Succubus Summoning 101Chapter 2
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Hell was surprisingly beautiful sometimes, Phil thought as he stared out of the window. The strange planetary bodies that orbited this realm were sinking down below the horizon, taking the light with them. The sky darkened from a powder-puff pink to a more sensual shade that brought to mind the secrets hidden between a woman's thighs.
In the world of the succubi even the colour of the sky could conjure up lustful thoughts, Phil thought.
Succubi were sex daemons. They drained the life force of men through sexual intercourse. Phil and Jake had been thinking too much of the 'sexual intercourse' part and not enough of the 'drain life force until dead' part when they'd decided to summon a pair of succubi for some 'fun'.
It was pure stupidity. That level of summoning was way beyond the abilities of a couple of mediocre students at Wargsnouts College for Warlocks and they'd paid the price. Jake was dead and Phil was imprisoned in Hell, a plaything for the demons.
"Why so glum, little fledgling?" Rosa asked. She was standing by the door next to Verdé. "Do you want a fuck?"
As always they both looked completely gorgeous. They had the faces and bodies of the perfect cheerleaders all the boys — and probably their fathers too — wanted to fuck. Their horns, tails and wings didn't detract from that at all. They looked more like the cute little monster girls of Japanese anime than nasty threatening demons.
These cute little monster girls were going to suck out all his life and leave behind a shrivelled husk, Phil reminded himself.
"What do you want?" Phil asked.
It was a pointless question. They wanted to fuck him and suck out more of his life. That was all they ever wanted.
The worst part was Phil's body wanted it too. His cock was already hard and erect. It twitched in eagerness at the thought of once again being sheathed in their silken pussies.
Rosa saw his arousal and stepped forward. She fondled the large globes of her breasts and licked her full red lips.
Her expression of lustful desire abruptly changed to annoyance as she was yanked back by the tail. A girl pushed her way between Rosa and Verdé and stood before Phil. It was the same girl Phil had seen outside Nÿte's room.
Nÿte. That was a memory Phil would rather block out.
The girl's vivid blue hair was short and stood up in spikes. She was wearing the same cornflower blue dress he'd seen her in before. Dark blue horns curled down behind her ears. She looked coyly at Phil with eyes the colour of blood-red rubies.
"We brought you a visitor," Verdé said. "This is Cérulea."
"Seh-roo-lee-ah," Phil repeated. It wasn't exact, but it was as close as he could get to the alien syllables Verdé had uttered.
"She wants to play with you," Verdé added.
Cérulea smiled shyly.
Play? What did they mean?
Cérulea was clearly a succubus, but she also looked quite young. Well, very young. Verdé had a hand on each of Cérulea's shoulders and seemed to regard her like a younger sister.
Did succubi have younger sisters? Did they have childhoods?
Phil didn't know.
Looking at the three succubus's faces Phil noticed something. Verdé's long green hair was matched by her glittering emerald eyes. If he remembered correctly Nÿte had jet-black hair and eyes and Nurse Honey had white eyes and blonde hair so fair it was almost white.
Rosa and Cérulea were different. Rosa had a short red bob, but her eyes were icy blue. Cérulea had vivid blue hair, but her eyes were deep red in colour. Phil looked back and forth from one face to the other.
"We swapped," Cérulea said, smiling broadly. "Rosa scared me with her old eyes so I switched them with mine."
Phil looked quizzically at Rosa.
"We don't like to talk about it," Rosa replied, her voice icy.
"Let's go and play," Cérulea said. She turned on the spot and danced out of the room. Her little blue demon's tail bobbed up and down jauntily behind her.
Phil was still a little confused. He looked to Rosa and Verdé for guidance.
"Come on fledgling," Verdé said, pulling him off the bed. "Little Cérulea wants to play."
She put an arm around his waist and escorted him out of the bedroom. Her body was a little more tense than usual and she hugged him a little tighter. When Phil looked over at her face he thought he could see glimpses of the depths she normally kept hidden.
Ahead of them the young succubus was skipping down the corridor, her tail bouncing excitedly behind her.
"What do you mean by play?" Phil asked.
"She wants to take her turn," Verdé answered.
Phil wasn't sure he liked the connotations of that. Cérulea looked awfully young. She turned back and beckoned them on with an eager smile.
"Um, she looks a bit ... um ... young," Phil said.
"Of course," Verdé smiled. "Succubi need to be able to satisfy each and every desire."
Phil suddenly felt queasy.
Rosa burst into laughter. "A bit young," she snorted, before laughing again. "She's older than both Verdé and I, and maybe even older than Nÿte."
"Cérulea is ... complex," Verde explained. "She's not as she appears."
Phil looked at Cérulea. That might be, but he really wasn't comfortable with the thought of 'playing' with someone that looked like they could be his kid sister.
They followed Cérulea up into an area of the castle Phil hadn't visited before. Rosa and Verdé were uncharacteristically quiet. Phil didn't think he'd ever been in their company for this long without one of them trying to grope or fondle him.
The character of the castle changed again. Large murals full of bright primary colours and simple block shapes adorned the walls. They looked like something a child would paint. Phil saw pictures of houses with stick figure dad, mum, brothers, sisters and pets. He saw bright green farms with white fluffy clouds to represent sheep. He saw brilliant blue seas and vivid orange beaches.
The murals showed no respect for boundaries. They leapt from the walls onto the floor and ceiling with bright swathes of colour. The rainbow splashes jumped in and out of the frames of existing paintings.
The style of the murals wasn't consistent. Often they'd begin with simple bright splashes of colour, as if painted by an exuberant child, but then they gradually grew more and more complex until Phil was looking at sections that could have been painted by a grand master. The styles also overlapped. Phil saw a pony rendered with almost photographic quality appear in a farmyard full of cartoon animals. A simplistic stick figure was a participant in an elaborate bacchanalian orgy.
The innocence of the childlike murals was marred by occasional touches of cruelty and brutality. In the bright blue ocean a stick figure swimmer was being chased by an oversized shark fin. In the farmyard scene a cartoon of a sheep was savaging the cartoon of a dog.
Or were his eyes playing tricks on him?
The swimmer was alone on the ocean, smiling beneath a bright yellow sun. The cartoon dog sat next to the cartoon sheep in perfect harmony.
Yeah, just his eyes playing...
The pictures changed again.
The swimmer was gone. A round circle with two crosses for eyes floated in a splash of vivid red, surrounded by severed body parts. The cartoon sheep was tearing out the cartoon entrails of the cartoon dog.
Phil's hairs pricked up and gooseflesh rose on his arms.
In the upstairs window of the family house lurked a dark shape. Phil felt a powerful rush of fear, as if ice splinters were being driven under his skin with a hammer.
Something terrible was taking place in that room, but he couldn't quite see. If only he could look a little...
Verdé put her hands on either side of his face and turned his head until he was staring directly into her bright green eyes.
"Don't spend too long staring at Cérulea's pictures," Verdé said. "You might find yourself becoming part of them."
Phil blinked and then shuddered. He kept his eyes straight ahead. Cérulea was dancing down the corridor with innocent abandon. What was she?
The corridor terminated in a baby-blue wooden door. Fluffy white clouds were painted onto the panels.
Verdé stopped. "These are Cérulea's chambers. We cannot enter without her permission."
Verdé stared at Phil. Once more her face swam with strange emotions. Again Phil thought he could see down to the graceful leviathans turning in her depths.
He didn't get a chance to look for long as she suddenly wrapped her arms and wings around him and pulled him close to her in a tight embrace. Her soft lips met his and he melted in her arms under the kiss.
Phil's mind sailed off on a sensual cloud. Her erotic aura enveloped him completely. His blood sang through his veins. Her arms were around him. Her wings were stretched around his back. Her breasts were pressed against his chest. Her lips, those soft luscious lips, were crushed against his.
Phil was submerged completely beneath her sensuality. He drowned.
She ended the kiss and finally he was able to come back up for air. Phil's knees trembled like rubber bands. The last time she'd been this intense was when she'd taken his virginity.
Verdé turned her back on him and walked away down the corridor without a backwards glance. Still reeling from the kiss, Phil watched her go with a stunned expression.
"Be very careful with Cérulea," Rosa whispered in his ear. "Her mind has ... flaws."
She lightly kissed him on the lips before following Verdé down the corridor. Phil felt totally confused.
A hand grabbed his and pulled. Phil turned and looked down into the impish face of Cérulea.
"Come on," she said. "Come and play with me."
She dragged Phil through the door and into a small hallway lined with simple wooden doors.
"Now where shall we play," Cérulea said, her face pursed in concentration.
She opened a door onto a child's bedroom. A gigantic bed was covered in giant, overstuffed toys. Phil's discomfort grew. This was wrong on every single level.
"Too sissy," Cérulea said, slamming the door shut.
"How old are you?" Phil asked, finally plucking up courage to ask the question.
"461019," Cérulea answered. "Seconds," she added as she skipped from door to door.
She paused and put a thoughtful finger on her chin.
"Or is it centuries. I always get those two muddled up. Never mind"
She pulled open another door. Phil was surprised to see bright sunshine pour into the hallway. On the other side was a pretty little suburban garden with a small wooden swing.
Outside? But that wasn't possible. They were somewhere near the middle of the castle.
And it was night.
"Too bright," Cérulea said, slamming the door shut.
She went onto the next door.
"Ah, this is the room."
She grabbed Phil's hand and excitedly pulled him through. The room beyond looked like a cross between a hidden grotto and something out of the Arabian Nights. A large round bed hung with delicate silks took up most of the space. The silk hangings stretched around the room, forming complex curtains and layers on the walls. Light came from bright phosphorescent blue crystals in tall metal stands. In front of the bed was a small, perfectly circular pool. The water glowed with the same phosphorescent blue as the crystals.
"Perfect," Cérulea said. She jumped up and sat cross-legged on the bed. She smiled at Phil while her tail wagged up and down.
Phil stood awkwardly by the door. He didn't feel comfortable with this at all.
"What are you waiting for?" Cérulea asked. "Come over and fuck me hard, Daddy!"
Phil blanched. His stomach did a greasy flip.
"No," he said.
He couldn't do this, even if she really was centuries old.
For a brief instant he thought he saw that centuries old wisdom flash in her red eyes, but it was just an instant and then the girl returned. Her red eyes wobbled and filled with moisture.
"Why?" Cérulea said. "Aren't you my master? Don't you want me?"
"I can't," Phil said.
The girl departed again and Phil saw something far far older appear behind her red eyes. A facet of the true Cérulea, he realised, and not the girl she was currently pretending to be.
"You feel no attraction to this form," the girl with the ancient eyes said. "It's too immature."
Phil nodded.
The girl returned and smiled brightly. "But that's easy to fix," she said, brimming with excitement.
She jumped off the bed and suddenly twirled with the grace of a dancer. She pirouetted faster and faster, becoming a living whirlwind. Her hair shook out and became longer. Her silk dress became a series of veils spinning around a form that shimmered as insubstantially as mist. The air crackled with energy.
Cérulea slowed down, came to a stop.
"Is this better?" she asked.
The woman before Phil couldn't have been a day younger than ninety. She had long white hair that flowed down past her waist. Her face was a mass of leathery old wrinkles. Her back was stooped. Most of her teeth were missing and the ones remaining were cracked and yellowed.
Phil backed away in shock.
"I went too far didn't I?" Cérulea asked.
Phil nodded numbly, still trying to take in the strange transformation he'd just witnessed.
Cérulea became a crackling blue whirlwind again.
"Ah, this is right," she said.
It didn't sound right. The voice was deeper, masculine even. She sounded suspiciously like a he.
She also looked suspiciously like a he.
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