Blood for a Succubus Chapter 2

Jacob was surprised at how earth-like everything seemed. Mbrogia’s castle, apparently, was made of actual stone – the walls looked like stone, felt like stone, sounded like stone when he rapped on them.

“Is this… hell?” he asked.

“You ask many questions, human.” Beluriel stood at the window, looking at him.

“I’m curious. I have to say, I never really believed all of this stuff was real. I mean, Augustus –” Jacob stopped. With all the strangeness of this place, he had almost forgotten how he had come to be here.

“You are concerned that what happened to your friend will also happen to you?” Jacob backed away as the succubus approached, but she only moved to the door. “It will, but not yet. I have some errands to run. Do not leave this room, there are others here who are far less… talkative than I am.”

Jacob gulped, trying to put on a brave front. “What, you mean like this Mbrogia person? Why, what’s he like?”

All trace of amusement vanished from Beluriel’s face. “Succubi are made to interact with humans. We are given humanity, in order to seduce humanity. Mbrogia is a demon lord. His form is not something your imagination could withstand.”

And then she was gone.

For a long moment Jacob didn’t move, still trying to come to grips with his situation. He knew nothing about this place. Was there a way out? Could he escape? Or was there nothing for him to do but sit and wait for death?

All of a sudden he heard something, a soft giggle. It sounded like it was coming from just outside. Cautiously he poked his head out of the door.

The room opened up onto a long corridor, stretching off into darkness on either side. The giggle sounded again, this time a little further away. There was a playful quality to it, a teasing lilt, inviting him forward. Jacob hesitated at the door, torn. On the one hand he was afraid to test the truth of Beluriel’s parting comment. On the other hand, that playful laugh didn’t sound threatening at all, and if he could find a way out…

The giggle sounded yet again, and Jacob stepped out into the corridor. He moved forward slowly, hugging the wall of the corridor, the bare stone cool against his skin. There were no torches; the only light was a dim glow that seemed to come from nowhere in particular. He strained his eyes against the gloom, his nervousness mounting with each step he took. What sorts of monsters lurked in this darkness?

There was silence for some time, and he had almost made up his mind to turn back when he came to a door on his right. It looked like a plain wooden door, with several symbols burned into it. He raised a hand, then wavered for a moment before his curiosity got the better of him. He knocked, and the door evaporated into smoke.

“Well hello there.” The voice was female, smooth as silk, with a deep purring undertone that sent a shiver through him. The room was another bedroom, very much like the room he had just left. Lying on the bed was a succubus, almost identical in appearance to Beluriel, except that this one had longer, slightly lighter hair.

Jacob felt suddenly uncomfortable. The red-skinned demon was splayed out on the bed, her legs spread wide. One hand was fondling her large breasts, the other was between her thighs, lightly stroking. “I’m, ah, sorry,” Jacob said. “I didn’t mean to…”

The succubus made no move to halt her ministrations, but continued to regard Jacob with a slight smile on her lips. “Oh, not at all. Please, come in, sit, keep me company.” The hand on her breast moved to pat the bed next to her hips, then moved back to her other tit, flicking with a thumb at the nipple. “I’m Zephara.”

Jacob stepped over to the bed and sat down a little stiffly. Zephara’s smile widened as her eyes roamed over him. “What’s your name then?”

“Uh… Jacob.”

“Mmmm… Jacob.” Zephara closed her eyes and tilted her head back slightly as she pushed one finger into her sex. Jacob watched, mesmerized, as the slender digit swept in and out of her slit in slow, languorous strokes, then returned to stroking the smooth skin around her puffy lips.

“So what are you doing here, Jacob?”

“Uh… what?” Jacob looked up. The succubus was looking at him again, and he found himself blushing. There was something about her… he found himself nervous rather than afraid, like a teenager on a first date, wanting to make a good impression.

“There aren’t many humans around here. At least, not looking as healthy as you do.”

“Beluriel, she… brought me here.” He stumbled a little over the words, silently cursing himself.

“Did she now? How very nice of her. Lie down, Jacob.”

“What?”

Zephara let her hand drift from her breast down to his crotch and squeezed gently. “Lie down,” she said again, softly, and he found himself complying. The succubus snapped her fingers and uttered a word, and Jacob’s clothes vanished. He was lying naked on the bed, his cock at half-mast, with the gorgeous succubus sitting next to him. At the back of his mind he knew he should probably run – after what happened to Augustus! – but she was smiling down at him, and now her hand was on his cock, tickling the hot skin with her long fingernails.

“The problem with Bel,” said Zephara, her attention focused on his turgid prick, “is she doesn’t really think about what she’s doing sometimes. This is no place for a human.”

“What… what do you mean?”

The succubus gave his cock one complete stroke from tip to base and back again, squeezing the head lightly on the upstroke. Jacob gasped at her expert touch. “The door is open. You can leave any time you want. If you stay, you won’t survive.” She leaned down, looking directly at him, her lush lips pursed just inches from his cock head. “You can leave… or you can stay. It’s your choice.”

Her eyes still locked on his, she molded her lips around the crown of his cock and slowly slid it into her mouth.

Jacob groaned, his eyes wide. The sensation was unlike anything he had ever felt. Only the end of his prick was in her mouth, her lips sealed against the skin below the head, applying delightful pressure to the sensitive nerves. Her tongue flickered against the tip of his shaft, darting in under the foreskin, slipping out again. He was fully erect in an instant, arching his hips, trying to thrust further into the warmth of her mouth, but she matched his every movement, her hands pressed against the bed, his dick never more than an inch in her mouth, her gaze never leaving his. He felt a sudden pressure, and realised she was biting down slightly. She began to nip gently at his skin, each touch of her teeth sending a flare of pain and pleasure shooting up his spine.

How long this continued he did not know, but finally Zephara pulled her head back slowly, never releasing the suction, her lips sliding slowly, achingly upwards until he emerged from her mouth with a wet pop. Lifting a hand from the bed, she wrapped it around his shaft, pressing a thumb into the knot of nerves just below the tip, every move deliberate and delicate.

Jacob shuddered. Her words seemed to echo in his mind. “You can leave… or you can stay.” But however much he tried, his limbs were unresponsive – it was as though she had paralyzed him somehow, as though his brain was incapable of processing anything other than her mouth, her tongue, her fingers. He could leave, or he could stay… but she had teased him with a taste of the pleasure she could provide, and all he wanted was more.

She seemed to understand his helplessness, and smiled down at him. Her hand began stroking, in a series of lurid patterns – fast strokes that had him gasping aloud, slow strokes that made his hips buck in a desperate attempt to increase the pace. She squeezed on the down stroke, relaxed on the upstroke, twisted her hand, dug her nails into pressure points on his skin. With just that one hand she played him like an instrument, driving him closer and closer to the edge of an explosive climax, eliciting groans and growls and pleading moans until he simply lay unmoving, abandoned to the pleasure…

…and then she stopped.

Jacob threw back his head, his eyes squeezed shut. His cock was a pillar of tortured sensation: every nerve on fire, every cell throbbing with need. He could feel himself teetering on that desperate edge, the cum boiling in his balls, his entire world reduced to her hands, her lips – but the final push he needed hung constantly just out of reach.

As if through a distant haze he heard Zephara speaking, almost conversationally. “This is the best way to do it, you know,” she told him. “All your frustration and agony, it all enhances the quality. All that instability… more energy for us. I’m going to build you up until you just explode. All of your soul in one go. Isn’t that exciting?”

Her fingers resumed their exquisite pattern of teasing, those red nails tickling just under the swollen head of his cock, rubbing sweetly, backing away. She leaned forward and engulfed him in her mouth again, her tongue joining the torture, slurping agonizingly over each pulsing vein. If he could have he would have screamed himself raw, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Silently he begged for it to end…

It took him some time to notice that she had stopped. Panting, he forced his eyes open and made out blurred shapes. There were two people in the room, he realized. He could dimly hear voices.

“What do you think you’re doing? He’s mine!”

“Oh, I didn’t think you’d mind, Bel -”

“You knew blessed well what you were doing!”

“You should have known better.”

“Get out of the way. I’m taking him.”

xxxxx

 

When Jacob came to he was lying on a bed, with Beluriel looking down at him. Groaning, he shifted slightly, flexing his fingers and toes.

“What happened?”

Beluriel did not reply, her face unreadable.

“What happened to my clothes?” He waved a hand at her. “Hello? Are you all right?”

“You are taking this very well,” she said. Her voice was flat.

It was true, Jacob realized. He had been shocked initially, but now he was curiously unmoved. Perhaps all those years of Augustus’ antics had rubbed off on him, acting like a slow introduction to this strange world. Or perhaps he was still in shock, numb to any further surprises. He shrugged.

“I’ll probably freak out later.” He looked around. It seemed that he was back in Beluriel’s room. “Thank you,” he said, looking back at her. “I heard you come in at the end. If you hadn’t… thank you.”

“Enough. Are you able to walk?”

“What?”

“I want to show you something.”

xxxxx

 

The corridor opened out into a vast cavern. The walls were naked rock, swooping upwards in a gradual curve, giving the impression of a gigantic bowl. Near the centre of the space was a collection of pillars – they looked like they were made of smoke, grey and writhing. Dotted around the pillars were several small pits, out of which spilled a harsh reddish glow.

Jacob paused at the entrance, craning his head backwards. The ceiling was invisible, shrouded in darkness. “What is this place?”

“This is where your friend is.”

“What?”

Beluriel was moving towards the central columns, and he followed. As he approached, he began to notice more detail: the pillars seemed to be made out of distinct patches, individual clumps of smoke that streamed upwards with a dull roaring. And then he realized that as the clumps twisted and writhed, he could make out what looked like faces…

“What is this place?”

“This is where the souls are consumed. Your friend’s soul among them.”

Jacob peered more closely at the faces. The twisted expressions were hard to make out, but… “Are they in pain?”

“They are tortured. Tortured souls provide more energy. Tortured souls… taste better.”

“Energy,” Jacob said. “These are – were – humans.” He should have been angry, or scared – terrified. But there was only that same dull numbness. He turned to look at her. “How many of these are yours?”

She seemed to hesitate. “Your friend… your friend was my first.”

“Really? You seemed pretty confident.”

“There’s a script that we follow. It usually works.”

“I must have messed it up, asking you to bring me here.”

Beluriel nodded slowly. “This place runs on souls. We are harvesters, Jacob. We are the cattle that plough the fields to feed Mbrogia and his kind.”

Jacob had just opened his mouth to speak when a low rumbling echoed through the chamber. In a blur of movement, Beluriel darted forward and shoved him to the ground.

“Stay on your knees,” she hissed. “Close your eyes, and no matter what, don’t open them.”

“What’s happening?”

“Lord Mbrogia is coming.”

THE END OF CHAPTER TWO