Falling Snow Ch. 04

"Who is she?" He demanded.

Shyira looked at him a moment before answering, "I think you know."

"Biff's girlfriend." He said through clenched teeth.

She smiled, choosing to answer with a question. "Was she good?"

"Dammit Shyira, I'm part of the reason he's dead and I just fucked his girlfriend."

"Exactly." Shyira said with heat in her voice. "If you can't enjoy the fruits of your conquests, hear the laminations of your enemies' women, then what can you enjoy?"

Tom sputtered, exasperated by the woman in front of him. "This isn't ancient Babylon. That's not how the world works anymore, Shyira."

Shyira sat up, giving Tom a patient look, like a mother delivering a lesson to an unruly child. "The seasons change, civilizations rise and fall, but the world," she ran her fingers gently across his cheek, "the world doesn't change, baby warlock."

That's not what he wanted to hear. It was like he was sitting in the student union brooding all over again.

"That's not the type of warlock I want to be," he whispered.

Shyira looked thoughtful as she looked at him.

"You have a long way to go, there's no telling what kind of warlock you will become."

Tom thought on that long and hard before his thoughts finally drifted back down from, "what might be," back down to the present.

Shyira only stared at him, her eyes unreadable. Tom cleared his throat awkwardly.

"So what, you want Bailey to serve me like you do, like some kind of," he searched for the right word, "concubine?"

Shyira snorted. "No. If you want a mortal pet to keep around, I'll find you a better looking one."

Tom gave her a look, "She's head cheerleader."

"At a third rate state college."

That really irritated him, "You're the second person to fucking say that to me today."

"I know." She paused. "This is about something other than that little tramp isn't it?"

He got very quiet at that. He walked away from the bed, not wanting to look at her.

"Tom...what is this really about?"

"You always seem to be doing your own thing. Sometimes...sometimes I think that you're the one who acts like that master. Just once I'd like you to do what I tell you to do."

"You're so quick to say I don't follow orders. Have you ever actually given me one?"

That gave Tom pause.

"Tom, if you think I've been a bad girl, punish me. Remind me where my place is."

Tom looked at her, trying to gauge how serious she was before gathering all of his courage.

"T-then come over here and get on your knees." His voice wavered slightly, even as he tried to put steel behind his words.

Shyira rose from the bed without comment. Walking over, she sunk to her knees in from of him. She looked up at him from the floor, her lips slightly parted as she waited expectedly to see what he would do next.

He unzipped his pants, fishing out his cock in the process. With one hand he aimed it at her lips, with the other he grabbed a fit full of white hair.

"Don't suck. You aren't giving me a blow job; I'm taking your throat. Do you understand?"

Shyira opened her mouth without comment, stuck her tongue out and went "Ahhhh," like she was at the dentist.

That pissed him off more. He was supposed to be taking charge of her.

With one hand he pulled her head until the mushroom shaped head of his cock brushed past her lips and into the wet warmth of her mouth. He thrust his hips forward until Shyira's nose brushed the skin of his stomach. Once seated inside of her mouth, he grabbed a white horn in each hand and began roughly fucking her throat.

As a succubus, Shyira had perfect control over her throat muscles. She didn't make gagging sounds but the room was soon filled with the sloppy wet sounds of someone getting throat fucked.

He looked down into her eyes. The expression staring back at him was hard to place. There were touches of amusement, laced with the sensual heat of lust, but there were also other emotions swirling around the dark blue of her irises. Something darker and much harder to nail down looked back at him. It reminded him that, whatever Shyira was, she wasn't human. To break their eye contact he pushed her all the way to the base of his cock.

Fuck that felt good, he thought. With a normal girl, he could only keep her pushed down to the base for as long as her gag reflex allowed. Shyira didn't have that limitation. He wasn't even sure if she breathed air. For all he knew he could keep her pushed down to the base of his cock all night. Enjoying the wet tightness of her throat. He pulled out.

"Stick your tongue out." He commanded.

She did as she was told. Her inhumanly long tongue snaked out of her mouth. At full length, it stretched several inches longer than a human.

He took his cock and slapped it across her tongue several times. He then hit it across her cheeks. One and then the other. He expected her to be angry and was surprised to see only amusement in the deep depths of her eyes.

I guess you can't degrade someone that's the living embodiment of lust.

He slammed his cock back into her mouth as he continued to fuck her throat. Shyira's tongue didn't return to her mouth. Instead, every time he would thrust forward, she would reach out and lick his balls. He had never felt anything like it.

He was close now. He knew it and he suspected that she knew it as well. He gave her no warning as the first shot of his cum shot out and hit the back of her throat. He felt a mild drain on his energy as he came. There always was when you had sex with a succubus, but Tom could tell that Shyira wasn't trying to actively take energy from him.

He wondered why.

Shyira began to push forward, intent on taking the rest down her throat. Tom had other ideas. Even in the mist of his own pleasure he didn't forget where he was or why he was doing this. He used his hold on her pale horns to yank her off of his cock just as he shot more of his cum onto her face.

Shyira swallowed every drop he deposited in her mouth. When she was finished, she licked her lips, leaned in and kissed the head of his cock in a loving way. Her tongue lashed out and licked the last drop of his cum off the tip of his manhood. When she pulled away a single string of saliva stretched from the tip of his cock to Shyira's lips.

Contrary to a lot of myths, a succubus doesn't require her victim to come into her pussy in order to feed. Succubi can feed in any number of different ways.

Tom stared down at the mess he had just made of Shyira's face. The milky white color of his cum began to sink into her milky complexion. At this rate her skin would be flawless and clean again in no time.

"Don't absorb it." He said. "I'm not feeding bad girls who don't follow orders. Let it dry on you face."

She gave him a small girlish smile, that clearly said that she approved. "Yes Master."

Falling back on the bed, Tom's chest rose and fell quickly as he tried to catch his breath. "Twice in one night is a little much for me."

Shyira got up off the floor and joined him on the bed. She melted to his side. Her tail wrapped around his thigh as she rested her head on his chest. "I could give you something for that, we could go a few more rounds."

"Not tonight." He tried to put steel behind his words but it came off as more exhausted than anything else. Any other creature from the pit would probably see it as a sign of weakness.

Adorable, she thought. "Yes, Master."

They enjoyed several minutes of comfortable silence as they both calmed down in each other's arms.

"So," she said conversationally, "how was your day?"

Tom laughed. "More exciting than I was expecting."

"Well at least it wasn't boring." She murmured.

"I almost forgot, I might have a good opportunity to check out that botanical garden we saw."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, we're having a biology lab their next week."

Shyira was silent for several seconds.

"You still need to take combat lesson. This weekend sounds like a good opportunity." Shyira touched the bruise on the side of Tom's cheek. "It will also provide a good opportunity to come to an understanding with Aresta."

Tom didn't answer. Shyira could tell that he was apprehensive about the training.

"OK." He said at last.

Sometime later Tom had fallen into a deep, restful sleep. The kind of sleep that only comes to the exhausted or the innocent. Shyira still wasn't sure which category Tom fell into. She could see a spark of something in his actions, especially when he was angry, but he was still coming to terms with this new life. Yet when he was angry, Shyira closed her eyes as she remembered their earlier encounter. She shuddered at the memory.

Oh, how she loved a master who knew how to treat a succubus.

She quietly closed the bedroom door and walked down the hallway. Her steps were as silent as a fox on the cheap carpet as she entered the room at the end of the hallway. What she found certainly raised an eyebrow. Aresta sat crossed legged on the bed, waiting for her. The stiff corpse of a man of midlife was propped up against the wall. His head was turned 180 degrees away from her.

Walking over to the corpse, she used one elegant foot to rotate the head until she could see his face. A deep grinding sound of bone on bone filled the room as she used her inhuman strength to accomplish her task.

She looked at the face of the man in front of her. When she spoke, her voice was detached and cold, "You should be more careful with your men, someday they may be scarce."

"Not today, I think." Aresta said.

She gave Aresta a sharp look, "Did you at least learn something useful before killing him?"

"Yes."

Shyira was in no mood to play 20 questions. She stood silently staring at Aresta, waiting for an answer like a general would await a report from a solider.

Aresta gave into the weight of her stare, she cast her eyes downward in submission, "We need to keep a closer eye on the boy."

"Your master." She pointed out.

"Right," Aresta said, rolling her eyes.

Shyira held her gaze for several seconds hard seconds, "Why?"

"The hunters have an operational presence on campus. That cop was one of them."

"So you decided to kill him?" Shyira raised one delicate eyebrow

"No I-"

"Because I believe your orders were to move suspicion away from Tom, not create more of it," Shyira said in a harsh whisper.

"I tried-"

"You tried?! You tried what? We could have watched him or ensnared his mind or done a hundred other things that didn't involve making him disappear."

Aresta was perfectly still, her eyes downcast, like a single movement might evoke more of her anger. Shyira let out a deep sigh.

"Well, let's hope you haven't completely buggered this up."

****

Dean Henry Edwards walked into the campus police stations. It was late. His own offices were all but shut down for the night. The police station, on the other hand, was as busy as it ever was on a weekend.

Drunk, partially dressed coeds sat handcuffed to a row of seats along the wall. The receptionist was having a harried conversation with an older couple at the front desk, while a pair of officers were seconds away from pulling tasers on a struggling suspect.

Just another Saturday night.

He rode the elevator up to the second floor, intent on having a word with the chief of police. He sensed it the moment he stepped off the elevator. The subtle sense of recently used magic permeated the air.

He turned away from the direction of the police chief's office and down the narrow hallways that led towards the modest offices used by the detectives. His search led him to the office of one Detective Palmer. It was a name he thought he recognized.

Low level member of the order? He thought.

He reached up and knocked on the door. The moment his hand came in contact with the well-worn wood of the door he felt it. There was dark magic present in the next room.

He knocked harder on the door. Buying himself a moment to gather his magic around him. A giggle of the hand showed that the door was unlocked.

He thought he heard someone begin to cry out.

Steeling himself for what he might find on the other side, he threw open the door and barged into the room. He took in a sharp inhale of breath. The room reeked of magic and fear. Signs of violence littered the room. A desk sat overturned along the side of the room. Dried blood caked the floor. The sticky sweet smell of burned flesh assaulted his nostrils, threatening to empty his stomach onto the floor.

He heard a large movement of air coming from just outside. Running to the open window, he could just make out the simmering image of a veil being cast in the distance.

****

I'm without an editor for this chapter. So I apologize if the grammar and punctuation are a little rough.

Chapter 5 has been started, but that doesn't really mean much, as I only write when I'm feeling inspired. No promises but it should hopefully be a shorter wait than the wait for this chapter. I'm also planning a little short story for Halloween so expect that sometime during October.

Hope you all enjoyed it. I read all comments, both public and private, even if I'm not the best at responding. So let me know what you think. -NP