installment.  The second, "Sandwiched by Slime Girls", will follow in February.

Succubus Summoning 209 (part 7)

And the last part (sort of)

* * * * 

He lowered his burning sword.  “This was never a fair fight,” he called up to the succubi in the stands.

He recognised the collar as the one Brennan had made, supposedly to keep daemons under control, although it had failed to protect Brennan from Nÿte.  It was much more effective on L’mactia.  Her face contorted in agony as the collar crackled and scorched her.  Segmented legs twitched spasmodically as magical sparks fizzed through her.

“It could never be a fair fight,” Nÿte said.  “L’mactia has killed many experienced warlocks.  You’re just a novice.  Without the collar you’d already be dead.”

Phil knew that.  He realised now why L’mactia had focused on defence.  The collar had prevented her from mounting any attacks.  It had never been a fight.  The succubi had set it up to look like one, but in reality it had more in common with the slaughter of a muzzled and hobbled beast.

“What now?” Phil asked.

“That’s up to you,” Nÿte said.  “Her life is in your hands.  You can slay her in revenge.  Or spare her and let her go.  What do your teachings tell you?”

Phil remembered The Scrote’s lessons.  A warlock should always be ruthless, he’d said.  Kill a defeated foe rather than giving them a chance to come back stronger.

The theory was easier than the reality.

L’mactia was sprawled before him.  Her head was bowed.  “I won’t beg,” she said.

He couldn’t do this.  In the heat of battle, to defend himself, yes.  But not this.  Not the cold-blooded execution of a defeated and helpless opponent.

“Where’s your anger?” Nÿte said.  “She tried to give you a slow and lingering death and nearly killed you.  Don’t you want revenge?”

Phil looked at the defeated spider daemon.  One quick blow to the neck.  It would be fast.

What revenge was this anyway?  The person who’d wanted him dead was Emma Brennan and he couldn’t kill her because someone else had already killed her.  L’mactia was a tool.  Raging at her was as pointless as raging at a gun.

He thought it but recognised it for the feeble dissembling it was.  He couldn’t do this.  Not in cold blood.

His flaming sword flickered out of existence.  The flames surrounding him died away.

“Nope.  Can’t do it.  Not murdering a helpless individual.”

He walked away.  What a shit-poor excuse of a warlock he was.

L’mactia looked up in surprise when the killing blow failed to arrive.  She struggled free of the tangling vines, but rather than charge Phil she ran away and skittered up one of the arena walls.  It was Nÿte she ran to.  And not to attack.  She prostrated herself before the succubus in black.  Then she got up and they shared a passionate kiss.  Afterwards she sat next to Nÿte and rested her head in the succubus’s lap.  To Phil it looked like she was trying very hard not to cry.

Nÿte ran her hand through the spider daemon’s black hair.  She took the collar off and placed it around her own pale neck.  She smiled down at Phil and gave him a little nod.

This left Phil thoroughly confused.  Had he been supposed to kill L’mactia?  Or not?

The portcullis rose behind him and he hurried out of the arena before the succubi decided to give him an even worse daemon to fight.  He went back to the changing room even though he had nothing to change or change back into.  His robe had burnt away when he’d set himself and L’mactia’s web on fire.

He sat on one of the stone benches with his head between his knees.  He had to get away from here.  And Wargsnouts.  He wasn’t a warlock and would never be one.

Rosa walked in with Carny.  “Not one of yours then,” she said to Carny.  “Are you disappointed?”

“He never was,” Carny replied.  “You wouldn’t have set such a hard challenge if you’d thought otherwise.”

He walked over to Phil and offered a good-natured fist bump.

“Fine showing there, dude,” he said as Phil tapped his knuckles.

“It was all fake,” Phil replied morosely.  “She couldn’t fight back.”

“Well, yeah,” Carny said with a laugh.  “Human versus daemon normally only ever has one outcome.  That’s why you guys summon us to fight for you.”

Phil felt soft and weak.  He couldn’t even kill the spider daemon that had tried to kill him.

“Did I do the right thing?” he asked.

The rage daemon shrugged.  “Hard to say with these things.  The consequences of mercy are difficult to predict.  Today’s beaten foe might become tomorrow’s ally.  Or the indignity of the defeat might linger and fester away until they become an implacable nemesis that cares only for revenge.  There are no right choices.  Either outcome is possible.  Only time will tell.”

Phil shuddered at the thought of an arachne like L’mactia becoming his nemesis.

“I think you’ll be fine,” Carny said.  “I doubt she’ll bear a grudge any more than she’d have shed a tear over your death.  Her kind are known for their detachment.”

Carny was hunkered down as he stared into Phil’s glum face.  He frowned.  He put his hands on either side of Phil’s head and peered more intently.

“Oh,” he said.  “Verdé you silly girl,” he murmured, more to himself.  His face brightened and his usual easygoing smile returned.  “Not your fault,” he said to Phil.  “It was her choice to make.  Maybe it was the right one.”

Phil wondered where Verdé was.  Cέrμləa and Nurse Honey had also entered the room.  Verdé wasn’t with them.  He asked the succubi where she was.

“Intruders,” Cέrμləa said with exaggerated seriousness.

Intruders?  Did that mean they were under attack?

“Who?” he asked.

“Some students from your college found the portal,” Rosa said.  “It’s okay.  There are safeguards.  Any unwelcome guests are separated and redirected to random locations within the castle grounds.”

“That was my addition,” Cέrμləa said, beaming with pride.

“One landed in the outer forest,” Rosa added.  “Verdé flew off to find them.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Phil said.  “That place is dangerous.  They’ll need a helping . . .”

He saw the expressions on the faces of the other succubi.

“She’s not gone to help him, has she?” he said.

“Well, they are intruders,” Rosa said.

Phil grimaced.  “They’re fellow students.  Can we at least find out why they’re here first?”

Rosa shared a glance with Carny.  He was smiling.

“It’s unusual, but I suppose we could do that,” Rosa said.

“I’ll look for Verdé,” Nurse Honey offered.  “She likes to take her time with her prey.  There’s a good chance I can get there in time.”

“Where are the others?” Phil asked.

“I can do a divination to find them,” Cέrμləa said.

They rushed from the room, nearly bowling Nÿte over in the process.

“We’ve got to go rescue some novice warlocks,” Cέrμləa explained excitedly.

* * * *

Jack Stone hated the outdoors.  He hated the sun.  He hated mud.  He hated the smell.  He hated the noise.  He hated the trees.  As he trudged along an overgrown path he hated every sliver of misfortune that had brought him to this hateful place.

He walked into a clearing and saw a sexy chick waiting for him.  She was hawt.  Long silky green hair billowed around a beautiful face with full sensual lips.  Her billowing green robes left little to the imagination and her sexy figure matched anything between the pages of the porn stash he kept under his bed.  She looked like a beautiful elf princess . . . with a really dirty mind.

Stone did not hate that.

Behind her a weird plant peeled open and revealed a soft white inner layer.  It looked like a giant king-sized bed with a luxurious, super-soft mattress.  The top leaves were translucent and curled over to provide shade.

“You look hot and bothered,” the girl said.  “Why don’t you rest here for a while?”

She patted the white surface as if it was the bed it resembled.

“With me,” she added.  Her green eyes glittered with the promise of sex.

That sounded like a really good idea.  It was fucking hot.  She was hot.  He was sick of walking.  It would be good to lie down for a while, especially with a chick with a bodacious body like that.

Who had horns.

Stone’s brow wrinkled.  She had horns, wings and a tail.

Succubus!
Fuck, she must be trying to glamour him or some other mesmeric shit like that.  Luckily it hadn’t taken hold.

“Flambasglob!”

Flames sprang to life in his right hand and he tossed a fireball at the lust daemon.  Her seductive smile vanished and she yowled in pain as the ball of fire burst against her side.

Start of a kill streak, yeah baby.

Not quite, although he’d clipped her pretty good.  She held her side and grimaced as she got back to her feet.  Damn, he thought he’d put her down for good.  Now he’d have to hit her with something else.

Or maybe not.

The succubus gave him a fearful glance and then dashed off between the trees.

to be continued . . .

And you don't actually have to wait for this cliffhanger as the whole chapter has gone live on Literotica right here.

Succubus Summoning 210 should be out next month and I'm hoping to get the full Succubus Summoning 201 book out before the end of the year.  If you liked what you read, maybe I can interest you in some other work. ;)

Tomorrow I'll start the Violated Hero 5 playthrough. 

Succubus Summoning 209 (part 6)

Okay, let's see if Phil can put up more of a fight this time . . .

Also for new readers, Phil's previous sexy adventures are collected here in Succubus Summoning 101.  Give it a look if you like what you read here.

* * * *

L’mactia bent her legs and lowered her body down on him.  Her labia, puffed up like soft cushions, quivered in excitement.  Her abdomen expanded as she inhaled his energy.  L’mactia gave a low sigh of pleasure . . .

. . . which was cut off with a harsh exhalation of surprise.  She staggered.  The connection between them was broken.  Freed of the soporific weight bearing down on his mind, the cogs and gears of Phil’s brain clicked into life.

“Immolatum nida Flambastinaai!”

A nimbus of fire surrounded him and ignited the webbing in an explosion that knocked L’mactia aside.  The restraining silk burnt away and, free now, Phil rolled away.  As he stood up he realised he was still on fire, although he felt no heat or any kind of burning sensation.

Wow, this was so cool, he thought, looking at the flames flickering over his arms like busy snakes.  This was magic. This was what he’d wanted ever since Recruiting Officer Garner had given him that demonstration behind the McRestaurant.

No time to bask in the elation.  He still had the spider daemon to worry about.  He’d caught her in the explosion.  Patches of pale skin on her right side were blackened and singed.  It was little more than a scratch for her.  The burnt patches of skin were already healing and fading away.

“Gladucx nidafacii Flambastinaai.”

He focused on the flames flickering over his arms and willed them to form a sword.

Super cool.

Unfortunately, L’mactia had backed off to the rear of the arena and was preparing magic of her own.  She recited words Phil tried to pluck from the air, but these were too alien, too quixotic.  They slithered through the grasping fingers of his mind and were gone.  What they left behind was far more frightful.

“You could have had such a pleasant end,” she said.

A ball of dark energy formed in her palm and swelled up.  It hit football size and grew further still.  Green light, the colour of pus from a septic wound, flickered within the roiling ball of shadow.  A horrible, overwhelming sense of determination emanated from the ball.  Phil got the impression it was sentient.  And hate-filled, so malevolently hate-filled.  The ball wanted to smash him from existence and Phil sensed that even if he was able to get out of its way the ball would simply change course and continue to follow him.  It would chase and follow him and not stop until it had utterly obliterated him.

What now?

It didn’t matter.  On the verge of completing the spell, L’mactia staggered as if hurt and cried out in pain and frustration.  Her loss of concentration had disrupted the summoning and the ball of blistering dark energy evaporated before it could fully manifest in this plane.

Phil didn’t know what had caused her lapse, but he knew he had to take advantage.  He charged . . .

. . . and was nearly decapitated by one of her lashing legs.

Stupid.  Reckless.

He had to limbo beneath the scything limb, but in the process lost balance and tumbled on his ass.  Fuck, now he was totally open.

L’mactia didn’t take advantage, instead retreating along the curve of the arena wall.  Phil got back to his feet and was surprised to find himself in the role of aggressor.  He advanced and L’mactia backed away.  Could it be fear of the flames?  Rosa said they were vulnerable to fire.

Another clumsy swing—sword-fighting was much harder than how it looked in the swashbuckling films—gave L’mactia opportunity to put more distance between them.  She twisted her abdomen and squirted a thick strand of gooey silk at him.

Phil moved his hand in a circular motion.  “Shelduk nidafacii Flambastinaai.”  The living flame swirled and formed a shield in front of him.  The strands of silk hit the flickering flames and burnt away in harmless sprays of ash.

He threw fireballs at L’mactia with no success.  She moved in a skittering stop-start manner that made it difficult to track her movements or predict where she’d be at any one moment.  At best his fire kept her on the defensive, but for how long.

He was conscious his internal temperature was rising as he allowed more living flames through the portal he’d opened in his soul.

Burn her! the flames cried as they flowed out of his core and raced through his veins.

Set her on fire!

Set everything on fire!

Phil remembered Rosa’s words.  Summon too much flame and the warlock would be consumed by it—roasted and blackened like a chunk of charcoal.  He sensed that moment was approaching.  The flames wailed their frustration as Phil slowed their flow to a trickle.  The fire raging all over his body died right down.  No more fireballs for him.  He’d have to finish this with sword and shield.

L’mactia continued to keep her distance.  Why wasn’t she attacking?  Or using magic?

Phil was happy to get a break from her attacking.  It was stalemate though.  She was too fast and agile for him to get close to and she seemed reluctant to push the fight to him.  Unfortunately, he suspected the stalemate would last only until he was forced to put out the flame completely.  He needed to do something before then.

If only he could get her to stay still.

Then he remembered Verdé’s parting advice.

He went for another attack, but this one was a feint.  While L’mactia dodged backwards he took the opportunity to crouch down and lay a hand flat on the sandy floor.  Yes, he could hear it, feel it moving beneath him in the ground.

“Ĝiškimiti za bursaĝ ul Urpâdu ni Guberim li Išduum Qištu,” he called out to it.

L’mactia cried out in shock and surprise as green tendrils erupted from the sand beneath her and tangled around her legs and abdomen.  She was yanked to the floor and bound by tangling roots.  She bucked and swayed as she tried to pull her body free.  Now there was fear in her eyes as she saw Phil approach.

“Sheldak nida Magique.”

An anti-magic shield surrounded her.  Phil placed a hand on it . . .

“Dakshel exnida tanja vaarsta Magique.”

. . . and the shield dissipated into shards of light.

The flame sword in his hand was burning down and losing intensity.  It would still be enough.  L’mactia frantically muttered words of magic.  They backfired.  She yelped in pain as sparks burnt livid welts in her pale neck.  Phil raised his sword . . .

He noticed the black collar around her neck.  Electric blue sparks crackled around it.

Hey, wasn’t that . . . Oh.

It all made sense now.

Part 7 here

Succubus Summoning 209 (part 5)

Okay, enough trolling.  Here's Phil taking on L'mactia in a magical duel.

And as I'm no longer flying quite by the seat of my pants, I'll see if I can respond to some of the comments on the earlier parts.

* * * *

L’mactia was the arachne that had attacked Phil in the showers at Wargsnouts.  She recognised him and also looked surprised to see him there.

Nÿte had her on a leash.  It was attached to a black collar L’mactia wore around her pale neck.  The collar was the only thing she wore—the rest of her upper body was totally naked.  Her skin was unnaturally pale and possessed a bluish tinge that marked her out as a creature more at home in the dark cracks between realities.  As with the other succubi, her upper half was as generously proportioned as a typical glamour model—slim at the waist, voluptuous at the chest.  She had the high cheekbones and sensual lips of a gothic beauty.  Three pairs of red orbs adorned her forehead and temples.  They could have been mistaken for body jewellery, but Phil knew they were additional eyes.

What was she doing here?

Surely they didn’t expect him to fight her.  Arachnes weren’t an approved summon until at least the fifth year.  Later even than succubi.

Nÿte addressed the audience like a circus ringmaster announcing the next act.

“This is the lowly daemon that ambushed Master from the darkness and nearly took his life and soul.  We bring her here and present her to him, to deal with as he deems fit.”

Phil didn’t think it was going to work out that way.  More likely they’d just given the daemon a second opportunity to finish the job.

Nÿte unhooked the leash and whispered something in the arachne’s ear.  Then she opened her great black wings and flew up to the top row of seating to join Verdé and the others.

That left Phil alone in the ring . . . with L’mactia.

“You’re still alive,” L’mactia said.  Her blood-red lips curled up in a smile.

Phil watched the spider daemon warily.  He tried to remember what he knew about them.  They hadn’t been covered in his usual studies, but he remembered seeing them in one of the bestiaries of lust daemons he’d flicked through with Jake.

“What kind of pervert would summon one of them for sex?” Jake had joked as they’d looked at the pictures.  It wasn’t the most helpful of memories.

“I thought I’d left you dead for sure,” L’mactia said.   

Even though she’d been captured and brought here against her will, she still regarded Phil with amusement, as if he was nothing more than an entertaining little diversion.

She shrugged.  “I did warn her that such things were not precise, that it would be better to let me suck and suck until nothing was left of you but a pretty little shell, but she was most insistent on the matter.  I did not think much of her, in truth.  She was not as skilled as she believed herself to be.”

As she rolled her tongue around suck Phil felt a traitorous throb of interest in his crotch.  L’mactia sensed it too.  Her full lips came together in a seductive pout.

“I think you want me to take another suck,” she teased.

She tensed as if about to pounce and Phil instinctively jumped backwards, almost losing his balance in the process.

L’mactia laughed.  “So skittish.  I know your cock wants it.  It wants to be buried in my softest, wettest silk while my abdomen sucks and sucks and sucks.”

Her bloated black abdomen pulsed obscenely.  Sticky white liquid dripped from the tip and puddled on the floor.

Phil’s traitorous penis bulged out in an erection.  It remembered and wanted more.  Phil tried to push the distraction out of his mind.

L’mactia sensed the conflict and laughed.

“Mmm, let me prepare some really soft silk for you.  She sucked on a finger while her abdomen throbbed with lewd intent.

Phil threw a fireball at her.

L’mactia formed a circular shield of energy and swatted the fireball away.

“Feisty.”  She smiled.

Phil just about had time to summon an anti-daemon shield before L’mactia was on him.  Or rather, all over him.  Or at least would have been if it hadn’t been for his shield.  She wrapped her long black legs around it and reared up over him.  He felt the pressure of her body around his protective sphere transmuted to an invisible force pressing down on his skull. 

“I don’t know what they thought they were achieving by bringing me here,” L’mactia said.  “You’re barely a novice.  This shield is about as useful as a soap bubble.”

She placed a hand flat against Phil’s protective sphere.

“Dakshel exnida tanja vaarsta Magique.”

Phil’s shield dissipated as L’mactia dismissed it.  At the same time the tip of her bulbous abdomen flicked forwards and sprayed a thin stream of fine silk.  Her webbing found the gap in Phil’s robes and adhered to his crotch and inner thighs.

He really needed to steal a pair of underpants.

L’mactia flexed her abdomen back and Phil was yanked off his feet.  She dragged him beneath her body.  He looked up between the half-moon globes of her pendulous breasts and saw her smile triumphantly.

“There will be no revenge for you today,” she said.

Her abdomen quivered obscenely before spitting out a thick glob of webbing that glued Phil to the floor.

“Or maybe that was never the intention,” L’mactia said.  “Maybe you enjoyed the taste of my silky pleasures so much you wanted more.”

She reached back and rubbed her slowly throbbing abdomen.

“Very well, I’ll give you some of my special silk.”

Phil heard a lewd sound like thick cream bubbling out of a nozzle.  He felt a warm substance envelop his erection.  He felt his penis jerk as the spider daemon bobbed her abdomen up and down.  She manipulated Phil’s cock with threads of silk like a master puppeteer, causing a surge of blood and pleasure to rush to his crotch.  He tried to think of a way to escape this predicament, but L’mactia’s expert tugs kept breaking his concentration until his breath became ragged and exited his mouth in low pants.

“This time there are no special clauses,” L’mactia.  “No interruptions to disturb our pleasure.”

Her abdomen dropped lower.  Two chitinous plates at the front of her body—where her human half met her arachnid half, and where the vagina would be on a normal woman—slid open and her labia, puffy and swollen, emerged.  The strong musk of her arousal flowed out and covered Phil’s face like a smothering pillow.

“My kind’s reputation for cruelty is undeserved,” L’mactia said.  “Your end will be a sweet one.  I’ll bury your face in my luscious pussy while I drain you.”

The wet silk entwined around Phil’s cock changed, became a tube of pulsing dark energy.  It stroked up and down his erection, gently coaxing his own energy out.  Phil shivered as unearthly pleasures pulled at him.  All the tension had fled his body.  He felt like he was floating on a bubble.

Overhead he watched Verdé fly through a sky the colour of aroused flesh.  Her wings flapped, carrying her away from the arena.  Phil didn’t blame her.  He hadn’t put up much of a fight.

Oh dear.  That didn't go too well for our novice warlock. 

Part 6 here

Spiders, Silk and Sex

Oo-er, Succubus Summoning 201 has gone a bit...spidery. When the chapter goes up later this year (once I've got the whole arc down in rough draft), it'll probably be my first story up on Lit featuring that Monster Girl staple: the spider-girl or arachne.

It's not my first spider-girl story. Both of my previous spider-themed stories (there's one in the forthcoming Valentine's Day collection) managed to bypass Literotica somehow. Here's a taste of what you're missing from "Arachne's Web" in A Succubus for Christmas and other tales of Devilish Delights.

Gordon was underground, but he wasn't sure where. Unlike the other vaults he'd visited in his dreams lately, this room was so vast he couldn't see the walls in any direction. Old cobwebs formed gauzy hangings all around him. Dream or no, Gordon didn't want to see the spider that had produced them.

He picked his way through a forest of silken threads. They were sticky and stronger than they looked. Pulling them off his naked skin when he accidentally brushed into them was energy-sapping work.

Gordon heard a chuckle from above him, feminine and dripping with evil.

“So eager to return to my parlour, little fly,” the voice said.

Gordon looked up and saw Arachne sitting above him. She was completely naked and sat, suspended, in the white threads as easily as if they were a hammock or swing chair. Her green eyes sparkled and her luscious red lips curled up in a cruel smile as she looked down at him.

“You can't resist my body,” Arachne said with a smile.

Struck dumb, Gordon said nothing. He was mesmerised by the curve of her tits.

Arachne leaned back and opened her legs, baring the hairless gash of her pussy to him. As Gordon watched she reached down and caressed her smooth labia. One of her fingers slipped inside and her breathing roughened to soft little gasps. Gordon felt his own arousal grow as he watched her play with herself.

Arachne's gasps grew louder and huskier until finally she gave a strong shudder. He watched, astonished, as a stream of thick white liquid jetted from her pussy. The liquid solidified in the air to form white strands that floated down and stuck to his exposed flesh.

What the? Gordon thought.

It was silk, just the same as the old threads around him.

“I'm not letting you go now,” Arachne said, her luscious lips curled up in a cruel smile.

She sprayed more white fluid from her pussy and it rained down on Gordon in gossamer filaments. He tried to brush the strands away, but they adhered to his skin and tangled together like a net. When Gordon tried to back away he tripped over and fell into a dense knot of threads. Hopelessly entangled, Gordon could only look on as Arachne, moaning and sighing with pleasure, squirted more and more strands of silk over his supine form. They looked feathery-light, but Gordon couldn't break them and soon his arms were entangled as well.

Arachne laughed at his struggles. She flipped over onto her front, her hands grasping old threads as if they were ropes. There was something unnatural about her body, as if her arms and legs had joints in the wrong places.

Gordon paused in his struggles and watched in astonishment as Arachne descended down from above, supported by a thick white rope of silk extruded from her pussy. She abseiled down like a spider, flipping as she approached the ground to land lightly on her feet.

What was she? Gordon thought. The lithe curves of her body were absolutely breathtaking as she walked towards him, but there was something utterly alien about her that registered in his most primal senses. He resumed his struggles, desperate to escape the thing walking towards him.

Go on, you know you want to read what happens next...