A Succubus For Christmas (19 page)

As she came down harder and harder he felt the head of his cock push against the obstruction. The hard nub began to soften and give as his cock forced against it. More hot fluid dribbled down his shaft. Through the clouds of perfumed lust saturating his brain he dimly realised it felt like some sort of sphincter muscle. As his cock pushed against it he felt it give slightly, almost opening but not quite enough to admit his member.

Moaning with pleasure the succubus increased her efforts. She drove her hips down on him faster and harder. His cock pushed through, but didn't quite penetrate the inner sphincter. It tried to grip the head of his cock with muscular tightness, but slipped off.

The next stroke and he felt the internal muscle give. His cock travelled straight through into an organ that was soft and slippery. It quivered unpleasantly as he felt the sphincter travel down the length of his cock until it seemed to meet the opening of her vagina. His entire length was engulfed inside some kind of squishy organ.

The succubus moaned in ecstasy and then stopped her movements. She straddled him with his cock held tight within her in the vice-like grip of the sphincter he'd just penetrated.

“It's over my lovely prey,” she said contently, rubbing a hand on her flat stomach. “Can you feel it? You're in my stomach.”

The organ Laws's cock had entered twitched ominously. He felt a hot liquid touch the skin of his member.

Icy cold terror washed through Laws. Stomach? The horrible image of his trapped cock being dissolved by digestive juices popped into his mind. He started to struggle.

Sensing his fear the succubus pulled him forward and wrapped her legs around him, clamping her pussy down against his cock. Her arms completed the embrace and she flooded the air again with her perfume.

“Relax,” she whispered in his ear. “My juices won't cause you any pain. Feel.”

The organ pulsed and squirted a thick hot liquid around Laws's cock. It was sticky like honeyed sin and sent crackling sparks of pleasure through his skin. The organ contracted and its fleshy walls massaged the liquid into his cock with gentle stroking motions.

All the fear and struggling drained from Laws as his mind was overloaded by the sensation.

The organ pulsed again sending another wave of liquid pleasure through Laws's cock. The warmth spread out from Laws's cock and into his body.

“Doesn't that feel nice,” the succubus whispered. Her organ pulsed again and gently gripped and slithered up the length of his cock.

Next to him Laws heard the frenzied slap of flesh against flesh. There was also a more organic sound, unpleasantly liquid. He turned to see the beautiful rounded ass of the well-stacked blonde rapidly move up and down as she thrust her hips against Clark.

Clark was motionless as she pounded away in his lap. Laws looked up to see the face of his friend. Clark was ashen-faced, his eyes tearful in resigned terror.

The blonde looked at Laws and snarled. Her face was completely feral, a wild beast's. A long pointed tongue, pink and dribbling with saliva licked Clark's cheek. A black bat wing rose up like a curtain to hide both faces.

Soft hands slowly turned Laws's face until he was staring into Katya's abyssal black eyes.

“Alyssia's a beast,” she said. “She tears men's souls out in shreds. Not like me. You're lucky to get me. I'm…ah…”

The slithery organ convulsed again, squooshing more warm sticky liquid into Laws's cock. His sigh of pleasure turned into a whimper as he realised it was killing him.

“…more gentle with my prey. It's more pleasurable to give the juices time to fully dissolve the bonds that tie the soul to the body. Ah.”

Laws gasped as his cock was flooded in another gout of sticky liquid. He felt a little weird, like he was floating around inside his body rather than wearing it. This disconnection was because the bonds that held his body and soul together were breaking down, he realised with horror.

“Please don't kill me,” he begged. “I have a wife and two daughters.”

“Then you can die happy,” the succubus murmured. “You have achieved all that life intended for you.”

The lining of her stomach gripped and sucked at Laws's cock, before spurting yet more warm liquid over it. Laws's eyes rolled back in ecstasy at the feeling of her quivering internal flesh sliding over his trapped cock.

“What about my immortal soul,” he gasped.

“Nothing is truly immortal,” the succubus whispered in his ear.

The sticky walls began to ripple and throb around Laws's cock. He could feel the core that was him start to unravel from his flesh.

“I don't want to die,” he whimpered.

“Truly?” the succubus whispered. “You are not mine yet. I have weakened the bonds that tie the soul to the flesh, but only the violent pleasure of orgasm will break them completely.”

Oh god it felt so good. Her inner walls were contracting around his cock, stroking it in a muscular embrace. At the apex of each thrust more fluids were pumped onto his trapped cock.

She murmured in pleasure and sucked on his lower lip. Her erect nipples rubbed against his.

Within the embrace Laws's body was as taut as a steel cable. He must resist. He tried to block out all his senses.

Ah, but it felt so good. His cock was enveloped in a warm sticky fluid that permeated his skin and sent sparks of pure pleasure fizzing up to his brain. The slithery inner walls caressed and massaged him.

“Ah,” he grunted, trying to hold his body completely taut. His balls were tightening and he could feel that toe-curling sensation of an oncoming orgasm, the one that would rip out his soul and squirt it into the stomach of the demon rocking in his lap. He tried to focus every aspect of his being on holding back the orgasm.

His body was drowning in the sea of her sensuality. His senses were flooded by her perfume, her warmth, the silky feel of her hair, the softness of her lips against his, her breasts against his chest. And the warm wetness between her legs, throbbing pleasurably around his engorged cock.

“Ah.” His balls felt like they were boiling. All of his nerves were jangling like piano wires. His whole body was shuddering from the pent-up pressure.

The succubus broke off her kiss and was still.

“Pleasure always triumphs over the desire to live.”

Her organ gripped Law's cock and gently pulsed. Once, twice, three times. Then it expanded, gripping him in an irresistible suction.

“Ahhhhhhhh.” Laws's hips convulsed upwards as he explosively came into her sucking organ. His balls contracted and contracted, filling her with a great stream of hot cum.

His mind disconnected completely and he had the disorientated feeling of swimming adrift in his own body. His flesh surrounded him, but it felt like a cast off skin or an item of clothing that didn't fit any more.

Then the suction gripped him, pulling him down through his body and out through his cock and into the hot furnace of her centre.

* * * *

The succubus, whose real name was not Katya, rubbed a hand contentedly over her flat stomach. Within her Laws's soul was pleasurably dissolving. She liked the men who tried to hold on the longest. The soul was so much more delicious when it came away in one piece.

* * * *

Somewhere in the back streets of Tallinn…

The Coils of Aenictia

“We need to pull back!” Paul Heinlein yelled.

Damn, was there no end to them?

Physically the twitchers weren't that intimidating. They were slightly shorter than the average man and not much faster or stronger. They only possessed a rudimentary intelligence, enough to wield simple blades or clubs. In the days since the town of Carmel had been pulled into hell-space Heinlein had gunned down dozens of them.

What was terrifying about the twitchers was their ferocity and complete lack of self-preservation. They kept coming. It didn't matter what you did.

You could blow the head off the first twitcher and splatter his brain matter over the ones behind them. They didn't stop. They didn't pause to look at their fallen comrade. They didn't blink as bits of brain and blood splashed their faces. They didn't even flinch as the next shot took off their arm.

They. Just. Kept. Coming.

The survivors of the overlay had inflicted horrendous casualties on the marauding twitchers, but there didn't seem to be any end to their numbers. Every night the people of Carmel heard the screams as more of their fellows were dragged off into the darkness. Every morning Heinlein saw fewer grimy faces at role call.

They had to give up the supermarket and pull back to a more defensible position. The men of Carmel had the advantage of guns, but unlike Heinlein they weren't trained soldiers. A lot of their shots were wide and their nerve was fragile. What should have been a morale boost became a source of horror as the men shot down the enemy by the dozen only to see the remaining twitchers bound over the bodies and keep charging.

Out on the flank a twitcher broke through the line and smashed off a man's jaw in a spray of blood and teeth. The two men standing next to it stood frozen in horror. Their pause gave the horror chance to turn and smash its club into the face of the next man. The other man finally broke his paralysis, but then panicked and emptied an entire clip into the twitcher. They didn't have the ammunition to spare for that kind of overkill.

Out on the other flank Heinlein heard screams for help. A ginger-haired man scrabbled at the ground with bloodied arms as two twitchers grabbed a leg each and dragged him away into the darkness.

Heinlein didn't even know his name. Heinlein's military career had ended in Iraq when a piece of shrapnel had ripped half his face off. It had left him with a disfiguring scar on his left cheek. The townsfolk were polite about it, but he knew his appearance intimidated them. They kept their distance.

“Pull back to the plaza!” Heinlein yelled. It was the small shopping centre where they'd been sheltering the injured and children. It had a large central space and a few easily defensible entrances. “Two man teams, cover each other's back.”

They had to hold their nerve.

On his right a twitcher dropped down from a pile of crates. One of the retreating men stared at it in horror, before turning tail and running in terror. The man in front of him was left exposed.

“No! Cover each other!” Heinlein yelled.

He shot the twitcher, spraying its blood across the crates. The retreat was in danger of becoming a rout and if that happened they were going to get slaughtered.

The front man looked back and three twitchers jumped over his cover. Heinlein shot one, but couldn't stop the man vanishing beneath a hail of lashing arms.

“Heinlein!” Verhoeven yelled.

Heinlein turned to see a twitcher crouched on a pile of boxes in front of him. Mad glittering black eyes stared back at him. Like all the twitchers it had a small wrinkled black face. There was no nose, only the flat slits of nostrils in the centre of its pushed in face. Drool ran from a mouth filled with uneven little pointed teeth. The face looked like it belonged to a demented little monkey.

The head twitched, vibrating in that sharp twisting motion that had given the twitchers their name. The movement looked more insect than animal.

* * * *

“
It's still me.
I'm still the same person inside.”

“
I'm sorry, I know, I know. But I can't. I'm sorry Paul. I can't. Forgive me.”

“
It's still me.”

* * * *

Heinlein was surprised when he woke up. When the world had gone black he'd thought that was it, game over, the end.

He was outside Carmel. He stared down at a barren ground covered in veins of rock and dust. Sometimes the veins would pulse as if they were alive. Heinlein would have put it down to a trick of his imagination, but this was hell-space, minor weirdness like this happened all the time.

Heinlein was moving. Two twitchers had an arm each and were dragging him. His head was slumped forward and his ankles dragged limply along the floor. His hair fell across his face and felt matted, probably with his own blood.

Heinlein had spent most of his life as a professional soldier and despite his injury was still close to peak physical condition. The twitchers were a little shorter than an average man and while they possessed a wiry strength, they still only had a slight build. Heinlein thought there was a chance he could overpower the two of them.

But not just yet.

His head still felt woozy. He might have a concussion. No point trying to fight them in this condition. He'd only fall over and look ridiculous.