Chapter 5

"Still with us baby warlock?" Rosa whispered in his ear, her hot breath tickling through his hair.

She reached down between his legs with her other hand and cupped his balls in her hand. They were already swelling again, churning out more and more sperm despite the protestations of his body.

"Oh yes, you've still got plenty to give," Rosa whispered. She kissed him wetly on the side of his mouth with her full lips.

Phil continued to stare into Verdé's eyes. Once again he thought he saw something there, something hiding in the depths. The moment passed just as quickly as before, leaving Phil to stare at her bright, cheerleader mask.

"Your turn," she smiled breezily at Rosa.

Phil didn't feel like he had plenty to give. He felt like he'd been hollowed out. He was practically empty. He had so little energy left in his body he felt he'd probably fall over if Rosa wasn't supporting him.

Rosa let go. Phil fell backwards onto the bed and lay there.

"Okay, maybe not plenty," Rosa amended. "There's some left though. He's still breathing for starters." She put her head on his chest. "I think."

Rosa and Verdé were succubi. Phil was a novice warlock and — up until about half an hour ago — a virgin. He'd gone along with his friend Jake Pulman's hare-brained scheme to summon a couple of sex demons with the hope of finally getting rid of his virginity. The succubi had taken care of that. They'd also taken care of Jake. Phil was the next course on the menu.

Phil's current predicament had a mixture of positives and negatives. On the negative side Rosa and Verdé were going to kill him. On the positive side, if he was going to die, then being fucked to death was probably one of the better ways to go.

Given the choice Phil would rather not die at all. The sexual attentions of two succubi might be the high water mark of any man's existence, but Phil was only eighteen. He would have liked more of a lifetime before Verdé and Rosa brought it to a glorious close.

He didn't really have a say in the matter. His body had betrayed him completely. All he could do was lie back and stare at the ceiling.

Come on! he thought. He had to find a way out of this. His legs were too weak for him to try and run away and the succubi had used magic to screen the room against any possibility of rescue. He had to use his brain.

He was fucked.

Phil tried to remember his classes. Hadn't they already gone through emergency dismissals? Wasn't that right at the start of Practical Daemonology?

Dammit! He couldn't remember anything. Why did he have to be such a fuck up when it came to school?

All he could remember about succubi was the sniggering and innuendo amongst his classmates. The teachers had told them they were dangerous, but they said that about every demon. Compared to the really nasty demons that liked to set people on fire or eat them alive or set them on fire and then eat them alive, a demon that looked like a hot chick and was only really good for screwing didn't sound that threatening. They all knew, or thought they knew, why warlocks summoned succubi — there were all the rumours about the Scrote for starters — and it had been a source of much ribald amusement in the weeks following the lecture.

Of course it was funny. Men having their life essences sucked out through their cocks. It was too silly to be truly taken seriously.

Now all he could remember were the dumb jokes about succubi when he really needed to remember how the fuck to get rid of them.

Phil wasn't laughing now. He'd watched Rosa suck Jake dry in a matter of moments like a spider sucking up its prey. His own balls were boiling as they commanded his body to break down fat, muscle and tissue alike to produce ever more seed for the demons to drink.

Nudge nudge, wink wink, phwoar phwoar. What a way to go, eh?

Yeah, seemed real funny now.

This was no time to be wallowing in self pity. It might have been the defining quality of his life so far, but if he didn't shake himself out of it and remember, it was going to be the defining quality of his death as well. Did the dismissal ritual require words, gestures or both?

"I think we might have broken him," Rosa said, looking down at him.

"He just needs a little perking up," Verdé said.

She sat astride his stomach and slowly lowered her body down on his. He felt the moistness of her pussy as it kissed his navel. He looked up at the ripe globes of her tanned breasts, felt their softness as they squashed against his chest. Verdé fixed him with her glittering green eyes as she lowered her face until it hovered just above his.

Words. He had to remember the words.

He couldn't look away. Her soft green eyes swallowed him whole.

Her arms curled around his back and behind his head, drawing him into an embrace. Her lips, soft and moist, pressed against his in a lingering kiss. He was powerless as his body responded. His arms came to life. He wanted nothing more than to hold her warm body against his. Forever.

Her lips brushed down his cheeks.

"There's no need to be afraid," she murmured softly into his ear.

She brought her face back up until her wide green eyes were staring straight into his. He was lost again, pulled into and imprisoned within her glittering emerald depths. She held him there as her lips crushed down against his, harder this time, forming a seal around his mouth. Her hands gripped the back of his head.

She exhaled and fire flooded into Phil's lungs.

His eyes widened in surprise as her breath rushed through his body, scouring the lethargy and weakness from his muscles. Energy flooded back into his body as if he'd just been shocked back to life. She held him like that, her eyes open and staring deeply into his as her breath poured through his body like a crackling cloud of electricity.

She broke off the kiss with a savage smile.

"There, that's better now isn't it?" she said.

She sat back up, put a hand to her mouth, pursed her lips and blew him a kiss. Warm air scented with the fresh perfume of wild flowers formed a cloud around his head. Phil felt equally as light as Verdé took his hand and pulled him up into a sitting position.

Phil's cock stood up between his legs like a pole. Still staring intently into his eyes, Verdé lazily pumped a hand up and down his shaft, sending trembling shivers crackling across Phil's flesh.

Her breath had innervated him, but at a cost. She hadn't given him energy, but rather her magic had forced his own body into a higher gear. He was overclocked, burning up as his body ran far past the point where fatigue should have shut it down.

Rosa waited for him at the other end of the bed. Her pointed red tongue licked the corner of her moist red lips.

It was her turn.

"How would you like him?" Verdé asked her.

"Hmm," Rosa said. She went on all fours and wiggled the rounded curve of her ass in the air. "I think it's my turn to be the good hellhound," she said, looking back at them over her shoulder.

Verdé guided Phil up onto his knees. His own cock became his leash as she led him down to Rosa's waiting pussy.

"Yes," Rosa purred. "I want to try out that wing trick." Her wings flexed and shivered with anticipation.

"Copycat," Verdé said.

"I know, but the image of some little human all wrapped up in my wings and jerking helplessly into my pussy has got me all wet. It's your fault."

Juices from Rosa's vagina formed an unbroken clear strand as they drooled onto the bed. As Phil approached the lips of her vulva opened like a mouth and hungrily stretched towards his cock.

Phil tried to ignore them. Words, remember the damn words, he thought. It was in his mind somewhere, a silvery fish slipping through the recesses of his brain, too fast for him to catch.

Phil was right behind Rosa. Moist heat spilled from her gaping pussy and swirled around his erection. His body longed to thrust forward and plunge his cock into her waiting warmth.

Verdé wasn't about to let him. She still had a hand wrapped tightly around his cock and held him back, relishing the frustration building in both succubus and human as she brought their intimate parts tantalisingly close to each other without allowing them to come together.

"Such a tease," Rosa growled. She tried to rock back and swallow Phil whole, but Verdé put a hand on her ass, blocking her.

"We've already done doggy style," Verdé said. "Doing it again would be boring, especially after we promised baby warlock we'd do every filthy little thing with him." She lightly caressed Rosa's flawless ass cheeks. Her hand moved across to the base of Rosa's tail.

"There is something we haven't yet done with our baby warlock though," she lifted up Rosa's tail and flashed Phil a mischievous glance.

Rosa looked back over her shoulder, her eyes suspicious. "Don't even think about it."

Verdé smiled at Phil and lifted his erect cock up until it was pointing at the tight little bud of Rosa's anus.

Phil tried not to pay any attention. He had to remember the words to that damn spell. Memories of old lectures played on the inside of his skull. There was the Crotchety Slewis, bushy white hair sprouting in random clumps, his voice scratchy and arms waving as he got excited over one topic or another. In the memory Phil zoomed in on the Crotchety Slewis's lips. What was the senile old bastard saying? It was close. If only he could just...

Verdé's tail prodded a sensitive spot between Phil's legs and the shock jolted his hips forwards.

"Not the ass, not again," Rosa said.

Phil thrust forward. His cock encountered slight resistance at the entrance to her anal passage, but then her muscles relaxed and Phil's erection slipped deep into the soft, moist interior of her ass. She stretched to accommodate him and his cock glided effortlessly along a warm tunnel as he slid deep enough into her for her ass cheeks to press back against his body.