A Succubus For Christmas

by M. E. Hydra

  “You'd enjoy this a lot more if you'd let me touch you,” the water girl scolded, her dainty face bossy-girl cross.

  “Uh,” Benchley said. The only thing that made sense to him was that he'd tripped up and banged his head while running around in the dark outside and was dreaming the whole thing.

  What the fook, it wasn't as if he was going anywhere anyway. He couldn't even stand up. He stopped thrashing and felt the motions of the jellied pool subside.

  “What do you want?” he asked.

  The girl smiled and licked her lips with a slender little tongue. Benchley couldn't be totally sure, but he thought she might have glanced at his exposed cock.

  “Relax,” she purred. “Let me pleasure you.”

  She descended down into the water until only her deep blue eyes were above the surface. They stared intently into his eyes as she moved through the water towards him. She slid between his legs and glided towards his crotch.

  A graceful tail rose out of the water beside Benchley and fell across his chest and arms. The touch of it against his naked flesh was a surprise. It was pleasantly cool and slid smoothly across his skin. It was translucent enough for him to be able to make out his chest hairs beneath it. It was also far stronger than its delicate appearance implied. Benchley felt panic surge as he realised he was pinned.

  “Relax,” the girl soothed.

  Benchley gasped and let his head fall back as he felt the delicate tip of her tongue dart against the underside of his scrotal sac. The sensation was maddeningly arousing. He bucked and thrashed in pleasure, but her tail held him down as the waterbed the pool had become gently undulated beneath him. Flicking and tickling the tongue ran down his perineum, playfully flickered around the rim of his anus before finally returning to toy with his balls.

  Soft hands placed themselves against his inner thighs and gently pushed his legs apart. She was going to rise up between his legs and Benchley lifted his head up, not wanting to miss the sight.

  Her face appeared first, soft lips pursing to gently kiss the tip of his penis. She rose higher. Full, naked breasts came into view, dangling so tantalising close to his cock. Droplets of water ran down her elegant neck and out across the swell of a breast.

  Freaky, but fooking gorgeous, Benchley thought.

  His cock still seemed undecided though, as it lay across his thigh in only a partially tumescent state.

  Fooking lager, Benchley thought, always a bastard for wrecking performance.

  The water girl just smiled and gently picked up his cock. She pursed her lips together and sucked his entire length into her mouth like it was a piece of spaghetti.

  Two shocks hit Benchley simultaneously. Her mouth was cool enough for him to notice, but not so cold it was uncomfortable. The second was a sudden urge to piss.

  Fooking lager, Benchley thought. Not now, not while his dick was in the poor girl's mouth.

  Too late he felt the stream surge from him. He tried to cut off the flow, but then noticed a very strange thing. Instead of gagging in revulsion the girl was shuddering in ecstasy, her eyes closed in pleasure. Her lips tightened around his cock and sucked on it like it was a straw. She rubbed her hand over his stomach, exhorting him for more. Benchley stopped trying to choke off the flow and instead relieved himself fully in her mouth.

  As he watched he saw a golden stream flow into her translucent head. Twirling like the tail of a kite it flowed down her neck. It swirled inside her breasts in a figure of eight pattern before finally dissipating in her lower body. Benchley didn't know whether to be disgusted or awed.

  Freaky, really fooking freaky.

  His bladder emptied, the girl sucked down the last few dribbles and then turned to look down at him. She licked her lips. “Mmm, I like your taste.”

  She gripped his stiffening cock with a liquid hand and lazily began to pump up and down.

  Where was the lubricant coming from? Her grip felt impossibly wet and frictionless.

  As he watched her hand seemed to lose some of its cohesion and began to melt around his cock as she worked it up and down. The cool, fluid sensation caused him to sigh in pleasure.

  This had to be a dream. Nothing could feel this good in real life.

  The girl stopped her languid strokes, but this was only the prelude to greater pleasure. She gave him a naughty little smile and then dropped her heavy breasts into his lap with a wet splat. It felt like a cool wave had crashed into his groin. He bucked uncontrollably at the sensation, but her tail flexed again to hold him firmly in place.

  Benchley's cock was smothered within her cool cleavage. He watched in amazement as her breasts began to melt around his dick and puddle in his lap. His cock was completely enveloped in a gelid embrace as more of her softening form flowed over and around it.

  The sensation was too much.

  The girl gave a contented little gasp as he popped a load directly into the molten flesh of her breast.

  Benchley felt a strange tugging sensation on his cock and watched as she drew his semen inside herself. He saw the white strands swirl around inside her body before they were pulled away deep inside.

  “Ah, so nice,” she said, her body shuddering with pleasure. “Please give me more.”

  She rose and her breasts released his cock with a wet slurping sound. Her tail slithered off his chest as she moved further out of the water. A liquid hand gripped his cock and brought it back to full hardness with smooth, fluid strokes. She climbed further up his body until her breasts were level with his. The perfect peach of her ass slid from the water to lie upon his hips.

  “I want you inside me,” she murmured.

  She drove down with her snake-like hips. There was no opening there that Benchley could feel, instead her skin seemed to give and fold around his cock like a sheath. Again there was that initial sensation of coolness as his dick was plunged into her body, but it was overshadowed by the pleasure of her slick surface rubbing against him.

  The water girl's face screwed up in pleasure as she pumped her hips up and down, driving against his erection. The rocking motions spread through the solidified surface of the pool beneath him.

  “Truly inside me.”

  Wasn't he already in her? Benchley thought. He could see his cock within her translucent body, illuminated by the silvery moonlight shining down from above.

  “Ooh,” the water girl moaned. “Let my inner fluids embrace you.”

  She lay across him and her gooey breasts began to melt over his chest.

  Benchley's cock was slick with its own juices and they seemed to be having an effect on her skin. It felt looser and thinner with each thrust.

  “Let my inner fluids absorb you.” Moaning exultantly she wrapped her arms tight around him.

  Absorb him! Benchley didn't like the sound of that. His eyes widened in fear as he tried to break out of her gelid grip.

  Too late. She arched her back and gave a great moan as her outer skin gave way. Benchley gasped as his cock plunged straight through into her liquid centre. There was an initial shock of coldness, like jumping into a fresh lake on a warm summer's day.

  “Ah, I have you now,” she murmured.

  Her internal fluids greedily sucked at his cock. They teased and swirled around it, forming eddies and currents that grew in strength to become a single whirlpool with Benchley's cock at the centre. The entire centre of her being was a living moving current and it gripped him in a pleasurable suction.

  “Let my inner fluids drink you.”

  Benchley groaned as a massive orgasm shuddered through his body. He ejaculated a massive jet of semen into her liquid body and watched as the milky strands spiralled through the centre of her being. The orgasm went on and on as her inner whirlpool sucked and sucked, pulling every last drop of semen from his cock.

  “Drink all of you down.”

  Her wet lips crushed against his in a kiss and Benchley felt an odd sensation. He felt his mouth dry up as his saliva was drawn from him. His lips and the flesh su
rrounding them began to tingle as the sensation spread.

  She was soaking up all of his moisture like a sponge, Benchley realised in horror.

  The girl broke off the kiss and stared down at him. Her eyes were filled with sorrow.

  “I need all of your fluids,” she said sadly.

  Benchley grunted in surprise as he felt the sudden release of his bladder. He watched another golden stream swirl around the centre of the translucent girl as her inner fluids greedily drank down his piss. The tingling sensation spread through his cock and groin as he felt the water within his tissues answering the inexorable tidal pull of her body.

  “There will be no pain, only pleasure. I promise.”

  She locked her lips back on Benchley's in a kiss and he felt the pulling sensation as his fluids were drawn into her. He felt her body melt around him and the cool sensation of her inner fluids against his flesh. It was a gentle suction at first, drawing the sweat from his pores, then it grew deeper, more insistent, a trickle that became a stream.

  She slowed down the currents around Benchley's cock, thickened them. The whirlpool became gentle throbbing waves. Tenderly she moved up and down, letting the internal motion of her fluids caress and stroke him to ecstasy. Using her tail she set the waterbed of the pool swaying in a soothing motion.

  Benchley felt the sensation of all his body's water at motion within him. It flowed in waves through him and into her. Water trickled out of his tissues and became a river flowing out through his cock. He came, and came, and came, blasting his fluids into the remorseless suction of her body. The orgasms rolled into one ultimate release as his whole body gave up its fluids.

  The river became a flood.

  Benchley's last sensation was one of total bliss as she gently drew out the last drops of water from his body.

  * * * *

  Peter Spielberg found the desiccated corpse floating in the pool the next morning.

  He wondered why he'd bothered putting up the signs in the first place. No bugger ever paid them any attention.

  Sighing, he waded in and grabbed hold of the body. They were always so light. Take out all the water and there really wasn't much weight left to a human being.

  As he headed back out of the pool he felt a gentle current run between his legs as the undine playfully tickled through his crotch. He heard silvery laughter and smiled.

  Spielberg was old. It wouldn't be long now before he took his tired old bones for a final dip in the undine's pool. Let her soothe all his cares away.

  Slayer vs. Succubus

  Brother Hayes looked nervously around as he shuffled down the corridor. His candle sent flickering shadows across the walls. In his overwrought imagination they took on the fearful shapes of imps and demons, grasping and clutching at him.

  God, please preserve my humble soul, he thought as he scurried down the corridor.

  What had they been thinking? For research purposes? Borgnine was mad and he was even more insane for going along with it.

  He opened the door and entered the large cavern of the dining room. All the lamps were out and silver moonlight sent fingers of light along the tables and floor.

  He might be okay.

  He scurried across the floor and headed for the door to the kitchens.

  It had seemed very busy with Borgnine when he'd run away. It might still be...still be...no best not to think of it.

  He heard a noise from above him in the darkness. It sounded like claws scrabbling on stone. There was another sound as well, leathery, like bats leaving a cave at dusk.

  Oh God, Hayes thought. He tried the handle of the door.

  Locked.

  He fumbled with a heavy iron key ring.

  A shadow passed overhead. Something landed softly next to Hayes. He caught the scent of an exotic perfume.

  No.

  He heard a feminine giggle, sultry and full of malice.

  Something leaned over and blew the candle out.

  * * * *

  “Carpenter, as your Vatican appointed superior, I order you not to take this case.”

  Debra Castle's angry face filled the monitor screen.

  “I can handle it,” Kurt Carpenter said. He put on an ammo belt filled with shotgun shells. He checked his gun and holstered it at his belt. He strapped a holster containing a wickedly sharp knife to his ankle.

  When did the church get so full of spineless pussies? There was a demon; he was a demon slayer, ordained by the pope himself. It didn't get much simpler.

  “No you can't. This is too dangerous.”

  “They said that about the Shoggoloth. I took care of it. This is just a minor demon.”

  Carpenter picked up a silver-edged katana from the rack on the wall and sheathed it behind his back.

  He'd heard the same whines when he went after the Shoggoloth.

  It's too powerful. It's too dangerous. We can't risk you. Blah blah blah.

  Carpenter didn't know the meaning of 'can't'.

  Sure, the Shoggoloth had nearly killed him, but if he'd wanted an easy fight he'd have stayed in the marines to fight the camel-humpers out in Eye-Raq.

  Demons were tough but they weren't invincible. You just had to hit them a lot harder.

  Carpenter had dropped a church on the Shoggoloth and driven a burning fuel tanker into the crater. Job done.

  “This is different,” Castle ranted at him from the monitor, her pinched face red.

  Carpenter ignored her. He opened up a leather bag and threw in a mace, an axe, an ornate crucifix, a mallet, some stakes and several vials of holy water.

  “We've invested too much time and money in training you for you to throw your life and soul away.”

  Carpenter put on a heavy biker's jacket. A flaming hand with the legend 'The Lord's Vengeance' was painted on the back. He picked up a shotgun and propped it on his shoulder.

  “Don't be an idiot Carpenter,” Castle continued to rant, an irritating mosquito whine in the background. “It's a succubus. Men can't fight–”

  Carpenter switched off the monitor. He put on his shades and stole a glance at himself in a mirror as he walked out of the room.

  Yeah, we're bad.

  * * * *

  “So gentleman, I hear you have a demon problem.”

  The two monks stared at Carpenter as if he'd just touched down from Mars. He supposed they didn't get out that much. The brown robes they wore looked like they belonged to some other age about five centuries ago. The older one with the weaselly face was the abbot. The younger man with the ferrety face was the abbot's assistant.

  Carpenter hoped they hadn't sworn an oath of silence or anything like that otherwise this was going to be a real fucking pain in the ass.

  “I'm the official demon slayer of the church,” Carpenter tried again. “I've come to kill your demon.”

  “The church sent you?” The abbot sounded puzzled, although that could be his normal expression. He looked old.

  “Oh thank the Lord,” the younger man chimed in. “Our prayers have been answered.”

  “So what can you tell me about this demon?” Carpenter asked as he followed them both into the brooding mass of the monastery. It had taken him the best part of a day to get here and the sun was already low in the sky, sending out long claws of shadow as it kissed the stone walls.

  “It arrived three nights ago,” ferret-face said. “I fear two of our juniors decided to experiment with forces far beyond their knowledge and summoned it. We found the remains of Brother Hayes in the dining room and Brother Borgnine in the library. The library is where the demon has taken up home. Every night it pollutes our dreams with...vile images. Two more of our junior brethren were unable to resist temptation and gave themselves to the demon.”

  “The demon is a succubus,” the abbot said, “a vile spirit of lust and lasciviousness. It is a sexual vampire that tempts men into sexual congress and then consumes their souls.”

  They took Carpenter through a large open court and then into a large di
ning area with long tables. Carpenter saw very little activity. Men in brown robes watched him from the shadows and spoke in hushed tones.

  “Many of the brethren have fled,” ferret-face continued. “I fear for the monastery's future if we are unable to get it to leave.”

  “You can stop being afraid,” Carpenter smiled wolfishly. “Your little demon is about to get a first class ticket back to hell.”

  They left the main dining room and walked up a small flight of steps, entering a cold stone corridor just inside the monastery walls.

  “Um, are you gay?” the younger monk asked.

  Carpenter preferred to let his fists answer that question. He punched out two of the little faggot's teeth and watched him spin into the wall before slowly collapsing in a heap.

  The abbot's eyebrows raised a little, but that was about as expressive as his face got.

  “I think what my younger assistant was trying to point out–albeit crudely–is that the church never sends a male demon slayer to fight succubi. They are purported to have a legendary...ahem...arousing affect on men.”

  Carpenter wondered what books the abbot had been poring over in the wee hours of the morning. Dirty bastard.

  Carpenter smiled. “There's no need to worry about me,” he said. “I'm a man of the world. I don't think it'll be able to offer me anything I haven't already done.”

  They stopped outside a heavy wooden door. This place was positively medieval, Carpenter thought. That was the problem with the crusty church types, they never moved on.

  Never send a male slayer, what kind of stupidity was that? Some old bishop had probably spouted it in a drunken stupor centuries ago and everybody since was too afraid of change to countermand it.