Succubus Summoning 209 (part 3)

Still just about keeping to a daily schedule by the seat of my pants.  As I'm being a little faster and looser with the editing than normal, there will be a few typos and other stupid errors.  Some people commented and pointed out the mistakes they'd spotted yesterday.  Thanks for that and keep it up.

Anyway, back to Phil...

* * * *

Nÿte led Phil through a series of corridors and then out through a metal door at the base of one of the towers.  They were outside.  The pink sky was far above them and a slight breeze carried faint traces of sultry perfume.  This side of the castle was perched on a rocky promontory.  Rough-hewn steps in the stone wall curled down to a round structure that resembled a miniature coliseum.  As they descended Phil was able to peer over the circular walls and see an arena floored with black sand.

It looked like—

“Is that a fighting arena?” Phil asked.

Nÿte nodded.  “One of my favourite parts of the castle.”

That the succubi’s castle had its own fighting arena didn’t come as that much of a surprise to Phil.

“This is more of that catering to all kinds of fetish thing, isn’t it?” Phil said.

“Yes,” Nÿte said.  “Some like to play with themes of submission and dominance in a more physical manner.  Our little arena makes a perfect playground.  I like to spar here with daemons from the other dominions as well.  I believe succubi should extend their abilities beyond the arts of pleasure.”

“We’re going to spar?”  Phil asked, dreading her answer.  He knew from experience Nÿte took a lot of pleasure in inflicting pain.

“Not today,” Nÿte said in a way that implied they would at some not-quite-so distant point in Phil’s future.  “You have some unfinished business to attend to first.”

Phil was still pondering what she meant as they reached the base of the steps and walked up a short flight of steps that terminated in a massive curved gate that resembled a giant vagina.  Steps curled away along the inside of the walls and up into the stands on either side of the entrance.  Nÿte carried straight on down a wide tunnel and took Phil through a small door on the left.  They walked along a narrow stone corridor and then entered a small stone room where the other succubi were waiting for him.

With them was a figure Phil recognised.  It looked like a young man in baggy blue jeans, a Slayer T-shirt and a knitted blue bobble hat.  He was wearing an oversized pair of headphones.  Phil knew him.  His name was Carnivrillarofax.  He was a Kullockian rage daemon and a good deal more fearsome than his mild art-student appearance suggested.

“’Sup,” Carny said to Phil.

“Hi,” Phil said back.

While Carny was a terrifyingly deadly rage daemon, he’d never been anything less than friendly to Phil.  Actually, for something that was capable of tearing a person’s arm off in the blink of an eye, Carny was a pretty decent bloke.

“Carnivrillarofax is our special guest,” Nurse Honey said.

Cέrμləa, back in her little girl form, bobbed excitedly in front of the older succubus.  “We have a surprise for you,” she said.  “And Carny’s here to watch.”

Good surprise?  Bad surprise?  Phil looked at the faces of the daemons.  They weren’t giving anything away.

“I’ll go and get it ready,” Nÿte said.  Her high heels clicked against the stone floor as she left the room.

“What combat magic do you know?” Carny asked.  “I never got a chance to see it when we last met.”

When they’d last met Phil had spent most of the time semi-conscious on the floor while Rosa and Carny had torn through a pub of hooligans.

“A little,” Phil said.  “I know some defensive shields—magic and daemon—and some summons and dismissals.  At Wargsnouts we don’t get to learn offensive magic until the 3rd year.  I’ve been learning some fire magic with Cέrμləa, though.”

Carny looked alarmed.  He looked at the other succubi.  “Are you sure he’s ready for this?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” Rosa said.  “He responds best under pressure.”

Carny continued to look doubtful.

“Okay okay, I’ll give him some extra fire magic to help out,” Rosa said.

She walked over to Phil and held out her hand.  A little ball of fire popped into existence and floated above her palm.

“So you know how this bit works?” she asked.

Phil nodded.  “It’s an extension of the soul,” he said.

Rosa looked aghast.  “Cέrμləa!” she turned and glowered at the little daemon with spiky blue hair.

Cέrμləa looked at the floor.  “Sowwee,” she said.  “I started with the simple explanation, the one that college tells their first and second years.”

Rosa shook her head.  “The soul can’t generate that level of energy.  The fire is summoned from the Elemental Plane of Consumas Infernum that lies at the intersection of the Dominions of Lust, Gluttony and Wrath.”

“We can always postpone this until he’s had more time,” Carny suggested.  “I’m okay with that.”

Rosa ignored him and carried on with her explanation.

“The fire isn’t truly sentient, but it can respond to its summoner’s will.  For beginners there are various words that aid in focusing and transmitting their desires.

“Flambasglob.”  Rosa threw a fireball at the stone wall.

“Flambas-Ejaculax.”  A tongue of flame jetted out of her palm and licked the stone wall.

“Shelduk nidafacii Flambastinaai.”  Flames span and formed a Catherine wheel shield about a foot and a half in diameter.

“Gladucx nidafacii Flambastinaai.”  Flames extended in her other hand to form a sword.

“There’s also Immolatum nida Flambastinaai.”  A flickering nimbus of flames surrounded Rosa’s body.  “The flames won’t burn the summoner’s flesh, but they will set fire to your clothes and anything else around you.”

She closed her hand into a fist and the flames flickered out.

“Get all that?”  Rosa smiled at him.

“Uh,” Phil said.  The words span around in his brain and fell down a black whirlpool of misapprehension.  He wasn’t sure he liked where all this was going.

“Oh, and this is important,” Rosa said, holding up a finger.  “The flames nibble on the spiritual energy of the summoner as the price for summoning them.  Summon too many or run out of energy to feed them and your soul will catch alight and you’ll burn to a crisp.  Many a stupid warlock has gone out that way.”

Phil’s eyes boggled in fear.

“Really, I can do this some other time,” Carny said.

Rosa put an arm around Phil and smiled at the rage daemon.  “He’ll be fine,” she said.

“There are other forces you can call on,” Verdé said.  “The heart of the Qištu is close to here.  It will listen to even the quietest and most inexperienced voices.  Ĝiškimiti za bursaĝ ul Urpâdu ni Guberim li Išduum Qištu.”

She held out a hand and tugged upwards as if pulling on an invisible rope.  Vines erupted out of the stone floor and tangled around Rosa’s ankles and lower calves.

“Don’t confuse the poor boy with too much,” Rosa said.  She snapped her fingers and the green tendrils caught fire and burnt to ash.  “They’re weak to fire, so he should use that.”

They?

Phil wished someone would tell him what was going on.  Instead Rosa steered him through another door and then down some steps that terminated in a corridor leading out to the arena floor.  The daemons left him there.  Verdé was last to go.  She blew him a kiss that tingled on his lips.

Phil looked ahead at the archway.  His heart fluttered anxiously in his chest.  He knew by now that turning around and running away was not an option.  He took a deep breath, walked through the archway and stepped out onto the black sands of the arena floor.

And it was an amphitheatre—a coliseum in miniature.  The central arena was a circle of around thirty metres in diameter.  It was surrounded by a stone wall about ten feet high.  Above the wall, stone benches provided seating in rising concentric rows.  Metal portcullises were set into the wall at regular intervals.

No cheering greeted Phil as he entered the arena.  Most of the seating was empty.  The succubi and Carny were sitting together up on the top row to his left.  Cέrμləa sat perched on the edge of her seat, her hands pressed against the sides of her face.  Rosa lounged casually next to her.  Carny sat in the middle and looked as chilled as ever.  Nurse Honey sat next to him, looking regal despite wearing a fetishized nurse’s outfit.  Verdé joined them and sat elegantly on the end.  Nÿte was missing.

“Savour this,” Rosa called down.

The succubi weren’t the only audience.  Puff and Pfaffle were sitting in the middle row on the other side of the amphitheatre.  They acknowledged his presence with a languid wave.

Phil’s heart continued to thud loudly in his chest.  He had a horrible feeling they expected him to fight something and he felt woefully unprepared.  Wargsnouts students were strictly forbidden from engaging in magical duels until their fifth year.

A heavy black portcullis slammed down behind him and Phil jumped.  Well that was that.  Definitely no running away now.

Nÿte emerged on the other side of the arena.  She was not alone.  Walking next to her was a daemon that was half human and half spider.  A naked, pale-skinned female torso rose up out of a black bulbous abdomen.  She walked on eight spindly legs.

Phil recognised her.

Fuck

L’mactia.

* * * *

to be continued (because I'm a bastard and drop cliffhangers right in the middle of chapters) . . .

Part 4 here

Succubus Summoning 209 (part 2)

* * * *

Darvill cursed himself for his stupidity as soon as he stepped through the door.  Too rash.  Too hurried.  He’d expected there to be security measures put in place by the portal creator to prevent unwanted intrusions.  He’d searched for the obvious traps—things to maim and kill—but the portal creator had been more subtle than that.

He’d felt the shift in destination and the others being pulled away from him the moment they’d entered the door.  He understood too late.  The countermeasures hadn’t been designed to prevent intruders from entering, but to scatter them and leave them isolated on the other side.  Vulnerable.  Easier to pick off.  It was a subtle redirect hidden within the operations of the portal, but one he would—should—have spotted had he not been in so much of a rush.

Rash.  Stupid.

And now they were all dead.

Or might as well be.  Four novice warlocks, alone with only their daemons for company, in hell.  He didn’t like their chances.

At least he hadn’t been teleported right into the lap of a lust daemon.  He’d materialised in a luxurious bedchamber, thankfully empty.  There was an enchantment on the enormous and inviting bed—presumably to charm the weak-willed into climbing in and staying there until the succubus returned to fuck out their soul.  The charm wasn’t very strong.  Darvill ignored it and sat cross-legged in the centre of the room.  He cleared his mind, focused, and carried out a weaker form of the soul divination ritual they’d used to locate Gary Dever.  This time he was looking for the others as well as Gary.

He felt responsible.

Morally, he knew he should have come alone.  This was too dangerous for novices, even accomplished ones.

Pragmatically, he knew he needed the support of Herbie and the others.  The odds of him being able to do this on his own were far too slim.

Now, through his carelessness, he had the worst of both worlds.  He’d put them all at risk and he was on his own.

He dripped blood into the bowl of water he’d placed in front of him.  A swirl of a finger revealed complex and baroque schematics.  This was a large structure, maybe some kind of castle.  He found Herbie and Joey.  Herbie was about three or four floors up, same as Darvill, but on the far side of the building.  Joey was about two or three or floors below ground level, possibly in some kind of basement or cellar.  Jack took longer to find.  The portal had deposited him some way outside the main building and the little glowing dot indicating his presence was some distance removed from their location.

He found Gary as well.  Maybe.  The signal was blurry and indistinct.  It should have showed up stronger now they were on the same plane.  It was possible there were a lot of other souls in the same area interfering with the divination.  That could be a good thing.  Maybe he was being held with other humans as food for the daemons to consume later.

Later was better than already consumed.

The signal was also close by, maybe a couple of floors above him and over to the north.  Of the four of them, Darvill was the closest.

It wasn’t just about finding Gary.  They also had to find a way back to Earth.

Darvill grimaced as he opened up another cut in his arm and dripped more blood into the bowl.  This time he was looking for the telltale folds and rents in the fabric of reality that indicated the presence of stable portals.

Oh wow, that was complex.  An extra-dimensional system of tunnels and shortcuts was revealed to him.  They permeated through the building like some kind of twisted root system.  It was the central branch Darvill was after.  He didn’t have the power to open any of the sub-branches from this side.  The central branch would be permanently open, though, otherwise the whole portal system would collapse.

And there it was.  Almost right in the centre of the building and not far from Herbie.  Secretly Darvill was relieved it was further away than Gary.  It lessoned the temptation to do the rational thing and head straight for the exit.

The lines in the bowl started to shift and blur.  Darvill’s brow furrowed.  His puzzlement changed to alarm as the lines resolved into the face of a young girl with spiky hair and horns.  Curious, she looked up out of the bowl at Darvill.

He knocked the bowl over, spilling the contents onto the plush carpet and terminating the divination ritual.  That was an unpleasant surprise.  He hadn’t known it was possible to look back through a divination spell and see the castor.

He stood up and rolled his shirt sleeves further up his arms.  Using his knife he carved an anti-lust ward in each forearm.  He assumed the others had carried out the same divination ritual he had.  They would be heading here to find him.  In the meantime he would look for Gary, pull him out if he could, wait for the others if he couldn’t.

It was a plan.  He didn’t like his chances, but at least he had a plan.  All that was left was to execute it and hope the obstacles in the way of that plan were not beyond his ability to overcome them.

* * * *

Part 3 here

Succubus Summoning 209 (part 1)

I didn't get as much editing done on Succubus Summoning 209 over the weekend as I'd have liked.  When it comes to editing I'm a bit of a faffer.  209 is an enormous 10K words, but it does break down nicely into a number of sub-chapters.  As I do tend to faff when it comes to final edits I'd thought I'd put myself under a bit more pressure.  I haven't posted the whole thing to Literotica yet.  I'm going to start posting the sub-chapters here daily (ulp!) and see if I can have regular updates here and have the full Literotica version come out before I post the last part.

(This is going to go so horribly wrong . . .)

209 is a little more plot-heavy.  There is sexy stuff, but it will be near the end.  In the meantime here's Nÿte being utterly terrifying again.

Succubus Summoning 209 (part 1)

Phil felt the same degree of trepidation he always felt when entering Nÿte’s domain.  In contrast to the rest of the succubi’s castle—where the decor was opulent and sensually decadent—Nÿte’s area resembled a dungeon, or the headquarters of a perverse and sadistic Satanic cult.  As he walked down the stone corridors he imagined he could hear the ghostly screams of past torment.

He was here because Nÿte had insisted she be involved with his extra tuition.  Phil was not altogether happy with this.

He paused at the obsidian side entrance to her throne room and gathered up the courage to open the door.  He took a deep breath, walked inside and was about to approach Nÿte’s throne when he realised that—once again—he’d managed to walk in on something else.

Phil glimpsed a large, bulky figure making its way up the central path.  He ducked away out of sight behind one of the many black pillars that lined the central walkway.

Not a warlock this time.  Or even human.  He watched as a corpulent daemon ambled along the path towards where Nÿte sat waiting on her black throne.  It was white-skinned, hairless and wrinkled like a mole, and grossly obese.  Oddly, the face was out of keeping with the rest of the daemon’s grotesque body.  It was handsome in that rugged way that used to be commonplace amongst the leading men of old movies.  Apart from the eyes.  They were vacant and together with a slackness of expression suggested some degree of mental retardation.

It definitely wasn’t human.  A long appendage, like an elephant’s trunk, dangled from its waist.  The organ was white and wrinkled.  It resembled a giant maggot and dragged on the floor between the monster’s legs.  Phil’s felt a shudder of revulsion when he realised it was the daemon’s enormous penis.

The thing walked with a bow-legged gait and as it passed Phil’s hiding spot he saw the reason why.  An enormous pair of hairless testicles, as big as footballs, swung between the daemon’s legs.

Nÿte shifted position.  Her black eyes shone with interest as the daemon approached her throne and went down on one knee in supplication.  Phil’s gorge rose as he realised the daemon was carrying a severed head.  Its meaty paw was wrapped around a twisted rope of ginger hair and the rest of the head hung underneath like a ghastly morning star.  The daemon held up its hand and presented the head to Nÿte as if it was an offering.  Then, its gift delivered, the corpulent daemon stood up and ambled back down the central pathway between the obsidian pillars.  Its gargantuan sex organ dragged between its legs, leaving a glistening trail in its wake.

The succubus examined her gift.  The severed head was closer to a skull.  Most of the soft tissues had already sloughed away.  Nÿte kissed the head on the remnants of its lips and the remaining flesh blackened and disintegrated into fine ash.  Nÿte held aloft the bleached white skull, a cruel smile of triumph on her black lips.

“You can come out now,” she said, not even bothering to turn her head to look at Phil.

He shuffled out from behind the pillar.

Nÿte inhaled a deep breath and closed her eyes.  “I do like the smell of your fear,” she said.  “It will be a pity when we’ve trained you up enough to not be frightened of a minor equuphalloid incubus.”

Phil looked the other way down the path towards where the daemon had exited.  “That was an incubus?” he said.

“A more primal and brutish type, but yes, an incubus.”

“I thought they were supposed to be . . . well . . . sexy,” Phil said.

“Don’t be too hard on our equuphalloid friend,” Nÿte said.  “You didn’t see him at his best.  equuphalloid incubi are prodigiously endowed.  When fully erect they look rather buff.  When not erect . . . well that extra blood has to be stored somewhere, hence our friend’s rather flabby appearance.”

Phil pictured that monstrous cock fully erect and immediately wished he could scrub the image from his brain.

Nÿte laughed at Phil’s disgust.  “The full range of what people find sexy is broad and varied.  The Dominion of Lust caters to all.  Personally I find equuphalloid incubi to be a little too simple-minded and simple-minded beings are so limited in how you can play with them.  Equuphalloid incubi do have their uses though.”

She tilted the bleached skull in her hands, examining it from different angles as if it was a piece of fine art.

Phil’s vision wavered and he thought he saw some kind of shadowy miasma floating around the skull.  It even looked like a . . .

Oh dear fuck.

It was a face.  The mouth was open in a soundless scream of fear and pain.  The soul.  It was the soul of a person, now trapped within the lifeless shell of their skull.

“Oh, you see it,” Nÿte said.  “Good, that means your attunement is growing.”

She tossed the skull aside.  It joined the other skulls heaped around the legs of her throne.

“I wouldn’t shed a tear for that one,” she said.

Phil looked at the pile.  All of the skulls possessed the same shadow image of a face.  They stretched and tugged, but were unable to escape their bone prisons.  Trapped, they screamed in eternal torment.

Nÿte bounced off her throne and ran a long nail along the line of Phil’s jaw.  “I was hoping I might have your skull one day,” she whispered in his ear.

Phil blanched.  He looked at the pile of screaming skulls heaped around Nÿte’s throne.  He saw too that the pile didn’t begin at the floor.  There was a pit dug out beneath the black chair.  He didn’t want to think how deep that pit went or how long the bottommost skull had lain there.

“Oh, I wouldn’t put you there,” Nÿte said.  “That’s for the trash.”

She took his hand and led him to a set of heavy black drapes at the back of the room.  She pulled them aside to reveal an alcove containing a set of shelves.  Each shelf contained a neat row of bleached white skulls.

“I’d make space for you here.”

The shadow faces on these skulls were calmer.  Nÿte plucked a skull from the shelf and passionately kissed its rictus grin.  The shadow-soul face returned the kiss with the same ardour.  It was smiling when Nÿte placed the skull back on the shelf.

“So many,” Nÿte said.  “I do worry I neglect some of them sometimes.”

She drew the drapes back.  Phil wished he could do the same to his memory of that alcove filled with row after row of living skulls.

Nÿte put an arm around Phil’s waist and turned him back towards the exit.

“I really do like the way you smell when you’re terrified.  It gives me the strong urge to ravish you right here and now.”

She gave his waist a squeeze.

“But that will have to wait until later.  There’s the second part of your business to conclude.”

* * * *

Part 2 here

My Donation Button(s)

It's been a fairly quiet month sales-wise.  I suppose I should keep my publisher (okay, writing collective of fellow awesome smut writers) happy and remind people I also write books when not blogging about dubious Japanese hentai games.

I'm lousy at the whole monetization side of things because I'm a stupid big softie and find asking for stuff awkward.  That's why I consider myself a hobbyist writer rather than a pro writer.  It would be nice to be able to go full time because then I'd have an extra 8 hours a day to dream up more bizarre and sexy weird stories.  Maybe one day.  I can dream (of sultry succubi).

Other blogs have adverts and donate buttons.  I hate web adverts because they're usually annoying at best and toxic virus delivery mechanisms at worse.  If you ever see adverts for anything other than my own books here it means I've either been replaced with a soulless automaton, or desperately need to pony up cash for a new kidney.

I thought about adding a donation button then remembered I already have something better:


If you like the sexy fiction/game reviews/other stuff I post here and elsewhere on the internet, and are feeling generous enough to ship a few $ my way to incentivize me to keep on writing sexy (and occasionally (okay, okay frequently) horrific) succubus/monster girl stories, click on one of the covers above and buy one of my books.  It's better than a donate button as you'll get additional stories/chapters that aren't found anywhere else.

If you hate Amazon and refuse to give them money under any circumstances, my books can also be found on Smashwords, or even directly from my publisher, eXcessica.

If you already have all of these books, thanks a lot for the support and I hope you enjoyed them.  You're ahead in my eyes and it's up to me to pull my finger out and write more books to tempt you with.

If you'd like to, but don't have the funds, don't sweat it.  That's how it is sometimes.  I'll keep posting new erotic fiction to places like Literotica for as long as circumstances allow (although $$$ is the best way of making sure adverse circumstances stay the fuck away).

That's enough shameless begging.  Time to get back to writing.  Book #7 (should be Succubus Summoning 201) isn't going to write itself.

Where does Hydra get his inspiration from: part 1 of an infrequent series

Monday was one of those days when a whole bunch of news stories caught my attention and triggered some ideas.

I was going to post this on Monday, but I was out drinking that night and after that in the middle of a blog post on something else that I later abandoned because I realised it was pandering to the holier-than-thou crowd, and as they're a group not exactly known for their intelligence or reading comprehension, it was time I was better off spending on something more worthwhile - like writing more succubus smut.

First off there was the story of the poor drunk lass tricked into giving 24 blokes oral sex in a Magaluf nightclub for a $4 cocktail (she thought she was getting a holiday).  This is fairly extreme behaviour even by the usual standards of drunk Brits abroad.  Sadly for her, some wanker filmed it, uploaded it to the internet, and . . . well you can guess what happened next.

While it's an embarrassing story for the poor lass in the middle of it, I thought that scenario could be flipped around into an interesting succubus story.  A group of drunken lads out on the lash in a Spanish tourist hotspot, and then a ribald and debauched challenge organised by one of the tour guides.  The woman is mysterious and extremely sexy, and she seems eager to give out blowjobs to a whole line of blokes.  Of course she sucks out more than semen and that might be a fun story to write from the perspective of the last bloke in the line as he starts to get a feeling something is wrong . . .

Then I heard about a US artist taking a slum vacation in one of Bangkok's shanty towns and using the resulting shack as an installation piece.  I don't really want to judge the bloke.  It sounds horribly condescending to the people that have to live there day in and day out, but he might have done it with the best of intentions.

Of course, in fiction-world, that sort of character can be painted as the stereotypical rich, condescending asshole more interested in stroking their own ego that helping the plight of those in poverty.  Tasty monster girl chow, in other words.  I have a few ideas for some interesting monster girls, but no protagonist to make it a proper story.  Take exotic locale, throw in annoying artist tourist, ring the dinner bell . . .

And speaking of prime monster girl chow.  This showed up in my facebook feed as a (presumably feminist) friend of a friend posted it with a single comment: "vile".

http://www.returnofkings.com/37273/a-guide-for-getting-laid-at-anime-conventions

Um, yeah.  I don't do the whole outrage or holier-than-thou thing, so we'll describe that one as a little . . . blunt, and leave it at that.

An anime convention has certain advantages as a succubus story location.  As with Halloween or a fancy dress party, the succubus-type character can be placed in the open.  All the other characters will assume she's just a hot girl in a slutty succubus costume (although I may have used the 'protagonist realises it isn't a costume' denouement a few too many times already).  The protagonist presents options.  They can be an out-an-out bastard, in which case it's a straightforward Cosmic Justice tale.  Or I can muddy it up and give them an insecure centre to make them a little more sympathetic (although last time I tried that I muddied it up too much and ended up with a protagonist more sympathetic than I originally intended.)

I also now have the desire to create a 'landwhale' succubus character for the hell of it.  Big, curvy, beautiful, irresistible . . . yum.

For anyone writing their own stories, taking newspaper/online articles and thinking up a possible 'masquerade' explanation for what's happening behind the scenes is a good story-telling exercise.  But avoid the obviously weird ones, because hundreds of other writers will already have gone through the same thought processes and scrawled down the exact same story.

And then there's my highly fucked-up imagination.  I saw this:

(I found it on E-Hentai galleries, bizarrely enough.  The artist is Caroline Jamhour and more of her work can be found here)

. . . and remembered the eyes-as-nipples scene in Ken Russell's Gothic.  I was thinking there wasn't really anything I could do with--

The demon woman has eyes where the nipples should be.  She pushes her boobs into the face of her victim.  The eyes in her breasts eat the eyes of the victim and then take their place.  They send feelers into the brain and the victim sees . . .

Um, thanks imagination.  I guess.

That was one day of the little black cells working on overdrive for new story ideas.

If it sounds vaguely interesting, I can write some more where-did-that-idea-come-from pieces for the stories I've written (assuming I can remember, some are a few years old now).  Let me know in the comments below if there are any you're curious about.

Hentai Game Review - Demon Angel Sakura

Actually, I did a full playthrough of this over the past week, starting here.

They seem most gleeful about this eating you thing

In Demon Angel Sakura you play a dude with pigtails in a dress sent to hell to retrieve a stolen mirror.  The inhabitants of hell are giant monster girls that all want to molest and then eat you (yes, it's a vore game).  Demon Angel Sakura is nominally an action platformer, but that's basically an excuse to string together a bunch of sexy Bad End hentai scenes.  Having a Super Easy difficulty mode means even the most useless (i.e. me) should get to the end and see all the content.

As other people have pointed out, it's kind of short, but that's typical for this type of game.  Or at least used to be until the dedicated-beyond-all-common-business-sense とろとろレジスタンス spoilt us all with the exemplary Monster Girl Quest.  As a game there's not much to it.  It's better to think of it as a series of animated H scenes strung together.

The art style is very cartoony, but on the plus side everything is fully animated.  It's also already translated into English and doesn't require any fiddling with auto-translators to work out what's going on. 

Content-wise there are five different monster girls with the last two having two different ending scenes.  With a bonus NG+ scene on top that gives 10 weird-n-wacky H scenes for your ten bucks.

Whether it's worth those 10 bucks will depend on what you're looking for.  As a game it's very slight.  It's not Eroico or the Paradise Fortress of RePure Aria, and if you're expecting more of a game you're going to feel hard done by.

If you like vore and in particular giantess scenes (and know what I'm talking about if I mention the word Felarya), you'll probably get the most out of this.  On the other hand, even if vore and giantess fetish doesn't float your boat, you can - like me - revel in the kind of warped imagination that came up with these scenes, drew them into a computer and animated them.

I wasn't joking when I said fucked up...

Let's Play Demon Angel Sakura! part 6

And we're still bravely soldiering on through Demon Angel Sakura, our continuing mission to seek out and encounter new boundaries of sexy squick.  Part 1 is here.

First a quick aside.  On a google search for "Angel Demon Sakura" I noticed quite a few hits were being hidden as possible child abuse.  Not sure if it's related to this game.  As far as I'm aware the protagonist is a cartoon representation of a sissified young male adult (emphasis adult) in a giantess setting.  I assume this is the case for all the monster girl/succubus hentai games I look at unless the creator makes a big thing about the protagonist being underage/a child (at which point I leave the game alone).  If you've wandered here because you get turned on by child abuse or get turned on by getting outraged over things you think might be child abuse, I'm afraid this site won't have much to offer you.  We're all about the big-boobed, lascivious succubi here.

With that out of the way, let's continue.

Yesterday poor Sakura ended up being used as sex toy by a randy giant octopus (this should tell you all you need to know before going further).

Skylla is fairly easy to defeat on super Easy Mode as she’s so big I can’t really miss.

She’s also quite friendly after the battle and even helps Sakura out on his quest.

And now for the big twist: the mirror wasn’t stolen recently; it’s been here for yonks.  Big Angel Queen is a liar.  (We probably should have guessed this.  Never trust an angel in a Japanese videogame).

Off to the Palace of the Mirror we go and presumably the final boss.  Slime, Treant and Skylla were all spoiled in the promo pics for the game, but I have no idea what the final boss is.

Oh, it’s you.  Sort of.

Sakura is the classic two-in-one, hence the whole demon angel thing.  The forbidden mirror reveals this and allows the demon half to come out and play.  She grows to giant-size and then it’s a battle against Dark Sakura.

I’m glad I’m on Super Easy mode as it’s quite hard to trigger the Bad Ends for this fight.  Most of the time she blasts me with dark energy and it’s a boring Game Over rather than a filth-filled, fully-fledged Bad End Game Over.

In fact, to even trigger the attacks that bring about Bad End, you have to do enough damage to her for her clothes to come off.  Then the game gets truly demented as she hovers around the temple trying to piss on us.

I’m not a hardcore vore fan and I tend to prefer conventional sexy rather than grossout-comedy-for-sniggers sexy, but I must admit I do have a soft spot for when a creator just flat out goes for it and keeps on going for it until common decency is just a speck on the horizon and we're deep in Sushi Typhoon or A Serbian Film territory.

Dark Sakura has two Bad Ends.  The first is more pandering to the giantess fetish.  She grabs Sakura in some magical spinning prison thing and floats him back to her mouth.  She sucks him off and then swallows him.  After chewing for a bit (no cutaway shot of that, thankfully!) she shrinks back down to normal size and announces she’s Sakura now.

The other ending is Sushi Typhoon to the max.  She wraps her tail around Sakura and uses him as a buttplug.  Headfirst into the ass goes poor Sakura and her tail has a play with him.  That’s not enough for Dark Sakura and so, after making him come a few times, the tail shoves him all the way inside.  Then he gets stuck.  The humiliation isn’t complete as Dark Sakura tries to fart him out (it really is that kind of game) and the scene ends with trapped Sakura wriggling in her ass.

Dark Sakura is the final boss.  After defeating her we get a cut scene where . . . something happens.  Even with the English subtitles I’m not sure what happens.  I think the mirror tries to take her.  Sakura doesn’t want that and so he runs away.  He does something funky with his powers that looks like he’s trying to bash his head between his two fists and this results in Dark Sakura materialising outside his body.  I thought this might be the usual ending for these split personality things where the angel and demon halves end up in different bodies, but no, apparently Sakura is now too demony to go back to heaven.  I’m guessing he exhausted all his divine powers.  Sakura and Sakura walk off into the sunset together (and are probably eaten by the first monster they encounter, him being without powers and all that, silly boy).

Back in heaven, Sakura’s fairy friend gets so sad he hasn’t come back she flies through the portal into hell (and is presumably eaten by the first monster she encounters).

The end.

Oh, but now we must have unlocked that NG+ thing I mentioned in part 1.  A quick restart and there is an option to go away with fairy Kazari.  Maybe this will give poor Sakura a nice end.

Nope.

(Actually, it is sort of sweet in a severely fucked up kind of way.)

I'll finish off with a review thing tomorrow.