H-space MGB Story: Succubus Cloud

Major General Stewart Peter Bate was in that hinterland between sleep and wakefulness when the succubus cloud drifted into his tent.  He took her for a dream.  A nice dream.

Her gaseous form coalesced into a fluffy white cloud floating above his camp bed.  A pale white face appeared in the midst of it.  While clearly a beautiful face, with large, exotic eyes and delicate, high cheekbones, in some respects it was also a cruel face.  The angles and contours of her elegant face were impossibly perfect, but also sharp.  There was little warmth to her aside from a pair of sensual bee-stung lips that were as red as freshly-spilled blood.

Drowsily, Bate watched those luscious lips pucker up and exhale perfumed smoke into his face.  That was nice.  Smelt nice too.  It reminded him of a fancy perfume a classy-looking lady had worn at one of the fancier functions he'd attended with the top brass.  He never did get her name.

"This is a nice dream," Bate murmured sleepily.

The floating woman exhaled another cloud of perfumed smoke into his face.

"Yes, sleep," the succubus cloud said.

There was a strange echo to her voice, as though Bate was hearing her both through his ears and directly in his mind at the same time.

"I'll give you pleasant dreams."

Bate closed his eyes.

Wait, this was already a dream.  How could he fall asleep if he was already asleep and dreaming?  Was it possible to dream within a dream?

The succubus cloud gave an erotic sigh.  She blew more air in his face.

"Delicious wet dreams."  She spoke as though one of her hands—her fingers—were already in her sex.

Wet dream was about the right of it.  They happened whenever a man spent too long away from home, hearth and wife.

Bate hadn't even been away that long.  It was something about the air of H-space—some kind of taint that slithered down to a man's balls and made them itch.

Pale white hands emerged from the cloud floating above Bate.  One hand caressed the side of his face.  The other took hold of the top flap of his sleeping bag and peeled it aside.

Bate didn't mind.  When a man was away from home and stationed out in desolate country, a nice erotic dream was one of the few pleasures open to him.

The succubus cloud blew on Bate's exposed chest.  Her breath tickled through his chest hairs and kissed his nipples.  Her face—and those luscious lips—moved down.  Her warm breath filled and overflowed out of his navel.  Her hands fondled first his chest and then his abs.

"So firm," the succubus cloud flattered.

That brought a smile to Bate's lips.  He might be past his prime, but he knew he was still in good shape.

She peeled more of his sleeping bag away.  She blew on his crotch and he felt the tickle of her breath through the fabric of his underwear.  His manhood swelled up and made a miniature tent.  The succubus hooked fingers beneath the elastic and freed Bate's erection.  He let her.  This was supposed to happen in erotic wet dreams.

The succubus cloud cooed her appreciation as his manhood rose up unfettered.  She puckered those moist red lips again and blew.  Her warm breath spilled down his erection and tickled through the hairs on his testicles like many tiny fingers.  She blew again and Bate's cock danced for her.  It twitched and bobbed through the stream of warm air like a salmon swimming upstream to spawn.

Her head moved back up Bate's body.  He felt her breaths tickle his chest and neck like soft kisses.  Legs emerged from the cloud and he felt her inner thighs squeeze and rub against his outer thighs.  Her arms slid underneath him and her hands roamed all over his back.  The rest of her didn't seem to be there.  He felt air whisper against his skin, but nothing tangible—no breasts, no midriff, no sex.

The whispering breaths were all around him.  His camp bed and sleeping bag fell away as he was lifted up.  Now he was floating... floating in the center of a warm, fluffy cloud.

It didn't feel weird at all.

It was a dream.

Dreams were supposed to be weird.

"I will give you wet, delicious pleasures," the succubus cloud said, "but I need to take a little something from you first.  It won't hurt at all."

Bate felt an odd prickly sensation all over his body.  It felt a little bit like being bitten by a blood-sucking insect, but with none of the irritating itchiness that followed such bites.  It was followed by an equally odd drawing sensation.  Bate wasn't bothered.  Floating up here in the cloud with a beautiful dream girl whispering sweet nothings to him, he didn't have a care in the world.  It was like he was wrapped up in warm cotton wool.

The drifting cloud started to change color.  A pink tinge permeated through the billowing smoke.  At first it was a delicate coloration, reminiscent of candy floss, but then it darkened and took on a reddish hue.  At the same time the constitution of the cloud thickened from fluffy and insubstantial to tangible and strangely wet looking.

"Are you relaxed and comfortable," the dream girl asked.

Bate nodded his head.  He felt relaxed and floppy.  Maybe a little too floppy... weak even.  No, it was more like being cocooned in a big duvet and feeling so comfortable that you didn't want to move the slightest muscle.

On top of the weakness, Bate also felt a little lightheaded, giddy even.  That wasn't bad either.  It was like being in a bar with a beautiful woman after a few drinks.

"You gave me so much," the succubus cloud said.  "Now let me reward you with sensual pleasures.  Let's fuck."

"Yes, let's screw," Bate murmured dreamily.

After all, what was the point of an erotic dream if you didn't get a little wet and sticky.

Although, when he thought about it, the cloud he floated in was already starting to feel a little moist and tacky.

Then the succubus cloud began, and Bate stopped thinking about other things.  His erection was drawn up and sheathed within a warm something.  It felt like he'd entered a warm vagina and the sensation was so vivid it was like the dream had brought forth recollections of sex with his gorgeous wife.  Except, Patricia, his lovely wife waiting for him back home, had never felt as tight as this, not even in their youthful days when both had been in the throes of young love.

Ohh.

And she'd never been able to do this.

As the wet sheath slid up and down it throbbed and pumped his member.  The dream girl pouted and cooed her pleasure.  Her hands caressed the side of Bate's face and stroked up and down his sides.  Her thighs squeezed and rubbed against him.  The throbbing sensations diffused out into the cloud until it felt as though the whole cocoon was pulsating around Bate.

Hunger and other lusts glittered in the dream girl's eyes.

"Release yourself into me," she hissed between glossy red lips.

The cloud pulsed and a wave of pressure stroked up Bate's erection.  This dream was so intense.  It was going all the way.  It was going to be wet.

Bate closed his eyes and let out a moan of pleasure.  His erection throbbed to the same rhythm as the cloud.  A thick column of semen bubbled up his shaft and fountained up into the cloud, where it was absorbed.

The composition of the cloud changed again.  The red tinge lightened back to pink, but the cloud appeared to be getting thicker, wetter and stickier.  It clung to Bate's body like a sleeping bag made of flesh.

"More," her red lips whispered.

It felt like a soft wet sponge had engulfed Bate's cock.  The sponge squeezed and Bate responded with another shuddering orgasm.  Again?  Or was this the same ejaculation?  Did it even matter when emptying his balls out into the smothering sponge of the cloud felt so good?

Muscles twinged in his groin.

That mattered.  He was no longer a young man and this might be a little too much exertion.  What had brought on this dream?  Why was it so intense?

The clouds enveloping him were no longer quite so fluffy.  They glistened wetly—a mixture of pinks, reds and whites—and resembled organic things that pulsed in dark nooks and crannies out of reach of the light.  Bate tried to move his limbs and encountered resistance.

His brow furrowed.  Was this even a dream?

The succubus cloud bunched up her bee-stung lips and exhaled a cloud of pungent perfumed smoke into Bate's face.

"Relax.  Sleep.  Dream nice dreams while I empty you."

Bate's eyes closed.  His thoughts spiraled down into a deep dream state.  He was in a playground of ephemeral soap bubbles and deep, soft pillows.  With him was a veritable harem of ripe, nubile and willing female flesh.  Here was every female body he'd ever lusted after, secretly or otherwise.  There was his wife—naked and in the prime of her youth; her friend Bate had never told her about; a girl he'd seen naked on a beach one time while he'd been stationed out in the Pacific; actresses and models that had pouted out at him from the cover of magazines; even porn stars from the blue movies Bate had watched after being stationed away from home for too long.  All were here.  All were his.

He lay back and let each take a turn to ride his mighty erection.  They bounced on his prodigious length and girth until he'd filled their bellies with his seed.  It didn't matter how many or how long.  In this dream Bate was indefatigable.  His manhood was an unyielding stone column; his balls were a bottomless reservoir.

As one girl after another rode him to ecstatic fireworks, Bate decided he had to be in heaven.  This dream was so perfect he wished he never had to wake up from it.

The succubus cloud granted his wish.

* * * *

1st Lt Stewart Peter Bate was woken by a cry.  He recognized it as a cry of passion and his sleep-fogged mind wondered who'd gotten lucky.

Then he remembered where he was and how there was no one here to get lucky with.  His eyes flicked open and he hit full wakefulness.

He heard a thump, like someone falling over.

Was that the Major General's tent?

Bate left his own tent.  H-space didn't really have a day-night cycle.  Sometimes it was light, sometimes it was dark.  Currently it was dark.

In the gloom Bate thought for a moment he saw something—a cloud of white smoke?—slither out from between the open flaps of the Major General's tent.  He poked his head through the entrance and what he saw on the other side horrified him.

It was the Major General.  At least Bate thought it was.  The figure slumped on the camp bed was naked and so shriveled up he looked as though he had aged a century overnight.  Black dots, like miniature tattoos, covered the body in a strange pattern.

No, it wasn't a body.  Major General Tom McCarrell was still alive.

Clouded-over eyes opened and stared up at a scene only McCarrell could see.  Bloodless, withered lips turned up in a senile smile.

"Next," the Major General chuckled in a voice that sounded like wind through a dry old tunnel.

The voice became a sigh and then finally a rattle as McCarrell's eyes rolled up, his body shuddered and then was still.  A little bead of milky-white fluid welled up from the tip of McCarrell's exposed and erect penis.



So that's how they got the Major General.

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...

H-space MGB Profile: Anophelena

Name:  Anophelena (cn: Mosquito Girl)
Type:  Insect
Habitat:  Swamp.  Marshland.

Description:
Looks like an attractive human woman crossed with a giant mosquito.  This hybridisation manifests as the presence of antennae, wings, a long cylindrical abdomen extending from their rump, and an additional pair of arms.  Unlike the primary pair, the secondary pair of arms are not recognisably human, being spindly, black and closer in appearance to an insect limb, albeit on a considerably larger scale.

Despite being human-sized, their wings are capable of generating enough lift to enable them to fly.  As with Earth mosquitos, they possess a comb like organ that rubs against the wings to generate a constant buzzing sound.  At high volume these sounds have a disorienting effect on most humans.  At low volume the anophelena are able to shape these sounds into a facsimile of human speech in order to communicate with us.  Without this they would not be able to talk at all as their mouths, despite outwardly appearing human, hide a long retractable proboscis the anophelena uses to feed with.

Attack Strategy:
Anophelena are fragile and not evolved for direct combat.  Their wings give them some manoeuvrability, but they are not particularly fast fliers, preferring instead to skim close to the ground.  Their preferred strategy is to use the loud buzzing of their wings to disorient their target while they sneak up on them.  Once close enough, the anophelena jabs her proboscis into the target's flesh and injects a strong narcotic to render them unconscious.

The anophelena then carries her prey off to a safe location and ties them down so she can feed unhindered and at her leisure.  She can feed on blood, but for some reason, as with other H-space indigenous organisms, they prefer to get their prey aroused sexually and drink their sexual fluids.  In this case the anophelena inserts her proboscis into the urethra of her captive and sucks out semen directly from the base of the penis.  This urethral insertion combined with the suction of her proboscis triggers a strong, continuous ejaculatory response in most males.

While their captive is helplessly climaxing, the anophelena starts to suck up her captive's other bodily fluids.  She has multiple sacs in her breasts and abdomen to contain her victim's fluids and they are capable of generating enough suction to empty a full-grown man of all his fluids in a very short space of time.

Countermeasures:
Ear plugs are unfortunately not as effective at cutting out the anophelena's disorienting buzzing as would be hoped as the vibrations are transmitted directly through the skull.  While anophelena are extremely manoeuvrable, especially in the difficult, marshy terrain they're often encountered in, they're also fragile, with the wings a weak point.

If forced to engage in close combat be wary of the anophelena's proboscis.  The narcotic it injects is potent and will induce unconsciousness within moments of entering the bloodstream.

Threat Level:
Low, unless encountered as part of a larger swarm.

H-space MGB Story: Anophelena

SPC Stewart Peter Bate was hot, sticky and seriously pissed off.  This stinking swamp, a morass of twisting vegetation, extended as far as he could see in all directions.

He was pissed off at the government for posting him out to this shithole.  He was pissed off at his commanding officers for scheduling him the shitty grunt work that facilitated his requirement to be in this shithole.  Bate had been to college.  He had a degree.  He was supposed to enter the forces at a level higher than grunt.  Couldn't they have found some uneducated Louisiana coonasses to do this?  Heck, they'd probably feel right at home.

This was a boardwalk to make inroads into this swampy region.  Vehicles weren't reliable because of the weird physics of H-space, so one of the bright young officers had come up with the idea of using bicycles to courier messages between the various outposts.

More than the government and his COs, Bate was pissed off at himself for making the rookie mistake of getting turned around and lost like some moron greenhorn out in the wilds for the first time.

However, none of these things pissed him off as much as the constant high-pitched whine he kept hearing in his ears.  It was like being in bed at night and unable to sleep because you could hear a mosquito buzzing around and knew you had to swat that bloodsucker otherwise you'd wake up covered in itchy bites.  This was that times ten.

Reflexively, Bate flailed a hand through the air in the vicinity of his ear.  He was sure a goddamned skeeter was trying to dive-bomb him.  That sound had been driving him nuts all day.  He had no idea what was causing it.  Sometimes he caught flickers of movement out of the corner of his eye but when he turned all he saw was more twisted branches and sweating vegetation.

He blamed that buzzing whine for causing him to get lost.  He'd been too busy thinking about how it was bugging the hell out of him he hadn't paid close enough attention to where he was walking.

Now the light was fading and he was no closer to finding his way back to the path.  The buzzing whine didn't help.  If only it would stop for one goddamned minute to allow him to fucking clear his head and think.

Bate caught more movement on the periphery of his vision.  This time he turned fast enough to see a human-sized shape slip behind a tangled knot of tainted plant life.

Bate was irritated enough to consider spraying bullets around him in a circle until the maddening sound stopped.  He didn't because the only man-sized shapes out here were his fellow grunts.

"Hey, quit fucking around," he called out.

He chased after the shape.  He rounded the bush in time to see the figure drift into a dense patch of fetid reeds.

Strange.  He knew it had to be one of the guys yanking his chain, but before the figure had moved out of view he would have sworn he saw a pair of naked feet floating above the brackish puddles, like their owner was being carried or even floating just above the ground.

No.  It had to be one of the guys—those assholes—screwing with him.

He reached the reed patch, or some alien equivalent.  The plants looked like head-high bulrushes topped with lurid purple dildos.  Whichever asshole was yanking his chain had gone in there.  Bate bet it was Murata.  Fucker was probably crouched down with his hand over his mouth, trying not to laugh.  Bate was going to beat his skinny ass.  He took a step in...

...and fell flat on his face.

The ground was not solid here.  Bate had taken a step forward and his foot had come down on a mixture of water and mud that might as well have been empty air.

Fuck.  Now he was lost, covered in mud and soaked through to the skin.

Worst of all, he could still hear that fucking stupid buzzing whine!

It seemed to be getting louder, and coming from behind him.  In the moment Bate became aware it wasn't in his head, that there was something coming up behind him, it was already too late.  He felt a sharp, jabbing sensation in his left buttock and everything went black.

Bate woke to find himself lying on some kind of small, bent-over tree with his wrists and ankles lashed to the branches with ropes made out of fibrous green reeds.  He was naked and tied in a position that made it look as though he was sitting in stirrups and waiting for a gynecological examination.

Worst of all, Bate could still hear that goddamn buzzing!  It was louder than before and felt like a blunt chainsaw grinding against the inside of his skull.

He pulled at his bonds without any success.  He was stuck and completely at the mercy of... who?

The buzzing sounds in his skull started to resolve into voices.

"Is he to your liking?"

"Yes, he is perfect.  You have done well."

Bate's eyes accustomed enough to the gloomy half-light to see there were shapes moving around him.  In size and shape they resembled human beings—naked women to be exact—but their movements weren't right.  They floated with their arms and legs hanging limply down as though they were suspended on a meathook.  Closer inspection revealed both their support and the source of the buzzing sounds that had been driving Bate crazy all day.  Each had a large pair of transparent insect wings emerging from between their shoulder blades.  These were not their only insect feature—Bate saw each had a long cylindrical abdomen extending behind their drifting legs.

Hindigs, Bate thought.

They were mutants—or aliens—that possessed a mix of human and nonhuman parts.  Bate had heard of them, although this was the first time he'd encountered any.

One of the insect girls drifted over to him.  It was as he'd heard—she was a strange mix of sexy and fucking weird.  She had a lovely, exotically beautiful face with wide bright eyes.  She also possessed an equally lovely pair of curvaceous breasts that happened to be completely uncovered.  If it hadn't been for the color of her skin—Goth-pale, bordering on white—her bust and face wouldn't have looked out of place on the pages of a nudie magazine.  Hell, give her some tats and she'd be perfect for the alt skin mags and websites the weirder kids liked.

Bate suspected even those weirdos would have baulked at her other features.  There was plenty of insect mixed in with the glamour-model curves.  A long pair of antennae grew out of and drooped down from her temples.  Chitinous black plates covered most of her back and wrapped around to cover parts of her chest and midriff.  She also possessed an additional pair of insect arms beneath her regular human arms.  They were spindly, black, jointed and terminated in small, three-fingered hands.  This was before you even got to the wings whirring away or the long cylindrical abdomen growing out of her butt he thankfully couldn't see from this angle.

"How are you?" she said.

Said wasn't the right word.  Her full red lips were bunched up in a sexy pout and never moved.  He heard her words as if they'd been buzzed directly into his brain.

"What do you want?" Bate demanded.

The insect girl wrapped a warm hand around his flaccid member.  "This."

Fucking nympho hindig.  He'd heard they were supposedly obsessed with sex, although the stories Bate had heard had ranged from lewd bragging to dead-eyed horror.  Hindigs could fuck your brains out in both the figurative and literal sense.  Given that Bate was securely tied up and completely at her mercy, he hoped it was the former rather than the latter.

No, fuck that.  No way was he sticking his dick in some alien insect bitc... ooh!

She crouched down between his legs.  One hand slithered all over and pumped his cock while her other hand gently fondled and massaged his balls.  The scientists claimed they were the first humans to set foot in this dimension.  Well, if that was the case, there must be some male bugs buzzing around with similar plumbing because this girl had picked up plenty of practice.

She worked his junk like a pro and he felt a warm pleasurable feeling envelop his loins as his cock swelled up in an erection.  Her jet-black eyes fixed on his as her nimble fingers slithered, twisted, squeezed and pumped in ways that had Bate hard and throbbing.

"I want to give you a good hard suck," she said.

Again the words were buzzed right in Bate's skull without her moving her lips.  They remained bunched up in an alluring pout.  Bate imagined those luscious red lips wrapped around his manhood and his erection flexed even harder.

She moved close enough for her bulging titties to brush against his twitching shaft.

Bate wouldn't mind slipping it between those puppies either.

Aw fuck it.  There wasn't anything he could do to stop it, so he might as well enjoy it.

"Take your best suck," he said.

Lips still pursed together in a seductive pout, she placed hands on her breasts and sandwiched Bate's cock between them.  She rubbed her soft mammaries against him and tilted her face—and those lush, moist lips—down towards his lap.

Titwank plus blowjob, there were worse ways to be treated as a prisoner, Bate thought.

He noticed there was something in her mouth—something slender and black that tapered to a point.  It looked like she was sucking on a black straw with a pointed tip that was so short it only just poked out of the plush ring of her red lips.  Then it poked out more and extended...

...and extended...

...until a black spike a foot long had emerged from between her lips.

Bate understood now why she didn't talk through her mouth.  Beneath those luscious red lips her mouthparts were all insect.  This was her proboscis and Bate was uncomfortably aware the pointed tip was focused right on the swollen red head of his cock as though someone had slapped a big bright bullseye on it.

He squirmed ineffectually against his bonds.

The mosquito girl gripped his balls and gave them a squeeze that wasn't painful, but clearly hinted that it could be.

"Be still," she said.  "This won't hurt."

Bate stopped squirming.  The mosquito girl wrapped a hand around his shaft and held his cock in place while her proboscis descended.  He couldn't look away and could only watch in horror as the tip of the slender black tube went into his urethral opening and slid smoothly into his cock.  He kept expecting burning pain, but there was nothing more than a weird sensation of fullness.

"I like to suck right from the source," she said.  "Don't worry, you'll still feel the same pleasure... maybe more."

She plumped her tits against his cock.  The sensations of her warm soft flesh pressing against him on the outside and squeezing him up against the smooth rod inserted down the center of his cock had him trembling in pleasure.  Her cheeks became concave and she sucked.  Bate's pleasures peaked in one bone-rattling explosion of euphoria.  The strange thing was that the orgasm didn't go anywhere.  His cock throbbed around her proboscis, but he wasn't able to push it out of his body or ejaculate past it.  His climax fell back on itself and the backwash concentrated in his loins as a warm glow.  He also felt a strange drawing sensation and realized it was the mosquito girl sucking his semen up her proboscis.  It was a pleasant tickly sensation inside him that sent an equally pleasant tingly static-like sensation across his skin.

"That was some suck," Bate said.

A post-orgasmic feeling of euphoria washed over him.  He forgot about being tied down.  He forgot about the proboscis inserted into his cock.  Okay, it wasn't so much forget as didn't care.  After all, it could have been a lot worse.

"Why, I've barely begun to suck," the woman said.

That tickly sensation wormed deeper into Bate and coiled around his testicles and prostate.  Her cheeks sank in.  She plumped her tits up against Bate's erection and took another suck.

It triggered another detonation of pleasure in Bate's crotch.  He moaned at the intensity of it and thrashed his head from side to side.  The mosquito girl sucked and sucked and that tickly drawing sensation intensified and triggered secondary explosions of bliss.

The drawing sensation grew more powerful and Bate felt her bountiful breasts pulse around his shaft.  He looked down at her perfect pink swollen spheres.  They slowly pulsed with the same rhythm as the jerking sucks tugging on Bate's whole body.  And swelled.  Bate was wedged deep within her cleavage and he felt the softness of her expanding boobs pressing all around him.  Only the tip of his cock was visible now as it poked up out of the top.  It was linked to her moist red lips by the slender black tube of her proboscis.  As her cheeks worked back and forth and her boobs pulsed like twin hearts he heard the sound of his fluids rushing up the inside of her feeding tube.

Then another orgasm burst within him and Bate's head tipped back.  That was strong.  So strong.  It blasted through him and kept blasting and left him as weak and floppy as a rag doll.  She kept sucking, kept drawing, and Bate kept trembling like he was spunking a never-ending stream of cum.

"More?" she buzzed playfully in his mind.

She didn't wait for an answer.  This time the great chambers in her abdomen opened up and expanded.  She sucked.

Bate let loose a gargling cry of pleasure that collapsed into a dry rattle as his body shrank in on itself and withered into a wizened husk as the anophelena sucked out all his fluids.  Contentedly full, she withdrew her proboscis from his cock and retracted it back behind her luscious red pout.  Then, heavy with Bate's fluids and soul, she languidly buzzed away across the reeds and brackish water.

Updates and a St Patrick's Day Sales Promotion on All Romance Ebooks

Yes, yes, there should be a Succubus Summoning 212, part 3 here, I know.  I knew that chapter was going to be a swine to write and likely slide around the weekly schedule until I got on top of it.  The next part has some interesting revelations and a bunch of exposition that was tricky to write.  My first draft didn't exactly nail it, which meant the typing up part was a little slower and more painful than normal.

There should be a new part out this week.  It's about 500 words and a decent edit away.  I was going to put it out tomorrow and shift the usual H-space slots back, but what I'll do instead is post the H-space MGB pieces in their usual slots (as they're already done) and bump SS212, pt3 to Saturday.  That'll give me a chance to triple-check I haven't borked the exposition passages.

In other news, it's St Patrick's Day tomorrow, so it would be rather remiss of me not to remind you of the appropriately themed collection of short stories I put out this time last year:

I liked the cover on this one, but for some reason the book didn't come out the gate with similar sales as the other collections.  One of those things, I guess.  Anyway, if you missed it the first time around, there are thirteen stories waiting for you to read, some of them brand new and appearing only within this book.

The other reason to mention St Patrick's Day is because my publisher, Excessica, has let me know they're part of a St Patrick's Day sale on All Romance Ebooks.  For that day Excessica's entire catalogue of books will be 25% off on All Romance Ebooks.  So, if you've found me recently through my stories/reputation and would like to see what my published work is like, tomorrow is a good time to pick up my previous books at a discount.

My books can be found on All Romance Ebooks here.

Also, here are the other books Excessica offers.  Give them a look and see if any take your fancy.

ETA:  Hmm.  Okay those links don't quite go to where I was hoping.  They're still easy to find.  Author -> M. E. Hydra in the top right search box on the page will take you to my books and Publisher -> Excessica Publishing will do the same for my publisher.

Further Update: The links now go to the correct places.  Thanks for the fix suggestion in the comments, Anon.

H-space MGB Profile: Venus Mantrap

Name:  Venus Mantrap
Type:  Plant (or possibly something else—mollusc?—masquerading as a plant)
Habitat:  Jungle.  Dense Vegetation.

Description:
Resembles a single trap of a Venus flytrap, but on a considerably larger scale.  The humanoid part, which nearly always takes the form of a beautiful naked woman, resides between the leaves and is connected to the rest of the plant via a fibrous membrane running down the spine.  Catapult muscles connecting the humanoid portion to the leaf walls allow the plant to cast her out from between the leaves in order to attract and catch prey.

While the outside of the leaves is extremely hard, the inside is soft and padded and feels like flesh.

Attack Strategy:
Her humanoid part functions as both a lure and centre of intelligence for the organism.  She is part of a muscular apparatus that can be projected outside of the leaves in order to capture prey.  Captured men (and sometimes women) are pulled back between the leaves, which then close around them.

Once her prey is caught between her padded leaves the Venus mantrap will strip them, wrap her arms and legs around them, and then get them aroused enough to have sex with her.  This is aided by various aromatic and aphrodisiac oils secreted through her skin.

She stimulates her captive to multiple climaxes and then, after no more sexual fluids can be drawn from their body, she disgorges a stew of various enzymes over them.  The primary component is a digestive enzyme to liquefy flesh and soft tissues.  Mercifully, this digestive fluid also contains substances with both strong analgesic and aphrodisiac properties.  This instils a state of heightened sensual bliss in the victim so that they are unaware of what's happening to them.

(Why?  Why care?  Why not just catch and digest?  The one specimen we were able to interrogate said it was important that they take their prey to the pinnacle of sexual ecstasy and keep them there as they begin to digest them, but why, why, why?)

Once digestion is done the Venus mantrap will open her leaves and use the catapult muscles to fling the indigestible material such as bones far from the main plant.

Countermeasures:
The Venus mantrap, being a plant*, is stationary.  She can only capture prey that stray within a narrow arc that extends from the trap opening to a distance approximately equal to the depth of the mantrap.  As long as you stay outside of that arc, the mantrap can't grab you.

*(Maybe, I'm not convinced on this.  The outer shell and inner flesh seem to be more in keeping with some kind of enormous shellfish.  Mimicry?)

Should one of your party be caught and brought between the leaves then I'm afraid the prognosis is not good.  It would take heavy earth-moving machinery to prise the leaves (shell?) open, heavy earth-moving machinery which we do not currently have access to.  The outer surface is impervious to all but high explosives, and using them would likely kill her captive in the process.

The soft interior is vulnerable, but if the Venus mantrap perceives herself to be under threat she will simply retreat between and close her leaves.

Avoidance is the best strategy here.  Be vigilant and don't step into her capture arc.

Threat Level:
Low**

**upgraded to Moderate.  Our men are still straying into her capture arc even when forewarned.  There might be an additional pheromonal or similar component to the lure that is drawing people in despite the warnings.

H-space MGB Story: Venus Mantrap

PFC Stewart Peter Bate would have given the giant flytrap leaves a wide berth had he not heard noises coming from between them.

"Hello?  Is there someone in there?"

What were those sounds?  Bate heard soft moans and sighs.  They were more like sounds of sexual activity than moans of pain.  It reminded him of a hotel room he'd stopped in once, where he'd heard muffled sounds coming through the wall and had wondered if the sounds were coming from the next room's TV or its occupants.  And, just like that time back in the hotel room, Bate felt a burning curiosity to see what was making those noises.

The leaf was green and enormous.  It was about the same height as a two-story house and about the same length as an average garage.  It was roughly semi-circular in shape, with a fringe of green spines pointing inwards towards an identical leaf just behind the first.  It reminded Bate of a Venus flytrap, but on a vastly larger scale.  Bate wondered what flying prey this plant caught—helicopters?

The giant leaves did not look out of place.  The jungle was full of alien vegetation because it was well... alien.  It was also hot... and humid as hell.  The sweat poured off Bate.  It soaked into his uniform and collected in his underwear.  Bate wanted to give his balls and ass a good scratch, but he knew the itch would only get worse when he stopped.

He heard the noises again—soft slithering sounds punctuated with muffled sighs.

And now Bate's junk was itching for a different reason.

He rubbed a hand across his brow.  Maybe it was something in the air.  The whole damn jungle felt like it was bursting with fecundity.  Strangely, they'd seen no sign of any animal life since entering it—no birds, no monkeys, not even any insects.  Just plants, lots and lots of plants.

Gingerly, Bate touched the side of the flytrap leaf.  It was hard... shell-like.  Metal-like, even.  It was like putting his hand on the hull of a battleship.  He could still hear those muffled, strangely erotic sounds coming from the other side.

He had to know what was making those sounds.

He walked around to look at the leaves edge on.  At this angle it really did look like the entrance to a Venus flytrap.  The leaves were padded on the inside and livid red in color.  Green spines bridged the gap like bars.  Between the two leaves was darkness.  It was within that darkness the noises were coming from.

The leaves shimmered in the jungle haze.  For a brief moment Bate thought he was staring at a gigantic vulva.

It was easy for Bate to investigate.  All he needed to do was duck under one of those teeth-like tines.

Yeah right, like he was that fucking stupid.  No way was he stepping between those jaws.  Not even if the hottest starlet in Hollywood was getting herself off at the far end.  In fact, he was already standing a little too close to them than was comfortable.  He knew Venus flytraps on Earth were passive, but that was Earth and this was not Earth.  For all he knew those jaws might snap up anything straying too close like a turtle snapping up a frog.

He backed away to the far side of the clearing.  His eyes narrowed as he tried to pierce the shade between the two monstrous leaves.

There was someone or something in there, he was sure of it.  Bate took out an electric torch, switched it on and shone it between the flytrap leaves.

He was too far back.  The torch light didn't penetrate the gloom very far.  Wait, there was something back there.  He caught a glimpse of pink skin... a leg, an arm.

Attracted by the light, the something got up and walked to the edge of the leaves.  Bate saw it was a woman.  At first he thought she was naked, but on closer inspection her skin didn't look right.  The color was bordering on the unnatural and she looked a little too... moist.  It looked like she was wearing a second skin over her own that was too loose for her body.  Or she'd been rolling around in wet pink mud.

She smiled at Bate and posed for him on the other side of the green bars like a hooker trying to lure in a john.  And to be fair to her, she had the moves.  Her breasts were large and lovably squishable.  The rest of her had all the curves while still being slim enough to tick all the boxes.  Her movements were a slow, sensual belly dance that heated Bate's blood up more than the sweltering jungle around him.

She beckoned to Bate and urged him to come to her.  There was no doubt what she wanted from him, and even if there was, she made it more than clear in the way her other finger was trailing between the exposed labia of her pussy.

The leaves started to pull apart like great iron gates opening.  The maybe-naked girl threw her arms out to Bate as if imploring him to charge across the clearing and gather her up in his arms.

Bate was sorely tempted.  She had a really sexy bod, and he was between girlfriends so he didn't have to worry about cheating on anyone back home.

He held his ground.

Some sense was tingling.  She was too pink.  And a weird sort of pink at that, and wet... moist...  It was like she'd been turned inside out without any of the obvious grossness you'd expect from seeing someone with their skin turned inside out.  And there was still those great flytrap leaves.  They continued to swing open.

Still with her arms outstretched, the woman receded away from him as though she was bound to each leaf and the plant opening up was pulling her tethers taut.

Bate's heart quickened in his chest.  It felt like something precious had been dangled before him and was now being taken away.

He didn't move forward, but he didn't move away either.

What happened next happened too fast for Bate to properly register.  The two great flytrap leaves whooshed together like bellows, there was a blur of motion and the pink, maybe-naked girl was standing right in front of him.  Bate was too surprised to react as she grabbed his collar, pulled his face forwards and pressed her lips against his in a kiss.  Her other arm looped around his lower back.

Bate barely had a chance to register a hot woman was kissing him when his feet left the ground and he was propelled forwards as if shot from a catapult.  He shot across the clearing and between the flytrap leaves until his forward momentum was stopped by the soft, yielding body of the pink girl.

It was a good way to be brought to a halt—jammed up against the naked body of a hot woman.  She hadn't stopped kissing him the whole time.  Her legs wrapped around his waist and her hands slipped under his shirt to roam all over his chest and then around his back.  Bate got into it as well.  He slid his hands down her smooth, sweat-slick curves and returned her kiss with the same ardor.

He wanted to put his arms around her as well, but no matter how he tried to worm his hands between her back and the fleshy wall she was pressed up against he kept encountering some kind of stretchy barrier that blocked his way.  It was as if there was no gap at all and the woman's body merged seamlessly into the spongy wall behind them.

While Bate was trying to get his arms around his new companion, shadows fell across him as the giant flytrap leaves smoothly swung back together.  He was too engrossed in exploring the body of his new love to notice.  She was coated in some kind of aromatic oil that made it so easy for his hands to slide over her lush contours.

He was also too engrossed to notice he was now naked with no recollection of how this had occurred.  In a fanciful turn of imagination he wondered if she'd pulled him across the clearing so fast she'd yanked him right out of his clothes as though he was a character in a Looney Tunes cartoon.  In reality his uniform had rotted away on contact with the oils covering her body and sloughed off him like a reptile's discarded skin.

It took the padded interior walls of the flytrap leaves pressing up against his flanks to remind him where he was.  He glanced up and saw the light from outside was restricted to narrow bars filtering between the tines on the edge of the leaves.  It looked a long way away.

"Are we safe here?" Bate asked.  "This plant looks like it might be carnivorous."

The pink girl kissed him on the cheek.

"This plant is me," she said to him in perfect English.  "And now I have you caught, pinned between my padded leaves."

Her arms and legs slithered between the padded walls and Bate's body as she wrapped her limbs around him and drew him close.

"And you know what happens to those that get caught," the pink girl said.

"They're fucked," Bate said.

With horror, he realized he was fucked.  The walls had closed in so much he was wedged between them and couldn't move.  He wondered what the fluids covering her body—and now his!—really were.  They'd already rotted away his uniform.

"That's right," she said.  "We fuck... and fuck... and fuck."

Bate's sudden fearful revelation hadn't yet had a chance to percolate down to his boner.  Her oil-slick limbs roaming all over his naked body had perked his dick up into an interested erection.  She pressed up against him.  His erect cock pushed between two fleshy lips and entered her warm sex.  She sank down his shaft and he pushed up deeper into her heat and moistness.

This wasn't the fucked Bate had envisioned, but he was not about to complain.  Having sex with an alien girl was an infinite improvement over being eaten by one.  And she was tight, really tight.  Bate hadn't felt pussy as tight as this since high school.

She could also do things with her pussy Bate hadn't even realized were possible.  The walls tightened around his member, then relaxed.  Tightened... then relaxed.  Tightened... then relaxed.

It was a different kind of stimulation.  Wedged between the padded walls and tangled up in her limbs, there was no way for Bate to generate thrust in either direction.  Not that he needed to, the contractions of her vagina pulled on him with gentle tugs.  It wasn't just her sex—her thighs, her body, the padded walls, all squeezed him with the same rhythm.

It was... amazing.

"Water me with your seed," the pink girl said.

Bate hoped she was ready for a flood.  Those little squeezes of her pussy kept changing rhythm.  Every time he thought she was about to take him over the edge, she slowed down and let his climax build up and up until he knew the final release was going to be monstrous.

The padded walls sealed up around him until he was contained within them in his own little intimate pocket.  It didn't concern him.  He'd ceased thinking of it as a plant.  It felt more like he and a sexy playmate had been wedged between two soft mattresses in a kinky brothel.  Her body and the walls throbbed around him to the same sensual rhythm.

"Water you, I'm going to drown you!" Bate laughed.

She smiled at him.  Her pussy squeezed and tugged.  Faster now.  There would be no coming back from the edge this time.  Bate used what little degree of freedom he had to press his hips up against her and groan as he finally erupted.  It was monstrous, a gush of release like nothing he'd ever experienced before.

Here too was more proof that she was more than the hot little slut wrapped around him.  The pulsing tunnel of her sex was long and terminated not in a womb but a large chamber behind and beneath her body.  That chamber expanded and Bate felt the suction pulling at him.  He erupted again—a second orgasm in its own right and even stronger than the first.  It emptied his balls as fast as if she'd dropped a hose in his tank and siphoned of all his gas, leaving him a twitching wreck of jittery misfiring neurons.

A happy twitching wreck of jittery misfiring neurons.  That was... satisfaction.

"That was amazing," he said.  "And to think I thought you were a carnivorous plant."

"Oh, but I am a carnivorous plant, my dear," the Venus mantrap said.

She pressed her lips against Bate's.  Her throat worked and she spewed a torrent of liquid down Bate's throat.  Within the fluid mix was a complex anesthetic compound that drugged Bate and shut down his pain receptors.  This was a small mercy on the part of the Venus mantrap.  The majority of the liquid was a highly corrosive acid that melted through Bate's flesh like boiling water through soft butter.  Some ate through his throat and flooded his chest.  The rest flooded into his central cavity and liquefied his internal organs.  Bate didn't even feel it.  Within the digestive acids was another exotic drug—a potent aphrodisiac—that, together with the pulsing motions of her vagina, triggered another explosive climax from Bate.  His last conscious moment was the most intense burst of pleasure he'd ever experienced, even as his meat sloughed off his bones and he spurted his own liquefied innards into her pulsing vagina.

The mantrap drank him down with great lusty gulps.

* * * *

PFC Stewart Peter Bate caught movement out of the corner of his eye.  He turned to see a pink figure shooting forwards as if on a bungee rope.  In the brief moment he had to see her, Bate thought he was looking at an attractive and naked young woman.  At the apex of her forward motion she opened her arms and threw a collection of debris out across the jungle.  Then, just as fast as she'd appeared, she was reeled back between a pair of giant green flytrap leaves that closed around her like heavy iron gates.

The trash she'd jettisoned rained down through the foliage to the right of Bate.

Was that part of a human skeleton?

Bate went over to investigate and put his hand to his mouth as he made the horrifying discovery of a human skull and part of a ribcage lying against the base of a tree.  Both lay in puddles of vile green ichor.  Bate had a horrible feeling he was looking at the remains of one of his squad, but he couldn't for the life of him tell who it was.