And as I'm no longer flying quite by the seat of my pants, I'll see if I can respond to some of the comments on the earlier parts.
* * * *
L’mactia was the arachne that had attacked Phil in the showers at Wargsnouts. She recognised him and also looked surprised to see him there.
Nÿte had her on a leash. It was attached to a black collar L’mactia wore around her pale neck. The collar was the only thing she wore—the rest of her upper body was totally naked. Her skin was unnaturally pale and possessed a bluish tinge that marked her out as a creature more at home in the dark cracks between realities. As with the other succubi, her upper half was as generously proportioned as a typical glamour model—slim at the waist, voluptuous at the chest. She had the high cheekbones and sensual lips of a gothic beauty. Three pairs of red orbs adorned her forehead and temples. They could have been mistaken for body jewellery, but Phil knew they were additional eyes.
What was she doing here?
Surely they didn’t expect him to fight her. Arachnes weren’t an approved summon until at least the fifth year. Later even than succubi.
Nÿte addressed the audience like a circus ringmaster announcing the next act.
“This is the lowly daemon that ambushed Master from the darkness and nearly took his life and soul. We bring her here and present her to him, to deal with as he deems fit.”
Phil didn’t think it was going to work out that way. More likely they’d just given the daemon a second opportunity to finish the job.
Nÿte unhooked the leash and whispered something in the arachne’s ear. Then she opened her great black wings and flew up to the top row of seating to join Verdé and the others.
That left Phil alone in the ring . . . with L’mactia.
“You’re still alive,” L’mactia said. Her blood-red lips curled up in a smile.
Phil watched the spider daemon warily. He tried to remember what he knew about them. They hadn’t been covered in his usual studies, but he remembered seeing them in one of the bestiaries of lust daemons he’d flicked through with Jake.
“What kind of pervert would summon one of them for sex?” Jake had joked as they’d looked at the pictures. It wasn’t the most helpful of memories.
“I thought I’d left you dead for sure,” L’mactia said.
Even though she’d been captured and brought here against her will, she still regarded Phil with amusement, as if he was nothing more than an entertaining little diversion.
She shrugged. “I did warn her that such things were not precise, that it would be better to let me suck and suck until nothing was left of you but a pretty little shell, but she was most insistent on the matter. I did not think much of her, in truth. She was not as skilled as she believed herself to be.”
As she rolled her tongue around suck Phil felt a traitorous throb of interest in his crotch. L’mactia sensed it too. Her full lips came together in a seductive pout.
“I think you want me to take another suck,” she teased.
She tensed as if about to pounce and Phil instinctively jumped backwards, almost losing his balance in the process.
L’mactia laughed. “So skittish. I know your cock wants it. It wants to be buried in my softest, wettest silk while my abdomen sucks and sucks and sucks.”
Her bloated black abdomen pulsed obscenely. Sticky white liquid dripped from the tip and puddled on the floor.
Phil’s traitorous penis bulged out in an erection. It remembered and wanted more. Phil tried to push the distraction out of his mind.
L’mactia sensed the conflict and laughed.
“Mmm, let me prepare some really soft silk for you. She sucked on a finger while her abdomen throbbed with lewd intent.
Phil threw a fireball at her.
L’mactia formed a circular shield of energy and swatted the fireball away.
“Feisty.” She smiled.
Phil just about had time to summon an anti-daemon shield before L’mactia was on him. Or rather, all over him. Or at least would have been if it hadn’t been for his shield. She wrapped her long black legs around it and reared up over him. He felt the pressure of her body around his protective sphere transmuted to an invisible force pressing down on his skull.
“I don’t know what they thought they were achieving by bringing me here,” L’mactia said. “You’re barely a novice. This shield is about as useful as a soap bubble.”
She placed a hand flat against Phil’s protective sphere.
“Dakshel exnida tanja vaarsta Magique.”
Phil’s shield dissipated as L’mactia dismissed it. At the same time the tip of her bulbous abdomen flicked forwards and sprayed a thin stream of fine silk. Her webbing found the gap in Phil’s robes and adhered to his crotch and inner thighs.
He really needed to steal a pair of underpants.
L’mactia flexed her abdomen back and Phil was yanked off his feet. She dragged him beneath her body. He looked up between the half-moon globes of her pendulous breasts and saw her smile triumphantly.
“There will be no revenge for you today,” she said.
Her abdomen quivered obscenely before spitting out a thick glob of webbing that glued Phil to the floor.
“Or maybe that was never the intention,” L’mactia said. “Maybe you enjoyed the taste of my silky pleasures so much you wanted more.”
She reached back and rubbed her slowly throbbing abdomen.
“Very well, I’ll give you some of my special silk.”
Phil heard a lewd sound like thick cream bubbling out of a nozzle. He felt a warm substance envelop his erection. He felt his penis jerk as the spider daemon bobbed her abdomen up and down. She manipulated Phil’s cock with threads of silk like a master puppeteer, causing a surge of blood and pleasure to rush to his crotch. He tried to think of a way to escape this predicament, but L’mactia’s expert tugs kept breaking his concentration until his breath became ragged and exited his mouth in low pants.
“This time there are no special clauses,” L’mactia. “No interruptions to disturb our pleasure.”
Her abdomen dropped lower. Two chitinous plates at the front of her body—where her human half met her arachnid half, and where the vagina would be on a normal woman—slid open and her labia, puffy and swollen, emerged. The strong musk of her arousal flowed out and covered Phil’s face like a smothering pillow.
“My kind’s reputation for cruelty is undeserved,” L’mactia said. “Your end will be a sweet one. I’ll bury your face in my luscious pussy while I drain you.”
The wet silk entwined around Phil’s cock changed, became a tube of pulsing dark energy. It stroked up and down his erection, gently coaxing his own energy out. Phil shivered as unearthly pleasures pulled at him. All the tension had fled his body. He felt like he was floating on a bubble.
Overhead he watched Verdé fly through a sky the colour of aroused flesh. Her wings flapped, carrying her away from the arena. Phil didn’t blame her. He hadn’t put up much of a fight.
Oh dear. That didn't go too well for our novice warlock.
Part 6 here