The other man unlocked a padlock and swung open the chain-link gate in front of them.
"Nah, had to do a job for Mr Herbert. Caught the highlights on Match of the Day."
Jonny and Teddy walked back to Teddy's BMW. They drove through the gate, stopped the car, got out, closed the gate and locked it behind them.
"I reckon it's the Gunner's year this time," Jonny said.
"Nah," Teddy replied.
They got back in the car and drove down a small tarmac driveway towards a large warehouse. Teddy parked the car around the side of the dilapidated building and both men got out.
"Nah?" Jonny parroted. "Unbeaten at home, top of the league on Boxing Day...it's their year for sure."
The Eye and the Gherkin could be seen off in the distance, but this was a flat, grey, forgotten part of the city, still waiting in vain for the economic upswing that would lure the developers back to throw up even more shrines to the worship of capitalism. Until then run-down warehouses stood empty and green weeds reclaimed the tarmac margins inch by inch.
"Nah," Teddy said.
He unlocked a side entrance and pushed open the door.
"They'll fuck it up on the road again to Stoke, Birmingham or some other Northern shithole. Wenger will give it the usual whine about his kids being kicked off the park while Fergie grinds out another title for United. Same as it always is."
On the other side of the door was a small hallway with a little office on the left hand side and exits both ahead and to the right of them.
"You gotta have faith," Jonny said.
Teddy smiled and shook his head.
They took the door to the right. It led through a pair of fire doors, up a set of stairs and into a small observation room that overlooked a large black space.
"Got to hand it to Sir Alex," Jonny said. "I can't stand the grizzled old bastard and United are scum, but you got to respect him. Year after year, he keeps picking up those trophies. If only they could get him for the England job."
"He's Scottish," Teddy said. "And far too smart to get stuck with that poisoned chalice."
They walked down another flight of stairs and into a short corridor that terminated in a heavy metal door. It looked like a recent addition, as did the fancy electronic card reader on the wall next to it. Both seemed a little excessive for such an uninteresting-looking warehouse.
"Shame," Jonny said. "He'd soon whip that overpaid bunch of pampered tossers into shape. We wouldn't be losing four-fucking-one to the fucking krauts under him, that's for sure."
Teddy inserted a card into the reader and punched in a code. Bolts slid back with a loud clank. He pushed the door open and they walked through into a cavernous room. Teddy pulled a switch on the wall and floodlights flared on, illuminating the whole room with a harsh white glare.
Jonny paused and looked around in wonder.
CCTV cameras whirred back and forth on wall-mounted brackets. A circular section of the floor, about ten metres in diameter, was cut out. The pit was surrounded by a sturdy metal railing about five feet high. A couple of plastic chairs were arranged around its circumference. The top of a cage, its walls thick metal bars, rose up out of the centre of the pit.
"This is all a bit James Bond," Jonny commented.
"It needs to be the highest possible security," Teddy said.
"Yeah, but this is like something out of...I don't know...the X-Files or something. How can Mr Herbert afford all..."
Jonny stopped talking.
They'd advanced close enough to the pit for him to be able to see over the rim and into the cage. Something sat cross-legged on the floor about two metres below them.
It wasn't human.
It had red skin. Red like blood. Black wings like those of a bat scaled up to human size were folded behind it. A pair of black horns grew out of its temples and curved down behind its pointed ears. Instead of feet it had a pair of cloven hooves. A long black tail with a spade-like tip lay curled around it.
Jonny turned to Teddy. "What the fuck is that?"
Teddy shrugged. "What does it look like to you?"
Jonny knew what it looked like, but it couldn't be that. They didn't exist. All that religious stuff, it was a load of bollocks, wasn't it? I mean she—for Jonny was close enough now to see it was a she—might look like something out of an old horror film or one of those computer role-playing games, but that didn't mean she was an actual...
"Demon?" he said.
Teddy shrugged again. "As good a name as any," he said.
It didn't mean she was an actual demon demon. She could be an alien that looked like a demon. Or some kind of top secret experimental mutant that looked like a demon.
"What's she doing here?" Jonny asked.
Teddy shrugged. "Mr Herbert acquired her. Cost him a right old pretty penny, I heard."
The demon looked up at them. She was actually quite shaggable, Jonny thought, for something with horns, wings and a tail. There was an elfin quality to her face, like one of those hauntingly beautiful model waifs. There was also a slutty air about her. It was hard to say what exactly. Something about the pout of her full lips, in the line of her cheeks, in the way her long, silky black hair cascaded onto her slender shoulders.
And mainly because she was stark bollock naked.
Those were some gorgeous titties, Jonny thought, a real overflowing handful. They hung above her flat midriff like ripe round fruit. Her crotch was hairless and Jonny could see the folds of her vagina. She didn't seem bothered by this in the slightest.
Yeah, the kind of girl, if you took her home after pulling her at a club, you'd know exactly what you were in for, Jonny thought.
"See that circle," Teddy said.
He pointed to a circle drawn on the floor in the centre of the cage. It looked odd. Jonny could clearly see it was drawn in ash or some other black powder, but right in the centre of the line he thought he saw speckles of red light, which could be the glow of flickering embers...if it didn't look as though the fire was burning in the ground far far beneath them. Lines criss-crossed the circle in a star pattern. The devil girl sat in the centre of it.
"Supposedly that's all that's needed to keep her...it," he corrected, "right where it is."
"Then what's with all these bars?" Jonny asked.
"To stop you having any foolish ideas of getting too close to it," Teddy said.
Still seemed a little excessive to Jonny.
Those eyes did unnerve him. It looked like someone had injected crude oil into her eyeballs and filled them up until they were solid black all the way through. They weren't eyes, they were wells and Jonny had a feeling he didn't want to find out how deep they went.
"What am I here for?" Jonny asked.
"You pulled guard duty," Teddy said.
"Guard Duty?"
"Yeah. Mr Herbert wants someone here at all times to keep a close eye on it. The cameras aren't enough. Shite electrics. Keep cutting out all the time. So he wants a good old-fashioned human to keep xxx and raise bloody hell if anything funny happens. You brought a book?"
"Yeah," Jonny said. He pulled a battered old true crime paperback out of his back pocket.
"Good. I'll be back for you at six," Teddy said.
With that he turned and walked away. The metal door shut behind him with a metallic clang. Jonny was alone with...whatever it was in the cage.
He raised clenched fists. "Yes" he said with an excited hiss.
He was in He had to be. They wouldn't have let him see this if they had no faith in him.
And asked by Mr Herbert himself, fuck yeah. No more breaking heads down at the Dog and Duck every Saturday night. He was on the move. He was doing real jobs for the organisation now.
He hadn't expected anything as weird as this, though. He walked around the circular railing. The demon, or at least the thing that looked like a demon, sat cross-legged at the centre of the circle within the cage. They were definitely wings folded up behind her back—black and leathery like a bat's. He saw the point where her spine extended out into a long black tail, as slender as a whip. The spade-like tip flicked up and down, dispelling all notions it might be some kind of elaborate costume.
Devil. Demon. Look them up in an encyclopaedia and he'd see a picture looking a lot like her.
This was too fucking freaky.
He knew Mr Herbert had influence, but this... What the fuck was the boss mixed up in?
He completed a full circuit and stared down at her. The demon stared back at him with a dispassionate gaze.
"What's your name?" she asked, causing Jonny to startle as if a gun had gone off close by.
She spoke? She spoke English?
"Jon," he replied. "Who are you?"
"Melacetia," the demon girl replied. Her voice was sexy smooth. Smooth like melted dark chocolate.
It wasn't the right question.
"What are you?" Jonny asked.
That was the right question.
"A succubus," Melacetia replied.
Nope. Didn't help.
"What's one of them when it's at home?" Jonny asked.
"A sex demon," Melacetia answered, "a mistress of the forbidden arts of pleasure."
The way she rolled her tongue around pleasure sent a little shiver through Jonny's bollocks. Well, she was naked after all.
"What, demon as in demon-from-hell demon?" he asked.
Melacetia nodded.
Fuck. This was heavy. Jonny had stopped going to church some years ago. Didn't seem like such a good idea now.
"How did you end up here?" Jonny asked.
"I was summoned," she said. "Several of my kind are in the service of a powerful rival. They're studying me to learn how to better fight them."
"Study, as in experiment on?" Jonny asked.
Melacetia didn't answer. She looked down at the floor.
Jonny felt a little sorry for her at that moment.
"They must think you're real dangerous," he said, rapping the thick metal railing with his knuckles.
"Do I look dangerous?" the succubus asked.
Take away the horns, wings, tail and that red skin, and she'd look a well fit bird. Even with them she looked completely fuckable.
"Dunno," Jonny said. "Are you?"
Melacetia smiled and for a moment there was the hint of something in her black eyes that made Jonny glad there were two sets of bars between them.
"S'pose it doesn't matter either way with these in the way," he said, thudding his hand against one of the solid metal bars.
The succubus said nothing. She resumed her serene cross-legged pose in the centre of the cage.
Jonny sat in one of the chairs and opened his book. He struggled to immerse himself in the real-life derring-do of East End gangsters from the sixties. It wasn't happening. He read the words on the page, but they might as well have been intelligible squiggles. They couldn't penetrate behind his eyeballs. Something else was whirring through the machinery of his mind.
A demon. An honest-to-fuckness real life fucking demon. From hell. The Hell.
It opened up all kinds of questions. If she was from hell, then there had to be a heaven, right? Did that mean there were also angels? A god?
Jonny thought he should start going back to church on Sundays.
He tried getting back into the book. It was no use. There was a burning curiosity consuming his thoughts.
"You're from the other side, right?" he asked the demon. "So you must know."
Melacetia looked up at him. Her empty black eyes were doorways into fathomless depths.
"What happens to us when we die?" Jonny asked.
"Your souls come to us and become our playthings," Melacetia answered. She turned her head away as if the topic was of no interest to her.
Jonny felt a cold chill, like someone had stepped on his grave. It was best if he didn't ask what being a plaything entailed, he decided.
"Yeah, but that's only the bad people, right? The sinners. What about the other place?"
"Other place?" Melacetia said.
"Yeah, you know. Heaven. The place where the good folks go. Where God and his angels hang out."
The demon didn't, judging by her blank expression.
"Heaven," Jonny tried again, opening out his arms and pointing skyward for emphasis. "The place you were kicked out of after you and all the other fallen angels tried to rebel against God."
Melacetia gave a Jonny a bemused smile.
"I am and always have been a succubus," Melacetia said, "a mistress in the arts of seduction and sinful delights."
Jonny gave up in exasperation. Maybe it had been so long they'd forgotten. Or the memory had been blanked from their mind or something.
"Do you consider yourself a good person?" Melacetia asked, her gaze uncomfortably penetrative.
"Yeah, mostly," Jonny said. "I mean I've done the occasional dodgy thing to get by, but who hasn't. I'm sure JC will understand when he meets me at the pearly gates."
Once he started going back to church and making up for several year's absence with plenty of ass-kissing prayer.
"JC?" Melacetia queried.
Jonny jerked his head back with a quizzical expression. "Jesus Christ. The main man. Son of God."
Did demons not know anything?
Nope, judging by her expression of languid indifference.
Jonny shook his head and laughed. "They really keep you guys in the dark down there."
He returned to his seat and sat down. Didn't know who Jesus Christ was, maybe she couldn't help him with his questions after all.
Jonny struggled on through his book. Now that the initial excitement had worn off, he was getting bored. Nothing was happening and nothing was going to happen. The demon was locked up tighter than if she'd been imprisoned at Wormwood Scrubs. She wasn't going anywhere. She continued to sit cross-legged and stare into empty space.
Jonny crawled through a few more chapters. He checked his xxx. One o'clock. Was that all? He still had five hours to go and he was started to feel tired.
His head drooped forward. He jerked it back, blinking.
He'd been out real late last night as well—celebrating the Arsenal win with the lads.
His head drooped forward. His eyelids closed.
His dreams were not peaceful.
Melacetia was out of the cage and sitting in his lap. She was fucking him. She panted in pleasure as she bounced her hips up and down on him. Jonny was fixated by her heavy boobs as they swayed and bobbed in front of him. He watched as her wet pussy swallowed his dick right to the hilt—
Jonny jerked awake. There was a massive boner in his boxers. He looked at the cage. Melacetia stared straight back at him, her black eyes unreadable.
"Is that you?" he asked.
Melacetia turned away and didn't answer.
Jonny returned to his book. It wasn't long before his eyelids were getting heavy again. His head nodded forward—
—and he thrust into the demon's sweet cunt from behind. She braced her arms against the bars and thrust back at him, her heavy breasts swaying beneath her. Jonny gripped the luscious flesh of her ass and—
—jerked awake.
Melacetia was staring at him again.
"Stop it" he said.
"I can't," she said. "It's involuntary. I broadcast images of lust into the dreams of any man within range. I can't help it."
"So I can't sleep without jizzing my pants," Jonny said. "Great."
The succubus cocked her head. Her face took on a mischievous cast.
"Are you fully satisfying your sexual needs?" she asked.
"What," Jonny said, his hand straying over to cover the noticeable bulge in the front of his pants.
"I sense a build up of tension and frustration," Melacetia said.
Dawn, his girlfriend, wasn't exactly the most responsive in bed. She refused to suck his dick as well.
"Would you like me to help you with that?" Melacetia asked.
"And how do you intend going about that?" Jonny said. There were two rows of thick metal bars and some kind of weird mystical circle between them.
"I know a lot of very dirty words," Melacetia said. "I can help you bring yourself to a most satisfying release." Her eyes brightened with suggestive intent.
Jonny laughed and shook his head. "Nah, it's okay. I'm quite capable of having a wank on my own, thanks."
He was tempted to slink off to the toilets right now and rub one out. Melacetia's naked body was weighing heavily on his mind, especially after those damn dreams. He didn't. He suspected JC and the man upstairs would take a dim view of whacking off over a demoness from hell. Fuck, what he wouldn't do to put his hands on those titties, though.
Cool it, Jonny thought. Read your book.
Like he was going to be able to do that. Those fucking dreams. He looked at the words and turned the pages, but all he saw was the hot body of the succubus bouncing up and down on him, her plush lips pouting as she gave him the slutty eyes.
Fuck, he thought, tossing the book onto the chair next to him. Think of something else.
Like Arshavin's goal that won it for the Gunners last night. Top corner. Take that, fucking Chelski.
His happy football reminiscing was interrupted by moans coming from the cage. Melacetia was no longer sitting cross-legged in the circle. She was on her back with her legs apart. Her mouth gaped open in ecstatic moans as she inserted two fingers into the velvet depths of her pussy and worked them back and forth.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
Stupid question really. It was obvious what she was doing. She was frigging herself off.
The demoness paused and stared at him with cold black eyes.
"I'm a sex demon," she stated. "I have needs I must take care of."
She turned away and resumed pushing her hips up against her fingers. Little droplets of perspiration ran down the soft slopes of her breasts.
"Doesn't it bother you someone's watching?" he asked.
Melacetia gave him a dirty smile.
"I prefer it when someone's watching," she purred.
Dirty cow, Jonny thought.
"Do you want to join in?" she asked, her face both sweet and suggestive. "Your little man looks eager. Why don't you let him out?"
Jonny felt that eagerness pressing out against the fabric of his trousers. He was also conscious of the security cameras whirring away behind him.
"I don't think that would be a good idea," he said.
The succubus carried on anyway. He watched her body thrash in the centre of the ring, her back moving like a wave as she thrust her hips up against her questing fingers. She brought herself to climax with a loud cry. Her body trembled as she pushed her hips up as far as her knees would allow.
Jonny smelled her sex. It was a moist aroma—sinful and enticing. The scent slithered up his nostrils and wrapped his mind in hazy gauze.
"Mmm. Go on. Let him out," the succubus purred.
Her voice was different—deeper, oozing seduction. It burrowed into the soft crevices of his mind and took root.
Jonny felt weird. Fuzzy. He undid his belt and dropped his trousers to the floor. His cock, red and bulging, sprang free. He enfolded it in his palm and absently tugged up and down.
"Mmm, yes," Melacetia hissed.
She placed her hands flat on the ground next to her and continued to thrust her hips up. Even though there was nothing but empty air above her, her labia gaped wide, revealing the velvet depths of her vagina.
Jonny stood on the floor above her and pushed his cock forward with sinuous thrusts of his hips. The enticing hole of her pussy was so far away.
"I can make it so it feels like I'm up there with you," the succubus said. A red tongue ran over her plush lower lip. Droplets of perspiration ran down the swollen bulges of her breasts. "Would you like that?"
Jonny nodded his head.
Would he? That maddening scent still clouded his mind and sent his pulse racing.
Melacetia gave another loud, orgasmic cry and flexed her hips as far as they would go. Something emerged—erupted—from between her gaping labia. It looked like light, solid pink light. Or maybe dye. Dye that drifted lazily through the air as if it was water.
Melacetia moaned again. More of the ethereal pink substance fountained up into the air. It floated in the air like globules of oil in water, as if its substance was incompatible with the matter of reality. It coalesced into a single pseudopod bobbing lightly on invisible currents.
Jonny's hand dropped away from his erection and his jaw fell slack.
Melacetia let her buttocks settle back onto the hard concrete floor. Her hips continued to twitch and more and more translucent pink light spilled from her gaping pussy. The ghostly pink pseudopod rose higher into the air like an ectoplasmic snake emerging from a snake charmer's basket. Gracefully, it curled down to slip between the bars of the cage and then flowed up to Jonny like a stream in reverse.
Jonny stood motionless as the blind head of the spectral pseudopod pushed through the railings and bobbed and weaved in the air before him. It looked as insubstantial as light or mist, but Jonny felt something when it nudged against the throbbing red head of his cock—a yielding membrane somewhere between a soap bubble and a balloon.
"It's my spiritual essence," Melacetia said. "Let it enfold you and we'll enjoy a pleasant soul fuck together."
She threw her head back and let out another loud cry of pleasure. Her hips flexed upward and a thick bulge of pink ectoplasm emerged from between her legs. It flowed up the rippling tongue of light in a wave. This time the pseudopod did more than nudge Jonny's cock. It surged forward, engulfing first the glans and then rolling down his shaft until his whole cock was enveloped in the pink glow.
Fuck, that felt nice. Real nice. Warm. Tingly.
Melacetia gave another loud sigh. More of the translucent pink ectoplasm flowed up to Jonny in a series of pulses. Jonny closed his eyes and let his hands fall to his sides as waves of pleasure flowed down his cock. He rocked on the balls of his feet as more and more of airy pink glow spilled out over his crotch. Not liquid, not solid, not gas; the pink ectoplasm ran down his legs and pooled around his ankles.
"Relax. Sit back. Let me pleasure you," Melacetia said.
In the cage, Melacetia pushed up hard with her hips. The force pulsed up the spectral conduit connecting them and broke against Jonny like a physical wave. The push wasn't hard, but it was hard enough to cause him to overbalance backwards. He didn't hit the floor. Instead his fall was broken by what felt like a soft beanbag filled with gel. Her essence. He sank into it and relished the comfort as it moulded to his form and supported his weight. He closed his eyes, sat back and luxuriated in the sensation as more of the warm substance spilled out over his crotch and piled up on his body.
"Comfortable?" a soft voice whispered in his ear.
Jonny opened his eyes. Melacetia was astride him.
No. It looked like her, but its form was made out of the same translucent pink ectoplasm that had enfolded him. It looked like her ghost, illuminated through a pink filter. The ethereal substance trailed back down to her physical form in the cage below.
For all her translucent appearance, Jonny still felt her full lips as they pressed against his. He felt the soft press of her boobs against his chest as she lay on top of him. Most of all, he felt the luxurious friction as his cock moved inside her as her hips rocked up and down on him.
He could even see it. It was mad. He glanced down and saw his cock inside her, embedded within a pink glow. He even saw his foreskin move back and forth as if an invisible hand was tugging up and down.
"Relax. Let me take care of this tension," translucent Melacetia whispered to him.
Jonny did. He closed his eyes and sank back into the soft matter underneath him. He focused on the gentle, tugging sensation as Melacetia's spectral form rose up and down on him. Fucking top, this was.
"They made a mistake," Melacetia whispered in his ear. "The circle is flawed. It holds my physical form, but there are cracks through which I can project my spiritual essence. Enough for me to feed."
Jonny's eyes snapped open. See-through Melacetia stared down at him with a gentle smile. She caressed his forehead with a ghostly hand and ran it through his hair.
"Enough for me to suck the soul from your body," she said.
Alarm shook Jonny from his blissful repose. He kicked out with his hands and feet and got nowhere. The ectoplasm looked like it wasn't truly there, like it was as delicate as gossamer, as insubstantial as mist, but it stuck to him like glue or rubber, stretching with his limbs, allowing them some leeway, but never giving enough to allow him to escape.
Ghostly Melacetia straddled his heaving crotch and looked down at his struggling form. The corner of her full lips turned up in a smile.
"Too late," she said. "Now I have you where I want you."
Jonny looked down at the cage with panic-stricken eyes. Solid Melacetia was frigging herself off again. She thrashed and writhed in the centre of the circle. Her deep red skin glistened with perspiration. The ectoplasmic tube connecting them bobbed up and down with her thrusting hips. Melacetia yowled and cried as her head thrashed from side to side. Less like a woman in ecstasy and more like something wilder—a cat, maybe.
Jonny paused in his own struggles and watched as her knees spread out wide, like she was giving birth. Something was emerging. It was pink like the ectoplasm surrounding him, but much darker—opaque almost—and flecked with livid red veins. Jonny first thought she was turning the moist channel of her pussy inside out. It wasn't that gross. The substance still had an unreal quality to it, even though it looked more solid than the matter he was entangled in. Melacetia puffed it out of her pussy like a series of balloons or smoke rings. Jonny watched as they travelled up the spectral tunnel towards him, throbbing and glistening like dark hearts of corruption.
"You're going to like this," ectoplasmic Melacetia said.
She placed spectral hands on his chest and continued to fuck him with slow, deliberate thrusts of her hips. The dark bulges of pink matter slid up the centre of the glistening pink tube and squeezed through the railings. The first bulge met and merged with the matter making up see-through Melacetia's ass as she met it on the upstroke. She paused, her spectral hips hovering above Jonny's cock while the roiling pink mass filled the space where her pussy was. She looked down at Jonny and pouted her lips like a slutty porn star.
Then she descended. Jonny watched his cock plunge right into the dark pulsing centre of the quivering pink matter.
Fuck.
Fucking the spectral copy of Melacetia had been pleasant enough, but it was kind of dry. Plastic. It was hard to explain. Whacking off to a hot porn star was fine and all, but it would never be the same as driving his unprotected cock right into her juicy wet pussy.
This was driving his unprotected cock right into a juicy wet pussy.
He moaned as his cock was enfolded in a slippery membrane that throbbed and pulsed with dark energy. It was obscenity. It was vulgarity. It was depravity. It was every little guilty, sinful and above all, bad pleasure congealed into physical matter.
It was inside him. He felt it enfold his cock and squeeze and squeeze, shrinking until something gave and it poured into him like a wave of black oil. Wicked pleasure flowed through his bloodstream in a lascivious tide. It felt like a salacious caress roaming over first his body and then sinking through his skin to grope his internal organs with debauched fingers.
"More?" the succubus whispered.
She didn't wait for a reply. Her hips came back down, and Jonny's cock was engulfed in another slithery mass. That too broke against him and flooded his system with another burst of corrupt delights.
"More?" Melacetia giggled.
Jonny moaned incoherently as another cushion of dark energy engulfed and then merged with his throbbing dick. More and more flowed into his body as the spectral succubus rose up and down on him with languid thrusts.
Too much. Too much. He was drowning. His legs straightened and he trembled as dark energy pulsed through his body. He watched it draw black lines under his skin as it slithered through his blood vessels. His mind was overwhelmed by thoughts of vile depravity, of pleasures forbidden. His balls felt swollen and heavy like cannonballs. Gravid and cancerous.
The succubus straddling him laughed. Her spectral form expanded and lost its shape. She fell across him like a heavy quilt. Jonny was engulfed entirely within the translucent ectoplasm. It pulsed around him like the beats of a languid heart.
"Come for me, baby," Melacetia whispered in his ear. "Come out your soul."
He felt her hot body lying on top of him, even though she was merged with the ectoplasm surrounding him. Her hips pumped up and down on him. His cock, swollen and bloated, plunged back and forth into a tight cuff with soft, stretchy walls. His balls tightened and he felt the imminence of release.
"Yes, give it to me," Melacetia breathed into his ear. She sucked on his earlobe with soft lips.
Jonny tensed. Weight pressed down on his groin as the succubus wrapped spectral arms and legs around him and hugged him tight. She teased his cock with skilful squeezes. The tube connecting them pulsed and throbbed, putting Jonny's cock and balls in the grip of an irresistible suction.
Jonny tried to fight it. He muttered prayers to God and Jesus Christ through clenched teeth.
The succubus giggled. "I don't think your JC is coming. You, on the other hand..."
Jonny gasped. His hips jerked violently upward. He came.
It was like no ejaculation he'd felt before. It didn't originate solely in his balls, but felt like it had come from the whole totality of his body. It didn't look like cum he was shooting into her either. It was dark red, almost black. Not blood. Too ethereal—too precious—to be mere blood. Specks of silver and gold glinted like glitter in the dark fluid.
The see-through tube throbbed and pulsed. Her spectral hips and pussy sucked on him like a ravenous maw. He cried out as another savage convulsion whiplashed through his hips and another torrent of dark liquid flecked with gold spouted from his cock. He watched as the tube siphoned it down to the gaping pussy of the demoness in the cage beneath him.
It was him, he realised dimly. She was gulping down him.
Another, even more powerful, paroxysm of pleasure tore through him and smashed his mind asunder. He sank deeper into the soft, smothering essence of the succubus and sighed in empty-headed bliss as she pumped out his soul and drew it down into the gaping void between her legs.
"Mmm, delicious," she murmured, before kissing him lightly on the lips.
* * * *
"Yeah, it's the same as before," Ted Demme said on the phone to Mr Herbert.
He looked down at Harris's partially undressed, still and above all, dead form. The body lay on the floor next to the railings around the pit. There wasn't a mark or anything on the body to indicate how Harris had died. He looked peaceful, relaxed even.
He was also sporting a monster erection. Like someone had injected his dick with Viagra or something.
"We're going through the tapes now," Demme said.
He didn't have much hope they'd find anything. It'd be like the other two times. Harris sitting on the chair or walking around the pit, then nothing but snow and static, then Harris lying dead on the floor with no clue as to what had killed him.
Something knew.
He looked down at the cage. The succubus sat cross-legged in the centre of the circle, seemingly oblivious or uncaring of its surroundings. There was the faint trace of a smile on its lips, as if it was smiling at a secret only it knew.
They said the fat man out in the States had twenty or thirty of them working for him. Demme shivered.
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