Succubus Lord 12

by Eric Vall

  Chapter 1

  “Jacob,” Ira, the Sister of Wrath, gasped almost orgasmically, “I think this has the potential to be the greatest adventure we’ve ever been on.”

  “I’m still trying to figure out what ‘BDSM’ is, and why anyone would want to dedicate an entire conference to it,” the angel Ariel mused.

  “Why did we bring her along again?” Invidia hissed as we approached the entrance of the Sheraton just off the outskirts of downtown Sioux Falls. “And why are we all the way out in this rinky-dink place in the middle of nowhere?”

  “Ariel kept insisting that she come along, even though she had no clue what this place is all about,” I chuckled to myself. “She’s far too innocent for her own good.”

  “I heard what you and your big cock did to her,” Invidia reminded me. “She’s far from the innocent little angel she pretends to be.”

  “I just hope they’ve got good hors d’oeuvres, bro,” a human-formed Todd mused. “Or since they’re all sadomasochists, should I call them ‘whore d’oeuvres?’”

  “It’s a conference,” I explained, “there’s gotta be something around here. And if there isn’t, we can swing by Big Kahuna’s afterwards and grab a calzone or something.”

  “Now you’re speakin’ my language, Jakey!” Todd smacked his lips as he patted his potbelly. “Let’s off these weird fucks quickly and then grab some grub.”

  “Excuse me?” Ira shot back in a semi-offended tone. “There is nothing wrong with being into BDSM. In fact, it’s very liberating.”

  “I don’t see what’s so liberating about being tied up with a bunch of knots that’d make a sailor jealous.” Todd shrugged. “Isn’t being tied up, like, the opposite of liberating?”

  “Is BDSM like, a branch of the Boy Scouts?” Ariel asked innocently. “Those kids like to tie knots and all.”

  Todd and Ira looked at each other for a moment as slow smiles crept up their faces. Then they both burst out into a fit of laughter.

  “If there’s BDSM going on in the Boy Scouts, we’ve got some biiiiiig issues, Little Mermaid,” Todd guffawed.

  “It’s probably better that you find out for yourself,” I interjected as we approached the registration line. “Words don’t do it justice.”

  “I just can’t believe we had to come back to Earth,” Invidia scoffed. “Especially South Dakota of all freaking places.”

  “It’s where all of Beelzebub’s remaining cultists are hiding out,” I reminded the succubus. “Oliver and Jane drove them out of the Southwest, but they weren’t able to finish the job completely thanks to their numbers being spread out so thin. Luckily for them, we don’t need strength in numbers to kill off a couple of human magic users.”

  “Why are we even bothering with humans, though?” Ariel questioned as she scanned the table for her name badge. “Isn’t that a little below a Demon King’s pay grade?”

  “Not when the humans in question are from the Cult of Beelzebub,” I growled. “Our intel told us the final sect of our enemy’s cult has been hiding out in this area, and their members attend this conference every single year.”

  “Maybe I’m just missing something, Jakey,” Todd said curiously, “but why do a bunch of cultists voluntarily come and hang out in South Dakota?”

  “Because this is the place to be for all things BDSM, sadomasochism, and torture,” Ira reminded the imp. “For cultists, those little things are just all in a day’s work. And now that their numbers are so low, they’ll be even more desperate to learn new techniques and recruit.”

  “That’s why I wanted to be here personally when the last little bit of Beelzebub’s influence is wiped off the face of the Earth,” I explained, “Even better, I wanted us to be the ones to do it.”

  “Found mine!” Ariel exclaimed happily as she snatched up a tiny card.

  “I registered her under the name ‘Norma Stits,’” Todd snickered.

  The redheaded angel held the name tag up to her face, squinted at its contents, and then quirked her eyebrow. Then the color drained from her face as her mouth dropped open, and she held up the card for us all to see.

  “Am I seeing this right?” the angel gasped as she pointed to the corner of the card. “Because to me, it looks like there’s a smiley face with a ball gag in his mouth, getting whipped by a multi-tailed whip. Even weirder … he’s still smiling!”

  “Your eyes don’t deceive you,” Ira giggled. “That’s Barry Bondage, the mascot for the local BDSM communities.”

  “Wait … ” Todd muttered in awe, “they--they all have logos?”

  “That’s right,” Ira mused, “in the Southwest we have Edging Edith, and I know in the New York area there’s one called ‘Peggy the Pegger.’”

  “Jakey,” Todd gasped as he put his hand on my shoulder, “I think I just died and went to comedy heaven. Fucking pinch me, bro.”

  I obliged the imp’s request, and he pulled away with an overdramatic “yeow!”

  “Why is he smiling, though?” Ariel pondered, still completely clueless. “Is this inferring that it’s a good thing to get whipped?”

  “Now you’re thinking like one of us.” Ira grinned as she snatched up her nametag. “There. ‘Tess Stickles.’ Very clever, Todd.”

  “Thank you, Crazy Eyes,” the imp in disguise said as he bowed, “I worked really hard on that one.”

  “Ivana Suchum?” Invidia rolled her eyes as she picked up her identification card. “How mature.”

  “If you think that one’s mature,” Todd snickered as he grabbed the last two passes, “wait until you see what me and Jakey are called!”

  I took the name tag out of the imp’s hand, glanced at the name, and nearly doubled over with laughter.

  “Lou Skunt,” I laughed. “How did they not stop you from entering these as real names?”

  “It’s a BDSM conference, bro.” The blond imp shrugged as he put the lanyard over his head. “Now, follow me into the wonderland of goodies.”

  “Sure thing, ‘Drew P. Pecker,’” I laughed, and then I motioned for the group to follow Todd into the main room of the conference.

  This place was much smaller than the hotels I was used to out in Phoenix. Instead of large, sprawling hallways decorated to look like the intricate landscape of the southwest or a luxurious aesthetic, this place looked about as simple as you could get. It had a simple white and brown color scheme, with a few tables and chairs that lined the hallway toward the main conference area. Around us was a wide-open space where you could look up and see the hallways of each floor, along with the doors of the various rooms.

  The five of us meandered down the main drag of the building until we came to a set of double doors with a security guard standing off to the side. The man had a stern look on his face as he watched us proceed, and he looked like he was at least double my size.

  As we approached, he held up his hand in a silent order, and we stopped in our tracks.

  “The hotel has asked me to run through the ground rules for all participants before you enter,” the man explained in a deep, booming voice. “Equipment out on the floor may only be tested while fully clothed. However, if you want to try them out in a more … detailed way, there are a few meeting rooms on the west side of the conference hall. Enjoy your stay at the Sheraton.”

  The guard gave us one last nod before he opened the door, and our ears were hit with the loud murmur of the crowd, intertwined with screams of joy, laughter, and what I only assumed was the sound of whips on bare skin.

  “Uh, thanks,” I responded as we passed through the door.

  The second we were inside, Ira took a deep, hearty whiff of the air.

  “Ahhhh,” the Sister of Wrath sighed, “don’t you love the smell of fresh leather, burning wax, and twin
e? It’s enough to make a girl change her panties. I seriously wish I could make a candle out of it and put it in my quarters twenty-four seven.”

  “I already talked to Yankee Candle, Crazy Eyes,” Todd shook his head, “they told me they weren’t interested in ‘BDSM Blues’ whatsoever, and they were gonna call the police if I kept sending them the strange-smelling packages in the mail.”

  “W-What is this place?” Ariel gasped as she began to look around and take it all in. “Is it … are they … is this supposed to be fun for them?”

  “It’s a kink, honey,” Ira giggled and slapped the angel on the shoulder, “I’m sure you’ve got plenty of them yourself. We just have to … tease it out. I’m sure there’s a French Tickler around here somewhere that we could--”

  “Let’s stay focused on the mission, guys,” I interrupted and tried to get us back on track. “I know there’s, like, a few hundred people here, but it won’t be hard to spot Beelzebub’s cultists. Just look for the giant, demon-shaped wings tattooed on their left wrist, the one with the fly above it that looks like it was ripped straight out of a Medieval painting.”

  “I already see one,” Invidia noted with a nod, “right over there by the hanging harness.”

  I glanced over and, sure enough, the Sister of Envy was right. Attached to the top of one of the vendor’s booths was a harness made out of rope and leather. There was a man tied up inside of it with his arms pulled behind his body and his legs pulled up into his chest in a way that couldn’t possibly be comfortable. But that didn’t matter. All that mattered was the ink on his left arm.

  The Mark of the Lord of the Flies.

  “We have to get them isolated and then take them out as inconspicuously as possible,” I explained to my friends. “There should be about fifteen of them total, and they’re gonna be scattered all around this room.”

  “Then it sounds like it’s time for the gang to split up,” Todd interjected, and then he pointed between Vidia and Ariel. “Velma, you come with me and Scoob. We’ll let Fred and Daphne over there go off so they can make out or fuck or whatever they do when they’re all alone.”

  “Oh, I have big plans for Jacob after seeing all these wonderful toys…” Ira mused.

  “Let’s just stick to the mission for now,” I reminded her. “Work now, play later.”

  “If you insist,” the Sister of Wrath sighed and then grabbed my hand. “Let’s get to work. The sooner we finish off all these cultists with good taste, the sooner we can have some fun.”

  “Byyyyeee, Jakey!” I heard Todd call out as Ira led me further into the crowd. “Remember to use lots of lube!”

  Very funny.

  Ira led me through the main floor of the trade show until we came across our first target. He was standing there, conversing with a vendor in front of a very peculiar product. In the center of the booth sat a wooden stock with three holes, just like the ones used for punishment back in the day.

  “We need one of those,” Ira begged. “You could lock up my head and arms, spread my legs, and then go to town while I tried to escape. I’m getting all hot and bothered just thinking about it.”

  “Focus,” I chuckled. “We need to get this guy alone, and we need to see if he can lead us to any of his friends.”

  “Only one way to find out.” The dark-haired succubus shrugged, and then she walked over to the man with the tattoo.

  “Helllloooo there, my BDSM buddy!” she exclaimed as she began to run her hand along the splintery material of the stocks. “What’s going on with this little contraption?”

  The man’s eyes lit up as he gawked at both the sexy succubus and the fun new toy she was leaning up against.

  “It’s the newest line,” the man answered giddily, “they say the holes in this thing are adjustable, so they can get as tight as you want ‘em.”

  “Hmmmmm,” Ira purred, “I like it nice and tight.”

  The man was now visibly sweating, and I swore I could hear his heartbeat from all the way over here.

  “You, uh … you wanna go test this thing out?” he asked awkwardly. “There are some ‘play rooms’ with it installed … ”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” the succubus shot back, and then she began to walk toward the back rooms.

  I kept a safe distance as I trailed the succubus and the cultist through the main floor of the convention, until we hit a series of doors on the wall, each one labeled with a sign that read “play room” and then listed the sponsor underneath.

  The cultist peeked his head into the first door, looked back at Ira, and grinned from ear to ear.

  “This is the one!” he exclaimed. “Now get in there and get undressed, so I can ride you raw.”

  Warm rage erupted in my chest at the thought of this bastard touching Ira, but I forced it back until it was little more than a calm simmer. The Sister of Wrath knew what she was doing, and I didn’t want to blow her cover too early.

  “Oh, no … ” Ira shot back playfully. “You’re going in it first. After all, you were the one who wanted to test it … ”

  The cultist somehow grinned even wider, and then he disappeared behind the door. Ira shot me a reassuring wink, and then she followed him into the room.

  I ran over to the door, leaned up against it, and kept guard. The last thing we needed was some random person coming in and sounding the alarm.

  Unfortunately, these rooms weren’t made for the sort of play that went on at this kind of convention. They weren’t soundproof whatsoever, and I could hear everything going on inside them clearly.

  “Easy there!” I heard the man gasp. “I may be into a good choking every now and again, but I like to breathe.”

  “No need to worry, my dear … ” Ira cooed back, but then her voice turned serious. “You won’t be breathing in another second anyway.”

  “Wait, what--” the man began, but then the succubus must have made her move.

  There was a loud, wet cracking sound, and all was silent.

  Then I slowly pulled open the door, slipped inside, and observed Ira’s work.

  She had twisted the bolt on the stock so tightly it had completely crushed the cultist’s neck, and his head was now hanging forward at an inhuman angle. Meanwhile, the rest of his body was as limp as a dead fish.

  “That was easy,” Ira mused as she brushed her hands together. “Now, we just need to dispose of the body.”

  “Easy,” I explained as I summoned green Hellfire into one hand and red in to the other. “We vaporize the sucker into ash, and then he’ll be the night janitor’s problem.”

  I swiftly used my emerald spell to undo the stocks and then toss the man’s body a few feet into the air. The second it was airborne, I threw up a wall of purple flames behind him and then incinerated his body with a blast of red. The ashes of his remains fluttered to the floor like falling snow, and soon they were embedded safely in the carpet, camouflaged from the human eye.

  “Ohhhhhh,” Ira moaned from the other side of the room, “can we do this one next?”

  The Sister of Wrath was running her hand tenderly along a large, flat piece of latex with a hose attached to it, all controlled by a large red button. There were transparent pieces of plastic that appeared to be eye holes, as well as a tube directly underneath.

  “Do I even want to know what that is?” I asked cautiously.

  “It’s a vacuum bed,” Ira purred. “I’ve always wanted one of these things. Stay here, and I’ll go find our next victim.”

  The dark-haired succubus dashed out of the room before I could protest, and I was left alone in the room full of BDSM treasures.

  On top of the stocks and the vacuum bed, I observed a table full of clamps of varying sizes, a giant cage with a chain attached to the inside, a set of gauntlets with spikes on the inside, and a barrel full of all sorts of instruments I’d never seen before.

  After a few minutes, the door opened once more, and Ira sauntered in with not one, but two men. They both had their heads shaved do
wn into a buzzcut, and they had comically large mustaches that made them look like the Mario brothers.

  “Is this the guy you were telling us about?” one of them asked giddily. “I can’t wait to see all the crazy shit he’s going to--”

  Before he could even finish his sentence, I summoned green Hellfire into my hand, called forth one of the gizmos in the barrel, and lashed out at the first cultist.

  Apparently, I’d snatched up a cat o’ nine tails with a black leather handle and several small, metal chains with spiked balls on the end. The pointed spheres struck the fucker directly in the face, and he stumbled backwards in a huff. However, he wasn’t fazed.

  In fact, he actually let out tiny fucking moan as he held his bloodied face.

  “Holy shit, this guy is good!” he mused. “And he’s got spellcasting abilities? Where has he been hiding this whole time?”

  “Oh, oh, do me next!” the second man begged and stuck out his chest.

  “Uhhhh.” I glanced between the whip and the over-excited man for a few seconds before I made up my mind.

  Nope. This was too fucking weird.

  Instead of fulfilling these guys’ little fantasies, I summoned up two balls of red Hellfire, took aim, and blasted them at point-blank range. The heat from the attack was super intense. I felt it radiating from my open palms and, for a moment, feared it might damage the toys around us. However, the second I released my attack, all that was left of the two cultists were their own ashes.

  “Oh, come on,” Ira pouted and crossed her arms, “I wanted to use the bed.”

  “Fine, fine,” I chuckled, “go find another cultist. This time, I promise not to get ahead of myself like that.”

  “You’d better not,” the succubus warned jokingly, “or else I’ll just make you get in the bed.”

  Ira pranced out of the room and left me alone once more. This time, I was just going to wait patiently.

  I plopped down at a nearby table, laid the cat o’ nine tails on top of it, and then leaned back and waited for our next victim. No sooner had I gotten comfortable did Ira dash back into the room with another cultist.

  I noticed immediately the succubus who entered was not regular Ira, but rather her Dom.