In the Red Light Backrooms

Chris paused to look at her. He went to move on. Stopped. Turned to look at her again.

"Fuck it," he said. "We've got to pick a door at some point."

"You sure?" Damien asked.

"No," Chris replied.

He stood outside the door and nervously fiddled with his hair and clothes. He turned and gave Damien a wan smile.

"At least we're going to get laid," he said.

"Yup, at least there's that."

Maybe. Assuming she doesn't turn full demon in the room and rip his heart out with her teeth.

The gorgeous blonde girl opened the door out onto the corridor. Chris didn't know what to say. He didn't need to say anything. The bombshell blonde took his hand in a white-gloved hand and gently coaxed him into her room. She pulled the door too and gave a last glance out through the glass. Her face looked predatory. She caught Damien looking and gave him a dirty wink. She pulled the curtain across.

He's getting his heart bitten out for sure, Damien thought.

He leaned back against the wall and slid down to sit on the floor. It was good to give his feet a rest after all the walking.

He stared at the glass door and wondered what was taking place behind the curtain. They'd be taking their clothes off, then...

Sex?

Slaughter?

Damien waited.

The red curtain gave away nothing. He heard nothing from within either. No sounds of lovemaking. No screams.

He waited some more.

What was happening in there?

Surely he'd hear something--a loud moan of climax, a last final scream of terror. There had to be something--anything--to let him know.

Because at the back of his mind he knew he'd be the one picking a door next.

He sat and stared at the door and waited. And waited.

Come on Chris, he thought. It can't take this long. If you're banging her, there's no way you're going to last long, not with a gorgeous blonde bombshell like that as your first. And if you're not, if she's gone full demon on you, at least scream me a warning.

Damien heard nothing. He continued to wait.

Then finally there was movement. A pale hand grabbed the edge of the curtain and pulled it across...

...to reveal a completely different girl.

She was a brunette rather than a blonde. Her skin was darker. She was shorter and had a leaner build. Her face was different--sultry, with heavy-lidded eyes. She was dressed differently as well, wearing an electric-blue wet-look swimsuit bikini.

Completely, unequivocally different.

Damien got up and approached. Seeing his interest, the succubus opened the door.

"Would you like to come in?" she asked. Her voice was low and smooth. Smooth like butter.

"I... um... this is going to sound strange, but my friend walked in here... with someone else."

The girl in the electric-blue bikini looked at him quizzically.

"Is he... um... still in there?" Damien asked.

"There's no-one in here other than me," the girl said.

She stepped to the side and Damien caught a glimpse of a small, intimate room with a luxurious bed along the left wall. No Chris, or sign of a door or any other kind of exit at the back.

"I can be your friend, if you like," the girl said. "With special benefits."

She reached out and stroked Damien's arm. He felt a pleasant tingle where she touched him and an even bigger tingle in his pants.

Reflexively, he pulled his arm away. More out of an habitual avoidance of human contact than out of fear. There was some regret at that hasty impulse, but also gratitude. If he'd left her hand there he would have been unable to resist her pulling him inside.

"No... it's okay... thanks. I need to find my friend."

She gave him an exaggerated sulky pout as she slowly closed the door. She returned to all smiles behind the glass, and her expression and stance told Damien he still had the chance to change his mind.

Damien didn't. He backed away and stumbled on. He tried to make sense of what had just happened.

Chris was gone.

He was now alone.

* * * *

Damien walked on through the corridors. Chris was right. He had to pick a door. Maybe there was a right door. Maybe there wasn't. It didn't really matter. It was either that or walk until he dropped.

Damien had an idea of the girl he wanted as well. It was a cliché--the big tiddy goth gf. Fuck it. If it was going to be his end, he might as well pick his fantasy.

Visualising it made it come true. Damien didn't know if the window succubi had the ability to shapeshift to match a person's desire, or the corridors could sense and warp the person to the right region. Either way, Damien turned a corner and there she was, the classic big tiddy goth gf.

She was pale-skinned, tall and voluptuous. Her curvaceous boobs were squeezed into a black leather bra. She wore a black leather miniskirt around her waist and black leather boots that reached up to her thighs. Her face had a thin, vampiric beauty. Her overplump sensual lips were covered in glossy black lipstick and turned up in a haughty smirk. Jet-black hair fell on her shoulders in raven tresses. She wore silver dagger earrings and a small silver skull pendant. She stared at Damien and projected the haughty confidence of someone who knew he wouldn't be going anywhere else.

And she was right.

If Damien had to pick a perfect fantasy for his first, it would look like the girl behind the window.

The girl knew it. She smiled triumphantly as she opened the door to him.

"How much?" Damien asked.

"Come in," the girl said.

She hadn't answered his question.

Damien entered anyway.

The room was small and intimate. The carpet was black. The wallpaper was black. The ceiling was black. A bed ran along the lefthand wall. It looked like an overstuffed leather couch. The surface was black, polished and glossy. A lamp on a small table in the opposite corner provided illumination. The light was red and low. The room felt warmer, much warmer, than outside, but Damien wasn't sure if that was him. He currently felt hot enough for steam to well up from beneath his collar.

"Um. Excuse me if I'm a little... awkward. It's my firs--"

The succubus wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug and silenced him with a forceful kiss as she crushed her plump lips against his.

There go my levels, Damien thought as she held him tight in a suffocating kiss.

He did feel like his strength was draining away in her kiss. But he could also feel his hormones raging through him and his nerves going haywire. His body was so overwhelmed with a giddy excitement it left him feeling weak at the knees.

The woman's hands worked industriously to unbutton his shirt and trousers, and strip away his clothes. Damien might have helped too. Everything was hazy. Floaty. He found himself naked and lying on his back on the soft bed with no clear recollection of the individual steps leading to getting there.

The succubus was astride him. She was down one knee with her other foot planted on the soft leather surface. She stared down at him, bunched her lips in a sexy pout and slowly peeled off her miniskirt. She had nothing on underneath. Damien glimpsed the luscious folds of her sex illuminated in the wan red light. She pushed her hips forwards. Her vagina gaped invitingly.

He was going to do it! He was finally going to do it!

The excitement was too much. Damien's erection throbbed and twitched ominously. A bead of precum welled up out of his urethra.

No no no.

He recognised that feeling and also knew it was too late to pull it back. He was coming and he couldn't hold it in.

He didn't need to.

The succubus ran a finger along the groove of her sex and then up across her belly to her navel.

"You shall not spill your seed outside of my body," she said.

She whispered words in a long forgotten language that dripped with ancient perversions and forbidden pleasures. Her labia came together and then parted. They moved like the lips of a mouth. Her vagina blew out smoky black rings of corruption like a cigar smoker blowing smoke rings. The rings expanded and settled over Damien's twitching erection like hoops. They slid down his shaft and settled over--into--the root of his cock. They forced back his premature ejaculation. Drove it back down into his balls and closed up to dam it from returning.

It was not a moment too soon. The succubus settled down in Damien's lap and his erection pushed up between her labia and into the warm soft clutch of her sex.

Damien's mouth fell open in an o. His hips gave an involuntary jerk. Without the succubus's intervention he'd have shot his load right there. Instead the barrier around the base of his cock held firm. The succubus chuckled darkly. Damien wasn't coming until she was good and ready.

She sat upright with Damien's cock inside her and smiled haughtily down at him. She ran her fingers back through her silky black hair. She moved up and down on top of him with a series of short little bounces. Damien's cock rubbed against her soft vaginal walls as it moved up and down inside her.

He was doing it, he realised. Actually doing it. And it felt incredible.

Still lithely moving up and down on top of him, she reached behind her to unhook her bra. She took it off and tossed it to the floor. Damien's eyes boggled as he saw her naked breasts. They were full, round and ripe like luscious fruits. Milk melons. He saw the dusky little circles of her areolae, the little erect nubs of her nipples.

She was every fantasy he'd ever dreamed of.

With a vulpine smile on her black lips, she leant down over him. The pale globes of her tits hung above Damien like tempting fruits. She started to work her hips higher and harder. Damien felt her vagina stroke all the way up and down his cock. Her crotch came down on him with meaty slaps that sent waves of pleasurable force running through his flesh. Waves that electrified his nerve endings.

The force set her lovely boobs jiggling and bouncing above him. Tentatively Damien reached up for them. The succubus snatched up his hand and pressed it into her soft boob. Her skin was warm and smooth beneath his fingers, her flesh soft and elastic.

Damien didn't know what to think. His thoughts were scrambled. He was fucking--or more strictly being fucked by--a hot woman. He felt the snug flesh of her vagina stroke up and down his cock. It felt far far better than the wanks he'd previously been limited to.

It was not all pleasure. When he was able to tear his gaze away from her lovely bouncing boobs, he looked up to see a face with horns poking up through raven hair and deep abyssal pits for eyes. It reminded him of what she was... where he was.

There would be a cost, he was sure of it.

He'd worry about it later. For now he lay back and let the pleasure wash over him. He lowered his gaze back down to the lovely bouncing globes of her tits.

The succubus did all the work on top of him. She rode him faster and faster, harder and harder. She was indefatigable. Her intensity didn't dip. She leaned back. Her moans and sighs rose to a crescendo. Until, finally, she rose up and slammed her hips back down in a climactic thud.

Damien felt some kind of fleshy resistance inside her. The head of his cock had been bumping up against it, but with that great crashing thrust, Damien's cock was pushed up against it hard enough for something to give. He felt the swollen head of his penis push through. It was like some kind of internal vagina, but much tighter. It was tight enough that Damien's cock pushed into it and became stuck. The succubus tossed back her head and let out a feral orgasmic cry when it happened. Then she collapsed down on top of Damien.

Damien's hips bucked. The barrier at the base of his cock held firm, although the pressure behind it continued to build.

It wasn't a climax, merely a transition to a new phase. The succubus hugged him and deposited hungry kisses on his throat and chin. The walls of her vagina swelled up around Damien's erection, forming a snug, then tight, fit. He felt rhythmic muscular tugs roll up his shaft.

Damien might be a novice in the ways of lovemaking, and even though it felt good, some primal instinct told him this was not normal. A regular human woman's vagina did not--could not--do this. It was unnatural. Wrong.

And incredibly pleasurable.

He couldn't deny how could it felt. It felt like being stroked by silken fingers. Milked.

The succubus flexed her abdomen and Damien felt a short burst of pleasure like nothing he'd ever experienced before. What was happening in there? It felt like hundreds of tongues all lapping away at the sensitive ridge separating his glans from the shaft.

The succubus kissed him passionately down the line of his jaw. She gave a little sigh, a little flex. Damien writhed helplessly beneath her as his cock was gripped by another indescribable burst of pleasure.

The succubus tightly gripped his head between her hands. She rose up above him and stared down into his eyes. Her hips never moved from where she'd clamped her body against his, but it still felt like hot wet strokes rolling up and down his shaft. Her body tensed. Damien shuddered in bliss as he experienced another burst of pleasure around the sensitive head of his penis. The succubus sighed. She extended black batwings.

Oh God, it was coming, Damien realised. She was going to do that final-fuck succubus thing and suck out his life and soul.

The succubus reared backwards. Whatever was inside her--no womb for sure--continued to stimulate the head of Damien's cock with quick bursts of concentrated ecstasy. The intervals between each burst grew shorter and shorter.

It was coming. Whatever had dammed the base of Damien's erection had reached its limit. It was going to burst. Damien was going to come. It was going to be massive.

And end him.

The succubus opened her mouth to reveal a serpentine tongue--much longer than a human's and tapered to a point. She dropped down on Damien and crushed her lips against his in another suffocating kiss. Her tongue pushed its way inside Damien's mouth. At the same time he felt another set of lips--internal, within that mystery chamber where her womb should be--wrap around the head of his cock and suck.

Fuck it, Damien thought. If this was it, there were worse ways to go.

The dam burst. Damien let out a final orgasmic groan. His hips jerked spasmodically beneath her. His cock swelled within her and then spurted out his cum in a thunderous gush. It was beyond any sensual pleasure he'd ever experienced. A last, never-ending, orgasmic burst of blissful release.

Damien was okay with this end.

It wasn't the end.

It was a long ejaculation--far longer than any other ejaculation Damien had ever experienced--but it did come to a stop. The pulsing flow from his cock finally subsided to a dribble. The succubus ended her kiss. Her vagina relaxed and released Damien's cock. She lifted herself up off him and got off the bed.

It took Damien a while to come down from the orgasmic high.

It took longer to realise he was, in fact, not dead. Not drained. Not dryfished. His soul, if such a thing existed, was still present within him.

His fears had been unfounded. He'd been convinced she'd been prepping to suck out his life and soul, but all that had happened was an epic, mind-blowing orgasm.

The succubus had already put her bra and miniskirt back on. She stood by the far wall and regarded him with a smile. There was a slight air of impatience about her, none-too-subtly letting Damien know it was time to leave.

Slightly bemused by it all, Damien retrieved his clothes and put them back on.

"Um... thanks."

He didn't know what else to say.

The woman ushered him to the door and closed it behind him.

Damien looked up and smiled so broadly he felt the top of his head would tip off.

He'd done it! He'd finally done it! And it had felt awesome!

Yet, why did he feel... empty?

Not quite empty. It was difficult to put into words. He felt like he'd lost something, or rather part of something, although he couldn't put his finger on exactly what it was. It wasn't his virginity. Something else. It was like there was an apple inside him and the woman had taken a big bite out of it. The apple was still there, but the bite had left behind a little pocket of emptiness that would never go away and he'd always be aware of it.

He looked back at the door. The succubus was already waiting for her next customer. She didn't look at him.

Fuck it. He'd got laid. It was done and he was none the worse for it.

Aside from that nagging little pocket of emptiness within him.

His only regret was that the memory of the pleasure was already fading. He wanted to recapture it, recapture it as many times as he could.

Fuck it. He would, and with regular human whores once he got out of here.

And fuck this place.

Damien saw daylight ahead. Eagerly he strode towards it. The corridor ran out into a narrow alleyway between two tall buildings. They loomed over him and the sky was visible as a narrow crack far above. They were more window doors. They ran down the alley on both sides. Red fluorescent tubes glimmered above each. Damien walked past more devil girls provocatively displaying their wares. He had eyes only for the far end.

He thought he recognised this narrow alley. If he was right it would open up at the end into a wide thoroughfare with a canal running down the middle.

It did not.

Damien reached the end and his spirits sank as he found himself in another long corridor of window doors stretching off into the distance.

* * * *

Damien came upon the wretch later. It was another poor soul, lost within the labyrinth of window doors. Damien thought him dead at first. The body was slumped down against the wall. There was something strangely familiar about it.

This one hadn't quite given up the ghost. It let out a couple of wet coughs as Damien approached.

"Damien, is that you?" the wretch wheezed.

It lifted up its head and stared at Damien with clouded, rheumy eyes. The face was wrinkled and lined like old parchment. It was also disturbingly familiar.

"It's been so long. Years."

Damien knew space was malleable within the corridors. Could time be as well? That was the only explanation. It was Chris huddled down before him, but Chris as an old man. Just how long had he been wandering these corridors?

"I thought you'd escaped. Or maybe one of the devils had claimed you."

Chris's speech broke off into a series of wet coughs. It sounded like his throat was full of slime.

"The Irishman was wrong. There are no angels down here, only devils. They feed on us. You don't notice it at first. Just a little cavity. And it feels so good you don't care. At first. They only take a little bite, but it never comes back. Just a little bite. But it grows. The emptiness expands within you, consuming everything."

Chris broke down into more wet coughs.

"Ah, but you're not really Damien. I can see you. You've not changed at all, even after all these years. You're just a hallucination, a figment of my imagination. The real Damien got out. That's what I told myself, because it meant I could too."

Chris coughed again.

"When I still believed it. That was a long time ago. So long."

Damien said nothing.

He heard the wretch's laboured breathing. It sounded wet and phlegmy. The lights dimmed and flickered.

Damien hurried on. He didn't look back.

Ahead of him an endless corridor of window doors stretched into the distance. Above each, a lurid red fluorescent tube shone. Within each, a sexy female that was not posed alluringly, promising pleasures both empty and caustic.

The corridors went on without end.

THE END