Yep, the posting schedule is still wildly inconsistent, but at least the story is moving along.
This is a continuation of my long-running Succubus Summoning series. The first arc, Succubus Summoning 101, can be found at your nearest online ebookstore. Previous chapters in the Succubus Summoning 201 arc can be found here.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Succubus Summoning 212, part 4
"...this is not the only purpose of the test."
Deprived of his daemonic familiar, Darvill went for his knife. At the same time, the succubus sitting opposite him tapped the tip of her tail on the floor and an esoteric circle surrounding his chair lit up with spectral white light. A circle of subdual Darvill realised just as he was slammed back down on the chair as if gravity had increased tenfold around him. These circles were usually used to detain troublesome warlocks and other practitioners of the dark arts.
To his left the succubus pressed the squirming poly-Oc down into her lap. She flexed her hips and let out a little erotic sigh as a swirling pink translucent globe swelled up and enveloped the squirming daemon. A change came over the daemon. Its eyestalks stopped thrashing about and it floated languidly within the globe of pink light.
The succubus turned cold black eyes to Darvill. "You need not worry about your little pet."
She pressed her hips up against the ball of energy and her heavy eyelids fluttered as she let out another erotic moan. The daemon within gave a little shudder of pleasure and its eyes blinked slowly.
The succubus smiled down at the daemon and stroked the sphere of pink light. "As you can see, they're totally happy within my little bubble of bliss."
"What is going on here?" Darvill demanded.
Had he been too cocky? Were they trying to scare him as punishment for showing off?
The succubus sitting in front of Darvill glanced up at her companion. The other succubus loosened her bodice and turned it down to expose the firm pink mounds of her tits. She plucked a long pink plume from the back of her costume and ran her fingers through the fronds as though she was unsheathing a sword.
"I do believe you challenged me to show you more," she said.
She stepped in front of Darvill and stroked the feather against her body in a slow, sensual dance that showcased her long lissom legs and the firm, inviting curves of her chest and ass to devastating effect. No human exotic dancer could come anywhere close. Even though Darvill knew this was part of a spell to mesmerise him, it was still a battle to keep his thoughts clear and unclouded.
She walked around the edge of the circle. She caressed the side of Darvill's cheek with the tip of the plume. His skin tingled where the feather brushed against him and he felt a creeping lassitude spread out from the point of contact.
He squirmed ineffectually against the force pinning him to the chair.
"This is pointless," he said. "It's not a test if she coerces me. There is no succumbing to temptation if she takes away my free will with her charm magic."
"Test is over," the succubus walking around him said. She tickled the back of his ear with the plume and the hairs on the back of Darvill's neck stood up as a pleasant tingle ran through them. "Now it's playtime."
"The warlock world is a dangerous one," the succubus sitting in front of him explained, "full of intrigue and deadly feuds. Our master gave us two tasks. The first is to prod novice warlocks down the correct path. The second is to identify novice warlocks who might one day grow into threats to our master's position."
"Identify and eliminate," the succubus circling him said. She tickled Darvill's nostrils with her plume and his nose was filled with exotic, soporific perfume.
"You are clever and ambitious," the sitting succubus said. "Given time you could develop into a warlock powerful enough to challenge our master and others of his cabal."
"Unless we chop you down now, while you're still weak." The other succubus stroked her plume against Darvill's crotch and he felt a throb in his loins that had nothing to do with his own desires. "Chop you down before you have a chance to grow into a more troublesome opponent."
Darvill felt vertiginous reeling fear. Not a test. Not a hazing. An execution.
And he was outclassed. Even had he not been trapped within the circle of subdual, this trio were far beyond his level.
He was also without his daemon. A glance to his left and he saw the third succubus had both hands on the pink globe in her lap. She writhed, flexed her hips and pressed her sex to it. Bubbles rose in the shimmering pink sphere and the poly-Oc trapped within gave a weak, blissed-out shiver.
Darvill attempted to recite the standard emergency dismissal every student was taught. Rather than taking flight from his tongue, the words flopped, soundless, and were absorbed by the energies of the circle.
Figured. There would be glyphs in the design that prevented the casting of any spells.
The standing succubus completed her circuit and stood before him again. Eyes smouldering with lustful fires, she stepped into the circle, pushed his legs apart and went down on her knees between them. She reached up, popped the buttons of his shirt and then slithered up against him. The soft fleshy mounds of her tits rubbed against his exposed chest. Wherever her skin came into contact with his it left behind a pleasant tingly sensation that left his skin craving more. She slithered up until her face was level with his.
"You don't have to be afraid," she whispered. "Succubi are the gentlest assassins. Our victims depart this plane in a haze of unparalleled sensual bliss."
She twisted in his lap and rubbed the swell of her ass against his crotch in a final lap dance. The wriggling pressure sent blood surging down into his cock and it rose up against the fabric of his underwear.
Darvill was not ready to depart this plane just yet, in a haze of bliss or otherwise. The circle prevented the casting of new magic, but Darvill still had the protective anti-lust wards he'd carved into his arms after following Rowling's succubi into hell. Their power had faded as his flesh had healed, but they were still there, waiting to be activated. All Darvill had to do was bend one finger back to his palm, and...
to be continued...
Showing posts with label new fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label new fiction. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 29, 2016
Saturday, March 19, 2016
Succubus Summoning 212, part 3
A slight delay this week. I always knew this chapter would be a nightmare to write because of the various bits of background being revealed. Making this a weekly serial has finally got the overall series moving again, but expect the weekly updates to slide around a little.
This is a continuation of my long-running Succubus Summoning series. The first arc, Succubus Summoning 101, can be found at your nearest online ebookstore. Previous chapters in the Succubus Summoning 201 arc can be found here.
Part 1, Part 2
Succubus Summoning 212, part 3
As the succubus sitting down in front of Darvill asked the question, the other one standing at her shoulder ran her tongue around her luscious red lips. Her glittering black eyes were fixed on Darvill as she inserted a finger in her mouth and sucked. The finger, moist with her saliva, went down to the shadows between her legs.
"You don't need to do that," Darvill said. "I know what's going on here."
The lead succubus arched a pencil-thin eyebrow. "Really? And what do you think you know?"
Darvill glanced at the standing succubus. "I know she's trying to tempt me. I also know she's not using the full extent of her succubus abilities. And I also know why."
The two succubi shared a glance. "Do tell," the lead succubus said.
"There are seven circles of hell, each corresponding to a frailty of human nature, otherwise known as a sin. When a warlock successfully contracts with their first daemon they align themselves with the circle the daemon comes from. Beginning warlocks mistakenly believe this circle represents their strengths. It doesn't. It represents their weakness."
"Go on," the succubus sitting opposite said, her face a perfect unreadable mask.
"The first daemon does not come to us out of desire to serve or be our familiar, it comes—drawn by the vulnerabilities it senses in our character—to take our soul. That is what daemons desire—souls. They serve us because it gives them opportunities to harvest souls from the earthly realm, a plane they cannot otherwise reach, but only if we prove ourselves to be sufficiently strong of mind and discipline. A weak warlock is of limited benefit to a daemon.
"The first challenge every would-be warlock faces is to prove themselves to their daemon. They must demonstrate they have the strength of will to overcome their baser desires. And it is not just the one circle, they must show they are able to resist the temptations of all seven. Only then will their daemon see them as a potential future master rather than a soul to be claimed. Only then can the warlock open the way to mastery of the dark arts.
"Which brings us to you," Darvill said to the two succubi in front of him. "You are succubi, representatives of the Circle of Lust. Not only are you here to confirm we understand the true nature of the bond between us and our daemon, Magus Stine has also engaged you to test we are able to resist the temptations of the flesh."
Darvill hadn't finished. He slotted together the final piece.
"From your costume and your pink plumes I can deduce you are Bedmistresses from the Palace of Infernal and Iniquitous Pleasures, a powerful order devoted to the mastery of the arts of seduction, manipulation and sensual ecstasy. If you were to draw upon your full repertoire of succubus charm abilities I doubt any student would be able to resist them.
"However, you won't and the reason you won't use the full range of your considerable talents is because the test must be fair. If the student succumbs, it must because of their own flaws rather than the overwhelming temptation of a daemon far beyond their level."
Darvill turned his gaze to the succubus standing at the shoulder of the lead succubus.
"I imagine being restricted to using only a small fraction of your considerable seductive appeal must be incredibly vexing. You have my sympathies," he said.
"I can show you more," the succubus replied. "A lot more."
"Maybe later," Darvill smiled. "After we've established some proper ground rules."
And a cast-iron safeword, he thought to himself.
He turned his attention back to the others.
"So, as much as I'd like to see the three of you put on a sexy show for me, we all know it would be a waste of your time and mine."
He gave them all a rakish smile. Now that was how you ace a test.
"Very impressive," the sitting succubus said. "Even seventh year students don't always attain this level of understanding. Some warlocks never learn it."
"This one is cocky," the succubus standing at her shoulder said.
"I prefer to think of it as being confident in my own abilities," Darvill said.
"This one could go far," the first succubus said. "Maybe very far indeed."
"I hope so," Darvill said, "Although I'm aware there's still much for me to learn and walking the path will require plenty of discipline and hard work."
He affectionately ruffled the eyestalks of Calli-Scitu-Oc perched on his shoulder.
"You are partially correct on what this test is about," the first succubus said. "It reflects poorly on my master if few of his students survive to become full-fledged warlocks, and there have been an unacceptable number of losses in the last few weeks. However..."
Her black eyes glittered malevolently in the midst of her otherwise heart-achingly beautiful face.
Before Darvill could react, the succubus on his left leaned forward and snatched Calli-Scitu-Oc off his shoulder.
"...this is not the only purpose of the test."
to be continued...
This is a continuation of my long-running Succubus Summoning series. The first arc, Succubus Summoning 101, can be found at your nearest online ebookstore. Previous chapters in the Succubus Summoning 201 arc can be found here.
Part 1, Part 2
Succubus Summoning 212, part 3
As the succubus sitting down in front of Darvill asked the question, the other one standing at her shoulder ran her tongue around her luscious red lips. Her glittering black eyes were fixed on Darvill as she inserted a finger in her mouth and sucked. The finger, moist with her saliva, went down to the shadows between her legs.
"You don't need to do that," Darvill said. "I know what's going on here."
The lead succubus arched a pencil-thin eyebrow. "Really? And what do you think you know?"
Darvill glanced at the standing succubus. "I know she's trying to tempt me. I also know she's not using the full extent of her succubus abilities. And I also know why."
The two succubi shared a glance. "Do tell," the lead succubus said.
"There are seven circles of hell, each corresponding to a frailty of human nature, otherwise known as a sin. When a warlock successfully contracts with their first daemon they align themselves with the circle the daemon comes from. Beginning warlocks mistakenly believe this circle represents their strengths. It doesn't. It represents their weakness."
"Go on," the succubus sitting opposite said, her face a perfect unreadable mask.
"The first daemon does not come to us out of desire to serve or be our familiar, it comes—drawn by the vulnerabilities it senses in our character—to take our soul. That is what daemons desire—souls. They serve us because it gives them opportunities to harvest souls from the earthly realm, a plane they cannot otherwise reach, but only if we prove ourselves to be sufficiently strong of mind and discipline. A weak warlock is of limited benefit to a daemon.
"The first challenge every would-be warlock faces is to prove themselves to their daemon. They must demonstrate they have the strength of will to overcome their baser desires. And it is not just the one circle, they must show they are able to resist the temptations of all seven. Only then will their daemon see them as a potential future master rather than a soul to be claimed. Only then can the warlock open the way to mastery of the dark arts.
"Which brings us to you," Darvill said to the two succubi in front of him. "You are succubi, representatives of the Circle of Lust. Not only are you here to confirm we understand the true nature of the bond between us and our daemon, Magus Stine has also engaged you to test we are able to resist the temptations of the flesh."
Darvill hadn't finished. He slotted together the final piece.
"From your costume and your pink plumes I can deduce you are Bedmistresses from the Palace of Infernal and Iniquitous Pleasures, a powerful order devoted to the mastery of the arts of seduction, manipulation and sensual ecstasy. If you were to draw upon your full repertoire of succubus charm abilities I doubt any student would be able to resist them.
"However, you won't and the reason you won't use the full range of your considerable talents is because the test must be fair. If the student succumbs, it must because of their own flaws rather than the overwhelming temptation of a daemon far beyond their level."
Darvill turned his gaze to the succubus standing at the shoulder of the lead succubus.
"I imagine being restricted to using only a small fraction of your considerable seductive appeal must be incredibly vexing. You have my sympathies," he said.
"I can show you more," the succubus replied. "A lot more."
"Maybe later," Darvill smiled. "After we've established some proper ground rules."
And a cast-iron safeword, he thought to himself.
He turned his attention back to the others.
"So, as much as I'd like to see the three of you put on a sexy show for me, we all know it would be a waste of your time and mine."
He gave them all a rakish smile. Now that was how you ace a test.
"Very impressive," the sitting succubus said. "Even seventh year students don't always attain this level of understanding. Some warlocks never learn it."
"This one is cocky," the succubus standing at her shoulder said.
"I prefer to think of it as being confident in my own abilities," Darvill said.
"This one could go far," the first succubus said. "Maybe very far indeed."
"I hope so," Darvill said, "Although I'm aware there's still much for me to learn and walking the path will require plenty of discipline and hard work."
He affectionately ruffled the eyestalks of Calli-Scitu-Oc perched on his shoulder.
"You are partially correct on what this test is about," the first succubus said. "It reflects poorly on my master if few of his students survive to become full-fledged warlocks, and there have been an unacceptable number of losses in the last few weeks. However..."
Her black eyes glittered malevolently in the midst of her otherwise heart-achingly beautiful face.
Before Darvill could react, the succubus on his left leaned forward and snatched Calli-Scitu-Oc off his shoulder.
"...this is not the only purpose of the test."
to be continued...
Tuesday, March 08, 2016
Succubus Summoning 212, part 2
Not quite Monday, but getting closer.
This is a continuation of my long-running Succubus Summoning series. The first arc, Succubus Summoning 101, can be found at your nearest online ebookstore. Previous chapters in the Succubus Summoning 201 arc can be found here.
Part 1
Succubus Summoning 212, part 2
"We're here to give you your test," one said.
The succubi did not look like your typical examiners. They looked more like high-class Vegas showgirls. Each wore a black velvet bodice that pushed up their breasts and displayed their cleavage to the maximum effect. These bodices were tightly laced together in a way that emphasised the gorgeous hourglass figures of their owners. Each succubus wore a black velvet skullcap that curled around their horns to form an elegant widow's peak, and was adorned with a long fluffy plume that was flamingo-pink in colour. If Darvill had not been a student warlock at Wargsnouts he might have thought their devilish horns, wings and tails were part of the same costume.
"Where is Magus Stine?" Darvill asked. "I thought he was giving this test."
Darvill was alone in the room with the three succubi. The only furniture was three plain wooden chairs.
"Our master does not wish to be bothered with such minor trifles," the first succubus said.
"He sent us to carry out the test on his behalf," the succubus to her right said.
The succubi standing before Darvill were a little underdressed compared to normal. In spite of their reputation, the succubi that accompanied The Scrote around the college were usually tastefully dressed in sumptuous black dresses that brought to mind exotic ladies of the night from period dramas. These succubi had done away with those dresses. They'd done away with everything below the waist as it happened. Aside from the fancy black stiletto-heeled boots on their feet, there was nothing covering their crotch and long, lithe legs. The hairless folds of their vulva were completely exposed, flaunted even.
The exception to this was the succubus who'd shown Darvill into the room, and this was only temporary. As soon as the door was closed behind them she peeled off the little black miniskirt she was wearing and draped it over the back of a chair.
"You don't mind?" she asked Darvill.
Her exposed nether regions were as pink and shiny as the other two succubi.
"Not at all," Darvill said. "I imagine clothes must feel inhibiting to beings of your nature."
"They are an irritation," the succubus in front of Darvill said, "but a necessary one when going out into the human world. Our unclothed forms can be quite distracting for the weaker willed."
She pursed moist red bee-stung lips and placed a foot on the seat of the chair facing Darvill.
"I hope we're not affecting your concentration," she said.
Darvill simply smiled. "A warlock should be above such distractions."
The succubus was satisfied by his answer. She sat down in the chair opposite and crossed her legs. Her attitude shifted from playful seduction to business. She motioned to the chair facing her. "Take a seat."
So, an oral examination, Darvill thought. He used to dislike them as they forced person-to-person interaction. Practise made them easier.
The succubus who'd shown him in took the remaining chair and sat facing him to his left. That left nowhere to sit for the third succubus. She stood at the right shoulder of the succubus sitting in front of him.
The succubus sitting in front of him—Darvill presumed she'd be the one giving the test—reached under the chair and picked up a clipboard.
"Let's get the preliminaries out of the way," she said. "You are Evan Darvill, correct?"
Darvill nodded his head.
"And you're Outreach?"
"Yes. I am the first potential warlock of my line."
"Tell us about your daemon."
"Their name is Calli-Scitu-Oc. They are a poly-Oc from the Circle of Greed. I summoned and successfully contracted with them on June 3rd."
"Poly-Ocs specialise in knowledge acquisition. Was it a conscious decision on your part to align yourself with the Dominion of Greed?"
"Yes?"
"Why?"
"At the time I thought it best suited my overall aims and ambitions."
"Which are?"
"Power, or more specifically—knowledge. Knowledge allows one to both obtain power and keep it."
"You're very ambitious," the succubus said. "We can smell it."
"It excites us," the succubus at her shoulder added.
"How far would you like to go? A position at this institution, the Shadow Council... further...?"
"Maybe," Darvill replied. "But that's a long way off. First I must traverse the path from student to master. Then we'll see. Positions of true power and influence are not given out, they must be worked for and earned."
"And that's it, you have no other desires?"
As the succubus sitting down in front of Darvill asked the question, the other one standing at her shoulder ran her tongue around her luscious red lips. Her glittering black eyes were fixed on Darvill as she inserted a finger in her mouth and sucked. The finger, moist with her saliva, went down to the shadows between her legs.
"You don't need to do that," Darvill said. "I know what's going on here."
to be continued...
This is a continuation of my long-running Succubus Summoning series. The first arc, Succubus Summoning 101, can be found at your nearest online ebookstore. Previous chapters in the Succubus Summoning 201 arc can be found here.
Part 1
Succubus Summoning 212, part 2
"We're here to give you your test," one said.
The succubi did not look like your typical examiners. They looked more like high-class Vegas showgirls. Each wore a black velvet bodice that pushed up their breasts and displayed their cleavage to the maximum effect. These bodices were tightly laced together in a way that emphasised the gorgeous hourglass figures of their owners. Each succubus wore a black velvet skullcap that curled around their horns to form an elegant widow's peak, and was adorned with a long fluffy plume that was flamingo-pink in colour. If Darvill had not been a student warlock at Wargsnouts he might have thought their devilish horns, wings and tails were part of the same costume.
"Where is Magus Stine?" Darvill asked. "I thought he was giving this test."
Darvill was alone in the room with the three succubi. The only furniture was three plain wooden chairs.
"Our master does not wish to be bothered with such minor trifles," the first succubus said.
"He sent us to carry out the test on his behalf," the succubus to her right said.
The succubi standing before Darvill were a little underdressed compared to normal. In spite of their reputation, the succubi that accompanied The Scrote around the college were usually tastefully dressed in sumptuous black dresses that brought to mind exotic ladies of the night from period dramas. These succubi had done away with those dresses. They'd done away with everything below the waist as it happened. Aside from the fancy black stiletto-heeled boots on their feet, there was nothing covering their crotch and long, lithe legs. The hairless folds of their vulva were completely exposed, flaunted even.
The exception to this was the succubus who'd shown Darvill into the room, and this was only temporary. As soon as the door was closed behind them she peeled off the little black miniskirt she was wearing and draped it over the back of a chair.
"You don't mind?" she asked Darvill.
Her exposed nether regions were as pink and shiny as the other two succubi.
"Not at all," Darvill said. "I imagine clothes must feel inhibiting to beings of your nature."
"They are an irritation," the succubus in front of Darvill said, "but a necessary one when going out into the human world. Our unclothed forms can be quite distracting for the weaker willed."
She pursed moist red bee-stung lips and placed a foot on the seat of the chair facing Darvill.
"I hope we're not affecting your concentration," she said.
Darvill simply smiled. "A warlock should be above such distractions."
The succubus was satisfied by his answer. She sat down in the chair opposite and crossed her legs. Her attitude shifted from playful seduction to business. She motioned to the chair facing her. "Take a seat."
So, an oral examination, Darvill thought. He used to dislike them as they forced person-to-person interaction. Practise made them easier.
The succubus who'd shown him in took the remaining chair and sat facing him to his left. That left nowhere to sit for the third succubus. She stood at the right shoulder of the succubus sitting in front of him.
The succubus sitting in front of him—Darvill presumed she'd be the one giving the test—reached under the chair and picked up a clipboard.
"Let's get the preliminaries out of the way," she said. "You are Evan Darvill, correct?"
Darvill nodded his head.
"And you're Outreach?"
"Yes. I am the first potential warlock of my line."
"Tell us about your daemon."
"Their name is Calli-Scitu-Oc. They are a poly-Oc from the Circle of Greed. I summoned and successfully contracted with them on June 3rd."
"Poly-Ocs specialise in knowledge acquisition. Was it a conscious decision on your part to align yourself with the Dominion of Greed?"
"Yes?"
"Why?"
"At the time I thought it best suited my overall aims and ambitions."
"Which are?"
"Power, or more specifically—knowledge. Knowledge allows one to both obtain power and keep it."
"You're very ambitious," the succubus said. "We can smell it."
"It excites us," the succubus at her shoulder added.
"How far would you like to go? A position at this institution, the Shadow Council... further...?"
"Maybe," Darvill replied. "But that's a long way off. First I must traverse the path from student to master. Then we'll see. Positions of true power and influence are not given out, they must be worked for and earned."
"And that's it, you have no other desires?"
As the succubus sitting down in front of Darvill asked the question, the other one standing at her shoulder ran her tongue around her luscious red lips. Her glittering black eyes were fixed on Darvill as she inserted a finger in her mouth and sucked. The finger, moist with her saliva, went down to the shadows between her legs.
"You don't need to do that," Darvill said. "I know what's going on here."
to be continued...
Wednesday, March 02, 2016
Succubus Summoning 212, part 1
Yes, that title is correct. I finally got Phil's adventures moving again. Really sorry to all the people that have been waiting so long for this. There were reasons, but I'm not going to go into them as they're not particularly interesting. The plan is to update every Monday with a thousand words or so until the 201 arc is done. This may shift around a bit (as you may have noticed on account of this being Wednesday and not Monday) depending on where I am with the story, but I'm hoping serialising the final chapters like this will get me over the finish line.
On the off chance you don't know what I mean by either Phil or Succubus Summoning, it's a serial about a hapless student warlock who gets into various life-threatening messes after summoning some sexy succubi. The first volume of his sexy misadventures can be found in this lovely ebook, or you can read them in their slightly rougher form here on Literotica. A couple of years ago I hit a brick wall and the story stalled. Now I think it's time to finish the Succubus Summoning 201 arc off so I can put out a lovely ebook sequel and hopefully make enough money to write even more sexy succubus stories for you all.
Without further ado, here's the first 1K words of Succubus Summoning 212:
Succubus Summoning 212, part 1
Darvill had never been afraid of exams. In fact, during his schooldays, before he'd learned of this parallel world of magic and daemons, he'd even grown to relish them. Exams cut through all the bullshit. Exams were remorseless pieces of paper. Exams didn't care about who you were, who your daddy was, or who your friends were. They didn't give a shit about your station. They didn't give a fuck about what your little clique said and thought.
Darvill liked exams because he had control over the outcome. Ultimately that was what it was about—control. He couldn't control who his parents were. He couldn't control where he came from. But exams, he could control them. Knowledge, preparation, hard work—those were things he could control and exams respected them. Exams showed, unequivocally, where everyone stood in relation to everyone else. They took a group of people and churned them out as a ranked list.
And Darvill always made sure his name was at the top of that list.
Wargsnouts College was no different. Sure, the stakes were higher. No-one got their limbs ripped off and devoured for getting a math question wrong in the mundane world, but the principles were still the same—knowledge, preparation, hard work.
So when Darvill had found out about The Scrote's little surprise test he hadn't been fazed in the slightest. Truth be told, he relished it. The last few days had not gone well.
No, that was a massive understatement. The last few days had been fucking disastrous. So much for those plans of building a cabal to shake up the old order. He'd been arrogant and naïve, in a world that laughed at arrogance and destroyed the naïve.
At least it wasn't all for naught. He'd learn from this, had learned much already. He ruffled Calli-Scitu-Oc's eyestalks as the poly-Oc sat on his shoulder.
But the cost...
He grimaced at the thought. Dever, the others, gone. His friends—dead or worse.
No, he mustn't dwell on that. Control the things he could control. Knowledge, preparation, hard work.
Not everyone shared Darvill's phlegmatic attitude when it came to exams. Outside the test room he saw Rowling sitting at one of the tables with an untidy sprawl of notes and papers spread out in front of him. One of his succubi—Verdé, the one with the green hair—was sitting next to him and watching with a look of amusement on her face while he frantically shuffled through his notes.
One of Rowling's succubi...
Everyone thought Rowling had somehow managed to contract a pair of succubi. Darvill knew differently. He'd counted five in the castle in hell. They weren't your regular succubi either. Darvill had done a little research on his return to the college. He wondered if Rowling knew what he'd contracted. He wondered if anyone knew.
Verdé glanced up at Darvill with bright green eyes. She was stunningly beautiful, but so were plenty of other women. And once you had plenty of power behind you, you could screw all the beautiful women you could possibly want... and not worry about them sucking your soul out in the process.
"Last minute revision?" Darvill asked.
Rowling noticed Darvill and seemed both surprised and a little awkward when the other student sat down opposite him. Rowling was the sort that would feel guilty over what had happened, Darvill thought, not that he should.
If Darvill was a lesser person he supposed he could have held Rowling responsible for the deaths of the others, maybe even let a grudge fester while he secretly plotted revenge. Not that Darvill had the slightest intention of doing this. Wargsnouts was dangerous enough as it was without getting himself bogged down in senseless, petty feuds on top. They all knew what had happened to Emma Brennan.
"I wish I knew what this test was about," Rowling said. "I heard something about attunement, but that could cover anything we've studied in the last year and a half."
Darvill thought about Rowling. They had a lot in common. Rowling was outreach, like him. He'd come from a very ordinary background. He had talent. Darvill's original plan of a brand new cabal was in tatters and likely never to be mended, but the recent events had given him a fresh appreciation of just how dangerous this world was. Allies would be useful.
"We're on the fast track because we contracted our first daemons earlier than most other students. I imagine The Scrote wants to check we understand what those contracts mean."
Rowling looked sourly at his notes. "I was kinda hoping we'd be taught this before they tested us on it."
"Daemonic contracts are the test," Darvill said. "Look at the ones that came through."
He motioned over to a passing group of staff. As would be expected for a college like Wargsnouts, the staff were an eclectic bunch. High Magus R. L. Conley, the Magister of the Esoteric Conduit stood out the most with a flamboyant costume of black robes with silver trim and elaborate puffs at the wrists. No-one dressed quite like the high magus. Rumour was he'd been consulted by a horror filmmaker for input on the costume of their satanic high priest villain, and they'd ended up rejecting his ideas for being too extravagant. A masked nihmiratt rode on his shoulders like a small child. Its green eyes shone behind its mask of human skin.
At the opposite end of the spectrum was the Cartifax of Hell-Dimensional Topology, Brion Jacks. The trim, bald-headed man was dressed in a white vest and jogging bottoms. He looked like he'd just stepped out of the gym rather than a lecture on the geography of hell. A pyramid of flesh with a mouth in the centre—a minor nebrit—sat on his shoulder and gnashed its teeth together.
Walking with them was the treasury officer, Graeme Kennet. Kennet would have looked like a paunchy, middle-aged banker if it wasn't for the kappa-Oc perched on his head like a hat. It made the official look like an elderly punk rocker with long purple eyestalks for hair.
In such august company it would have been easy to overlook the fourth member entirely. Dr Will Pryce, the Zoomancer of the Cryptic Savagerium, was small, soft-spoken and innocuous. A ferocious-looking snikkersnakt prowled around his ankles.
Darvill could see Rowling didn't get it. For someone supposedly that smart, Rowling could be incredibly dim sometimes. Darvill was about to give him a helpful nudge when Calli-Scitu-Oc gave him a warning pinch on the shoulder.
Yes, yes, rules and all that, Darvill thought. Each must walk their own path.
Conscious he was not understanding something, Rowling went back to poring over his notes.
Darvill turned and spoke to Verdé directly. "Do you think he has anything to worry about?" he asked.
Verdé contemplated his question. "It's not his strongest area."
Her answer sent Rowling into another frenzy of note shuffling.
The door to the test room opened and one of The Scrote's succubi called out Darvill's name.
"Looks like it's my turn," Darvill said. "See you later."
Darvill left Rowling to his frantic—and unnecessary—last-minute revision and walked over and followed the succubus into the test room. He was expecting to see The Scrote, or maybe even Dodgy Lutwidge if The Scrote couldn't be assed to give the test himself. Neither was waiting for him in the room. Instead it was two more of The Scrote's succubi.
"We're here to give you your test," one said.
On the off chance you don't know what I mean by either Phil or Succubus Summoning, it's a serial about a hapless student warlock who gets into various life-threatening messes after summoning some sexy succubi. The first volume of his sexy misadventures can be found in this lovely ebook, or you can read them in their slightly rougher form here on Literotica. A couple of years ago I hit a brick wall and the story stalled. Now I think it's time to finish the Succubus Summoning 201 arc off so I can put out a lovely ebook sequel and hopefully make enough money to write even more sexy succubus stories for you all.
Without further ado, here's the first 1K words of Succubus Summoning 212:
Succubus Summoning 212, part 1
Darvill had never been afraid of exams. In fact, during his schooldays, before he'd learned of this parallel world of magic and daemons, he'd even grown to relish them. Exams cut through all the bullshit. Exams were remorseless pieces of paper. Exams didn't care about who you were, who your daddy was, or who your friends were. They didn't give a shit about your station. They didn't give a fuck about what your little clique said and thought.
Darvill liked exams because he had control over the outcome. Ultimately that was what it was about—control. He couldn't control who his parents were. He couldn't control where he came from. But exams, he could control them. Knowledge, preparation, hard work—those were things he could control and exams respected them. Exams showed, unequivocally, where everyone stood in relation to everyone else. They took a group of people and churned them out as a ranked list.
And Darvill always made sure his name was at the top of that list.
Wargsnouts College was no different. Sure, the stakes were higher. No-one got their limbs ripped off and devoured for getting a math question wrong in the mundane world, but the principles were still the same—knowledge, preparation, hard work.
So when Darvill had found out about The Scrote's little surprise test he hadn't been fazed in the slightest. Truth be told, he relished it. The last few days had not gone well.
No, that was a massive understatement. The last few days had been fucking disastrous. So much for those plans of building a cabal to shake up the old order. He'd been arrogant and naïve, in a world that laughed at arrogance and destroyed the naïve.
At least it wasn't all for naught. He'd learn from this, had learned much already. He ruffled Calli-Scitu-Oc's eyestalks as the poly-Oc sat on his shoulder.
But the cost...
He grimaced at the thought. Dever, the others, gone. His friends—dead or worse.
No, he mustn't dwell on that. Control the things he could control. Knowledge, preparation, hard work.
Not everyone shared Darvill's phlegmatic attitude when it came to exams. Outside the test room he saw Rowling sitting at one of the tables with an untidy sprawl of notes and papers spread out in front of him. One of his succubi—Verdé, the one with the green hair—was sitting next to him and watching with a look of amusement on her face while he frantically shuffled through his notes.
One of Rowling's succubi...
Everyone thought Rowling had somehow managed to contract a pair of succubi. Darvill knew differently. He'd counted five in the castle in hell. They weren't your regular succubi either. Darvill had done a little research on his return to the college. He wondered if Rowling knew what he'd contracted. He wondered if anyone knew.
Verdé glanced up at Darvill with bright green eyes. She was stunningly beautiful, but so were plenty of other women. And once you had plenty of power behind you, you could screw all the beautiful women you could possibly want... and not worry about them sucking your soul out in the process.
"Last minute revision?" Darvill asked.
Rowling noticed Darvill and seemed both surprised and a little awkward when the other student sat down opposite him. Rowling was the sort that would feel guilty over what had happened, Darvill thought, not that he should.
If Darvill was a lesser person he supposed he could have held Rowling responsible for the deaths of the others, maybe even let a grudge fester while he secretly plotted revenge. Not that Darvill had the slightest intention of doing this. Wargsnouts was dangerous enough as it was without getting himself bogged down in senseless, petty feuds on top. They all knew what had happened to Emma Brennan.
"I wish I knew what this test was about," Rowling said. "I heard something about attunement, but that could cover anything we've studied in the last year and a half."
Darvill thought about Rowling. They had a lot in common. Rowling was outreach, like him. He'd come from a very ordinary background. He had talent. Darvill's original plan of a brand new cabal was in tatters and likely never to be mended, but the recent events had given him a fresh appreciation of just how dangerous this world was. Allies would be useful.
"We're on the fast track because we contracted our first daemons earlier than most other students. I imagine The Scrote wants to check we understand what those contracts mean."
Rowling looked sourly at his notes. "I was kinda hoping we'd be taught this before they tested us on it."
"Daemonic contracts are the test," Darvill said. "Look at the ones that came through."
He motioned over to a passing group of staff. As would be expected for a college like Wargsnouts, the staff were an eclectic bunch. High Magus R. L. Conley, the Magister of the Esoteric Conduit stood out the most with a flamboyant costume of black robes with silver trim and elaborate puffs at the wrists. No-one dressed quite like the high magus. Rumour was he'd been consulted by a horror filmmaker for input on the costume of their satanic high priest villain, and they'd ended up rejecting his ideas for being too extravagant. A masked nihmiratt rode on his shoulders like a small child. Its green eyes shone behind its mask of human skin.
At the opposite end of the spectrum was the Cartifax of Hell-Dimensional Topology, Brion Jacks. The trim, bald-headed man was dressed in a white vest and jogging bottoms. He looked like he'd just stepped out of the gym rather than a lecture on the geography of hell. A pyramid of flesh with a mouth in the centre—a minor nebrit—sat on his shoulder and gnashed its teeth together.
Walking with them was the treasury officer, Graeme Kennet. Kennet would have looked like a paunchy, middle-aged banker if it wasn't for the kappa-Oc perched on his head like a hat. It made the official look like an elderly punk rocker with long purple eyestalks for hair.
In such august company it would have been easy to overlook the fourth member entirely. Dr Will Pryce, the Zoomancer of the Cryptic Savagerium, was small, soft-spoken and innocuous. A ferocious-looking snikkersnakt prowled around his ankles.
Darvill could see Rowling didn't get it. For someone supposedly that smart, Rowling could be incredibly dim sometimes. Darvill was about to give him a helpful nudge when Calli-Scitu-Oc gave him a warning pinch on the shoulder.
Yes, yes, rules and all that, Darvill thought. Each must walk their own path.
Conscious he was not understanding something, Rowling went back to poring over his notes.
Darvill turned and spoke to Verdé directly. "Do you think he has anything to worry about?" he asked.
Verdé contemplated his question. "It's not his strongest area."
Her answer sent Rowling into another frenzy of note shuffling.
The door to the test room opened and one of The Scrote's succubi called out Darvill's name.
"Looks like it's my turn," Darvill said. "See you later."
Darvill left Rowling to his frantic—and unnecessary—last-minute revision and walked over and followed the succubus into the test room. He was expecting to see The Scrote, or maybe even Dodgy Lutwidge if The Scrote couldn't be assed to give the test himself. Neither was waiting for him in the room. Instead it was two more of The Scrote's succubi.
"We're here to give you your test," one said.
Monday, January 18, 2016
A Chance Glance and a Chance Conversation in a Student Bar, part 10
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9
Nÿte crouched next to him and frowned. "Maybe fucking you was not such a good idea. It's piqued my appetite and those little squirts were nowhere near enough to sate my hunger. Hmm, are there any students around here you don't particularly like? No... no... that's a horribly unfair thing to ask of a decent human being."
She made some strange hand movements and said some words that slipped straight past his ears. Slender black cords whipped out of the walls and coiled around Devin's arms and legs. Then there was a discombobulating blur of movement and up was down and down was up.
Given a moment to get his bearings back, Devin realised he'd been trussed up like a hog and suspended from the ceiling. Nÿte was on her knees beneath him. She placed a hand around his dangling cock.
"You see, it's not because you have no more juice. Our problem here is that the little trollop has pumped you so full of aphrodisiac pheromones I have to be very careful in how I get you off. Get it wrong and I'll tip you over into an unstoppable final climax that will cause all your vital fluids to fountain out through your prick, your heart to burst, and your soul to be rent asunder. And we wouldn't want that," Nÿte said as she pumped Devin's cock and it sprang back to full hardness like an iron bar.
While her one hand stroked up and down his shaft, she gripped his balls with her other. She teased them out from his body and did some weird stretching massage thing to them that started off feeling odd, but then went on to feel really nice.
"I can't risk touching you with my softer parts—my lips, tits or pussy—but I'm sure you'll find my hands to be sufficient."
They were more than sufficient. Devin's eyes closed as she started to do complicated things with her fingers that gave him little oohs of pleasure. What was she doing? He couldn't see. It felt like she'd stretched out his penis and her fingers were tapping, twisting, kneading... stimulating nerve endings all over the head and shaft. Was this some kind of tantric thing? It felt a lot more intense than a normal wank.
Nÿte dabbed a tongue against his urethral opening and lapped up some of his pre-cum.
"Still a little dry," she said.
Then, before Devin realised it was happening, she poked a finger up his bum.
Nÿte saw his shocked look and rolled her eyes.
"I don't know why men are so fearful of being touched here. There are a lot of sensitive nerve endings. If stimulated correctly it can be most pleasant."
She did just that, and Devin whooshed out a surprised ooh.
Her finger roamed deeper, seeking out Devin's prostate.
"And it enables me to get to this lovely little gland," Nÿte said. "It makes orgasms big, wet and deliciously juicy."
She pumped her hand up and down Devin's cock. Her finger stroked against the side of his prostate gland. A warm feeling spread through Devin's loins and broke with a flood of pleasure. He wasn't even sure if he was pissing or coming. The flow was long and slow like a good solid piss, but it brought with it the mind-blowing euphoria of a really good ejaculation.
Judging be her slurps, gulps and little murmurs of pleasure, Nÿte was catching the stream in her mouth. After the flow subsided, her white face appeared before Devin and he noticed a trickle of semen running from the corner of her mouth.
"Most delicious," she said.
Her black tongue poked out and lapped up the rogue dribble.
Devin's head was drooping. After rattling around his ribcage like a caffeine-dosed hummingbird, his heart was flat out on the floor and gasping. He felt like a bag of water that had sprung a leak and emptied out all its contents.
Nÿte slapped him back to full alertness.
"Don't you dare die on me," she said. "Carnivrillarofax would be very disappointed and I'd have to take it out on your soul for having such a pathetically frail body."
That got Devin's heart pumping again. He looked around and saw the black inflatable walls had retreated and his room was back to how it was before... almost. He was still trussed up and suspended helplessly from the ceiling.
"Your thanks were gratefully received," Nÿte said.
She sucked on one of her fingers as if it was a delicious lollipop. Devin realised that was the finger she'd stuck up his bum. Yep, succubi were pure filth.
She turned and walked to the door.
"Wait, you can't leave me like this," Devin said.
Nÿte gave him a mischievous smile. "You'll be okay. Someone will come along and help you down."
"But then they'll tell everyone. It's going to be—"
"Yes, yes, it will be very embarrassing. The whole hall, maybe even the whole university, will hear about the kinky new student who let themselves be tied up and hung from their ceiling. Most of them will make fun of you and you'll be the butt of their jokes for the whole year. But..." she paused for emphasis, "...there will be one among them that won't laugh. She'll be intrigued to hear about the student that shares similar kinks and interests to her, kinks she can't really talk about with anyone else. She will seek you out and, after you discover you have much in common, you'll have a wild time together at university, maybe longer."
Put like that, it didn't seem too bad, Devin thought.
However, virtually all the students he'd come across had seemed a staid, unadventurous bunch.
"What if there isn't anyone into this?"
It was too late. Nÿte had already left.
Nÿte crouched next to him and frowned. "Maybe fucking you was not such a good idea. It's piqued my appetite and those little squirts were nowhere near enough to sate my hunger. Hmm, are there any students around here you don't particularly like? No... no... that's a horribly unfair thing to ask of a decent human being."
She made some strange hand movements and said some words that slipped straight past his ears. Slender black cords whipped out of the walls and coiled around Devin's arms and legs. Then there was a discombobulating blur of movement and up was down and down was up.
Given a moment to get his bearings back, Devin realised he'd been trussed up like a hog and suspended from the ceiling. Nÿte was on her knees beneath him. She placed a hand around his dangling cock.
"You see, it's not because you have no more juice. Our problem here is that the little trollop has pumped you so full of aphrodisiac pheromones I have to be very careful in how I get you off. Get it wrong and I'll tip you over into an unstoppable final climax that will cause all your vital fluids to fountain out through your prick, your heart to burst, and your soul to be rent asunder. And we wouldn't want that," Nÿte said as she pumped Devin's cock and it sprang back to full hardness like an iron bar.
While her one hand stroked up and down his shaft, she gripped his balls with her other. She teased them out from his body and did some weird stretching massage thing to them that started off feeling odd, but then went on to feel really nice.
"I can't risk touching you with my softer parts—my lips, tits or pussy—but I'm sure you'll find my hands to be sufficient."
They were more than sufficient. Devin's eyes closed as she started to do complicated things with her fingers that gave him little oohs of pleasure. What was she doing? He couldn't see. It felt like she'd stretched out his penis and her fingers were tapping, twisting, kneading... stimulating nerve endings all over the head and shaft. Was this some kind of tantric thing? It felt a lot more intense than a normal wank.
Nÿte dabbed a tongue against his urethral opening and lapped up some of his pre-cum.
"Still a little dry," she said.
Then, before Devin realised it was happening, she poked a finger up his bum.
Nÿte saw his shocked look and rolled her eyes.
"I don't know why men are so fearful of being touched here. There are a lot of sensitive nerve endings. If stimulated correctly it can be most pleasant."
She did just that, and Devin whooshed out a surprised ooh.
Her finger roamed deeper, seeking out Devin's prostate.
"And it enables me to get to this lovely little gland," Nÿte said. "It makes orgasms big, wet and deliciously juicy."
She pumped her hand up and down Devin's cock. Her finger stroked against the side of his prostate gland. A warm feeling spread through Devin's loins and broke with a flood of pleasure. He wasn't even sure if he was pissing or coming. The flow was long and slow like a good solid piss, but it brought with it the mind-blowing euphoria of a really good ejaculation.
Judging be her slurps, gulps and little murmurs of pleasure, Nÿte was catching the stream in her mouth. After the flow subsided, her white face appeared before Devin and he noticed a trickle of semen running from the corner of her mouth.
"Most delicious," she said.
Her black tongue poked out and lapped up the rogue dribble.
Devin's head was drooping. After rattling around his ribcage like a caffeine-dosed hummingbird, his heart was flat out on the floor and gasping. He felt like a bag of water that had sprung a leak and emptied out all its contents.
Nÿte slapped him back to full alertness.
"Don't you dare die on me," she said. "Carnivrillarofax would be very disappointed and I'd have to take it out on your soul for having such a pathetically frail body."
That got Devin's heart pumping again. He looked around and saw the black inflatable walls had retreated and his room was back to how it was before... almost. He was still trussed up and suspended helplessly from the ceiling.
"Your thanks were gratefully received," Nÿte said.
She sucked on one of her fingers as if it was a delicious lollipop. Devin realised that was the finger she'd stuck up his bum. Yep, succubi were pure filth.
She turned and walked to the door.
"Wait, you can't leave me like this," Devin said.
Nÿte gave him a mischievous smile. "You'll be okay. Someone will come along and help you down."
"But then they'll tell everyone. It's going to be—"
"Yes, yes, it will be very embarrassing. The whole hall, maybe even the whole university, will hear about the kinky new student who let themselves be tied up and hung from their ceiling. Most of them will make fun of you and you'll be the butt of their jokes for the whole year. But..." she paused for emphasis, "...there will be one among them that won't laugh. She'll be intrigued to hear about the student that shares similar kinks and interests to her, kinks she can't really talk about with anyone else. She will seek you out and, after you discover you have much in common, you'll have a wild time together at university, maybe longer."
Put like that, it didn't seem too bad, Devin thought.
However, virtually all the students he'd come across had seemed a staid, unadventurous bunch.
"What if there isn't anyone into this?"
It was too late. Nÿte had already left.
THE END
And that's all. I hope you enjoyed this impromptu little mini-serial. Next up Succubus Summoning 212 (Yes, seriously!)
Also, if you've enjoyed this mini-serial, please check out my books for other sexy, smutty, scary stories featuring succubi and other monster girls.
Also, if you've enjoyed this mini-serial, please check out my books for other sexy, smutty, scary stories featuring succubi and other monster girls.
Friday, January 15, 2016
Sandwiched by Scyllas is out!
The latest in the Sandwiched by series, "Sandwiched by Scyllas", is out!
You can buy it for the very cheap price of 0.99 from
Amazon.com
Smashwords.com
or likely any other eBook retailer of choice
Here's the blurb:
Sandwiched by is a sexy series of monster girl erotic horror shorts from the master of dark erotica, M. E. Hydra. The fourth in the series, “Sandwiched by Scyllas”, sees a man tangled in the lascivious tentacles of two tempting octopus girls.
Neville Salmon, an overweight man with a troubled past, is at Europe’s largest adult entertainment expo when he wanders into a backstage area and comes across two sexy women relaxing in a big bubbly hot tub. To his surprise, they ask him to join them in their Jacuzzi for some frothy fun. Unbeknownst to Neville, the two women, Cilla and Karen, are a pair of nonhuman scyllas possessing some extremely naughty tentacles. They intend giving Neville an unforgettable moment, but it’s one he might not survive...
Sandwiched by. One dude, two sexy babes. A perfect fantasy... or maybe not...
If you like what I do online with all the stories, mini-serials and monster girl game reviews/playthroughs, and was wondering how best to support me so I can continue to do what I do, here's your answer. Buy my books if you can. It's a great deal as you get to read even more sexy succubus/monster girl smut!
(and there are tentacles this time. Really naughty tentacles...)
You can buy it for the very cheap price of 0.99 from
Amazon.com
Smashwords.com
or likely any other eBook retailer of choice
Here's the blurb:
Sandwiched by is a sexy series of monster girl erotic horror shorts from the master of dark erotica, M. E. Hydra. The fourth in the series, “Sandwiched by Scyllas”, sees a man tangled in the lascivious tentacles of two tempting octopus girls.
Neville Salmon, an overweight man with a troubled past, is at Europe’s largest adult entertainment expo when he wanders into a backstage area and comes across two sexy women relaxing in a big bubbly hot tub. To his surprise, they ask him to join them in their Jacuzzi for some frothy fun. Unbeknownst to Neville, the two women, Cilla and Karen, are a pair of nonhuman scyllas possessing some extremely naughty tentacles. They intend giving Neville an unforgettable moment, but it’s one he might not survive...
Sandwiched by. One dude, two sexy babes. A perfect fantasy... or maybe not...
If you like what I do online with all the stories, mini-serials and monster girl game reviews/playthroughs, and was wondering how best to support me so I can continue to do what I do, here's your answer. Buy my books if you can. It's a great deal as you get to read even more sexy succubus/monster girl smut!
(and there are tentacles this time. Really naughty tentacles...)
Monday, January 11, 2016
A Chance Glance and a Chance Conversation in a Student Bar, part 9
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8
"Mmm, you know, I've just thought of something you can do." She closed the door and gave Devin a smile filled with predatory lust. "We can do."
Devin's heartrate kicked up in his chest. The demon wasn't leaving.
"How much did you spunk into that little trollop's cunt?" Nÿte asked.
She took a step towards the bed. A step nearer to Devin.
"Um," Devin said. "I don't know."
Nÿte gestured with her hands and said something so alien his ears failed to pick it up at all. Darkness expanded out of the walls, floor and ceiling.
What's this? Devin thought. The walls were closing in on him, literally. It looked like someone had fixed black rubber air mattresses to the walls and was pumping them up with air. They looked solid enough, but he watched one bulge outwards in between his shelves. Rather than displacing his books and miniatures and knocking them onto the floor, the encroaching wall flowed around and swallowed them up as though it was a film of oil. The same thing happened with the bed underneath Devin, although the intangibility only seemed to apply to the furniture. The rising floor felt solid enough beneath Devin and carried him up with it. It felt similar to lying on an inflatable rubber mattress, only the surface felt warmer, softer and smoother.
The walls, floors and ceiling stopped expanding when the room had shrunk to maybe a third of its original size. All of Devin's furniture had been absorbed. He lay on the floor of a rubber cube with dimpled black walls. Nÿte was crouched over in the far corner with her knees apart.
"Instant sex dungeon," Devin remarked.
"So you like the sound of that?" Nÿte asked.
"Um."
Devin decided he should be very careful about what he said next. While the look of dommes in sexy black leather or PVC was a massive turn-on for him, he was less enthused about the S part in BDSM. Getting beaten sounded painful no matter how sexy the woman doing the beating looked. And he really didn't want to think about the level of hurt a demon dominatrix could inflict.
"The sex part more than the dungeon part," he said.
"Oh good, so you do want me to fuck you," Nÿte said. She unzipped her crotch and her sex gaped hungrily. "How splendid."
And then she was on top of him, her luscious black lips smooching his neck, his face, his lips. She reached down and wrapped a hand around Devin's cock. Her touch felt like pure, delicious sin and blood raced down until Devin's manhood was rock-hard and throbbing.
How did they do it? Devin thought. How did they make you feel like they were the one thing you wanted more than anything else in the world, even after you knew the pleasures would likely kill you?
Then Nÿte steered him into her warm, wet sex and all other thoughts were blown away. It was less like sliding into a moist fleshy tunnel and more like plunging into a tub of warm soft putty... putty that was alive and in motion. Her sex squeezed up all around Devin's erection and formed lapping tongues to wriggle up and down his shaft. It bunched up around the base of his shaft in a muscular ring and sucked. And...
...well it started to get hazy at that point. Everything blurred into one overwhelming tide of sexual euphoria. Nÿte lay upon him, her big tits pressed against his chest, and sucked and kissed him up into some kind of sexual nirvana.
He thought he had nothing left. He thought Boo had drained all the cum out of his balls.
Nÿte found more.
Her sex packed tightly around him, tugged and pumped an orgasm right out of him. Not just one either. The first hadn't even subsided when her sex pulsed and Devin was shuddering in the throes of another climax.
It felt... unbelievable.
Black spots danced before Devin's eyes. His breath came out in short gasps, as though he'd just finished a sprint. His heart fluttered uncertainly against his ribcage.
Nÿte put a hand on his chest and frowned.
"Tsk, that little trollop took more out of you than I thought. As much as I enjoy this position, it doesn't give me the requisite margin of control required for these circumstances."
Proving her point, she shifted slightly on his lap and even this small movement was enough to trigger another eruption from Devin's overworked body. It no longer felt like he'd just finished a sprint, now he felt like he'd just run a mile.
"Mmm, yes. This is a clearly an unsuitable position," Nÿte said.
Her sex pulled back from Devin's cock and she got off him. Devin was pleased to note he had just enough dignity to not mewl like a toddler whose toys had been taken away as his erection left the soft, fleshy clasp of her vagina. Goddamn succubi. He wanted her even though he knew a couple more orgasms like the one's he'd just experienced would end him for good. Is this what it was like to be an addict?
Nÿte crouched next to him and frowned. "Maybe fucking you was not such a good idea. It's piqued my appetite and those little squirts were nowhere near enough to sate my hunger. Hmm, are there any students around here you don't particularly like?"
to be concluded... (for real this time)
"Mmm, you know, I've just thought of something you can do." She closed the door and gave Devin a smile filled with predatory lust. "We can do."
Devin's heartrate kicked up in his chest. The demon wasn't leaving.
"How much did you spunk into that little trollop's cunt?" Nÿte asked.
She took a step towards the bed. A step nearer to Devin.
"Um," Devin said. "I don't know."
Nÿte gestured with her hands and said something so alien his ears failed to pick it up at all. Darkness expanded out of the walls, floor and ceiling.
What's this? Devin thought. The walls were closing in on him, literally. It looked like someone had fixed black rubber air mattresses to the walls and was pumping them up with air. They looked solid enough, but he watched one bulge outwards in between his shelves. Rather than displacing his books and miniatures and knocking them onto the floor, the encroaching wall flowed around and swallowed them up as though it was a film of oil. The same thing happened with the bed underneath Devin, although the intangibility only seemed to apply to the furniture. The rising floor felt solid enough beneath Devin and carried him up with it. It felt similar to lying on an inflatable rubber mattress, only the surface felt warmer, softer and smoother.
The walls, floors and ceiling stopped expanding when the room had shrunk to maybe a third of its original size. All of Devin's furniture had been absorbed. He lay on the floor of a rubber cube with dimpled black walls. Nÿte was crouched over in the far corner with her knees apart.
"Instant sex dungeon," Devin remarked.
"So you like the sound of that?" Nÿte asked.
"Um."
Devin decided he should be very careful about what he said next. While the look of dommes in sexy black leather or PVC was a massive turn-on for him, he was less enthused about the S part in BDSM. Getting beaten sounded painful no matter how sexy the woman doing the beating looked. And he really didn't want to think about the level of hurt a demon dominatrix could inflict.
"The sex part more than the dungeon part," he said.
"Oh good, so you do want me to fuck you," Nÿte said. She unzipped her crotch and her sex gaped hungrily. "How splendid."
And then she was on top of him, her luscious black lips smooching his neck, his face, his lips. She reached down and wrapped a hand around Devin's cock. Her touch felt like pure, delicious sin and blood raced down until Devin's manhood was rock-hard and throbbing.
How did they do it? Devin thought. How did they make you feel like they were the one thing you wanted more than anything else in the world, even after you knew the pleasures would likely kill you?
Then Nÿte steered him into her warm, wet sex and all other thoughts were blown away. It was less like sliding into a moist fleshy tunnel and more like plunging into a tub of warm soft putty... putty that was alive and in motion. Her sex squeezed up all around Devin's erection and formed lapping tongues to wriggle up and down his shaft. It bunched up around the base of his shaft in a muscular ring and sucked. And...
...well it started to get hazy at that point. Everything blurred into one overwhelming tide of sexual euphoria. Nÿte lay upon him, her big tits pressed against his chest, and sucked and kissed him up into some kind of sexual nirvana.
He thought he had nothing left. He thought Boo had drained all the cum out of his balls.
Nÿte found more.
Her sex packed tightly around him, tugged and pumped an orgasm right out of him. Not just one either. The first hadn't even subsided when her sex pulsed and Devin was shuddering in the throes of another climax.
It felt... unbelievable.
Black spots danced before Devin's eyes. His breath came out in short gasps, as though he'd just finished a sprint. His heart fluttered uncertainly against his ribcage.
Nÿte put a hand on his chest and frowned.
"Tsk, that little trollop took more out of you than I thought. As much as I enjoy this position, it doesn't give me the requisite margin of control required for these circumstances."
Proving her point, she shifted slightly on his lap and even this small movement was enough to trigger another eruption from Devin's overworked body. It no longer felt like he'd just finished a sprint, now he felt like he'd just run a mile.
"Mmm, yes. This is a clearly an unsuitable position," Nÿte said.
Her sex pulled back from Devin's cock and she got off him. Devin was pleased to note he had just enough dignity to not mewl like a toddler whose toys had been taken away as his erection left the soft, fleshy clasp of her vagina. Goddamn succubi. He wanted her even though he knew a couple more orgasms like the one's he'd just experienced would end him for good. Is this what it was like to be an addict?
Nÿte crouched next to him and frowned. "Maybe fucking you was not such a good idea. It's piqued my appetite and those little squirts were nowhere near enough to sate my hunger. Hmm, are there any students around here you don't particularly like?"
to be concluded... (for real this time)
Monday, January 04, 2016
A Chance Glance and a Chance Conversation in a Student Bar, part 8
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7
“No, but I do.”
The voice came out of the corner of the room. Devin looked over and saw there was another devil woman in the room. She was casually sitting in his chair and watching them. If anything, she looked even more devilish—more intimidating—than Boo. Her skin was vampire-pale and she was clothed from head to foot in black leather. She wore stylish, kinky black boots with high stiletto heels. Her equally stylish black gloves extended back to her elbows. A gothic black leather corset was cinched tightly around her waist and emphasised her large bust. The top of her bosom was uncovered and her deep cleavage was displayed to devastating effect. The overall appearance was somewhere between up-market dominatrix and kinky torturess. Devin didn’t know how she’d entered the room. It was as if she’d coalesced out of the darkness.
“N-n-nÿte?” Boo seemed to know who she was and also seemed a little afraid of her.
So was Devin. The new demoness had black horns and eyes like empty black pits. She radiated a palpable aura of dread. Devin saw she had a wicked-looking whip coiled up in her hands. It did not look like a sex toy.
“What are you doing here?” Boo recovered her composure a little.
“Carnivrillarofax thought this might happen. He asked me to stop by and check in.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Boo said. “You’re too late. He’s already spilled his seed inside me. That makes him my claim. You know the rules.”
Her vagina contracted around Devin’s cock, holding him tight within her.
“Those aren’t really rules,” the other demon, Nÿte, said. “They’re more like guidelines... to prevent conflict between our kind.”
The demon dominatrix stroked the coiled-up whip in her hands.
“Now me, I don’t mind a little bit of conflict.”
Her black lips parted in a smile that revealed white teeth. The incisors were long and pointed. Fangs.
“How about you?”
Boo looked away. “No,” she said.
Her pussy relaxed its death grip on Devin’s cock. Boo got off him and stepped off the bed.
“I relinquish my claim. He’s yours.”
Meekly, she put her clothes back on and left the room.
That left Devin alone with the demon dominatrix. He wasn’t sure that was much better. Tangible dread rolled off her in waves. This was not an angel sent down from above to rescue Devin. She was from a place just as dark as Boo, maybe darker.
Nÿte looked him over, as if sizing him up as her next meal. “While I do enjoy watching you tremble in terror like a tiny mouse, it is quite unnecessary.”
That was a relief to Devin. The pale-faced demon didn’t look like the sort who was satisfied with mere killing. Devin had a feeling that had the circumstances been different she’d have quite happily torn his soul out and taken it back with her to hell to torture for all eternity.
Yes, he was very relieved to see her stand up and walk towards his door.
But she had saved his life (and possibly soul), he should at least acknowledge that.
“You saved me,” he said. “I don’t know what I can possibly do to thank you, but... thanks.”
“It’s nothing,” Nÿte said with a bright smile that was totally at odds with her terrifying aura. “A request from a friend I was more than happy to carry out.”
She put her hand on the door and was about to leave when she paused. She turned her head and looked at Devin.
“Mmm, you know, I’ve just thought of something you can do.” She closed the door and gave Devin a smile filled with predatory lust. “We can do.”
to be continued, or concluded (depending on how much fun Nÿte decides to have)...
A couple of months back I mentioned I had an idea for a third entrant for Literotica's Halloween contest, but that the ending didn't work for an erotica story. Well, "A Chance Glance and a Chance Conversation in a Student Bar" was that story and this was the ending as originally planned. For a horror or normal short story, I think it's a fine point to end the story. Nÿte has a perversely honourable streak, she's doing a favour for a friend, at this point it's implied she's going to fuck Devin's brains out until the sun comes up and then leave, and it can be left to reader's imagination exactly what kinky fun they get up to. For other types of story that's fine. For erotica, however, you can't show the sizzle and not serve up the steak. I think a lot of you out there would be quite disappointed if I showed you Nÿte but didn't give her any scenes. So, to avoid any disappointment, next week we'll have Nÿte getting her kink on.
(please don't break all his bones, tear him to pieces, or rip his soul out)
“No, but I do.”
The voice came out of the corner of the room. Devin looked over and saw there was another devil woman in the room. She was casually sitting in his chair and watching them. If anything, she looked even more devilish—more intimidating—than Boo. Her skin was vampire-pale and she was clothed from head to foot in black leather. She wore stylish, kinky black boots with high stiletto heels. Her equally stylish black gloves extended back to her elbows. A gothic black leather corset was cinched tightly around her waist and emphasised her large bust. The top of her bosom was uncovered and her deep cleavage was displayed to devastating effect. The overall appearance was somewhere between up-market dominatrix and kinky torturess. Devin didn’t know how she’d entered the room. It was as if she’d coalesced out of the darkness.
“N-n-nÿte?” Boo seemed to know who she was and also seemed a little afraid of her.
So was Devin. The new demoness had black horns and eyes like empty black pits. She radiated a palpable aura of dread. Devin saw she had a wicked-looking whip coiled up in her hands. It did not look like a sex toy.
“What are you doing here?” Boo recovered her composure a little.
“Carnivrillarofax thought this might happen. He asked me to stop by and check in.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Boo said. “You’re too late. He’s already spilled his seed inside me. That makes him my claim. You know the rules.”
Her vagina contracted around Devin’s cock, holding him tight within her.
“Those aren’t really rules,” the other demon, Nÿte, said. “They’re more like guidelines... to prevent conflict between our kind.”
The demon dominatrix stroked the coiled-up whip in her hands.
“Now me, I don’t mind a little bit of conflict.”
Her black lips parted in a smile that revealed white teeth. The incisors were long and pointed. Fangs.
“How about you?”
Boo looked away. “No,” she said.
Her pussy relaxed its death grip on Devin’s cock. Boo got off him and stepped off the bed.
“I relinquish my claim. He’s yours.”
Meekly, she put her clothes back on and left the room.
That left Devin alone with the demon dominatrix. He wasn’t sure that was much better. Tangible dread rolled off her in waves. This was not an angel sent down from above to rescue Devin. She was from a place just as dark as Boo, maybe darker.
Nÿte looked him over, as if sizing him up as her next meal. “While I do enjoy watching you tremble in terror like a tiny mouse, it is quite unnecessary.”
That was a relief to Devin. The pale-faced demon didn’t look like the sort who was satisfied with mere killing. Devin had a feeling that had the circumstances been different she’d have quite happily torn his soul out and taken it back with her to hell to torture for all eternity.
Yes, he was very relieved to see her stand up and walk towards his door.
But she had saved his life (and possibly soul), he should at least acknowledge that.
“You saved me,” he said. “I don’t know what I can possibly do to thank you, but... thanks.”
“It’s nothing,” Nÿte said with a bright smile that was totally at odds with her terrifying aura. “A request from a friend I was more than happy to carry out.”
She put her hand on the door and was about to leave when she paused. She turned her head and looked at Devin.
“Mmm, you know, I’ve just thought of something you can do.” She closed the door and gave Devin a smile filled with predatory lust. “We can do.”
to be continued, or concluded (depending on how much fun Nÿte decides to have)...
A couple of months back I mentioned I had an idea for a third entrant for Literotica's Halloween contest, but that the ending didn't work for an erotica story. Well, "A Chance Glance and a Chance Conversation in a Student Bar" was that story and this was the ending as originally planned. For a horror or normal short story, I think it's a fine point to end the story. Nÿte has a perversely honourable streak, she's doing a favour for a friend, at this point it's implied she's going to fuck Devin's brains out until the sun comes up and then leave, and it can be left to reader's imagination exactly what kinky fun they get up to. For other types of story that's fine. For erotica, however, you can't show the sizzle and not serve up the steak. I think a lot of you out there would be quite disappointed if I showed you Nÿte but didn't give her any scenes. So, to avoid any disappointment, next week we'll have Nÿte getting her kink on.
(please don't break all his bones, tear him to pieces, or rip his soul out)
Monday, December 28, 2015
A Chance Glance and a Chance Conversation in a Student Bar, part 7
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6
A devil was on top of him.
His dick was inside her.
Devin moved to throw her off. Boo chuckled and slammed her ass down. She had him pinned at the hips and elbows.
“Don’t you like this?” She wriggled her ass, rubbing the folds of her vagina around his cock.
“Get off!”
He struggled beneath her and tried to throw her off to no avail.
“Too late now,” Boo smiled. “Your prick is in my hungry wet cunt.”
Her vagina clenched tightly around him. He heard a disgusting wet slurping sound. The walls of her vagina undulated against him like a mouth sucking liquid up a straw. His thrashing grew weaker. Boo rode his bucking form with serene calm. Devin felt like his limbs were filling up with molten lead. It was harder and harder to move them. She was draining his strength, he realised, drawing it up out of him with her vagina.
“Mmm, better,” Boo murmured as Devin’s struggles ceased.
She resumed bouncing up and down on Devin’s shaft. The hot flesh of her sex rippled unnaturally around his cock. It didn’t matter how horrified he was by what she was, the expert ministrations of her vagina kept his cock full of blood and throbbing.
“You made my dear Caco look foolish,” Boo said. “That’s a bad mistake for a human to make.”
She came down all the way on Devin and the thick, fleshy walls of her vagina clenched and tugged. Her inner walls fluttered against him, threatening to drive him mad with the pleasure. Boo sat astride him with her arms folded beneath her big breasts and revelled in the superiority her body had over him.
“I think I’d have broken the glamour even if Cacodoughovorax hadn’t asked me to,” she said. “It’s so much more fun when they try to fight.”
She resumed riding him with lithe bounces. The stroking sensations of her wet pussy dragged him up maddening peaks of pleasure.
“Mmm, you can’t hold back much longer. I can feel it.”
Her ass came down and wriggled. Her pussy squeezed. This time he felt it in every fibre of his being. He bucked and writhed beneath her like a fish caught on a line.
“Let it go,” Boo breathed. “Fill my hungry wet cunt.”
Devin couldn’t hold out any longer, couldn’t resist the pulsing ministrations of her vagina. He screwed his eyes shut and gasped as his cock throbbed and released a thick rope of semen into her. At the other end of that rope was Devin. Boo grabbed it and began to reel him in with wet rhythmic squeezes of her sex.
She reached down to caress the side of Devin’s cheek.
“I’ll be slow and gentle,” she said. Her other hand grasped and squeezed one of her swollen tits. “I’ll make it last all night before I finally suck you dry.”
Devin felt a euphoric glow in the aftermath of climaxing, but he also felt like he was burning up with it. And he hadn’t finished climaxing. Boo’s pussy continued to squeeze and coax more semen from his throbbing cock. She really was sucking out all his fluids.
“I thought Carny said you weren’t to go after me,” Devin wheezed.
Boo pouted her lips and blew him a kiss. Her vagina similarly bunched up around his cock and sucked another big load of semen—life—out of his body.
“Carnivrillarofax told Cacodoughovorax not to go after you. He’s a daemon of Wrath. I’m a daemon of Lust. We belong to different dominions of hell. Carnivrillarofax has no hold on me.”
“No, but I do.”
The voice came out of the corner of the room. Devin looked over and saw there was another devil woman in the room. She was casually sitting in his chair and watching them.
Okay, so I lied last week. We're not done yet. To be continued...
A devil was on top of him.
His dick was inside her.
Devin moved to throw her off. Boo chuckled and slammed her ass down. She had him pinned at the hips and elbows.
“Don’t you like this?” She wriggled her ass, rubbing the folds of her vagina around his cock.
“Get off!”
He struggled beneath her and tried to throw her off to no avail.
“Too late now,” Boo smiled. “Your prick is in my hungry wet cunt.”
Her vagina clenched tightly around him. He heard a disgusting wet slurping sound. The walls of her vagina undulated against him like a mouth sucking liquid up a straw. His thrashing grew weaker. Boo rode his bucking form with serene calm. Devin felt like his limbs were filling up with molten lead. It was harder and harder to move them. She was draining his strength, he realised, drawing it up out of him with her vagina.
“Mmm, better,” Boo murmured as Devin’s struggles ceased.
She resumed bouncing up and down on Devin’s shaft. The hot flesh of her sex rippled unnaturally around his cock. It didn’t matter how horrified he was by what she was, the expert ministrations of her vagina kept his cock full of blood and throbbing.
“You made my dear Caco look foolish,” Boo said. “That’s a bad mistake for a human to make.”
She came down all the way on Devin and the thick, fleshy walls of her vagina clenched and tugged. Her inner walls fluttered against him, threatening to drive him mad with the pleasure. Boo sat astride him with her arms folded beneath her big breasts and revelled in the superiority her body had over him.
“I think I’d have broken the glamour even if Cacodoughovorax hadn’t asked me to,” she said. “It’s so much more fun when they try to fight.”
She resumed riding him with lithe bounces. The stroking sensations of her wet pussy dragged him up maddening peaks of pleasure.
“Mmm, you can’t hold back much longer. I can feel it.”
Her ass came down and wriggled. Her pussy squeezed. This time he felt it in every fibre of his being. He bucked and writhed beneath her like a fish caught on a line.
“Let it go,” Boo breathed. “Fill my hungry wet cunt.”
Devin couldn’t hold out any longer, couldn’t resist the pulsing ministrations of her vagina. He screwed his eyes shut and gasped as his cock throbbed and released a thick rope of semen into her. At the other end of that rope was Devin. Boo grabbed it and began to reel him in with wet rhythmic squeezes of her sex.
She reached down to caress the side of Devin’s cheek.
“I’ll be slow and gentle,” she said. Her other hand grasped and squeezed one of her swollen tits. “I’ll make it last all night before I finally suck you dry.”
Devin felt a euphoric glow in the aftermath of climaxing, but he also felt like he was burning up with it. And he hadn’t finished climaxing. Boo’s pussy continued to squeeze and coax more semen from his throbbing cock. She really was sucking out all his fluids.
“I thought Carny said you weren’t to go after me,” Devin wheezed.
Boo pouted her lips and blew him a kiss. Her vagina similarly bunched up around his cock and sucked another big load of semen—life—out of his body.
“Carnivrillarofax told Cacodoughovorax not to go after you. He’s a daemon of Wrath. I’m a daemon of Lust. We belong to different dominions of hell. Carnivrillarofax has no hold on me.”
“No, but I do.”
The voice came out of the corner of the room. Devin looked over and saw there was another devil woman in the room. She was casually sitting in his chair and watching them.
Okay, so I lied last week. We're not done yet. To be continued...
Monday, December 21, 2015
A Chance Glance and a Chance Conversation in a Student Bar, part 6
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
“Let’s fuck,” she said in breathy whisper.
That sounded like a brilliant idea to Devin. His thoughts were still fuddled by fog, only
now it felt like the steam given out by a hot bath, or the condensation left on
the window of a car as two lovers got it on inside.
The next few moments were a haze as both removed the rest
of their clothes. Devin was driven back
to his bed, Boo kissing him all the way.
Then he was lying naked on top of his bed with Boo lying naked on top of
him. She covered him like a warm duvet
as she rained hot kisses down on his neck and face. She was hot, really hot in the physical
sense. That heat was sinking down into
him. He was heating up... heating up
until it felt like steam was boiling off him.
“This is how succubi apologise,” Boo murmured. “We do it with our bodies.”
Boo’s sensual lips found his and worked against
them. Her tongue squeezed through and
entangled with his. It felt like she was
breathing fire into him.
His cock twitched and flexed against the warm body lying
on top of it. It wanted more. It wanted to be inside her rather than
pressed up against her.
Boo wanted it too.
“Time to put your delicious big cock in my hungry wet cunt,” she
breathed.
She sat up and straddled Devin. No longer pinned down, his cock sprang to
attention. Boo stared down at it. Her soft brown eyes were suddenly dark and
hungry. She wrapped warm hands around
Devin’s shaft and twisted up and down in silky-smooth strokes.
“Do you want to be eaten up by my hungry wet cunt?”
Did he?
He must do as his head was nodding up and down.
Boo rose up above him.
Heat cascaded down from her gaping vagina and tickled his sensitised
skin. Foggily he thought something
wasn’t quite right with her sex—the lips too thick and fleshy; the interior too
red; the whole thing too hungry. And
then those thick and fleshy lips were wrapping around the swollen head of his
cock and she was descending down on him.
His cock was completely enveloped in moist flesh and his worries
smothered with it. Hot flesh packed
around his cock, as soft—if not softer—than the boobs his face had been wedged
between earlier.
Boo gave out a low, satisfied moan as her sex engulfed
his full length. Devin moaned with
her. She was so tight and hot inside.
“Oh yes, now lie back and enjoy it while my hungry wet
cunt milks out all your cum.”
That seemed like a very good idea to Devin as well.
In the mirror at the back of the room he watched Boo’s
sweet ass rise up and down as she began fucking him in earnest. Her labia puffed wide with each downstroke as
she swallowed up Devin’s erection. She
was so tight inside, yet silky-smooth enough for his erection to slide back and
forth with just enough friction to stroke his arousal higher and higher.
Devin watched the perfect curves of her breasts sway and
bob with the motions of her body. He
reached up to clutch and squeeze them.
Boo squeezed him back as the cushioned walls of her sex contracted against
his cock.
Boo put her hands over his and pressed them into the soft
pillows of her tits. “Mmm, I could leave
you in this blissful trance while I drain all your life, but Cacodoughovorax
wanted you to be fully aware during your final moments.”
She took his hands away from her bobbing breasts and
pinned them to the mattress. Still with
her hips moving up and down on Devin, she folded her upper body over his. At first he thought she was going to kiss
him. Instead she lightly blew in his
face.
The fog cleared.
Devin looked up into the face of a demon. It was the same blonde girl he’d admired from
afar in the university bar, but some of her features had changed. Her eyes were red and shone as if
alight. Devil horns poked up through her
blonde hair. The bone structure of her
face had subtly altered—the angles had become sharper. Still beautiful, but clearly unearthly.
A devil was on top of him.
His dick was inside her.
Oh Boo, couldn't you have been one of the nice ones. Oh well, to be concluded...
Monday, December 14, 2015
A Chance Glance and a Chance Conversation in a Student Bar, part 5
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
Devin was disturbed from his morose ponderings by a knock at his door. He opened it and blanched as he recognised the blonde girl with the tight jumper who was not a blonde girl in a tight jumper standing in the doorway. There was no trace of the devil about her here. She looked up at Devin with big brown eyes.
“Don’t be afraid” she said. “Please hear me out.”
Devin knew he shouldn’t. As Carny had told him, he lacked the defences to survive in their world. He should shut the door now.
Devin didn’t. Instead his gaze lingered over her sensually plump pink lips. And lower, down to where her tight white jumper clung to and emphasised the considerable curves of her chest.
“I came here to apologise for earlier,” she said.
Devin knew he should really shut the door. Instead his gaze was drawn in by those moist pink lips until they filled his world.
“Cacodoughovorax can be so boorish. It’s not his fault. It’s a trait of wrath daemons in general. He saw your hair and jacket and came to the wrong conclusion.”
Devin watched her sensual lips move up and down. He wanted to feel their softness against his.
“I can see now you’re a more sensitive soul.”
Lulled by her soft words, Devin’s head dipped lower and closer.
“Can I come in?” she asked.
She pursed those exquisite lips and blew a small cloud of perfumed smoke in Devin’s face. Before he could react he’d already inhaled it. A pleasant fog rose in his head and wrapped up his thoughts in tentacles of silk gauze.
Devin was supposed to say, “No,” and close the door. Instead he said, “Yes,” and let the succubus into his bedroom.
The blonde in the tight jumper shut the door behind her and smiled coyly at him. Devin’s gaze was drawn to her chest—the way the fabric was stretched taut over her ample bosom.
“I’m Boobella,” she said. "Most people call me Boo."
“Devin,” Devin replied. Automatically. Everything felt smothered in a lush haze.
He kept looking at the curves of her chest. An itch had awaken inside him. He wanted to put his hand on those spherical swells and squeeze. He wanted to feel their softness and weight. It was an unnatural urge. Unnatural in how difficult it was to hold at bay.
Boo’s hands strayed down to the bottom of her jumper. She twirled the stretchy nylon around a finger.
“You’ve been looking at these all night,” she said. “Would you like to see them uncovered?”
Devin nodded. His mouth was dry. He felt the blood pounding past his ears.
Boo started to raise her jumper. She did it slow and teasing. Devin saw she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. First revealed was the flat expanse of her belly. Then the bottom of her jumper climbed higher, exposing the dainty pink dimple of her navel. Then higher still as it started to climb the round peaks of her boobs. She reached a point just below her nipples and paused.
“Boop,” she said, flipping up the bottom fold of her jumper to flash Devin a momentary glimpse of her nipples.
Devin’s pulse quickened. He felt a swelling hardness rise in his underwear.
Staring directly into Devin’s eyes, Boo slid her jumper up, up and up until she’d smoothly pulled it over her head. She discarded it and stood before Devin, her big bouncy breasts completely exposed to him.
Boo pushed out her chest and gave her boobs a little jiggle. “Would you like to touch?”
Devin’s hands jerked forwards. Fingers splayed like talons, he clutched the ripe pink flesh of her tits. Her silky-smooth skin dimpled underneath his fingers and he felt them sink into soft flesh. His eyes had marvelled at the perfection of her curves, now his fingers marvelled at their weight and feel.
Boo drew closer. Devin’s head dipped lower... lower...
And then he was diving down into the inviting pink valley of her cleavage. He buried his face between her soft tits. Her scent, fragrant and creamy, intoxicated him.
Part of him stood back and watched on as if he was a passenger in another person’s body. What was he doing? He was pawing her tits and slathering over her cleavage like a lecherous creep.
The message didn’t get through. Devin lifted his head high enough to take a breath and then dived straight back in. He twisted his head as he nuzzled her smooth, elastic skin. Boo placed her hands on either side of her boobs and then squeezed them around Devin’s head like soft fleshy pillows.
“Let’s fuck,” she said in breathy whisper.
Seems like a splendid ide... wait! To be continued...
Devin was disturbed from his morose ponderings by a knock at his door. He opened it and blanched as he recognised the blonde girl with the tight jumper who was not a blonde girl in a tight jumper standing in the doorway. There was no trace of the devil about her here. She looked up at Devin with big brown eyes.
“Don’t be afraid” she said. “Please hear me out.”
Devin knew he shouldn’t. As Carny had told him, he lacked the defences to survive in their world. He should shut the door now.
Devin didn’t. Instead his gaze lingered over her sensually plump pink lips. And lower, down to where her tight white jumper clung to and emphasised the considerable curves of her chest.
“I came here to apologise for earlier,” she said.
Devin knew he should really shut the door. Instead his gaze was drawn in by those moist pink lips until they filled his world.
“Cacodoughovorax can be so boorish. It’s not his fault. It’s a trait of wrath daemons in general. He saw your hair and jacket and came to the wrong conclusion.”
Devin watched her sensual lips move up and down. He wanted to feel their softness against his.
“I can see now you’re a more sensitive soul.”
Lulled by her soft words, Devin’s head dipped lower and closer.
“Can I come in?” she asked.
She pursed those exquisite lips and blew a small cloud of perfumed smoke in Devin’s face. Before he could react he’d already inhaled it. A pleasant fog rose in his head and wrapped up his thoughts in tentacles of silk gauze.
Devin was supposed to say, “No,” and close the door. Instead he said, “Yes,” and let the succubus into his bedroom.
The blonde in the tight jumper shut the door behind her and smiled coyly at him. Devin’s gaze was drawn to her chest—the way the fabric was stretched taut over her ample bosom.
“I’m Boobella,” she said. "Most people call me Boo."
“Devin,” Devin replied. Automatically. Everything felt smothered in a lush haze.
He kept looking at the curves of her chest. An itch had awaken inside him. He wanted to put his hand on those spherical swells and squeeze. He wanted to feel their softness and weight. It was an unnatural urge. Unnatural in how difficult it was to hold at bay.
Boo’s hands strayed down to the bottom of her jumper. She twirled the stretchy nylon around a finger.
“You’ve been looking at these all night,” she said. “Would you like to see them uncovered?”
Devin nodded. His mouth was dry. He felt the blood pounding past his ears.
Boo started to raise her jumper. She did it slow and teasing. Devin saw she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. First revealed was the flat expanse of her belly. Then the bottom of her jumper climbed higher, exposing the dainty pink dimple of her navel. Then higher still as it started to climb the round peaks of her boobs. She reached a point just below her nipples and paused.
“Boop,” she said, flipping up the bottom fold of her jumper to flash Devin a momentary glimpse of her nipples.
Devin’s pulse quickened. He felt a swelling hardness rise in his underwear.
Staring directly into Devin’s eyes, Boo slid her jumper up, up and up until she’d smoothly pulled it over her head. She discarded it and stood before Devin, her big bouncy breasts completely exposed to him.
Boo pushed out her chest and gave her boobs a little jiggle. “Would you like to touch?”
Devin’s hands jerked forwards. Fingers splayed like talons, he clutched the ripe pink flesh of her tits. Her silky-smooth skin dimpled underneath his fingers and he felt them sink into soft flesh. His eyes had marvelled at the perfection of her curves, now his fingers marvelled at their weight and feel.
Boo drew closer. Devin’s head dipped lower... lower...
And then he was diving down into the inviting pink valley of her cleavage. He buried his face between her soft tits. Her scent, fragrant and creamy, intoxicated him.
Part of him stood back and watched on as if he was a passenger in another person’s body. What was he doing? He was pawing her tits and slathering over her cleavage like a lecherous creep.
The message didn’t get through. Devin lifted his head high enough to take a breath and then dived straight back in. He twisted his head as he nuzzled her smooth, elastic skin. Boo placed her hands on either side of her boobs and then squeezed them around Devin’s head like soft fleshy pillows.
“Let’s fuck,” she said in breathy whisper.
Seems like a splendid ide... wait! To be continued...
Monday, December 07, 2015
A Chance Glance and a Chance Conversation in a Student Bar, part 4
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
“Put the long-haired fellow down, now there’s a good chap.”
Devin turned his head and saw the silhouette of a slender young man standing at the end of the alleyway.
“Who dares,” Piggy-eyes growled.
Devin recognised both the voice and the silhouette as belonging to the metal fan he’d spoken to earlier. The pressure on his chest relented enough for him to shout out a warning.
“Get out of here, Carny! They’re not human.”
Devin was not the only one to recognise the slender man in the Slayer T-shirt. Surprisingly, Piggy-eyes seemed to know who he was as well. “Oh,” he said.
The pressure on Devin’s chest lessoned and Piggy-eyes lowered him enough for his toes to come back into contact with the floor again.
“My apologies, I did not see it was you, Carnivrillarofax. What is your interest in this human?”
“I spoke to him earlier,” Carny... Carnivrillarofax said. “He seems a nice enough fellow.”
Carny didn’t seem bothered by Piggy-eyes monstrous appearance. He casually walked up to them.
“Is that it?” Piggy-eyes said. “Just some random human you happened to strike up a conversation with?”
“Do I need anything else?” Carny said.
“This is my claim,” Piggy-eyes said.
Devin’s teeth rattled as the demon slammed him back against the wall.
“Is that a challenge, Cacodoughovorax?” Carny asked. His face took on a feral cast.
Devin realised the reason Carny hadn’t been bothered by their monstrous appearance was because he was another monster, just like them. More than that. The demon that had Devin pinned to the wall was afraid of him.
“No.” Cacodoughovorax shook his head and lowered Devin back to the floor.
“I heard stories about your technique,” Carny said. “And after seeing it first-hand for myself I can’t say that I approve. There should always be an element of freedom of choice, and engaging the services of a succubus...”
He glanced over at the blonde girl with the tight top and red eyes.
“...to goad the potential claim into fighting tips the scales too far in your favour. It’s not very sporting.”
“He hit me,” Cacodoughovorax said. “You saw. He used violence.”
“I saw. He didn’t want to fight and you backed him so far into a corner he saw no other option than to use violence to prevent further violence. Even succubi attempt to seduce their victims first before claiming them.”
Cacodoughovorax glowered but said nothing.
“It’s not a failure to let some slip through your fingers. It’s sorta the point, actually. And this...” he gestured to the pouting succubus. “You should be better than this. There’s no need to resort to these silly tricks. Just go into the city centre on a Friday night and you’ll find any number of stupid humans willing to break their fists on your chin.”
Carny spoke to the demon like a teacher giving a lesson to a pupil. And like most surly pupils, Cacodoughovorax didn’t appear to take the lesson too well. He walked away, taking the blonde with him, but was clearly still angry at being cheated of his prize.
That left Devin alone with Carny. This was a good thing?
“Are you okay?” Carny asked.
He still looked like a skinny student in a Slayer T-shirt. A skinny student in a Slayer T-shirt that had just scared off two demons.
“Um. Maybe,” Devin said. “They weren’t human, were they?”
“Nope,” Carny replied.
“You’re not human either.”
“Nope.”
“This is fucked up,” Devin said.
“I wouldn’t think about it,” Carny said.
“That’s going to be hard,” Devin said. “Welcome to university. Oh, and by the way, scary demons are real and walk among us. How come no-one talks about this?”
“Because they’re smart enough to know not to go digging further. As should you. You don’t have the warlock spark. When those without talent try to enter this world it never ends well for them. If you’re lucky you’ll be thought to be insane and locked away.”
Carny conspicuously left off what would happen if Devin was unlucky.
“What if...” Devin struggled with the alien name, “...Cacodoughovorax comes back.”
He’d seen the demon’s face as he’d walked away. That motherfucker was seriously not happy with this.
“He won’t,” Carny said. “It would be seen as a challenge to me.”
Again Carny conspicuously omitted the consequences of making that challenge.
“Thanks for stepping in,” Devin said.
“Not a problem,” Carny said. “Thanks for the music recommendations. I always like checking out new bands.”
And with that, the blond student in the Slayer T-shirt, who was not a blond student in a Slayer T-shirt, popped his headphones back in and ambled off into the darkness.
Devin threw up in his sink once he got back to his single-bedroom halls of residence room. His neighbours would probably think he was a lightweight who couldn’t hold his beer. Devin didn’t give a fuck. The world was fucked.
Demons... things... monsters... walking among us.
He sat down in the darkness and tried to rationalise what he’d seen.
Maybe it was... no.
But what if... no.
He knew what he’d seen.
There was a world that overlapped with this one and Devin hoped he never had the misfortune of stepping in it again.
That hope went unanswered. Devin might have decided he was done with that world, but it didn’t mean that world was done with him. It didn’t even give him the night before it came back, knocking at his door.
Literally in this case. Devin was disturbed from his morose ponderings by a knock at his door. He opened it and blanched as he recognised the blonde girl with the tight jumper who was not a blonde girl in a tight jumper standing in the doorway. There was no trace of the devil about her here. She looked up at Devin with big brown eyes.
“Don’t be afraid” she said. “Please hear me out.”
To be continued... (where I suspect things will be getting a little NSFW)
“Put the long-haired fellow down, now there’s a good chap.”
Devin turned his head and saw the silhouette of a slender young man standing at the end of the alleyway.
“Who dares,” Piggy-eyes growled.
Devin recognised both the voice and the silhouette as belonging to the metal fan he’d spoken to earlier. The pressure on his chest relented enough for him to shout out a warning.
“Get out of here, Carny! They’re not human.”
Devin was not the only one to recognise the slender man in the Slayer T-shirt. Surprisingly, Piggy-eyes seemed to know who he was as well. “Oh,” he said.
The pressure on Devin’s chest lessoned and Piggy-eyes lowered him enough for his toes to come back into contact with the floor again.
“My apologies, I did not see it was you, Carnivrillarofax. What is your interest in this human?”
“I spoke to him earlier,” Carny... Carnivrillarofax said. “He seems a nice enough fellow.”
Carny didn’t seem bothered by Piggy-eyes monstrous appearance. He casually walked up to them.
“Is that it?” Piggy-eyes said. “Just some random human you happened to strike up a conversation with?”
“Do I need anything else?” Carny said.
“This is my claim,” Piggy-eyes said.
Devin’s teeth rattled as the demon slammed him back against the wall.
“Is that a challenge, Cacodoughovorax?” Carny asked. His face took on a feral cast.
Devin realised the reason Carny hadn’t been bothered by their monstrous appearance was because he was another monster, just like them. More than that. The demon that had Devin pinned to the wall was afraid of him.
“No.” Cacodoughovorax shook his head and lowered Devin back to the floor.
“I heard stories about your technique,” Carny said. “And after seeing it first-hand for myself I can’t say that I approve. There should always be an element of freedom of choice, and engaging the services of a succubus...”
He glanced over at the blonde girl with the tight top and red eyes.
“...to goad the potential claim into fighting tips the scales too far in your favour. It’s not very sporting.”
“He hit me,” Cacodoughovorax said. “You saw. He used violence.”
“I saw. He didn’t want to fight and you backed him so far into a corner he saw no other option than to use violence to prevent further violence. Even succubi attempt to seduce their victims first before claiming them.”
Cacodoughovorax glowered but said nothing.
“It’s not a failure to let some slip through your fingers. It’s sorta the point, actually. And this...” he gestured to the pouting succubus. “You should be better than this. There’s no need to resort to these silly tricks. Just go into the city centre on a Friday night and you’ll find any number of stupid humans willing to break their fists on your chin.”
Carny spoke to the demon like a teacher giving a lesson to a pupil. And like most surly pupils, Cacodoughovorax didn’t appear to take the lesson too well. He walked away, taking the blonde with him, but was clearly still angry at being cheated of his prize.
That left Devin alone with Carny. This was a good thing?
“Are you okay?” Carny asked.
He still looked like a skinny student in a Slayer T-shirt. A skinny student in a Slayer T-shirt that had just scared off two demons.
“Um. Maybe,” Devin said. “They weren’t human, were they?”
“Nope,” Carny replied.
“You’re not human either.”
“Nope.”
“This is fucked up,” Devin said.
“I wouldn’t think about it,” Carny said.
“That’s going to be hard,” Devin said. “Welcome to university. Oh, and by the way, scary demons are real and walk among us. How come no-one talks about this?”
“Because they’re smart enough to know not to go digging further. As should you. You don’t have the warlock spark. When those without talent try to enter this world it never ends well for them. If you’re lucky you’ll be thought to be insane and locked away.”
Carny conspicuously left off what would happen if Devin was unlucky.
“What if...” Devin struggled with the alien name, “...Cacodoughovorax comes back.”
He’d seen the demon’s face as he’d walked away. That motherfucker was seriously not happy with this.
“He won’t,” Carny said. “It would be seen as a challenge to me.”
Again Carny conspicuously omitted the consequences of making that challenge.
“Thanks for stepping in,” Devin said.
“Not a problem,” Carny said. “Thanks for the music recommendations. I always like checking out new bands.”
And with that, the blond student in the Slayer T-shirt, who was not a blond student in a Slayer T-shirt, popped his headphones back in and ambled off into the darkness.
Devin threw up in his sink once he got back to his single-bedroom halls of residence room. His neighbours would probably think he was a lightweight who couldn’t hold his beer. Devin didn’t give a fuck. The world was fucked.
Demons... things... monsters... walking among us.
He sat down in the darkness and tried to rationalise what he’d seen.
Maybe it was... no.
But what if... no.
He knew what he’d seen.
There was a world that overlapped with this one and Devin hoped he never had the misfortune of stepping in it again.
That hope went unanswered. Devin might have decided he was done with that world, but it didn’t mean that world was done with him. It didn’t even give him the night before it came back, knocking at his door.
Literally in this case. Devin was disturbed from his morose ponderings by a knock at his door. He opened it and blanched as he recognised the blonde girl with the tight jumper who was not a blonde girl in a tight jumper standing in the doorway. There was no trace of the devil about her here. She looked up at Devin with big brown eyes.
“Don’t be afraid” she said. “Please hear me out.”
To be continued... (where I suspect things will be getting a little NSFW)
Friday, December 04, 2015
New Story: "A Trial in Vennington"
Should I do a foreword for this one? I suppose I must.
This is the #GamerGate story, the story I originally wanted to enter into Literotica's Halloween contest, but didn't get finished in time. This turned out to be a good thing as the original had some characters and aspects that weren't working.
I intended the story as a parody (with sex!) of another story I read on the internet that began with the same premise, but took a different path with vastly different characters. How I've treated the #GamerGate controversy might ruffle a few feathers, but these are feathers that needed to be ruffled as far as I'm concerned. While the scenario and characters are intentionally far-fetched (the presence of an extra-dimensional sex demon should be a giveaway!), I did want to sneak a few serious points in. I hope they don't detract from the other fun and sexy stuff too much.
Oh, and because it references #GamerGate and SJWs, there's a chance some of you might be new readers unfamiliar with my other work. If you're wondering why the story suddenly lurches into hardcore succubus smut, well that's what I write and what I'm known for. If gratuitous descriptions of sex make you feel uncomfortable, now would be a good time to click the back button on your internet browser. Same goes for anyone under 18, you really shouldn't be here right now! :)
Feel free to leave any criticism in the comments. Even call me rude names if you feel strongly enough. But be warned, I'm a bit of a masochist, so any nasty insults will likely turn me on... sexually. ;)
A Trial in Vennington
"Bring him out!"
Gary Garrett quaked beneath a black hood. His hands were bound together behind his back by some kind of plastic tie.
Who were they? Al Qaeda? ISIS? The IRA?
Was the IRA even a thing anymore?
What did they want with him? He was a nobody. He worked as a community manager for one of the smaller DoTA-type online games. The job didn't pay particularly well, but it allowed Gary to work in an area he loved.
He'd been walking home from the bus stop when a van had pulled up alongside him, masked men had jumped out, shoved a hood over his head and bundled him inside. He hadn't even got a glimpse of their faces. After a short drive Gary had been shoved out and left in a small room with a bare concrete floor for what seemed like hours.
Gary was pulled, roughly, to his feet and led outside. The hood was taken off his head and almost took his spectacles with it. They snagged on the rough fabric, but only slid a few centimetres up his forehead before dropping back into place on the bridge of his nose.
It was night time. A blood-red moon hung above them in a cloudless sky. He was standing in the yard of what appeared to be a disused farm. The surrounding buildings were ramshackle and moss-encrusted, as if the farm had been in a state of disuse for some time. The yard was lit up by a ring of burning torches.
Gary didn't know what to make of his captors. They definitely weren't ISIS. He counted seven of them—two women and five men, although it was harder to determine with the men as all five wore dark clothing and black bandanas over the lower half of their faces. They looked more like student activists than terrorists. The two women made no attempt to hide their faces. One looked an obvious radical student feminist—right down to her bright red hair and horn-rimmed spectacles. The other girl also had dyed hair—light blue in her case—but had chosen more eclectic attire. She wore a long white leather trench coat and looked like a mashup between gothic spy and urban warlock.
"Do you know why you're here?" the woman with red hair asked.
Gary shook his head. He looked around. Other than the blue-haired girl in the white trench coat his captors looked like the same sort of people he'd seen on YouTube videos of campus demonstrations, the sort of people that claimed to be liberal and yet pulled fire alarms and blocked entrances to prevent people they didn't like giving talks at universities. It couldn't be them, though. Those campus activists might be extremists, but surely they weren't extreme enough to yank people off streets in broad daylight.
"You, Gary Garrett, are to face trial for your crimes against feminism," Red informed him.
Whaaat? Gary gawped at her. He would have laughed out loud at the silliness of it had he not been so terrified he'd already wet himself.
"You are a member of GamerGate, that vile online misogynist hate movement devoted to driving women out of the games industry and off the internet."
Gary opened his mouth to speak.
Red pushed out a hand to interrupt. "Don't try to deny it," she said sharply. "Your Twitter handle is @TheMagnificentGGG and you post on Reddit as GaimerGaryGarrett. We have your posting history for the last six months. We know you were at the GamerGate meetup last night."
"I wasn't going to deny it," Gary said. "Yes, I'm pro-GG, but it's not what—"
Red held up a hand. "Stop!" she said.
She looked around at the other goons with a smug smile on her lips.
"Anyone want to finish for him?"
"Actually, it's about ethics in videogames journalism," one of the goons mocked in a silly voice. It was followed by snerks and sniggers from the others.
Yeah, he'd walked right into that one, Gary thought.
"I haven't harassed anyone," he said. "I only started posting in support of the tag because I was fed up with the gaming press constantly shitting on its audience."
"Aw diddums," Red said. "Did the straight white man with all the privilege in the world get his fee-fees hurt?"
"Um, you do realise this is kidnapping," Gary said. "I'm pretty sure that's still a fairly serious crime. You could all go to prison for this."
Red's face twisted in a snarl. "We do not recognise or acknowledge your patriarchal system of abuse and oppression."
Gary watched with a wide-eyed mix of both astonishment and horror.
They were mad. Not just extreme. Mad.
He'd had the misfortune of running into people like this on the internet before. Everyone called them Social Justice Warriors, or SJWs for short. It was a label meant to be ironic on both counts. They were only interested in social justice in as much as it gave them a convenient club to bash people with and an equally convenient shield to deflect criticism when others tried to call out their bullying and harassment. Thankfully—like the Keyboard Warrior meme they were descended from—their 'warrioring' was mostly confined to getting angry and shouting at people on social media. Until now...
Someone gave Gary a solid kick to the back of his legs. He buckled and fell down to his knees.
"GamerGate has gone on too long," Red said. "The authorities won't do anything about it, so we've been forced to take matters into our own hands. Your harassment and women hating must stop."
"But I don't hate women," Gary protested. "There are two girls on my regular League of Legends team. One of them even taught me how to get good."
Someone hit him on the back of his head. It was an open-handed slap rather than a full-blooded punch, but it still rattled his brain inside his skull.
"We do not use girl!" Red roared. "Girl is a diminutive used to deny full-grown women the respect they deserve."
"Um, she's like fifteen," Gary said. "And she hates anti-GG even more than I do."
He was struck again. This time it was a closed fist. It knocked his head to the side and left his glasses resting lopsidedly on the bridge of his nose.
"You deserve this, GamerGate scum," Red said.
"I haven't harassed anyone!" Gary wailed.
Red wagged a finger at him. "There's no point lying, Gary Garrett. We did our research." She picked up a tablet computer from the low wall next to her. "Your history of crimes against women goes back further than GamerGate. We know all about the woman you raped back at university."
This. Again? Inwardly he sighed. Was he ever going to be free of it?
"If you've read your research you'll know I didn't rape her," he said.
"I'm sure you didn't," Red snarked. "I'm sure it was all a big misunderstanding and you really thought she'd consented to having sex with you."
"No, I didn't rape her as I wasn't in the same part of the city where the assault took place. I was playing Magic in the student union bar all night. There's CCTV footage. It's in the court documents and why the case was thrown out. You'd know this if you'd read them instead of just the newspaper headlines."
It wouldn't matter.
Red scowled and put the tablet aside. "I don't need to read them to know they're the typical lies put out by the patriarchy."
It was the same with every SJW he'd attempted to reason with online. The moment they were given a fact or piece of evidence that didn't agree with their carefully cultivated and blinkered worldview it was all block, block, block. He might as well debate a brick.
This wasn't online. Neither was it debate.
They'd kidnapped him in broad daylight. If they were okay with that, what else were they okay with...?
"We've heard enough," Red said. "You are guilty and now it's time to pass sentence."
She picked up another object. It reflected the light from the burning torches. The blood drained from Gary's face as he realised it was a wickedly-sharp scalpel.
ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck
Something broke in Gary as he realised they were going to go as far as his worst fears. He started babbling.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'll leave GamerGate. I'll stop posting on Reddit. I'll delete my Twitter account."
He didn't want to die. Not over something as trivial and stupid as this.
He tried to stand up. Somebody stamped on the back of his calf.
"Please don't kill me. I'm sorry."
His stomach convulsed and he threw up. He lifted his head and saw the contemptuous eyes of the activists all around him.
"Too late," Red said. "GamerGate's reign of oppression has lasted for over a year now. But no longer. For you, GamerGate is over. It ends tonight."
Those last three words triggered something in Gary. He didn't know where the laughter came from. They were going to kill him. That was nothing to laugh about, yet laugh he did. Maybe it was the absurdity of the situation. Maybe it was a memory of the mockery a prominent anti-GGer had received when they'd used those exact same three words on Twitter. First it was a nervous giggle, then a chuckle, and finally an uncontrollable guffaw welling up from the depths of his belly.
Someone punched him from the left.
He kept laughing.
Another punch came in from the right. Gary went over. His glasses left his face and bounced off the grit in front of him.
He couldn't stop giggling, even as they hit him.
Fuck, he hadn't taken a beating like this since some bullies had gone after him one time in secondary school. All he wanted to do was curl up in a ball and bawl his eyes out until someone in authority came by.
No. Fuck it.
Gary spat out a bloodied tooth.
It hadn't worked back then and it wouldn't work for adult him either.
He awkwardly levered himself back to his knees and stared defiantly at Red.
"I'm laughing because you're ridiculous. You disrupt meetings with bomb threats, harass people off social media, even get people fired for comments taken out of context, and you say we're the hate group. Look at you. Even now you probably still think you're the victim in all this even as your goons literally knock my teeth out.
"You're losing. You took advantage of people's basic empathy and decency, but now that sympathy is running out. They're seeing through your screen of diversity, trigger warnings and safe spaces to see you for what you really are—another extremist authoritarian group that wants the power to dictate what other people can say, think and create.
"And, like all extremist authoritarian groups that don't get what they want, you fall back on intimidation and violence. In your twisted worldview I bet you don't even think you're doing anything wrong. No bad tactics only bad targets, am I right?
"Well guess what. That's not how it works in the real world, not in the eyes of the law. You're going to be put away for a very long time for this."
He stared from activist to activist. He doubted any of them were past college age.
"All of you."
He lingered last on Red. She was furious. This wasn't part of the script. He was supposed to huddle up on the ground and beg for mercy from their righteous judgment.
Fuck her. He'd been forced to bow to bullies before. No more, and not to ones as pathetic as this.
Red looked so pissed Gary thought she might charge over and stab him right there and then. Her companion in the white trench coat put a hand on her arm.
"Let him rage against imaginary persecution. He is in a higher court now," she said.
Red calmed down. "Your defence has been noted and rejected as the usual paranoid ramblings of chan trash. Sentence will be carried out." Red gave Gary a spiteful smile. "And for you the punishment will be deliciously ironic."
Skinny Blue, the blue-haired girl with the white trench coat, stepped forwards. Evidently it was her turn in the spotlight.
"We're not going to kill you," she said. Her thin lips were curled up in a smile Gary didn't like in the slightest. "The demon will do that."
Gary turned to look in the direction Skinny Blue indicated. His vision was blurry without his glasses. He saw a woman leaning casually against the crumbling wall of a dilapidated outbuilding. She was dressed in an outfit that had it existed in a game the SJWs would have attacked it for being problematic. It consisted of lots of tight black PVC that displayed more flesh than it covered, including a generous amount of her quite spectacular cleavage.
Demon? She looked more like a kinky adult film actress or professional dominatrix. The woman looked a little bored by the proceedings, as if she'd seen it all before and was eager to get it over and done with so she could collect her pay check.
Had the SJWs hired a sex worker... to what? Prank him? Rough him up, maybe even sexually abuse him in some twisted idea of payback?
Another student activist with a bandana obscuring the lower half of their face entered the open area. They carried an inflated airbed. They dragged it over to Gary and plonked it down amongst the weeds and gravel.
"Where's Anthony?" Red asked.
The man shrugged.
"I thought he wanted to see this," Red said.
See what? Gary thought.
They'd piqued the interest of the woman dressed as a dominatrix. She detached from the wall and approached them.
"Have you heard of succubi?" Skinny Blue asked. "In ancient times they were described as demons from hell that lured men into sexual congress in order to weaken and sometimes even kill them. Of course, our knowledge has advanced since those superstitious times. We now know demons are entities that inhabit an adjacent plane of existence to our own."
Gary knew what a succubus was. He'd played enough computer RPGs.
The woman approaching had horns, wings and a tail. What he first took to be a dominatrix outfit took on a more sinister, occult tinge.
He also knew demons were fiction. This was cosplay. Superbly put together cosplay, right down to the Morrigan-esque bat wings sticking out of the side of her head, but still cosplay.
"Demonology is a science nowadays," Skinny Blue said, "albeit an exclusive and carefully hidden one. Strip away the silly superstitions and pare the rituals right down to their core components and it's not all that dissimilar from computer programming. Carry out the correct set of instructions and it's possible to bring one of those entities into our plane of existence and bind them to your will."
The 'demon' walked up to Gary. Up close Gary's vision was less blurry and he saw she had both stunning looks and figure. She had high, pointed cheekbones and while her face was model-perfect, it was also very pale and possessed an aristocratic severity. Her long black hair was swept back and tied up in an austere ponytail. A PVC corset cinched her waist and emphasised the curves of her chest and ass. It looked both sexy and painful.
She nudged the airbed with her foot. "A little basic, but it will suffice." Her accent was clipped and full of Received Pronunciation—posh totty with hints of a filthy nature underneath.
She loosened her corset and turned the top down until her substantial breasts popped out. They were large, firm and perfectly round. Gary hadn't seen anything like them outside of anime—and that was supposed to be unrealistic!
"Shall we begin?" she asked.
"Oh, the myths were right about one thing," Skinny Blue said. "Succubi are like vampires. They feed off the energy given out during sexual intercourse, often depleting their victims entirely. That's why we don't need to worry about the authorities. When they find your body, your death will be put down to a tragic and untimely heart attack. Extradimensional sex vampires are extremely handy in that regard."
Red stepped up and cut the ties binding Gary's wrists.
"The irony is perfect," she said. "You misogynist shitlords idolise the unrealistic forms of beauty that oppress real women. It's fitting your end will come from a living embodiment of your own puerile masturbation fantasies."
Gary didn't know what to say. They were totally fucking loopy.
He looked at the semi-naked woman in the PVC bondage outfit. Was she in on this lunacy?
They had to be trolling. Yeah, that's what it was—dress a Barbie-doll model up in a stripperific dominatrix outfit and scare the shit out of him to make the point they weren't just sex objects.
Top kek, SJWs. You got me. You do have a sense of humour, who'd have thought it. Can we go home now? he thought.
It was then he noticed his knees were knocking together. Shaking. Trembling. It was like a chill creeping up from the ground. It slithered up his legs in gelid ropes and crawled up his spine on icy fingers. The sensation of dread rustled through the hairs on the back of his neck. His teeth started chattering even though the early October night wasn't that chilly.
This wasn't cold. It was an atavistic sensation of pure terror—an ancestral memory from back when humanity was small and fluffy and the nights were filled with teeth and claws. Black dread radiated out of the figure standing before him in pulsing waves.
He noticed her eyes, or rather the lack of them. At first he thought they were hidden in shadow, now he saw they were black wells sunk into an infinite abyss. Her horns, wings and tail were not cosplay accessories, they were the real thing. The spade tip of her tail flicked back and forth like a menacing snake.
All his senses screamed at him. This... thing... should not exist on this physical plane. Its wrongness caused his guts to twist and knot inside him, as if they wanted to turn themselves inside out.
Gary wanted to run. It was an overpowering instinct that wrapped talons around his primitive hindbrain and squeezed.
The demon reached over and caressed his right cheek. Black static crackled between nails as long as claws. Her cold black lips turned up at the corner in an equally cold smile.
Gary couldn't move. His legs were locked and shivering. He might as well have been frozen to the floor with great sheets of black ice.
"Look at how terrified he is," one of the masked goons said.
"It's because he's never seen a real woman's tits in the flesh before," another laughed.
Did they not see it? Did they not see what she—it—was?
"Mmm, the smell of your fear is delicious," the demon said. Her voice had picked up jagged cadences, like rusty metal scraping together.
Gary's bladder let go. Warm urine flooded his underpants and flowed down his legs. The demon reached down and cupped a hand beneath his sodden genitals. She brought it back to her face and licked her palm with a tongue as black as a bruise. She wrapped equally black lips around a long finger and gave it a suggestive suck.
"Mmm, tastes delicious as well," she purred.
Her face was a perfect doll's mask—as pale as porcelain with two abyssal pits for eyes. Gary tried to avoid meeting her stare. He feared being dragged into those dark wells and lost forever in endless darkness and cold.
"Where is the fire I heard earlier?" the demon asked.
"F-f-f-fu-fu-fu..."
Gary's chattering jaw wouldn't allow him to shape the retort. Instead he stared at the demon with sullen defiance.
She chuckled. Her lips, sensual and plump despite being as black as plague buboes, turned up at the corners in the facsimile of a smile.
"That's more like it," she said. "I like to see a little fight."
And then, as if it'd been turned off by a switch, the paralysing sensation of dread locking up Gary's bones was gone. It was as if what was visible of the demoness was a shadow behind a shrouding curtain. The others saw the silhouette of a beautiful woman. He'd been permitted a glimpse between the curtains and saw what really lay on the other side. But only for a moment, before the veils swished back across and the shadow of a beautiful woman returned.
Gary blinked. The feeling of overwhelming dread had vanished so quickly and completely he wondered if it had ever been real in the first place. Maybe it was just a temporary blip of brain chemistry brought on by the stress of the situation.
The girl smiled at him. His gaze roamed all over her stunning figure. She really did look like an anime succubus given flesh, improbable proportions and all. His gaze kept sticking on the perfect round globes of her tits. It triggered a primal sense of longing in him he hadn't felt since he was an awkward teen and completely clueless about love and sex.
Wait. Wasn't she a demon? She had horns. And wings. And that was definitely a tail swinging behind the delightful curves of her rump.
Gary's brow wrinkled.
And then his gaze switched back to the pale swell of her exposed breasts. He followed her smooth curves and was drawn into the soft pink canyon of her cleavage. His heart throbbed with need and was seconded by a similar throb in his loins.
"Why don't you take your clothes off and lie back on this comfortable airbed here?" she asked sweetly.
And then Gary was naked and lying on his back on the airbed. The details on precisely how he'd got here were a little hazy. The succubus stood astride him with her bat wings partially extended. Beyond her he saw the blood-red moon hanging in a cloudless sky.
"The succubus will now carry out sentence," Red stated.
Somebody muttered something that caused their neighbour to giggle. Red turned, face twisted in anger.
"Do not objectify the succubus!" she roared. "She is a divine instrument of feminist vengeance."
"Diabolic," Skinny Blue quietly corrected.
There was an unhealthy gleam in her eyes as she looked down at Gary. One hand had strayed inside her white jacket and was level with her crotch.
"Ignore them," the succubus said. "You should only have eyes for me."
She stood astride Gary like a colossus painted in shiny black PVC. Her big breasts curved out in two perfect hemispheres. Completely defying gravity, they floated above Gary like a pair of pale moons. Beyond them a perfect doll-mask face stared down at him with unrestrained lust. His eyes weren't going anywhere else.
The succubus reached down and undid a zipper at her crotch. She parted the shiny PVC to expose the hairless folds of her sex. A warm wave cascaded down and flowed over Gary, covering him and shutting out the chill October air like an invisible duvet. It brought with it traces of an exotic musk that caused Gary's nostrils to dilate and triggered a surge of excitement.
She made a gesture and Gary's erection rose like a cobra in thrall to a snake charmer. Pouting seductively, the sexy demoness bent her knees and squatted down on him. Her labia parted around his swollen glans as she impaled herself on him. She didn't go all the way down. Instead she took in maybe an inch of his length and teased him with little up and down motions that caused her moist inner walls to rub against his foreskin.
"I don't know why they think you're a virgin," the woman astride him said. "I taste three women on this prick. Mmm, one was good. I like that. There's no challenge when they haven't had a really good lay to compare you with."
Her labia fluffed out as she sank down and took his whole length inside her. She was tight. Wet enough for him slide up inside her with minimal resistance, but still tight. Very tight. And hot. Not just warm... hot.
Gary was fucking a demon.
A demon that had been summoned by a group of SJWs to punish him for transgressions that existed only in their heads.
This was fucked up.
He knew this and yet seemed powerless to do anything. It was like he was weirdly dislocated. He felt her rise up and down on him, felt the mattress rock and bounce beneath him to her motions, and yet he also felt like a passenger watching it all from afar.
The succubus smoothly moved her hips up and down. Her big breasts bounced and swayed with her movements. She let out low erotic moans.
"We should film this," one of the goons said.
"It wouldn't work," Skinny Blue said. "She is not of this plane of existence. Her form won't register on any recording device."
The succubus moved up and down with smooth grace. Gary felt his cock slide back and forth into her wet heat. Her vagina was incredible. He fit so snugly inside her it was like her parts had been specifically moulded to match his. It felt so good that even with the audience and strangeness of circumstances, Gary couldn't resist the urge to respond. He flexed his buttocks and thrust up to meet her.
The succubus slammed down on him and growled. The message was clear. She was the boss. Gary lay back and let her get on with it.
"She's so dominant," Skinny Blue said. Her hand was inside her coat, down between her legs, and she made no attempt to hide what she was doing with it.
The woman continued riding Gary. She wriggled her hips with each stroke, as if wanting to make sure no single millimetre of Gary's cock remained unexplored by her moist vaginal folds. Gary had never experienced sex with a partner as experienced as this. She really was a professional. She even had fine control over the muscular walls of her vagina. With each downstroke the walls of her pussy gave his erection a teasing little squeeze.
This didn't make sense. This was his punishment? She was fucking him like she was auditioning for a breakout part in the porn industry.
One of the activists evidently felt the same as he raised the same point.
"It's a statement," Red explained.
"I'm not so... comfortable watching this," the dissenting activist said. "It's too much like watching porn."
"Oh don't be so sex-negative," Red said. "If you're that uncomfortable go and look for Anthony. He'll be disappointed if he misses the climax."
Speaking of climaxes, Gary's wasn't far off. As the sumptuous inner walls of the dominatrix stroked up and down Gary's shaft he felt pressure building in his balls.
"Are you going to come for me, baby?" the woman in tight black PVC asked him.
That sounded like a splendid idea to Gary.
"Yes, come," Red said with a ghoulish glee. "Let her take your worthless soul."
"She is an embodiment of anti-life," Skinny Blue elaborated for the benefit of Gary. "Her corrupt womb takes life rather than creating it."
Oh. Yeah. Not a hot dominatrix escort. Demon.
Coming no longer sounded like such a splendid idea to Gary.
He tried to lift his arms. The succubus folded her body over his and pinned his arms back to the mattress. She stared into his eyes as her hips pumped up and down. Faster. Harder. He heard the fleshy slaps as their bodies came together, heard the inflatable mattress squeaking beneath them.
He felt pressure building in his balls.
Nope, nope, nope. Bad. Coming was bad. Really bad. He had to think unsexy thoughts—old grannies with wrinkly tits, STDs, pustulent gunk dripping from infected dicks. Think gross stuff. Infected dicks going into wrinkly granny pussy. Don't think about her soft vaginal walls stroking him inexorably to ecstasy. Don't look at her beautiful round breasts bouncing as she rode him.
The pressure grew. Gary's toes were curling. His whole body was trembling.
"I love it when they try to hold back," the demon said. "It's always futile."
Her hips came down in one final downstroke that engulfed Gary's whole length. She sat upright, closed her eyes and her black bat wings extended behind her. Her pussy seemed to melt around Gary, as if he'd sunk his cock into soft, warm dough.
"Yes," she murmured. "Yes, yes, yes."
No, no, no, Gary thought.
It was no good. Malleable flesh rippled up his shaft like lapping tongues. Softer lips kissed and suckled on the tip. He couldn't hold back anymore. His hips bucked and a slow explosion of pleasure rattled through him as he spurted a big load of semen up into her tight vagina.
Noooo!
She was going to drain his life and suck out all his fluids until only a shrivelled husk remained. She was going to tear out his soul. She was going to...
The violent throbbing pulses of ejaculation lessened and left behind the glow of post-orgasmic bliss. The succubus milked the dregs out of his pipes with gentle squeezes of her sex. Then, once the orgasm had subsided for both of them, she stood up, stretched and then zipped up her crotch.
"Mmm, that was rather pleasant," she said.
Gary looked up at her and blinked. He was still alive. At least he thought so. Aside from feeling like he'd just been run over by a steamroller made out of pure sex, he otherwise felt intact.
Was this supposed to happen?
The activists didn't think so. They looked at each other and chattered in confusion.
Skinny Blue addressed the demon in black PVC. "Succubus, what is going on? Why have you not slain and taken the soul of this human as per the conditions of our contract?"
The succubus turned to her. Her face was a mask of innocence. "You summoned me to slay and take the soul of one who has abused and is abusive to women. I have done as you desired."
She smiled down at Gary.
"I am also grateful for this additional offering of sex you have provided me. He was most agreeable, despite not being a virgin."
Skinny Blue looked puzzled.
So did Red. Then her head jerked up. "Where's Anthony?" she asked.
A door to one of the outbuildings opened. The masked activist that had left earlier because he felt uncomfortable stumbled out into the courtyard. He clawed off the bandana obscuring the lower half of his face. The skin beneath was pale and waxy. He turned and threw up over the wall.
The succubus's pale face was a picture of innocence. Apart from her eyes. They shone with dark amusement.
The activists chattered amongst themselves and went over to the outbuilding. One went through the doorway. He returned moments later with vomit already spilling down his chin. He doubled up next to the entrance and splattered the gravel with the contents of his stomach.
The succubus took Gary's hand and helped him to his feet.
"Now would be a really good time to make a run for it," she whispered in his ear.
THE END
This is the #GamerGate story, the story I originally wanted to enter into Literotica's Halloween contest, but didn't get finished in time. This turned out to be a good thing as the original had some characters and aspects that weren't working.
I intended the story as a parody (with sex!) of another story I read on the internet that began with the same premise, but took a different path with vastly different characters. How I've treated the #GamerGate controversy might ruffle a few feathers, but these are feathers that needed to be ruffled as far as I'm concerned. While the scenario and characters are intentionally far-fetched (the presence of an extra-dimensional sex demon should be a giveaway!), I did want to sneak a few serious points in. I hope they don't detract from the other fun and sexy stuff too much.
Oh, and because it references #GamerGate and SJWs, there's a chance some of you might be new readers unfamiliar with my other work. If you're wondering why the story suddenly lurches into hardcore succubus smut, well that's what I write and what I'm known for. If gratuitous descriptions of sex make you feel uncomfortable, now would be a good time to click the back button on your internet browser. Same goes for anyone under 18, you really shouldn't be here right now! :)
Feel free to leave any criticism in the comments. Even call me rude names if you feel strongly enough. But be warned, I'm a bit of a masochist, so any nasty insults will likely turn me on... sexually. ;)
A Trial in Vennington
"Bring him out!"
Gary Garrett quaked beneath a black hood. His hands were bound together behind his back by some kind of plastic tie.
Who were they? Al Qaeda? ISIS? The IRA?
Was the IRA even a thing anymore?
What did they want with him? He was a nobody. He worked as a community manager for one of the smaller DoTA-type online games. The job didn't pay particularly well, but it allowed Gary to work in an area he loved.
He'd been walking home from the bus stop when a van had pulled up alongside him, masked men had jumped out, shoved a hood over his head and bundled him inside. He hadn't even got a glimpse of their faces. After a short drive Gary had been shoved out and left in a small room with a bare concrete floor for what seemed like hours.
Gary was pulled, roughly, to his feet and led outside. The hood was taken off his head and almost took his spectacles with it. They snagged on the rough fabric, but only slid a few centimetres up his forehead before dropping back into place on the bridge of his nose.
It was night time. A blood-red moon hung above them in a cloudless sky. He was standing in the yard of what appeared to be a disused farm. The surrounding buildings were ramshackle and moss-encrusted, as if the farm had been in a state of disuse for some time. The yard was lit up by a ring of burning torches.
Gary didn't know what to make of his captors. They definitely weren't ISIS. He counted seven of them—two women and five men, although it was harder to determine with the men as all five wore dark clothing and black bandanas over the lower half of their faces. They looked more like student activists than terrorists. The two women made no attempt to hide their faces. One looked an obvious radical student feminist—right down to her bright red hair and horn-rimmed spectacles. The other girl also had dyed hair—light blue in her case—but had chosen more eclectic attire. She wore a long white leather trench coat and looked like a mashup between gothic spy and urban warlock.
"Do you know why you're here?" the woman with red hair asked.
Gary shook his head. He looked around. Other than the blue-haired girl in the white trench coat his captors looked like the same sort of people he'd seen on YouTube videos of campus demonstrations, the sort of people that claimed to be liberal and yet pulled fire alarms and blocked entrances to prevent people they didn't like giving talks at universities. It couldn't be them, though. Those campus activists might be extremists, but surely they weren't extreme enough to yank people off streets in broad daylight.
"You, Gary Garrett, are to face trial for your crimes against feminism," Red informed him.
Whaaat? Gary gawped at her. He would have laughed out loud at the silliness of it had he not been so terrified he'd already wet himself.
"You are a member of GamerGate, that vile online misogynist hate movement devoted to driving women out of the games industry and off the internet."
Gary opened his mouth to speak.
Red pushed out a hand to interrupt. "Don't try to deny it," she said sharply. "Your Twitter handle is @TheMagnificentGGG and you post on Reddit as GaimerGaryGarrett. We have your posting history for the last six months. We know you were at the GamerGate meetup last night."
"I wasn't going to deny it," Gary said. "Yes, I'm pro-GG, but it's not what—"
Red held up a hand. "Stop!" she said.
She looked around at the other goons with a smug smile on her lips.
"Anyone want to finish for him?"
"Actually, it's about ethics in videogames journalism," one of the goons mocked in a silly voice. It was followed by snerks and sniggers from the others.
Yeah, he'd walked right into that one, Gary thought.
"I haven't harassed anyone," he said. "I only started posting in support of the tag because I was fed up with the gaming press constantly shitting on its audience."
"Aw diddums," Red said. "Did the straight white man with all the privilege in the world get his fee-fees hurt?"
"Um, you do realise this is kidnapping," Gary said. "I'm pretty sure that's still a fairly serious crime. You could all go to prison for this."
Red's face twisted in a snarl. "We do not recognise or acknowledge your patriarchal system of abuse and oppression."
Gary watched with a wide-eyed mix of both astonishment and horror.
They were mad. Not just extreme. Mad.
He'd had the misfortune of running into people like this on the internet before. Everyone called them Social Justice Warriors, or SJWs for short. It was a label meant to be ironic on both counts. They were only interested in social justice in as much as it gave them a convenient club to bash people with and an equally convenient shield to deflect criticism when others tried to call out their bullying and harassment. Thankfully—like the Keyboard Warrior meme they were descended from—their 'warrioring' was mostly confined to getting angry and shouting at people on social media. Until now...
Someone gave Gary a solid kick to the back of his legs. He buckled and fell down to his knees.
"GamerGate has gone on too long," Red said. "The authorities won't do anything about it, so we've been forced to take matters into our own hands. Your harassment and women hating must stop."
"But I don't hate women," Gary protested. "There are two girls on my regular League of Legends team. One of them even taught me how to get good."
Someone hit him on the back of his head. It was an open-handed slap rather than a full-blooded punch, but it still rattled his brain inside his skull.
"We do not use girl!" Red roared. "Girl is a diminutive used to deny full-grown women the respect they deserve."
"Um, she's like fifteen," Gary said. "And she hates anti-GG even more than I do."
He was struck again. This time it was a closed fist. It knocked his head to the side and left his glasses resting lopsidedly on the bridge of his nose.
"You deserve this, GamerGate scum," Red said.
"I haven't harassed anyone!" Gary wailed.
Red wagged a finger at him. "There's no point lying, Gary Garrett. We did our research." She picked up a tablet computer from the low wall next to her. "Your history of crimes against women goes back further than GamerGate. We know all about the woman you raped back at university."
This. Again? Inwardly he sighed. Was he ever going to be free of it?
"If you've read your research you'll know I didn't rape her," he said.
"I'm sure you didn't," Red snarked. "I'm sure it was all a big misunderstanding and you really thought she'd consented to having sex with you."
"No, I didn't rape her as I wasn't in the same part of the city where the assault took place. I was playing Magic in the student union bar all night. There's CCTV footage. It's in the court documents and why the case was thrown out. You'd know this if you'd read them instead of just the newspaper headlines."
It wouldn't matter.
Red scowled and put the tablet aside. "I don't need to read them to know they're the typical lies put out by the patriarchy."
It was the same with every SJW he'd attempted to reason with online. The moment they were given a fact or piece of evidence that didn't agree with their carefully cultivated and blinkered worldview it was all block, block, block. He might as well debate a brick.
This wasn't online. Neither was it debate.
They'd kidnapped him in broad daylight. If they were okay with that, what else were they okay with...?
"We've heard enough," Red said. "You are guilty and now it's time to pass sentence."
She picked up another object. It reflected the light from the burning torches. The blood drained from Gary's face as he realised it was a wickedly-sharp scalpel.
ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck
Something broke in Gary as he realised they were going to go as far as his worst fears. He started babbling.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'll leave GamerGate. I'll stop posting on Reddit. I'll delete my Twitter account."
He didn't want to die. Not over something as trivial and stupid as this.
He tried to stand up. Somebody stamped on the back of his calf.
"Please don't kill me. I'm sorry."
His stomach convulsed and he threw up. He lifted his head and saw the contemptuous eyes of the activists all around him.
"Too late," Red said. "GamerGate's reign of oppression has lasted for over a year now. But no longer. For you, GamerGate is over. It ends tonight."
Those last three words triggered something in Gary. He didn't know where the laughter came from. They were going to kill him. That was nothing to laugh about, yet laugh he did. Maybe it was the absurdity of the situation. Maybe it was a memory of the mockery a prominent anti-GGer had received when they'd used those exact same three words on Twitter. First it was a nervous giggle, then a chuckle, and finally an uncontrollable guffaw welling up from the depths of his belly.
Someone punched him from the left.
He kept laughing.
Another punch came in from the right. Gary went over. His glasses left his face and bounced off the grit in front of him.
He couldn't stop giggling, even as they hit him.
Fuck, he hadn't taken a beating like this since some bullies had gone after him one time in secondary school. All he wanted to do was curl up in a ball and bawl his eyes out until someone in authority came by.
No. Fuck it.
Gary spat out a bloodied tooth.
It hadn't worked back then and it wouldn't work for adult him either.
He awkwardly levered himself back to his knees and stared defiantly at Red.
"I'm laughing because you're ridiculous. You disrupt meetings with bomb threats, harass people off social media, even get people fired for comments taken out of context, and you say we're the hate group. Look at you. Even now you probably still think you're the victim in all this even as your goons literally knock my teeth out.
"You're losing. You took advantage of people's basic empathy and decency, but now that sympathy is running out. They're seeing through your screen of diversity, trigger warnings and safe spaces to see you for what you really are—another extremist authoritarian group that wants the power to dictate what other people can say, think and create.
"And, like all extremist authoritarian groups that don't get what they want, you fall back on intimidation and violence. In your twisted worldview I bet you don't even think you're doing anything wrong. No bad tactics only bad targets, am I right?
"Well guess what. That's not how it works in the real world, not in the eyes of the law. You're going to be put away for a very long time for this."
He stared from activist to activist. He doubted any of them were past college age.
"All of you."
He lingered last on Red. She was furious. This wasn't part of the script. He was supposed to huddle up on the ground and beg for mercy from their righteous judgment.
Fuck her. He'd been forced to bow to bullies before. No more, and not to ones as pathetic as this.
Red looked so pissed Gary thought she might charge over and stab him right there and then. Her companion in the white trench coat put a hand on her arm.
"Let him rage against imaginary persecution. He is in a higher court now," she said.
Red calmed down. "Your defence has been noted and rejected as the usual paranoid ramblings of chan trash. Sentence will be carried out." Red gave Gary a spiteful smile. "And for you the punishment will be deliciously ironic."
Skinny Blue, the blue-haired girl with the white trench coat, stepped forwards. Evidently it was her turn in the spotlight.
"We're not going to kill you," she said. Her thin lips were curled up in a smile Gary didn't like in the slightest. "The demon will do that."
Gary turned to look in the direction Skinny Blue indicated. His vision was blurry without his glasses. He saw a woman leaning casually against the crumbling wall of a dilapidated outbuilding. She was dressed in an outfit that had it existed in a game the SJWs would have attacked it for being problematic. It consisted of lots of tight black PVC that displayed more flesh than it covered, including a generous amount of her quite spectacular cleavage.
Demon? She looked more like a kinky adult film actress or professional dominatrix. The woman looked a little bored by the proceedings, as if she'd seen it all before and was eager to get it over and done with so she could collect her pay check.
Had the SJWs hired a sex worker... to what? Prank him? Rough him up, maybe even sexually abuse him in some twisted idea of payback?
Another student activist with a bandana obscuring the lower half of their face entered the open area. They carried an inflated airbed. They dragged it over to Gary and plonked it down amongst the weeds and gravel.
"Where's Anthony?" Red asked.
The man shrugged.
"I thought he wanted to see this," Red said.
See what? Gary thought.
They'd piqued the interest of the woman dressed as a dominatrix. She detached from the wall and approached them.
"Have you heard of succubi?" Skinny Blue asked. "In ancient times they were described as demons from hell that lured men into sexual congress in order to weaken and sometimes even kill them. Of course, our knowledge has advanced since those superstitious times. We now know demons are entities that inhabit an adjacent plane of existence to our own."
Gary knew what a succubus was. He'd played enough computer RPGs.
The woman approaching had horns, wings and a tail. What he first took to be a dominatrix outfit took on a more sinister, occult tinge.
He also knew demons were fiction. This was cosplay. Superbly put together cosplay, right down to the Morrigan-esque bat wings sticking out of the side of her head, but still cosplay.
"Demonology is a science nowadays," Skinny Blue said, "albeit an exclusive and carefully hidden one. Strip away the silly superstitions and pare the rituals right down to their core components and it's not all that dissimilar from computer programming. Carry out the correct set of instructions and it's possible to bring one of those entities into our plane of existence and bind them to your will."
The 'demon' walked up to Gary. Up close Gary's vision was less blurry and he saw she had both stunning looks and figure. She had high, pointed cheekbones and while her face was model-perfect, it was also very pale and possessed an aristocratic severity. Her long black hair was swept back and tied up in an austere ponytail. A PVC corset cinched her waist and emphasised the curves of her chest and ass. It looked both sexy and painful.
She nudged the airbed with her foot. "A little basic, but it will suffice." Her accent was clipped and full of Received Pronunciation—posh totty with hints of a filthy nature underneath.
She loosened her corset and turned the top down until her substantial breasts popped out. They were large, firm and perfectly round. Gary hadn't seen anything like them outside of anime—and that was supposed to be unrealistic!
"Shall we begin?" she asked.
"Oh, the myths were right about one thing," Skinny Blue said. "Succubi are like vampires. They feed off the energy given out during sexual intercourse, often depleting their victims entirely. That's why we don't need to worry about the authorities. When they find your body, your death will be put down to a tragic and untimely heart attack. Extradimensional sex vampires are extremely handy in that regard."
Red stepped up and cut the ties binding Gary's wrists.
"The irony is perfect," she said. "You misogynist shitlords idolise the unrealistic forms of beauty that oppress real women. It's fitting your end will come from a living embodiment of your own puerile masturbation fantasies."
Gary didn't know what to say. They were totally fucking loopy.
He looked at the semi-naked woman in the PVC bondage outfit. Was she in on this lunacy?
They had to be trolling. Yeah, that's what it was—dress a Barbie-doll model up in a stripperific dominatrix outfit and scare the shit out of him to make the point they weren't just sex objects.
Top kek, SJWs. You got me. You do have a sense of humour, who'd have thought it. Can we go home now? he thought.
It was then he noticed his knees were knocking together. Shaking. Trembling. It was like a chill creeping up from the ground. It slithered up his legs in gelid ropes and crawled up his spine on icy fingers. The sensation of dread rustled through the hairs on the back of his neck. His teeth started chattering even though the early October night wasn't that chilly.
This wasn't cold. It was an atavistic sensation of pure terror—an ancestral memory from back when humanity was small and fluffy and the nights were filled with teeth and claws. Black dread radiated out of the figure standing before him in pulsing waves.
He noticed her eyes, or rather the lack of them. At first he thought they were hidden in shadow, now he saw they were black wells sunk into an infinite abyss. Her horns, wings and tail were not cosplay accessories, they were the real thing. The spade tip of her tail flicked back and forth like a menacing snake.
All his senses screamed at him. This... thing... should not exist on this physical plane. Its wrongness caused his guts to twist and knot inside him, as if they wanted to turn themselves inside out.
Gary wanted to run. It was an overpowering instinct that wrapped talons around his primitive hindbrain and squeezed.
The demon reached over and caressed his right cheek. Black static crackled between nails as long as claws. Her cold black lips turned up at the corner in an equally cold smile.
Gary couldn't move. His legs were locked and shivering. He might as well have been frozen to the floor with great sheets of black ice.
"Look at how terrified he is," one of the masked goons said.
"It's because he's never seen a real woman's tits in the flesh before," another laughed.
Did they not see it? Did they not see what she—it—was?
"Mmm, the smell of your fear is delicious," the demon said. Her voice had picked up jagged cadences, like rusty metal scraping together.
Gary's bladder let go. Warm urine flooded his underpants and flowed down his legs. The demon reached down and cupped a hand beneath his sodden genitals. She brought it back to her face and licked her palm with a tongue as black as a bruise. She wrapped equally black lips around a long finger and gave it a suggestive suck.
"Mmm, tastes delicious as well," she purred.
Her face was a perfect doll's mask—as pale as porcelain with two abyssal pits for eyes. Gary tried to avoid meeting her stare. He feared being dragged into those dark wells and lost forever in endless darkness and cold.
"Where is the fire I heard earlier?" the demon asked.
"F-f-f-fu-fu-fu..."
Gary's chattering jaw wouldn't allow him to shape the retort. Instead he stared at the demon with sullen defiance.
She chuckled. Her lips, sensual and plump despite being as black as plague buboes, turned up at the corners in the facsimile of a smile.
"That's more like it," she said. "I like to see a little fight."
And then, as if it'd been turned off by a switch, the paralysing sensation of dread locking up Gary's bones was gone. It was as if what was visible of the demoness was a shadow behind a shrouding curtain. The others saw the silhouette of a beautiful woman. He'd been permitted a glimpse between the curtains and saw what really lay on the other side. But only for a moment, before the veils swished back across and the shadow of a beautiful woman returned.
Gary blinked. The feeling of overwhelming dread had vanished so quickly and completely he wondered if it had ever been real in the first place. Maybe it was just a temporary blip of brain chemistry brought on by the stress of the situation.
The girl smiled at him. His gaze roamed all over her stunning figure. She really did look like an anime succubus given flesh, improbable proportions and all. His gaze kept sticking on the perfect round globes of her tits. It triggered a primal sense of longing in him he hadn't felt since he was an awkward teen and completely clueless about love and sex.
Wait. Wasn't she a demon? She had horns. And wings. And that was definitely a tail swinging behind the delightful curves of her rump.
Gary's brow wrinkled.
And then his gaze switched back to the pale swell of her exposed breasts. He followed her smooth curves and was drawn into the soft pink canyon of her cleavage. His heart throbbed with need and was seconded by a similar throb in his loins.
"Why don't you take your clothes off and lie back on this comfortable airbed here?" she asked sweetly.
And then Gary was naked and lying on his back on the airbed. The details on precisely how he'd got here were a little hazy. The succubus stood astride him with her bat wings partially extended. Beyond her he saw the blood-red moon hanging in a cloudless sky.
"The succubus will now carry out sentence," Red stated.
Somebody muttered something that caused their neighbour to giggle. Red turned, face twisted in anger.
"Do not objectify the succubus!" she roared. "She is a divine instrument of feminist vengeance."
"Diabolic," Skinny Blue quietly corrected.
There was an unhealthy gleam in her eyes as she looked down at Gary. One hand had strayed inside her white jacket and was level with her crotch.
"Ignore them," the succubus said. "You should only have eyes for me."
She stood astride Gary like a colossus painted in shiny black PVC. Her big breasts curved out in two perfect hemispheres. Completely defying gravity, they floated above Gary like a pair of pale moons. Beyond them a perfect doll-mask face stared down at him with unrestrained lust. His eyes weren't going anywhere else.
The succubus reached down and undid a zipper at her crotch. She parted the shiny PVC to expose the hairless folds of her sex. A warm wave cascaded down and flowed over Gary, covering him and shutting out the chill October air like an invisible duvet. It brought with it traces of an exotic musk that caused Gary's nostrils to dilate and triggered a surge of excitement.
She made a gesture and Gary's erection rose like a cobra in thrall to a snake charmer. Pouting seductively, the sexy demoness bent her knees and squatted down on him. Her labia parted around his swollen glans as she impaled herself on him. She didn't go all the way down. Instead she took in maybe an inch of his length and teased him with little up and down motions that caused her moist inner walls to rub against his foreskin.
"I don't know why they think you're a virgin," the woman astride him said. "I taste three women on this prick. Mmm, one was good. I like that. There's no challenge when they haven't had a really good lay to compare you with."
Her labia fluffed out as she sank down and took his whole length inside her. She was tight. Wet enough for him slide up inside her with minimal resistance, but still tight. Very tight. And hot. Not just warm... hot.
Gary was fucking a demon.
A demon that had been summoned by a group of SJWs to punish him for transgressions that existed only in their heads.
This was fucked up.
He knew this and yet seemed powerless to do anything. It was like he was weirdly dislocated. He felt her rise up and down on him, felt the mattress rock and bounce beneath him to her motions, and yet he also felt like a passenger watching it all from afar.
The succubus smoothly moved her hips up and down. Her big breasts bounced and swayed with her movements. She let out low erotic moans.
"We should film this," one of the goons said.
"It wouldn't work," Skinny Blue said. "She is not of this plane of existence. Her form won't register on any recording device."
The succubus moved up and down with smooth grace. Gary felt his cock slide back and forth into her wet heat. Her vagina was incredible. He fit so snugly inside her it was like her parts had been specifically moulded to match his. It felt so good that even with the audience and strangeness of circumstances, Gary couldn't resist the urge to respond. He flexed his buttocks and thrust up to meet her.
The succubus slammed down on him and growled. The message was clear. She was the boss. Gary lay back and let her get on with it.
"She's so dominant," Skinny Blue said. Her hand was inside her coat, down between her legs, and she made no attempt to hide what she was doing with it.
The woman continued riding Gary. She wriggled her hips with each stroke, as if wanting to make sure no single millimetre of Gary's cock remained unexplored by her moist vaginal folds. Gary had never experienced sex with a partner as experienced as this. She really was a professional. She even had fine control over the muscular walls of her vagina. With each downstroke the walls of her pussy gave his erection a teasing little squeeze.
This didn't make sense. This was his punishment? She was fucking him like she was auditioning for a breakout part in the porn industry.
One of the activists evidently felt the same as he raised the same point.
"It's a statement," Red explained.
"I'm not so... comfortable watching this," the dissenting activist said. "It's too much like watching porn."
"Oh don't be so sex-negative," Red said. "If you're that uncomfortable go and look for Anthony. He'll be disappointed if he misses the climax."
Speaking of climaxes, Gary's wasn't far off. As the sumptuous inner walls of the dominatrix stroked up and down Gary's shaft he felt pressure building in his balls.
"Are you going to come for me, baby?" the woman in tight black PVC asked him.
That sounded like a splendid idea to Gary.
"Yes, come," Red said with a ghoulish glee. "Let her take your worthless soul."
"She is an embodiment of anti-life," Skinny Blue elaborated for the benefit of Gary. "Her corrupt womb takes life rather than creating it."
Oh. Yeah. Not a hot dominatrix escort. Demon.
Coming no longer sounded like such a splendid idea to Gary.
He tried to lift his arms. The succubus folded her body over his and pinned his arms back to the mattress. She stared into his eyes as her hips pumped up and down. Faster. Harder. He heard the fleshy slaps as their bodies came together, heard the inflatable mattress squeaking beneath them.
He felt pressure building in his balls.
Nope, nope, nope. Bad. Coming was bad. Really bad. He had to think unsexy thoughts—old grannies with wrinkly tits, STDs, pustulent gunk dripping from infected dicks. Think gross stuff. Infected dicks going into wrinkly granny pussy. Don't think about her soft vaginal walls stroking him inexorably to ecstasy. Don't look at her beautiful round breasts bouncing as she rode him.
The pressure grew. Gary's toes were curling. His whole body was trembling.
"I love it when they try to hold back," the demon said. "It's always futile."
Her hips came down in one final downstroke that engulfed Gary's whole length. She sat upright, closed her eyes and her black bat wings extended behind her. Her pussy seemed to melt around Gary, as if he'd sunk his cock into soft, warm dough.
"Yes," she murmured. "Yes, yes, yes."
No, no, no, Gary thought.
It was no good. Malleable flesh rippled up his shaft like lapping tongues. Softer lips kissed and suckled on the tip. He couldn't hold back anymore. His hips bucked and a slow explosion of pleasure rattled through him as he spurted a big load of semen up into her tight vagina.
Noooo!
She was going to drain his life and suck out all his fluids until only a shrivelled husk remained. She was going to tear out his soul. She was going to...
The violent throbbing pulses of ejaculation lessened and left behind the glow of post-orgasmic bliss. The succubus milked the dregs out of his pipes with gentle squeezes of her sex. Then, once the orgasm had subsided for both of them, she stood up, stretched and then zipped up her crotch.
"Mmm, that was rather pleasant," she said.
Gary looked up at her and blinked. He was still alive. At least he thought so. Aside from feeling like he'd just been run over by a steamroller made out of pure sex, he otherwise felt intact.
Was this supposed to happen?
The activists didn't think so. They looked at each other and chattered in confusion.
Skinny Blue addressed the demon in black PVC. "Succubus, what is going on? Why have you not slain and taken the soul of this human as per the conditions of our contract?"
The succubus turned to her. Her face was a mask of innocence. "You summoned me to slay and take the soul of one who has abused and is abusive to women. I have done as you desired."
She smiled down at Gary.
"I am also grateful for this additional offering of sex you have provided me. He was most agreeable, despite not being a virgin."
Skinny Blue looked puzzled.
So did Red. Then her head jerked up. "Where's Anthony?" she asked.
A door to one of the outbuildings opened. The masked activist that had left earlier because he felt uncomfortable stumbled out into the courtyard. He clawed off the bandana obscuring the lower half of his face. The skin beneath was pale and waxy. He turned and threw up over the wall.
The succubus's pale face was a picture of innocence. Apart from her eyes. They shone with dark amusement.
The activists chattered amongst themselves and went over to the outbuilding. One went through the doorway. He returned moments later with vomit already spilling down his chin. He doubled up next to the entrance and splattered the gravel with the contents of his stomach.
The succubus took Gary's hand and helped him to his feet.
"Now would be a really good time to make a run for it," she whispered in his ear.
THE END
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