Chapter 9: Cabin in the Woods

The sun was just beginning to rise by the time the party finally came across the hunting cabin. Calling it rustic would have been an understatement, it was obviously quite old and fairly dilapidated, the forest slowly encroaching on the land that had been cleared around it. It was a squat building made from wooden paneling rather than the logs that he had expected. It had a roof and a porch, a door, and a few windows with glass too dirty to see through. Clearly, the park services didn’t pay much mind to maintaining these buildings during the off-seasons.

The Seirim waited at the edge of the clearing as he approached, not wanting to cause alarm on the off-chance that someone was squatting here. He rapped on the door, wincing as he realized that he was knocking with his swollen knuckles. He switched hands and tried again, but there was no reply.

He walked around to the side of the cabin and pressed his face up against the glass, blocking the light of the rising sun with his hands as he tried to see inside, but it was to no avail. Shrugging in the direction of the Seirim, he made his way back to the front door and tried to force it. It was locked of course.

Ryan scratched his chin for a moment, then took a step back, raising his foot and bringing it down hard on the door. He had seen this before in movies, you were supposed to kick the door beside the lock to break the mechanism. After a few kicks and no results he began to tire, but Nahash was already making her way over to him. She seemed to have shaken off her limp during their hike.

She copied him, slamming her powerful leg into the door, and it buckled. With a second kick of her hoof, it swung open, and Ryan drew his gun as he stepped over the threshold.

“Anybody here?” he asked. “Park Rangers!” he added, realizing that he’d probably need a good excuse for having a handgun if there was indeed anyone living here. There were no replies, and so he stowed his gun in his waistband, waving in Nahash. She had to duck to fit inside, the ceiling was barely seven feet, and her sisters followed behind her.

Ryan examined the cabin as the Seirim sat nearby. It wasn’t very large. There was a living room with a small wood fire that doubled as a stove, the metal pipe that served as a chimney vanishing into the ceiling. There were a few musty chairs and rugs scattered about, and the room was decorated with stuffed deer heads mounted on plaques, their antlers blanketed in cobwebs. Towards the back of the building were a bathroom and a bedroom, with perhaps enough overall living space to serve a party of three or four hunters during their downtime. It was no vacation home, it was strictly functional.

He suddenly realized how tired he was, the bed calling to him like a siren. Nahash appeared at the doorway behind him, leaning down to see inside.

“You should get some sleep,” she said, no doubt sensing how exhausted he was. “We will stand guard and keep watch for Haures.”

“We can’t spare the time,” Ryan replied reluctantly. “As soon as they learn about what went down at the grove, they’ll probably send reinforcements, and a hunting cabin is an obvious hiding spot. We need to think about what we’re going to do next. I have chalk, and if we clear the floor in the living room, I’ll probably be able to draw a summoning circle. I have some ammunition left in this handgun, and I still have that G-22 that I recovered from the apartment in my bag. If we can figure out a way to-”

Nahash strode across the room and turned him around, cupping his face in her hands and leaning down to kiss him. His rambling was silenced as her sinuous tongue pushed into his mouth, so long and thick that he could scarcely accommodate it. His cheeks bulged outwards as she tasted their inner surface, teasing him with her gentle strokes, drawing slow shapes with her impossibly dexterous organ. Her embrace was so slippery and wet, her metallic flavor pricking his tongue, her puffy lips pressing against his as he leaned into her. Their tongues entwined, her warm flesh slick with her saliva is it roved and coiled, her familiar scent filling his nose.

She smelled of damp earth, of dew-soaked grass and wildflowers, as if all the scents of a lush and fertile forest had seeped into her curly wool. He felt the tension melt out of his body, the rapid beating of his heart slowing, and he couldn’t help but sink his fingers into the soft meat of her hips.

She walked him backwards, dragging out her sordid kiss as she went, until Ryan felt the bedframe bump against the back of his legs. Nahash sat him on the mattress, gently stroking his cheek with her thumb as she kept him locked in her embrace, her agile tongue doing things to him that no human would have been capable of. It was so deft and practiced, the Seirim could turn a simple display of affection into a captivating form of art, every nimble glance of her flexible organ sending a pleasant shiver down his spine. She licked the roof of his mouth, probed the back of his throat with its tapered tip, Ryan’s eyes rolling back into his head.

She drew back with a smack, cupping his face as he stared up at her, stupefied.

“Sleep,” she insisted, “you’ll be of no use to anyone if you’re too tired to think straight.”

“A-Alright,” he mumbled. He glanced behind her at her sisters, who were peeking around the door frame and snickering to one another. Nahash placed a hand on his chest and gently pushed him down onto the bed, Ryan unable to take his eyes off her rolling hips as she left the room, closing the bedroom door behind her with a click.

He exhaled, lying back and staring at the cobwebs on the ceiling. The sheets were musty and dirty, but just having something soft beneath him felt like a luxury right now. He felt like his limbs were being weighed down with lead weights, and his eyes were itchy, a yawn overpowering him as his mind began to drift. He was so exhausted by the day’s events that he didn’t even have to try, a deep and dreamless sleep falling over him like a warm blanket.

Ryan chalked in the finishing touches, then stood and took a few steps back, checking the sigils and runes that were described in the Lesser Key to make sure that he had transcribed everything accurately. They had pushed all of the furniture aside and had removed all of the rugs, there had been enough dust in those alone to provoke coughing fits for the rest of the day, but they had cleared a space of hardwood that was just large enough to fit a summoning circle. It was a little on the small side. The Lemegeton specified that nine feet was necessary, but he had been short of that limit in his apartment too, and nothing bad had happened as a result. It had taken a couple of hours, but making sure that all of the symbols and ancient texts were correct was the easy part, he just had to be thorough about it.

Fortunately, they had been able to find plenty of candles in the shack, with no electricity they were the only source of light. There was no incense, however. The Seirim no longer had the stores of magick to perform feats like summoning wildlife or conjuring items. There was running water, probably hooked up to a tank or a well, and Ryan had been able to shower. There was no soap, but it had felt great to just to get all the sweat and dirt off his skin, and it was better than nothing.

He still had all of his wards, and his wand was set on a nearby table, along with his copy of the Lesser Key. The page was open on the thirty-third Goetic demon, Gaap, who was said to be able to carry and re-carry men very speedily from one Kingdom to another. That sounded an awful lot like teleportation to Ryan. It might be the only way to reach the hidden Antarctic base without having to physically travel there, which was well beyond his means to do.

“Are you sure about this, Ryan?” Nahash asked. She was making no attempt to conceal her concern. “Demons treat only with humans, and not with other supernatural entities. The covenant that they struck was with Solomon and all like him. Gaap will not allow me, nor any of my sisters to travel with you. Without a surplus of magick we cannot follow you under our own power.”

“I understand,” Ryan replied. “Besides, I’m not going to let you guys risk your lives on my behalf any longer. This is my mess, I have to clean it up. If it wasn’t for me, none of this would have happened, and all of your sisters would be safe.”

“But without you, the Seirim would not be free,” Nahash countered. “That freedom is more than worth the price. Remember what I have been trying to impress upon you, the importance of living life from moment to moment, of appreciating every second that you’re given? Every second that we have spent filling our lungs with fresh air, feeling the wind in our wool and the sun on our skin, is worth a thousand years of drifting aimlessly in the immaterium.”

“I remember,” he said. “Just trust me, I have a plan...”

“And what plan is that?” Nahash asked skeptically. “You will employ this demon to carry you into the middle of a fortified stronghold, you’ll somehow find this Grand Master and kill him with your weapon, all while evading Haures and any other forces that they might have under their command? How do you intend to pay the demon? Surely not with sexual energy? Gaap is a Mighty Prince of Hell, he will ask a high price.”

Ryan hadn’t told her all the details of his plan yet, because he knew that she wouldn’t like it. It was extreme, foolhardy even, but it was the only way to set things right.

“I’m no longer a novice,” he said as he gave her a wink, “I got this.”

“Consider this, Ryan,” Nahash pleaded. “If you should breach their stronghold alone, you may be able to use the powers that Vapula bestowed upon you to fight off mortal adversaries, but you will be next to useless against demonic foes. Let me journey with you, let me protect you. I cannot stand the thought of you going into battle alone. If some misfortune should befall you and you should die while I remain, it would be a fate worse than any that I can imagine.”

Her heartfelt request got through to him, he couldn’t stand seeing her upset.

“Alright, what do you propose? Didn’t you say that you lacked the energy to travel there under your own power?”

She gestured to the obsidian ring on his finger, Azazel’s gift.

“I am bound to your ring. Wherever you go in the world, as long as you wear it, I will always find you. I am drawn to it, it acts as a gateway, almost like a summoning circle in its own right. The same is not true for my sisters, but if you should travel to the hidden stronghold, then I will be able to follow. Provided that I have enough energy to manifest, of course.”

“And the only way to generate energy for you in our current situation is to...”

“Delay your summoning by just a few hours,” she insisted, “lie with me and provide me with the energy that I need to remain at your side. I know that time is limited and that our refuge might be discovered at any moment, but your chances of success will only improve if you bring me with you. I cannot stay here and do nothing while you risk your life, it would drive me mad with worry.”

He considered for a moment, scratching his now stubbly chin as he stared into the summoning circle. She was right of course, they could accomplish more together than he could on his own, even if it would put Nahash in harm’s way. He had no idea what he might encounter inside the Mason base. Perhaps he could ask that of Gaap too, it was written that the demon had the power of prescience. Considering the valuable possession that he was going to put on the line in order to buy the demon’s help, he doubted that it would refuse his request.

Besides, if his little raid ended badly, then this might be his last day on Earth. Spending some of it in the company of the person that he loved was an attractive prospect. There had been so little time for romance recently, so few quiet moments for them to share.

Nahash knew what his decision was before he had spoken a word, she could sense his heightened mood, the fresh wave of anticipation that washed over him. She smiled, her amber eyes seeming to glow, and reached down to take his hand.

“Better we do it soon,” she cooed, “time is wasting.”

Her sisters looked on jealously as she led him to the bedroom, pulling Ryan inside and closing the door behind her, making a point to her fellow Seirim that they should not interfere. He sat on the edge of the bed as Nahash stood before him, his eyes playing over her body as his heart began to quicken.

He drank in the smooth curves of her voluptuous figure, the way that her wide hips flared and then pinched into an hourglass waist. The way that her belly had that subtle paunch to it, just defined enough to make her look soft and fertile, her fat distributed to all of the right places. Her round thighs were almost the width of his torso, her pale, almost ashen skin as smooth as glass. Her long legs tapered into cloven hooves, her soft wool beginning below her knees. That same snow-white fleece was present on her forearms, along with her neck and head, the collar of fluffy fur cascading down a ways between her shapely boobs and over her shoulders. The pair of heavy breasts hung from her chest, as large as his head, so perfectly rounded that they begged to be cupped in his hands. They looked so firm and pert despite their immense size, but he knew from experience that her flesh would spill between his fingers like warm dough, as malleable as melting butter.

“I don’t have any magick left,” she said, “I won’t be able to give it the usual flair. At least not right now.”

“I don’t love you because you can conjure flowers and make things taste like strawberries,” he laughed.

She climbed up onto the bed, the frame creaking ominously and the springs squealing as she put her weight on it. It was only a single bed, the mattress was tiny to her, more the size of a yoga mat.

“You’ve taken quite a beating over the last few days,” she said, “should I be more gentle than usual?”

“I’ll survive.”

Ryan kicked off his shoes and shed his jacket, beginning to unbutton his shirt as Nahash leaned forward to take off his pants. They discarded his clothes on the floor beside the bed and Nahash straddled him, her pale skin lit by what little sunlight made it through the grimy window that was situated in the wall above the headboard.

After what had happened over the last few days, a sexual encounter that he actually anticipated and wanted to take part in was almost a foreign concept. He and Nahash made love most nights, both out of a mutual desire and as a way to keep her supplied with ample energy. Few demons had a source on tap, and it was one of the reasons that the Seirim was so uncommonly powerful, able to hold her own even against demons like Haures, at least for a time.

They hadn’t had an opportunity to indulge since they had fled from the apartment and they had been able to share so few quiet moments together. As she kneeled atop him, her body gleaming in the sunlight like a statue of Venus hewn from white marble, he realized that he ached for her. He was already erect, his member throbbing as it stood in the air as if reaching out towards her.

Nahash reached down and brushed it with her fingers, gazing down at him with her amber eyes and smiling at his reaction as he twitched.

“You are still so young,” she chuckled, “you have such stamina. Even after everything that Vapula and Gamori put you through, you still stand tall and strong. I would not have blamed you if you had abstained from lovemaking for a whole month, yet here we are...”

“It would take an army of horny demons to keep me away from you,” he said, and she laughed at his retort.

“This shack makes for a poor love nest, but I believe I can keep you distracted from the cobwebs and the grime.”

She leaned down towards him, subjecting him to another kiss, this one more invasive and sensual than the last. It was designed to excite, to tease rather than to placate, her tongue flicking and coiling inside his mouth. She held his member in her hand all the while, letting it rest gently in her palm, seeming to take great pleasure in the way that it jumped and pulsed with every stroke of her skilled tongue.

To call it a kiss would be misleading, it was a sex act in its own right, lurid and wanton. Her long organ was so flexible and dexterous, she had such minute control over it, more like a tentacle than a tongue in that regard. His mouth was full of movement, her slimy, wet muscle sliding against every surface. She licked the roof of his mouth, glanced his inner cheeks, coiled her prehensile organ around his own and encompassing it entirely. It was like slimy velvet, warm and irresistible.

Usually when she kissed him, she used some of her magic to alter her taste. She did the same when he went down on her, making her fluids taste like all the fruits of paradise, sweet and alluring. She was so drained of energy now that she couldn’t do even that much. The copper flavor of her saliva was jarring at first, unfamiliar, but he soon began to enjoy it.

This was Nahash in her natural state, as she really was, with no Seirim magick to cloud his senses.

He pushed back against her, doing his utmost to meet her sordid embrace, even if she had a clear foot of tongue over him. He licked and mouthed, their organs wrestling like a pair of mating snakes, winding around one another as their mingling saliva made their battle wonderfully slippery.

The Seirim pulled back, letting her tongue slowly slide out of his mouth, ensuring that he could appreciate its length. When the tapered tip left his lips, it remained joined to them by a fat strand of saliva, which broke and fell to his chest as she sat upright.

His member throbbed between her fingers, Nahash looking down at it covetously, her primal lust on display. She was an avatar of nature, and nature’s chief concern was reproduction. She was an unabashedly sexual being, as unashamed of her sexual proclivities as she was of her nakedness. Just as the fullness of her figure proclaimed her fertility, so too did her salacious expression betray her hunger, the Satyr wetting her lips with her pink tongue she positioned herself on top of him.

She angled his member towards her pink labia, already swollen and dripping with her feminine nectar, her anticipation palpable as her heavy breasts wobbled with her every movement.

“Wait,” Ryan gasped, Nahash looking down at him in confusion. “I’ve spent enough time on my back lately, I want to be on top.”

“Planning to ravish me?” she asked with a smirk, sliding off him and standing beside the bed. After some shuffling around, they eventually settled with Nahash sitting at the top of the bed, her back against the wall and her legs trailing off the sides of the mattress. It really was small for her, it looked about the size of a pool float, but now Ryan could dictate their pace.

He kneeled in front of her, now at about head height due to her sitting position, and reached out to cup her face in his hands. He stroked her neck, running his fingers through her feathery wool, combing it as she began to breathe more heavily. He slid a hand up her cheek, reaching her sheep-like ear and rolling the membrane between his thumb and forefinger, pressing his lips against hers. They were so full and smooth, her tongue snaking out to meet his own as he delivered a slower and more measured kiss. Sparks of pleasure shot down his spine as they embraced, her long lashes fluttering, every gentle stroke and restrained lick eliciting a low moan from his partner.

“What are you doing?” Nahash giggled as he pulled away, leaning her head into his hand as he stroked her ear and gazing at him with her yellow eyes. “I’m supposed to be pleasuring you, not the other way around. This won’t generate any extra energy for me, you know...”

“I find pleasure in it,” he said, “if the goal is to get me off then this is the best way to go about it.”

“If you insist,” she replied with a smirk, chewing on the end of one of her claw-like nails as she watched him roam lower.

He came face to face with her breasts, each one voluminous enough that he could have fit his head inside with room to spare. He took handfuls of them, kneading and squeezing like he was shaping fresh dough, her breathing growing heavier and her chest heaving as he explored her. Her skin was like the finest silk, so smooth that his digits seemed to glide across it without resistance, her porcelain complexion somehow making her appear more delicate than he knew her to be.

Her boobs were as large as the backpack that he had been lugging around with him, so heavy that it took some effort to lift one of them. He cupped them in his palms, weighing them, the supple fat spilling around his hands and through his fingers as though they were sculpted from melting wax. He sank his digits up to knuckle in her yielding flesh, seeking out the firm breast tissue beneath, his partner shivering and cooing when he found it.

When he released them, they bounced gently, like a plate of jello that had been shaped into the most sumptuous of forms. They would have been a parody of femininity of a woman of normal stature, but despite their exaggerated size, they seemed appropriate on Nahash. She was large enough, her voluptuous figure full enough that they complimented her inviting body, only one of many features that seemed to draw his gaze with an almost magnetic power.

Her pink nipples stood out against her pallid skin, engorged with excitement, begging to be touched. He pinched one of them between his fingers, watching Nahash’s massive body tremble, her seductive sigh encouraging him. He manhandled one of the meaty globes, bringing it closer and pressing his lips around the firm protrusion. He sucked it into his mouth, sealing his lips around it and drawing on it, the Satyr cooing happily as she felt his tongue lash against her sensitive anatomy. Ryan made slow circles, pinching it between his lips and teeth, sucking and teasing as she arched her spine towards him.

“You’re being so aggressive today,” she mumbled, sighing appreciatively as he dragged his tongue across her nipple.

“I’m just taking your advice,” he said after letting her nipple slip out of his mouth, “I’m making the most of every second that I’ve got.”

“Oh, is that what you’re doing?”

He released her breast and let it fall heavily, watching it wobble as it settled, then resumed his journey downwards. He traced the wide curve of her hips with his hands, delving his fingers into her soft flesh, leaning in to kiss her belly and feeling her twitch as he tickled her. She had a wonderful plumpness to her, the subtle paunch of her stomach just enough to give her some pleasant cushion. He resisted the urge to wrap his arms around her waist and sink his face into it, instead groping her round thighs as his lips crawled towards her loins.

Her legs were parted wide due to her odd position, and he stroked her inner thighs with his fingertips, as smooth as glass and as soft as velvet. Beneath the layer of fat was firm muscle, hard like rubber, housing all of the brawn that she needed to propel her heavy body with the ease and grace that she did. He kissed her thigh, feeling her squirm, glancing up to see her peering down at him over the twin mounds of her breasts.

“Wait, Ryan,” she mumbled. “I don’t have any magick to spare, I won’t taste like I usually do...”

“You think that I won’t enjoy hearing you moan and watching you squirm because you don’t taste like passion fruit?”

She seemed flustered by his comment, her eyelids fluttering as he parted her puffy labia with his fingers. Her lips were flushed pink and swollen with excitement, contrasting against the porcelain skin that surrounded them, a strand of her juices linking them as he splayed them open. Her vulva glistened, her flesh warm and wet, her feminine scent reaching his nose.

The Seirim’s organs resembled those of human women closely, if not a little larger in size. He was intimately familiar with Nahash’s body, he had done this innumerable times, but never without the mind-bending influence of her magick. He was oddly excited by the prospect, they had never made love before without Nahash having complete control over his senses. It would be a novel experience, if only this once...

He leaned down and dragged his tongue between her lips, her delicate folds slick with her juices. He felt her massive body shudder at his touch, her long spine arching as he reached the top and glanced her clitoris. When he pulled away, a film of her sticky fluids clung to his tongue, linked to her loins by a sagging web of clear slime. She tasted ... sour, but not unpleasantly so. This was her natural flavor, or at least as natural as a body that had been conjured by magick could be.

Ryan was so aroused at that point that he would not have relented regardless of her taste, plunging back in as Nahash cooed softly. He felt her fingers delve into his hair as licked and teased, the giant Seirim’s legs beginning to tremble about his face. They were so cool against his red cheeks, and he couldn’t resist rubbing them against her, the sensitive skin of her inner thighs as smooth and as soft as the most luxurious satin. He paused his licking to plant a sucking kiss on her hip, her mammoth body twitching as he pulled away to leave a pink love bite. He could taste the salt on her skin, feel the warmth of her body radiating outwards like a space heater.

She was rolling her wide hips instinctively, as if subconsciously trying to fuck his face. Her rhythm was slow and subtle, but noticeable. He watched her body move for a moment, her toned muscles shifting and flexing beneath her cushiony layer of fat, her breasts swaying and bouncing as her slow dance dragged on. It was hypnotic, and tearing his eyes away from her lush body was a challenge.

Ryan moved back down towards her aching nethers, kissing and licking as he went, feeling her shiver and hearing her breathing grow ragged as he neared her loins. He paused there for a moment, his lips hovering an inch away from her sodden flesh, even his breath enough to make the Satyr gasp.

He leaned back in and delivered a flurry of quick licks and glances, her grip on his hair tightening. Her tugging stung his scalp, but he enjoyed the sensation, her grip seemed proportionate to her mounting pleasure. He painted every crease and fold of her burning womanhood with his tongue, her flesh almost warm enough to scald him. He mouthed and kissed, playing his lips over her tender vulva, drawing shapes with the tip of his tongue. He afforded her the same passion and intimacy that he would have during a deep and sensual kiss, her muscles tensing with every teasing stroke of his tongue, the thrusting of her hips growing faster as her slick juices dripped from his chin in thick ropes.

Something primal had come over him. Perhaps it was the lack of Seirim magick dulling his mind, but he felt so wanton, carnal.

Moving lower now, he circled her opening, feeling her muscles tense as it twitched and leaked in invitation. He slipped the tip of his tongue inside her and immediately he felt her muscles seize around him like a fist gloved in damp silk. Despite her stature, she was almost painfully tight. Her passage gripped him like a vice as it tried to suck him deeper, but the combination of her juices and his drool made their contact too slippery for her to find purchase. She was almost pulsating, her powerful pelvic floor muscles undulating and rippling beyond the walls of velvet flesh, her passage begging to be filled by something larger than a mere tongue.

He withdrew and resumed his ardent licking, raking his organ across her sensitive vulva, the Seirim leaning against the wall behind her and closing her eyes as she enjoyed his sordid attentions. Every stroke was met with an appreciative sigh or a low whine, his oversized partner guiding him as she maintained her hold on his hair. He loved to see her like this, teetering on the brink, so close to losing control of her faculties and succumbing to her more base desires. She could be so passionate and unashamed sometimes that it was almost alarming, her resemblance to an animal not merely confined to her outward appearance. She could rut like a beast, or she could make tender love to him like he was the most fragile thing in the world. That duality was what made her so exciting and unpredictable.

A tremor spread through her body as he pressed a finger up against her winking entrance, making her wait for it, her anticipation palpable. When she was sufficiently frustrated, he relented, slowly sliding his digit up to the knuckle inside her. His skin glided against her soaking insides, so slippery that there was almost no friction, and then her muscles closed around him like he had sprung a trap.

Her walls molded around his finger like a second skin, crushing him with an almost painful ferocity, massaging the length of his digit. He could feel the rings of muscle as they slid from the base to the tip, milking his finger as if her body couldn’t tell it apart from a cock, squeezing and kneading with incredible pressure. It might have been uncomfortable was it not for her exquisite texture, her hot, slippery insides like silk soaked in lubricating jelly as they sucked at him like a mouth. The mere thought of sheathing his member inside her was enough to make his erection surge, bouncing in the air as it throbbed at the prospect.