Goetic Justice 2

Someone pressed the clay cup against his lips, and he allowed the warm liquid to pour into his mouth. It tasted wonderful, ambrosial, the soupy concoction setting his nerves aflame with the flavors of sweet berries and tangy fruits. He felt it slide down his throat, pooling in his belly as it warmed him from the inside.

One of the blurry figures leaned in to whisper in his ear, her musical voice husky and sensual.

"Isn't it nice to be here with us? Why don't you lie down, are you not exhausted from your ordeal?"

Now that she mentioned it, he was exhausted. His muscles began to ache as a sudden fatigue swept over him such that he couldn't even muster the strength to sit upright. He lay back, finding the soft lap of a Seirim waiting for him, her hands cradling his head as it sank into her doughy thighs. She stroked his cheeks, her palms as soft as silk, so impossibly gentle and caring. She loomed over him, her features fuzzy and out of focus, her glowing eyes standing out against the dark silhouette.

Someone was sliding their hands beneath his shirt, caressing his belly and chest with their dull claws, the sensation sending a pleasant shiver rolling up his spine.

"W-Wait," he mumbled, "I have to wait for Nahash..."

"Our sister will find you again in time," one of them whispered, "for now let us soothe you."

Yes, soothing, that sounded nice. Another wave of confusion rolled over him, his mind becoming more and more clouded. It was hard to think, hard to concentrate on anything. He couldn't really remember where he was or what he had been doing anymore. When he tried to call up the memories, they slipped through his fingers like sand.

He felt someone grab his wrist, bringing his hand towards them and pressing it against what felt like a yielding globe of flesh. It was a breast, the skin as smooth as glass and warm to the touch, his fingers sinking deep into the fat as a hard nipple pricked his palm.

Someone nibbled his ear softly, catching it between their teeth, their warm breath washing over him. Another kissed his neck, mouthing gently as his spine arched off the comfortable cushions. They were closing in around him, cocooning him in burnished skin and curly wool. A hand brushed the firmness that was rising beneath his pants, teasing it through the fabric, a burst of tingling pleasure coursing through him as they squeezed.

Something warm and wet glanced his cheek, a tongue, long and sinuous. It left a smear of saliva, and he blinked through his clouded vision to see that one of the figures had leaned in close. Her soft, puffy lips pressed against his, delivering a tentative peck. Her taste lingered, it was mouth-watering, as if she was wearing lip balm the flavor of passion fruit. She hovered there, waiting, Ryan unable to help himself as he leaned forward in search of more.

He heard chuckling and seductive mumbling, the words somehow clear in their lurid intent despite how hard it was to make them out. He found those exquisite lips again, this time parting his own as he embraced the Seirim, feeling her tapered tongue slip into his mouth. Their organs entwined, more of that wonderful taste filling his head, her slippery tongue coiling around his own with a toe-curling finesse. Her saliva was syrupy and sweet, almost as if she was sharing a mouthful of honey with him, her tongue gliding across his inner cheeks and probing his throat as it explored him.

Despite Ryan being locked in a sordid embrace, her sisters did not relent, sucking at his ears and lightly biting his exposed neck and shoulders. There were so many of them, his eyelids fluttering as he was assailed by a storm of sensation, setting his nerves alight as their kissing and fawning chipped away at his resolve.

He had been resisting, hadn't he? Why? He couldn't remember anymore. What might compel him to refuse this warmth and pleasure? He felt drunk, as if in a stupor, the whole affair had an oddly dreamlike quality.

The Seirim broke off her salacious kiss, a foot of her pink, slippery tongue sliding out of his head along with a strand of saliva. She nuzzled, brushing her head against his face like a cat, sighing and humming contentedly. The others seemed to take that as some kind of signal, and he felt oversized hands fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. They exposed his chest to the frigid air, but soon their warm digits were all over him, tracing the contours of his body as they explored. He could feel every glance and stroke, it was maddening, as if a dozen masseuses were fighting for space.

They crawled slowly lower, working their way towards his belt line. An impulse pierced the numbing haze that was hanging over his brain, telling him that he should stop them. Why? It would feel good, wouldn't it? He tried to grasp the memories associated with that impulse, but they were so intangible, ephemeral. In a moment it was gone again.

The group of Seirim succeeded in freeing him from the confines of his clothes, his member bouncing free into the cold air, pulsing in time with the pounding of his heart as their golden eyes turned on it greedily. He was still so comfortable, the pillows beneath his body made him feel like he was floating on a cloud. The luxurious cushion of the thighs that were supporting his head entranced him, as soft as marshmallows, lulling him into a deep relaxation.

"Relax," one of them whispered in her comely voice, "let us take care of you."

It was so damned cold, he wanted nothing more than to plunge his growing erection into something warm. As if sensing his desire one of them leaned down, breathing hot air on its sensitive tip and making him throb in anticipation. It was killing him, he had never felt so needy before...

"Poor boy," one of them whispered, pausing to nibble his earlobe. "We will ease your tension."

He was so far gone, they were toying with his senses and emotions like he was no more than a puppet on a string. He was aware of it on some level, dull and distant, but he couldn't muster enough sense to fight it. Another pair of soft lips locked him in a lascivious kiss, smacking wetly, the Seirim moaning quietly as she filled his mouth. He lapsed again, forgetting why he was supposed to be resisting, overcome by the flurry of licks from her skilled tongue.

He heard a sound like two tree branches being knocked together, looking down as the Seirim released him from her embrace, seeing that the clattering was coming from two Satyrs locking horns above his groin. They seemed to be fighting over who got to go first, battling one another like a pair of stags vying for the right to mate.

The loser backed off, and the winner took his shaft in her hand triumphantly, her warmth penetrating him to the core. He couldn't help but loose a low moan, much to the excitement of the Satyrs, their ovine ears twitching at the sound and their glowing eyes brightening. She began to stroke, slowly at first, gliding her fingers up and down his length as he twitched and writhed in her sister's cushy lap. She still held his head in her hands, stroking his hair, the sensations complementing one another wonderfully.

Ryan lurched as he felt a pair of large, soft lips kiss the tip of his member, the sensation shooting up through his body like an electric shock. They were so warm and smooth, sliding over his glans and encompassing it, sucking gently as he writhed in the clutches of the demons. Her sisters held him down, gently but securely, their hands pinning his wrists and ankles to the silken cushions. The one that was cradling his head continued her stroking, placating, as if trying to keep him calm.

He loosed a gasp as he felt the Seirim's long, dexterous tongue curl around his shaft like a snake. It wound around his length, her slick, smooth flesh like wet silk as it set his nerves on fire with pleasure. She had such fine control over it, flexing the damp muscle to squeeze and stroke with all the finesse of a hand.

Keeping her lips sealed around the head, she used the length of her tongue to lick and tease, the long organ moving almost independently. It was like an animal in its own right. Ryan writhed and groaned, his throbbing erection trapped inside a prison made of slimy flesh, its warmth contrasting starkly with the cold air. Her viscous saliva rolled down his member in globs, making their contact wonderfully slippery and wet.

The Seirim was greedy, eager, her pace almost inconsiderate as she sucked and licked ardently. She was like a vacuum cleaner, drawing him into her mouth with a powerful suction as if trying to tear off his member at the root. She slid her lips slowly down his shaft, taking him deeper into her mouth, the pressure making his erection ache as it jumped and pulsed against her tight cheeks. The coiling of her obscene tongue never relented, wringing him in its tight grasp, dragging from the base to the tip as she milked him like a cow.

It was so intense that it very nearly hurt, but not quite, his blood pooling in his member to make it throb in her mouth. A bead of precome welled at the tip, and she lapped at it eagerly, as if his fluids were some kind of rare and delicious liqueur. The taste seemed to encourage her, and she gripped the base of his shaft in both hands, holding him as if fearing that he might escape her grasp. The flurry of licks grew even faster and harsher, his toes curling as she tormented him.

Far from being a sex act performed solely for his benefit by a considerate lover, she was working him over like a machine, intent on finishing him as quickly as possible. She kneaded and squeezed, the satin texture of her inner cheeks sliding against his tender skin where it wasn't covered by her tongue, all of the sensations combining to wipe his mind clean of anything but his animal lust. He didn't have time to ponder, he couldn't muster the brain power to think about his situation. All of his faculties were occupied by the swells of burning pleasure that were making him their plaything.

Her soft, puffy lips finally kissed his belly, the Satyr taking him all the way into her mouth. His glans bumped against the back of her throat, his member bending slightly as she drew him deeper, the muscles of her gullet spasming and contracting as she swallowed around it. Her tongue constricted him like an angry anaconda, her soft cheeks closing around his shaft as she applied more suction.

Ryan had never experienced such a sensation before, a pleasure so completely out of his control, indifferent to his limitations and his desires. The Seirim were having their way with him, and he was merely along for the ride. Again something from the dark recesses of his brain told him that this wasn't right, that he should stop them, but it was quickly drowned out by a chorus of licks and kisses.

The Seirim whose lap his head was resting on brought her face down close to his, nuzzling his cheek with her goat-like nose as if she had sensed the conflict in him.

"Relax," she whispered, her musical voice oozing with sweet honey. "Let us take care of you..."

His vision was blurred and out of focus, but the one thing that he could clearly make out were the dozen pairs of glowing eyes that surrounded him, burning bright orange like hot embers in a fireplace. They watched him intently, covetously, like hyenas waiting for a pride of lions to eat their fill and move on.

She continued to whisper to him as her sister's tongue painted every inch of his manhood with a sheen of thick saliva, her voice somehow soothing and hypnotic. The more he listened to her droning, calming words, the less he cared about his situation. It felt good, that was all that mattered. They wanted to make him happy, so he should cooperate. Didn't he owe his generous hosts at least that much?

The Seirim began to bob her head on his shaft, forcing it deep into her throat, her passage gripping it and massaging its length as her muscles rippled around it. She was so impossibly tight, her velvet flesh slick with slippery drool, strands of it falling from her pursed lips to land on his belly and thighs. Her pace was relentless, her tongue lapping and curling around his shaft as she moved, the tip escaping to tease his balls on the downward thrusts.

She was going faster and faster, the sensation of his exposed glans grinding against the back of her throat making him buck and twitch. She allowed him to thrust into her mouth and he realized that his hips were moving of their own accord, his body seeking out more stimulation as a familiar pressure began to rise inside him. It was so wet, so warm and soft, like velvet that had been soaked in lubricating jelly. She kept him on edge, lashing with her tongue, circling his tender head whenever it left her esophagus.

He heard a clatter, looking down to see one of her sisters vying for space between his parted legs. His member was still buried to the hilt in the first Seirim's throat, the second bumping horns with her as she extended her pink tongue to get a taste.

"Please sister," she begged, batting her long lashes at her counterpart. "Share him with us."

A third appeared to her left, planting a lingering kiss on Ryan's inner thigh.

"Surely there is enough for everyone?"

The first Seirim ignored their pleas, letting his rigid member slough out of her mouth along with a drooping web of saliva, holding his shaft in her hand as she warded them off with her twisted horns. Apparently, she didn't think that there was enough Ryan to go around.

Almost immediately she resumed her greedy fellatio, the whirlwind of sensation making Ryan's brain pop and fizz like a can of soda that was being violently shaken. Her sisters focused their lurid attentions on the rest of his body instead, licking at his exposed chest and belly, planting kisses on his neck and shoulders like starving animals licking moss from a rock. They were almost desperate, as if his very sweat might sustain them.

He struggled to call up memories, trying to remember what Nahash had said about her kind. Demons were like living batteries, they needed energy to exist, and they expended that energy when they used their powers. The energy could come from worship, offerings and sacrifices, or it could be sexual in origin. Sex was a powerful force for certain demons and entities, and the Seirim were one such tribe, gleaning their sustaining energy from intercourse with humans. Was that what they were after? Nahash had once described the sexual fluids produced from the coupling of a demon and a human as having a powerful magick, it was an almost irresistible ambrosia to the creatures.

The cruel sucking and milking reached a fever pitch, Ryan loosing a pained groan as the demon buried him to the hilt in her spasming throat, swallowing as if trying to drink his essence from the source. She wasn't giving him a moment of respite. He felt an urgent need growing inside him, a primal imperative that made him grind his hips hopelessly.

His orgasm was sudden and overwhelming, a jolt of electrical pleasure shooting through his body like a lightning strike, his member pulsing as he ejaculated deep in her gullet. She locked onto him even tighter, her lips and tongue seizing around him, ensuring that not a drop would be spilled as she gulped it down selfishly.

The irresistible massage of her narrow throat drew another wad of his ejaculate into her mouth, Ryan's muscles wrenching, the other Satyrs that surrounded him holding him down so that he couldn't buck free. It was such an acute pleasure, harsh and stark, every throb of his muscles as they pumped his milky semen into her waiting mouth searing his nerves. There was a strange tingling in his extremities as though he had slept on them wrong, his mind clouded with a combination of seething ecstasy and the confusion brought about by their insidious magick.

Finally, he seemed to be spent, releasing the last of his emission onto the Satyr's tongue. She held him between her smooth lips, cleaning him with her tapered organ, ensuring that every last trace of his fluids was gone. It was like being washed with a silk flannel, the stimulation provoking another aftershock. Her throat vibrated around him, the creature purring like an oversized cat. A pervading euphoria crept up on him, drowning his exhausted body in warmth and complacency as he lay on the cushions, one of the Seirim stroking his hair as she gazed down at him.

As their hypnotism began to wear off Ryan's mind cleared somewhat, his bleary eyes coming back into focus. He struggled through the lingering pleasure, coming to his senses as the tribe of Seirim massaged his tired muscles.

"What the hell...what are you guys doing?"

Another wave of dizziness muddled his thoughts, Ryan forgetting what he was so outraged about, like stepping into a room and being unable to recall why you were there. A pleasant, tingling warmth flooded through him, fresh arousal making his receding erection hard again. It was still tender, sore from its rough treatment at the hands of the Seirim, and yet he was suddenly so turned on that it was making him crazy.

He wanted more, he would beg for it if they didn't give it to him. He glanced up at the Seirim who was cradling his head, her eyes burning like molten metal, piercing the fuzzy mirage that was the world beyond her.

"Poor Ryan," she whispered, her voice accompanied by the faint sounds of music. "Let us soothe you..."

A second Seirim straddled him, trapping him between her meaty thighs as she gripped his renewed erection in her hand. She angled it towards her opening, her lips splayed to reveal pink, dripping flesh. Ryan watched with bated breath as she inched his glans ever closer to her loins, gazing down at him lecherously with her yellow eyes.

She faltered, Ryan's vision suddenly sharpening, the scene coming back into focus. He could see the tribe of Seirim as they crouched around him on the grass, the silken cushions beneath him had vanished, and there was no longer any trace of the bonfire. The icicles and frost had disappeared too, the illusion of cold melting away as the night's warmth returned to him.

The Satyrs had turned their heads to look at something that was happening a few feet away. Even the one who was poised to mount him had stopped to stare, his member still held in her hand. Something had distracted them, breaking their concentration and shattering the illusion that they had cast over him. Gone too was his unnatural lust, and Ryan struggled to free himself as the creatures maintained their hold on his wrists and ankles.

Shadows coalesced above the grass, about where the center of his salt summoning circle had been before nature had retaken the clearing, a cold wave of fear washing over Ryan as if he was being submerged in ice water.

What was appearing? Was it Haures again, back to finish the job? Some other demon that had been tasked with killing him?

The darkness morphed and shifted like wet clay, taking a vaguely humanoid shape, and soon cloven hooves were treading on the grass. A crown of twisted horns sprouted from its head, the figure becoming feminine and voluptuous, white wool and ashen skin shining under the starlight. Nahash took in a deep breath, clearly relieved to be back in the mortal realm, then she turned her amber eyes on Ryan.

What a sorry sight it must have been. He was lying on the grass with his cock out, surrounded by a dozen Seirim who were struggling to control him as he thrashed about. She rolled her eyes in exasperation, marching towards them with balled fists.

"Off with you! Off with you, beasts!"

She stamped her feet on the ground and waved her arms like she was trying to startle a flock of pigeons, her sisters scattering in alarm, releasing Ryan from their clutches.

Embarrassed, he zipped up his pants, straightening his clothes as he rose to his feet unsteadily. Nahash caught him in her arms as he toppled forward, still dizzy and disoriented. The tribe had really done a number on his brain, he felt like he had just woken up from a coma. His limbs were numb and unresponsive, he was groggy and uncoordinated.