by Wade, Vixen
The experience grew transcendental, until she felt as if she saw and felt her body from outside of its physical restraints. Her heard herself grunting on each thrust, air pushed from her lungs with each impact of demon cock. To her dismay, she could hear for herself the pleasure she took.
Feeling Narlathotep' balls slap against her wet pussy, that familiar sensation started building inside of her. She was only a few thrusts away, and then she was going to cum. From the deep buildup it wasn't to be a normal orgasm. There was nothing she could do to stop it, and doubted even if Narlathotep stopped blasting into her ass, that it would halt its implacable progress.
“Fuck!” it was her turn to snarl.
Unable to endure any longer, she let loose, as Narlathotep continued the brutal thrusting up her ass. The anal orgasm started in a small, screaming roar, but quickly became an intense tremble that shook her to the core. Her pussy exploded, as Narlathotep' balls slapped it like hammers on a gong. She squirted across the nutsack, big as a woman’s purse, soaking it.
Her defiled asshole grabbed hold of Narlathotep' cock as he thrust, forcing her orgasm to stretch on in powerful waves, shaking her violently.
She lifted her head, saw her orgasm twisted face, tears streaming, in the old mirror. Above her Narlathotep’s face twisted in its own pleasure, evil radiating from the demonic features like heat from a bonfire.
She screamed out her anger and pleasure in one, long, guttural shriek, straight into her own reflection.
Narlathotep, gave one last thrust, shoving his cock as far inside Veronica's tight asshole as he could, howled, and deposited his cum deep inside her. At each wave of orgasm she felt his cock shoot another load of boiling sperm deeper in her.
“No!” she screamed, terrified.
The demon attempted to pull out but to her surprise her rectal sheath bore down hard, trapping it. In the mirror, Narlathotep looked shocked. She felt the return of the familiar euphoric rush and realized she’d deeply misunderstood a Succubus’s power.
It was not cunt-centered. It was core centered, she realized, feeling herself swell with stolen power. Her pussy was not the Succubus, she was the Succubus.
It was her turn to lock eyes with the demon and she saw the light fading from his infernal glowing eyes.
“That all you got, bitch?” she laughed.
Narlathotep dropped like a trip hammered steer. His flaccid penis plopped out of her ass and Veronica stood, filled with savage strength and wild, cosmic energy.
A great hand reached up and grabbed her.
Beneath them the floor gave way.
***
She struck the floor and, with the sound of boards snapping, plunged through the rotted wood, the Hunting Horror with her. They plummeted into the dark as a miasma of mold and perpetual dank reached an overpowering stench.
Veronica gripped the dying creature. The thing tried clawing free to break away and use its leathery wings. She slid her arms in tight under the Horror's shoulders and tucked her head beneath its dragon’s chin. The wet dog stink of the monster gagged her as she scissored her arms hard. The very power of its own soul filled her with the strength to fight.
The Horror cavorted and bucked, trying to contort free. Veronica wrapped her legs around its limbs, anchoring herself, even as they plunged downward. Jerking quickly while pulling her arms tight, she spun the thing around half a heartbeat before they crashed into the next level.
The impact came in a stunning shock.
The hard, knotted form of the Horror reverberated with the concussion as Veronica spun clear. The vertigo felt sickening as she tumbled free, breath torn from her body. She rolled once to clear the Horror's reach. Head still spinning, she paused, fighting disorientation.
The floor cracked like a gallows trapdoor falling open under the feet of a hanged man. Her stomach dropped so fast she wanted to vomit as she plunged downward again. Sensing the Hunting Horror adjacent to her, she struck, desperate to fend off any clawing attack.
She missed a wild strike then felt the whip-like slap as the thing's leathery wings snapped out, trying to break the fall. Again, operating on instinct and the infusion of soul power, Veronica reached out and grabbed it.
The Horror shrieked, twisting at the neck to bite free from the woman's clutch, but Veronica felt the shift and met it with a short, sharp head butt that snapped the thing’s face back like a cork shooting from a bottle.
Entangled, the unearthly predator couldn't use its wings and the pair crashed into the next floor, still closely locked together. Veronica tried rolling with the inertia of the fall, but her attempt was clumsy and she bit back a cry as she re-injured her weak ankle.
The Hunting Horror was on her and this time the thing's fingers closed around her neck in iron manacles. The animal stink of the thing and its ghoulish breath choked Veronica even as her throat squeezed tight. Half sitting up, Veronica threw a series of hooking blows, smashing the thing first in the ribs, then the head.
It was like punching a stone post. She was good at fucking. Good at every aspect of sex. She’d never been in a fight in her life. A couple times jealous wives and girlfriends had come at her, but she’d always managed to get away.
Snatching hold of the shoulder she'd wounded earlier, she tore at it, desperation lending her prodigious strength. The winged hunter arced in agony and Veronica locked her legs above the monster's narrow, human-like hips, giving herself leverage to resist the creature’s throttling choke.
The boards underneath them groaned loudly.
Both combatants froze for a moment, then the floor gave way once more and they dropped into the darkness like stones down a well. Again, Veronica hugged into the sickening thing and rolled the bigger creature.
Once again, the impact was stunning.
It hurt with a numbing pain that jerked the will to fight from her even as the monster’s form softened the blow. Gasping for air from lungs emptied by the crash, Veronica tried rolling clear. Her vision swam until the inky blackness undulated in peculiar, disquieting ways.
Under her body she felt unyielding stone.
She winced and realized the creature wasn't moving, and she dimly realized that it lay slack as a corpse. Gasping for breath, she stopped, feeling the Hunter's blood congeal on her face, its sperm on her ass.
Her chest hitched once and she sucked in stale, moldy air, fighting the dizziness caused by her exertion. She felt the thing sprawling out beneath her in the blackness, and she dared to hope. She slumped and fell to the floor.
She couldn't assume herself safe, not in this carnival of horrors, but she was too tired, too brutalized to care. She needed rest. She struck the cold stone of the floor harder than she intended and felt her head bounce cruelly.
Brilliant points of light burst across her vision as splitting agony blossomed in her temples. Her ears were deafened by the sound of ringing. Then, like the cover of a book snapping shut, everything was dark and silent.
She lay still on the floor in the gloom, unmoving as blood leaking from the slain Hunting Horror spread in a slow, sticky wave, washing into her, staining her skin crimson. She heaved and vomited into the puddle of blood.
She lay very, very still and did not wake.
***
Veronica opened her eyes.
There was no sense of disorientation or confusion. She understood exactly where she was and why she was there. She stood on a broken chunk of earth floating freely in an asteroid belt around a strange, massive planet. Overhead spun endless constellations. Her form was intangible, ethereal, and she felt no need for oxygen.
Looking around, she saw the withered husk of some unknown Elder, eons dead and laying long forgotten. A translucent figure shimmered next to him. She took in the vision of the demi-god as it stood with brooding awe.
"Bast," she whispered.
"How do you fare?" he asked. “Your victory balanced cosmos scales.”
Veronica regarded the feline god. She remembered the taste of its cock, t
he promise of a good fuck if she earned it. She smiled, reached for him.
“I feel no pain, only victory.”
“My world – the court of the King in Yellow -- is safe for now. It’s almost enough.” Bast said.
“I think, before you return me to my rightful lord, you owe me something you promised when this began.”
Bast stepped in close. “Veronica, I am sorry, but something else must happen.”
“What? What else must happen?” she asked, betrayed.
“My lord, the King in Yellow,” Bast said, “desires your presence in his court.”
She tried to shout, but in that moment, they were simply, gone.
End
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