by M. E. Hydra
She really was trying to kill him and there wasn’t much he could do about it. Wargsnouts students were forbidden from learning direct attacking spells until at least the third year.
“Enhalarat mod Flambescanae!” Rosa yelled.
Flares erupted from the fire pits on either side of Phil. They coalesced into floating balls of flame. As Phil watched, they opened out to reveal the forms of beautiful women.
Beautiful women that also happened to be on fire.
Phil backed warily into the centre of the stone walkway.
“We are spirits of fire and passion,” a spirit said. “Burn for our lust.”
Flames flickered over their naked forms. Their bodies were thin and leggy—perfect catwalk models. Fire formed their hair, twisting up from their heads to form elaborate beehives. They were attractive, but clearly deadly.
The lead spirit blew a kiss and a ring of black smoke drifted towards Phil. He cast another shield, but in his panic cast the wrong type—anti-daemon rather than anti-magic. The smoke ring drifted right through and enveloped Phil’s head.
He couldn’t see or breathe. Phil coughed and spluttered and tried to brush the smoke from his watering eyes. It smelt a lot like sweet incense and he felt his mind spin and his heart race as it sank into his lungs.
A warm hand gripped his.
“Dance with us,” the spirit said.
Phil was spun into the arms of another spirit. He felt the heat of her body as she whirled him around in a wild flamenco. He heard crackling and smelt burning and realised it was the hairs on his body.
He was pinballed out into the arms of another spirit and whirled around faster and faster. Their feet were a blur as they danced. Phil’s feet screamed as they were forced to match the pace.
One of the spirits kissed him and his lungs were filled with her hot breath. His blood ignited as lust burned in his veins. The steam rushed to his head and clouded his mind with a sultry fog.
Phil was spun into the arms of two spirits. They held him in place as the spirit who’d kissed him approached.
“Your end will be like the fiery birth of a new star,” the spirit said. She reached between her legs and parted the flaming labia of her pussy.
He felt her molten heat as she approached. He knew if he entered her he’d be burnt to a cinder. Thankfully, he also knew how to deal with spirits like this.
“Exhalarat dom Flambescanae!”
He repeated the dismissal spell until each of the spirits disappeared in a puff of black smoke. Then he bent over in a coughing fit. He felt singed and parboiled.
Rosa wasn’t about to give him any time to rest either. He only just managed to dive out of the way as her fire whip slammed across the path and seared a black line into the stonework.
Phil backed away and stood on tottering legs. He threw up both an anti-magic and anti-daemon barrier. They surrounded him in twin flickering domes. He doubted they’d survive a decent hit and even if they did the impact would probably pop his brain. He continued to stand anyway, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
Rosa landed in front of him and folded her wings behind her. She walked up to the barrier, her hips swinging seductively. Phil watched her warily.
Rosa twisted her blood-red lips up in a smile. Her blue eyes sparkled.
She unlaced the front of her bodice and pulled it down. The ripe globes of her breasts bounced free and unfettered.
Phil gawped, entranced by the sight of her dusky brown nipples.
He lost concentration.
The shields flickered out.
“That might be considered a weakness, you know,” Rosa said.
She stepped inside the non-existent shields and casually planted a kick on Phil’s chest that sent him flying backwards and over the edge of the walkway. A pool of molten lava awaited him below.
Nooooooo… ah?
Phil wasn’t falling. Instead he was lying on something pliant. He looked around and realised his fall had been broken by something that looked like a transparent beanbag with fluorescent orange edges.
Rosa looked down at him. “You didn’t think I’d let you fall,” she laughed.
She peeled off the rest of her leather bodysuit.
“It’s a speciality of mine—an energy field of heat,” Rosa said. “I find they make extremely comfortable beds.”
Phil couldn’t argue with that. The surface was soft and luxuriously warm. Gentle vibrations ran through it like ripples through gel. The motions massaged his aching limbs with soft caresses. Perfectly relaxed, he sank into the shimmering field until nearly all of his body was enveloped by pleasant warmth.
Naked now, Rosa jumped down and landed astride him.
“You lost, fledgling,” Rosa said. She ran her hand through the energy, sending luxurious ripples across Phil’s body. “This is the point when a succubus holds her prey in a state of blissful relaxation while she leisurely sucks out their life and soul.”
Rosa ran a hand over Phil’s crotch. The liquid heat rippled up and down Phil’s cock in gentle stroking motions. He was completely helpless. His limbs felt so relaxed he couldn’t move them.
“What do I do with you, fledgling?” Rosa asked.
Phil sighed as the liquid heat continued to stroke up and down his erection. His balls felt like they’d been suspended in warm honey.
“You’re not strong enough,” Rosa said. “It’s only a matter of time before Nurse Honey sucks out your soul and imprisons it in her flesh for all eternity.”
Her other hand suddenly flared up in flame.
“Maybe it would be kinder to burn you to ash right now,” Rosa said.
Phil felt the heat of her hand as she raised it above his forehead. He felt a flash of terror, but it couldn’t penetrate the cocoon of warm pleasure surrounding him.
“No,” Rosa said, withdrawing her hand. “Verdé would never forgive me. The last time I incinerated one of her favourite pets she refused to see or talk to me for a century. I can’t tell you how much I missed her tongue lapping at my clit. You wouldn’t understand.”
She speeded up her stroking motions. He felt a tingling sensation in his balls and he groaned as he felt the orgasm breaking inside him.
“Oops,” Rosa said. “Hold on. We can’t have any going to waste.”
She straddled Phil and engulfed his cock with her pussy in one smooth motion.
Enveloped in her hot flesh, Phil couldn’t hold out any longer. He cried out in pleasure as his hips bucked upwards and he pumped a thick rope of cum into her moist pussy. Her vagina noisily sucked on his cock, gulping down his cream until his balls had none left to pump.
“And you are quite delicious,” Rosa said.
Her pussy kept his cock rock hard with expert little sucks and squeezes.
Rosa leant over and whispered in his ear. “I’m going to show you what it feels like when a succubus slowly sucks a man dry.”
Her fangs slid into his neck. There was no pain, only blissful ecstasy as her venom poured into his veins like warm lava. Any tenseness the massaging of the bed hadn’t already removed simply drained away. His balls swelled up with fervent activity.
Rosa sat back up and rocked up and down on his cock. Phil was entranced by the glory of her unfettered breasts as they bounced in front of him. She rose up and down with exquisite slowness. Her moist vagina slurped up and down his twitching shaft.
Her tail curled under Phil and lightly circled around the entrance to his ass. He was in such a relaxed state he offered no protest as the end of her tail gently pushed its way inside him. The tip wormed up until it found his prostate. It rubbed against it, sending thrills of pleasure through Phil’s body.
He was truly helpless now. He was Rosa’s plaything. She fondled her breasts and smiled majestically as her sucking pussy and probing tail reduced Phil to a molten puddle of bliss.
He came again, but this time it was a slow constant stream as she massaged his prostate with his tail. The orgasm was long and slow and Rosa greedily s
ucked down his seed until his balls were empty.
“Are you enjoying your slow death, little fledgling?” Rosa asked.
She leaned backwards and spread her wings. Phil sank deeper into her sumptuous sheath. Powerful muscles clenched around his cock, holding him in place and keeping him hard as she sucked him.
Phil couldn’t talk. The pleasure overwhelmed everything.
His balls had already filled back up. With a blissful shiver, he let go and emptied their contents into the strong suction of her vagina.
Rosa fell forward and tightly embraced Phil’s twitching body. Her warm breasts pressed against his chest. Her wings folded around his back. Far beneath him, the pool of lava bubbled with constant motion.
“You’re dying,” Rosa whispered in his ear. “Your body is breaking down its organs and tissues to produce more seed to feed me. Can you feel it?”
Phil could. It felt like being consumed by a thousand million tiny biting ants. Even that couldn’t penetrate the pleasure he felt. He was drowning in it. He couldn’t help himself. He didn’t want this to stop.
Rosa flexed her hips and her vagina gripped his cock with a mighty suck. Phil whimpered as he exploded within her. Semen spurted from his cock in a great geyser that Rosa’s pussy greedily gulped down. His balls weren’t even getting a chance to refill now. He was jetting his life straight down her hungry maw.
“Your tissues are drying up as I suck out all your fluids,” Rosa whispered.
Within his body Phil felt his tissues shrink and shrivel. He felt dry, desiccated.
He felt terror then.
Still, he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to stop. He couldn’t bear for this feeling to end. Rosa’s pussy continued to make wet slurping sounds as she sucked his life away.
“I can hear your heart beating like a little caged bird,” Rosa whispered. “It’s getting slower now. So little blood left to pump. Lub-dub. Lub-dub.”
Phil wheezed through parched and cracked lips. He felt cold, ever so cold, even with Rosa’s warm body wrapped around him.
“Can you hear it?” Rosa whispered. “Slower and slower. Lub. Dub. Your life slowly draining away. Is this what you want, fledgling?”
I don’t want this to end.
No, I don’t want to die, Phil cried inside.
His heart was struggling in his chest. He was a withered shell. Life was just the tiniest of flickering embers inside him.
“Lub— Dub—” Rosa taunted.
Slower and slower, Phil’s vital signs winding down even as his mind span in a fog of purest pleasure.
“Lub… But I won’t stop it,” Rosa whispered. “Not this time.”
Rosa lightly kissed him on the forehead and released his cock from her silken prison.
Phil gave a rattling wheeze. It was the only sound his dried up tissues could make. Whether it was a cry of relief or regret he didn’t even know himself.
“You’re lucky Verdé gives such wicked oral,” Rosa said. “Having to suffer a century without feeling that tongue within my pussy is a torture I’m unwilling to bear.”
Rosa looked down at Phil’s withered body and smiled.
“And you are quite an amusing little pet,” she said, smiling broadly. “Now let’s get you off to Nurse Honey. She won’t claim your soul just yet.”
Rosa paused, her lips pursed in thought.
“I think… How many times have we nearly killed you again?”
Second Recess
Praetor Quivocat Dahl sat around a table with his fellow departmental heads. They were in one of the college meeting rooms. Someone had made an attempt to make it look like a bland, everyday conference room. A plain wooden table, possibly from IKEA, stood in the centre of the room and was surrounded by conventional chairs upholstered in jaunty, sky-blue material. There was even an office water cooler standing in one of the corners.
No one had drunk from the water cooler for a while. That was probably because of the weird half-fish, half-monkey thing currently swimming around inside the water jar.
There were other signs the room was not an everyday office-block conference room. There were wet patches on the wall that bled livid red blood. A black circular symbol so abhorrent it made the eyes water to look upon it had been branded into the plain wooden surface of the table. A large wooden cross was nailed—upside down—to the far wall. Dahl had forbidden the cross’s use in ritual human sacrifice, at least not while visitors were present and especially not using the visitors themselves.
Dahl sat at the head of the table. His elbows were on the table and his fingers tented together.
“What’s the current list?” he asked with a resigned tone.
“Sadie Burroughs,” Mikael Neverende, the Primus Litract of Runic Readings, intoned. “Missing.
“Kim Corre,” he continued. “Eaten.
“Sam Davies. Eaten.
“Cheryl Goffe. Set on fire.
“Ashley Salisbury. Set on fire and then eaten.”
The roll-call was continued by Gwin Kroeber, the Arch-Artificer of Mechanus Diabolus.
“Malcolm Davies. Whereabouts unknown…
“Valerie Dixon. Whereabouts unknown, presumed eaten.
“Craig Purvis. Whereabouts unknown…
“Peter Warwick. Whereabouts…Oh wait, he’s okay. He managed to get himself locked in the Infernal Plagues laboratory cellar. Had to survive for about a month by eating the cast-off experimental rats. The medical staff believe he’ll be fine, although it might take a couple of decades for the facial pustules to clear up.”
“That’s good to hear,” Dahl said. “Mr Stine, what about you?”
“Kenny Alofs. Absorbed.
“Peter Baker. Missing.
“Mark Davis. Sucked inside out by a latyix doll-fiend.
“Jacob Pulman. Missing.
“Philip Rowling. Missing.
“Edwin Williams. Drunk.”
“Drunk?” Dahl queried.
“Uushalat undine,” Stine explained.
“Ah, of course.”
Stine finished his roll-call and it was the turn of Brion Jacks, the Cartifax of Hell-Dimensional Topology.
“Rusty Gale. Absent.
“Nosher Howard. Lost.
“Jack Powell. Misplaced.
“Jules van der Brake. Rectally inserted head first into a hygnous humbaba.”
“Yes, I remember that,” Dahl said. “Very nasty business. Very nasty indeed.”
The departmental heads continued with their lists of the dead and unaccounted for.
“Oh dear, oh dear,” Dahl said once everyone had finished. “It’s not been a good year, not a good year at all. I fear we’re perilously close to going under the fifty per cent mark.”
“It’s the youth of today,” Neverende complained. “They have absolutely no respect for tradition and their standards of numeracy and literacy are quite frankly abominable.”
Dahl nodded sympathetically. “It’s so hard to find good outreach students nowadays. I have complained to the minister about the declining standards of education in the general populace.”
He set down his pen.
“Oh well. The Favoured families will be informed as per the usual protocols. As for the outreach students, we’ll need to engage the services of—”
Stine cleared his throat.
“They’re not necessarily dead,” he said. “They might show up again.”
“Yes, yes. Quite right,” Dahl said. “For the missing, we’ll use the forger’s office to deflect the concerns of their family while we try to ascertain whether or not they’re still alive. As for the confirmed dead, I’m afraid we’ll need to summon the Zelesnik Negators. I do hope they haven’t raised their fees again.”
Phil came to. He was somewhere dark and moist. Wherever he was, he felt warm and very relaxed.
He remembered being in Rosa’s chambers, the succubus’s body entwined tightly around his. Flames had raged around them and Rosa’s body had burned with blazing desire, but in the
midst of it he’d felt cold, ever so cold. She’d sucked out so much of his energy only the barest flickers of life remained. She said she wouldn’t kill him this time, but maybe she’d misjudged.
No, he was still alive.
He felt like he was sitting upright in a bath of warm honey. A body, soft and warm, sat astride him, their legs crossed behind him. A thick membrane was stretched tightly around his back. The pliant material slid over a thick layer of syrupy substance that coated the whole of his body. Two breasts, as soft as the plushest of pillows, were pressed against his chest. More than pressed, he realised. The nipples had penetrated his skin and were embedded painlessly into the flesh of his chest. He was hooked up to the breasts as if they were some kind of bizarre IV line.
