Succubus Summoning 208

Phil heard a gurgling rumble. The waiter said, "Pardon moi," to no-one in particular and rubbed his expansive girth.

Great, Phil thought. The bloke was hungry and they were currently in the process of demolishing all the food on the table.

Cέrμləa grabbed his chin and twisted his face until his attention was solely back on her.

"Gee, you're a wet fish tonight," she said. "What's a gal got to do to turn your gas on?"

She reached between his robes and took hold of his cock. She encircled his shaft with a hand lubricated with dripping whipped cream and stroked up and down.

He really needed to get hold of some underwear, Phil thought. Didn't Wargsnouts have a laundry? Maybe he could steal himself a pair of underpants.

Cέrμləa rubbed her crotch against Phil's lengthening erection.

"We can't do it here," he hissed.

He gave the impassive waiter an apologetic glance.

"Don't mind Mr G," Cέrμləa said. She planted sticky kisses on his cheeks, jaw and throat. "He only cares about food."

After another heavy session of smooching Phil managed to escape and get back up to his knees.

"Isn't he going to be mad we're not ea—"

Phil didn't get a chance to finish as Cέrμləa scooped up a handful of cake and shoved it into his mouth.

"Problem solved. Now you're eating," she said and then giggled.

A gooey confection of sugars and cream melted on Phil's tongue. It did more than melt; it crackled with effervescence, like an explosion of flavours was detonating on his palate. This was the best cake Phil had ever tasted in his life. So moist, so scrumptious, so—

Cέrμləa grabbed the back of Phil's knee and yanked. He fell over backwards and his head crashed through a big flan. Cέrμləa, her naked body splattered with various foodstuffs, clambered on top of him. The rounded swell of her ass was covered in gobbets of mashed cake. They squelched against Phil's face as she sat on him. It was like getting a cream pie in the face, but delivered by ass cheeks instead of a hand. Cέrμləa grabbed his penis and jerked up and down.

For a horrible moment Phil thought he might drown in deluxe cake and ass. Thankfully, Cέrμləa shifted position to sit on his chest instead. Phil coughed out chunks of sweet cake. His mouth was sorry to let the wonderful flavours go, but his lungs were grateful for the air.

Cέrμləa picked up an enormous linen bag of icing sugar. She squeezed the bag and pinkish-white froth squirted from the nozzle. She scooped up a blob on her finger and tasted it.

"Mmm," she purred. "You remembered the special ingredient."

"Extract of gooulb gland from a silren'gulba carefully blended with floompfthis pollen to maximise their aphrodisiac properties," the waiter said.

"Brilliant, Mr G," Cέrμləa said.

Cέrμləa was heavier than her waif-like appearance suggested. Sitting on his chest she kept him pinned to the table. She leaned over his groin and moved the icing bag in a circle, squeezing out a thick coil of soft cream around Phil's cock. The frothy substance fizzed pleasantly when it came into contact with Phil's naked skin. His cock grew warm and the same warm sensation travelled down into his balls. For a moment Phil forgot the presence of the waiter as a wave of hormones washed over him.

Cέrμləa made a big fat spiral around Phil's cock and then topped it off with a large dollop that melted around the outside of Phil's glans. She paused to admire her handiwork.

"Whatcha think, Mr G?" she asked.

"Looks most palatable," the emotionless waiter replied.

Cέrμləa bent over until her nipples were rubbing against Phil's belly. Slowly, deliberately—savouring each tongueful—she started to lick the cream off Phil's penis.

That wave of hormones intensified into a pink fog smothering all of Phil's thoughts. Cέrμləa wiggled her ass and pushed it back up against Phil's face. Heedless of who might be watching, Phil started to lick the frosted clumps of cake from Cέrμləa's ass cheeks. His tongue slithered down the groove of her vagina, savouring the taste of sugar and cream mixed with Cέrμləa's juices. Lost in a sweet haze he lapped his tongue back and forth while Cέrμləa attended to his erection with the same detail.

Dimly he heard another gurgling rumble, as if the waiter's stomach was grumbling again. Strangely it seemed to be coming from beneath, the vibrations travelling up through the table legs.

Then Cέrμləa started sucking on his cock and the strange rumbling sounds slipped from his mind. Her warm mouth closed over his glans, first smooshing the cream into his sensitive skin and then sucking it off him.

Smoosh. Suck. Phil's hips trembled. He felt an orgasm rise within him.

Smoosh. Suck. Phil's resistance broke and he spurted his own cream up into the mix. Cέrμləa sucked that up as well, savouring each drop.

She sat up and wiped the back of her hand against her lips.

"That was one scrummy dessert," she said.

The ejaculation allowed Phil to recover some of his senses. He realised where he was and what he'd been doing. His cheeks reddened. He gave the waiter an apologetic glance. "I'm really sorry about this," he said.

The waiter's impassive mask finally slipped and his mouth turned up in a wry smile of understanding.

"This stuff is so dreamy one serving is never enough." Cέrμləa looked thoughtfully at the still-plump bag of icing. "I wonder . . ."

She sat with her legs apart and squirted pinkish-white cream in a spiral around her pussy. She inserted the nozzle between her fleshy labia and squeezed the bag until pink-white goop was overflowing out of her pussy. She closed her eyes, her body shuddered and she gave a long erotic sigh.

"Oh Mr G, you are a true master," she said after the tremors running through her body died down.

The waiter's grin grew broader.

"I wouldn't have been able to perfect the recipe without your assistance," the waiter said.

"All it needs now is a little extra seasoning," Cέrμləa said. She glanced at Phil's prone form.

Uh oh. The waiter's smile changed to a frown as his stomach gave another loud rumbling gurgle.

"Time grows short," he warned.

"It's hunky-dory, Mr G," Cέrμləa said. "We've got plenty of time."

She grabbed Phil's ankles and dragged him towards her. She gave his still-hard erection a flick.

"Extract of silren'gulba gooulb gland," she said. "Works wonders on droopy male libido."

She hopped astride Phil and lowered her body down onto his cock. He plunged upwards into a vagina full of creamy froth. It bubbled out over him like hot mud at a geyser. The sensation was just as before, but magnified this time as it was the whole of Cέrμləa's tight pussy rubbing the creamy froth into his erection. Once again a warm sensation flowed down into his balls and pulsed until his thoughts were subsumed within a thick pink fog.

Cέrμləa bounced lithely in his lap and molten foodstuffs squelched between them as their bodies came together. Little blue devil wings emerged from Cέrμləa's back and quivered in ecstasy. She closed her eyes and gave out little sighs as she rose up and down. They increased in frequency and loudness until she hit climax. Her pussy completely enveloped Phil's cock and sucked the sugary cream off him in soft tickling waves. Sucked and sucked until the sensation became too much and Phil erupted inside her. At the same time Cέrμləa gave an orgasmic cry and squeezed the icing bag in her hand hard enough to squirt a jet of pink-white cream into the air.

Phil fell back, spent, in the ruins of the cake. Cέrμləa didn't seem done quite yet. She dismounted and looked around her with bright red eyes. Glancing down, Phil saw the succubus's vagina had sucked his cock completely clean. Not a trace of icing remained on it.

"Hmm, what to try now," Cέrμləa said.

"Mademoiselle!" the waiter warned. Much louder this time.

The rumble of his stomach was also louder. So loud it sounded like an earthquake.

It was an earthquake! Phil even felt the tremors vibrating through the table legs. It jolted him from his comfortable post-coital glow. The ground was shaking. That rumble he'd thought was the waiter's stomach was coming from all around them.

Cέrμləa didn't seem to have noticed. She flitted from dessert to dessert like a sugar-crazed hummingbird.

Phil swung his legs over the side of the table and stood up. What was that out in the distance? There was some kind of commotion on the horizon.

"Cέrμləa, I think we should leave," he said.

An ominous feeling of dread was growing in his gut as fast as the commotion on the horizon was drawing closer.

He looked to the waiter for guidance. The man was staring mournfully at his rumbling belly.

Phil glanced back at the horizon. The thing on the horizon was moving up and down in a sinuous wave like a line of serpents. It was also big. Very big. And moving towards them extremely quickly.

"I would advise haste, young master," Mr G said. "My hunger is terrible and swift when aroused."

"Cέrμləa!" Phil said.

"Hey don't rush a gal when she's trying to get her knickers back on," Cέrμləa complained.

She glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes widened. The sinuous something had resolved into a line of monstrous worms fused together at the sides. They chomped through the terrain in a vast masticating wave. Cέrμləa jumped off the table and grabbed Phil's hand and started running back towards the exit.

"Thanks, G," she said. "Until next time."

"Thanks for the meal," Phil said to Mr G.

"A pleasure," Mr G said. He glanced to the horizon. "But I would really advise running at this point."

Phil saw the doorway back to the succubi's castle off in the distance. It looked a long way away. Hand in hand, Phil and Cέrμləa sprinted across the spongy brown ground. The soft organic feel of the surface made Phil think about things he didn't want to think about at this precise moment. Neither did he want to contemplate why the whole floor was shaking and convulsing.

He glanced over his shoulder and wished he hadn't. A wall of mouths—each filled with gnashing, plate-like teeth—rose up behind them. Drool ran from cavernous maws in rivers of slime as teeth the size of cars clicked together. The vast, multi-headed wave was gaining on them. Phil put his head down and ran faster.

The door was close now. Only a few metres. Phil daren't look behind him. Already he felt blasts of hot breath at his back. The exhalations carried the putrid odours of meat gone bad.

Cέrμləa reached the door first. A gigantic black shadow fell over Phil and instinctively he dived through the open door. He hit the stone floor of the storage room and skidded into a wall. There was a loud thud behind him. It sounded like a herd of dinosaurs had crashed into the doorway. He turned and saw the doorway bulging as if it was an image projected onto elastic. A cavernous, roaring red maw gaped open on the other side. Thankfully the wall separating the two dimensions rebounded and the distortion went away. The straight lines of the doorway were once again straight lines. On the other side of the doorway two rows of enormous teeth came together with a loud click.

Fuck, that was close, Phil thought.

And not over.

The vast mouth opened and a long tongue, muscular like a tentacle, slithered through the doorway and wrapped around Phil's ankle.

Oh shit.

He scrabbled furiously and was able to get his arms around the post of a shelving unit as the tongue tightened its grip on his ankle and started to tug him back towards the door. Rather than help him Cέrμləa fell about laughing in the corner.

Nurse Honey stepped between Phil and the door and jabbed the tongue with a small trident. The appendage released Phil and slithered back down the cavernous red tunnel. White teeth closed behind it with a porcelain clink.

The blonde succubus was wearing a different costume to her usual latex nurse outfit. She was still wearing tight rubber, but this was deep red in colour. It hugged her curves like a second skin and was cut low enough to show off most of her substantial cleavage.

Nurse Honey looked over to where Cέrμləa was giggling away in the corner and tsked. "That form," she said.

The white teeth opened like horizontal curtains, revealing the portly waiter. He stood at the entrance to an endless red gullet.

"My sincerest apologies." He bowed to Nurse Honey. "Please forgive my intrusion. This hunger . . . it is difficult to contain sometimes."

"Forgiven," Nurse Honey said. "No harm done and I'm guessing—" She shot a glance over to the giggling Cέrμləa "—some provocation was involved."

The waiter turned his attentions to Phil. "It was a pleasure to meet you, young master," he said. "Please do come back any time."

He gave Phil a little bow. Then he disappeared from view as giant white teeth clicked together in front of him to form an impenetrable ivory wall.

"Later, G," Nurse Honey said as she walked over and shut the door.

Phil understood then why she was carrying the trident. The red figure-hugging rubber was part of a cheap and tacky fancy dress costume—some kind of devil girl. She was even wearing a pair of fake plastic horns.

She caught Phil's look of surprise. "Stag party in Tallinn," she explained.

A tiny hand and face pushed up against the rubber covering her hip.

"The bride will grieve, but ultimately she's better off," she said.

* * * *

"He's through here," Darvill said, looking at the strange contraption in his hand and then at the bathroom door. "But a long way off."

The four students stood in Phil's room at Wargsnouts.

"There is some serious fucking enchantment on that door," Higgins said.

"It's a portal to hell," Darvill said. "Probably the Second Circle of Lust. The signal from Gary's soul is coming from there."

"Then we're fucked," Jack Stone said. "We're the best students of The Scrote's advanced classes, but we're still students. They don't take students into hell until at least their seventh year."

Darvill brought out another contraption—this time something that resembled a large magnifying glass with a heavy, baroque frame—and examined the strange object on the wall next to the door.

"We could wait here," Joey Chalk suggested. "Ambush the bastard when he comes back through."

His daemon, a squat goblin thing with tusks, banged a fist into its palm for emphasis.

Darvill shook his head. "We don't have time. The succubi might not come back through until they've finished draining him to death. We have to go in and pull him out."

The other three students were less than enthused by the prospect.

"I'm going through," Darvill said. "I'm not holding any of you under any obligation to follow, but I'm not going to lie—I'd really appreciate the help."

The others looked at each other.

"Let's fucking do it!" Chalk said.

They opened the door.

to be continued . . .