Paranormal Research Club

This chapter is largely devoted to the protagonist having sex with multiple female demons. Please remember that this chapter is Erotic Horror, and not intended for the squeamish or faint-of-heart. While there isn't actual incest occurring in this chapter, don't be shocked if you see references to it. There is some graphic violence towards the end, and there is a demon that threatens to violently assault a woman. You have been duly warned. All sexually active characters are 18 years of age or older. All rights reserved, and thank you for reading my work. You, dear reader, are the reason why I write.

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I walked out to the barn, carefully clutching the heavy glass perfume bottle in both hands. I was grateful that it hadn't broken inside the house near the ladies, and I didn't want to risk allowing it to break before I was ready to properly deal with the succubi that it contained. I ducked beneath the flapping strand of plastic yellow police tape and pushed the rotting wooden barn door open. The hinges were rusted and stiff, and they groaned ominously as the door slowly creaked open. I had the odd feeling that the sad old barn itself wished to deny me entry and be left alone with its tragic memories.

I entered into the large, dimly-lit space within the barn. There should have been plenty of ventilation blowing through the gaps in the decaying walls, but the air felt heavy, musty, and unwholesome. Everything about this decrepit old barn made me feel unwelcome. I peered into the dark corners where the light faded to reveal nothing but shadows and vague, indistinct shapes. A chill ran down my spine as I carefully scanned my surroundings.

I didn't sense Enyo's presence, which was good. I looked forward to getting to know the daughter that I had been forced to father the previous night, but her companionship here at this moment would serve to do nothing but complicate an already very dangerous situation. If I already had to single-handedly deal with four succubi in order to revive Dionysus, then it wouldn't be difficult at all for a goddess who wished to thwart my plans to do any number of things that could cause me trouble. And if Enyo did not know what my plans were, then I didn't want her getting involved and getting hurt. I chalked the absence of Enyo's presence to some enchantment or scheme on the part of Ishtar, and hoped that I could deal with the demons before Enyo found me and figured out what was occurring.

I moved a pile of rusted antique tools from a section of a stained, splintered workbench, and began removing my clothes. I folded them neatly into a pile on the battered antique wood, ensuring that my pants were on top in case I needed to access anything in the pockets. I felt increasingly vulnerable as I removed layer after layer of my clothing. I stood naked in the center of the room and began stretching my muscles out of old habit, as though expecting an exercise session or a martial-arts match.

I looked down at the bottle in my hand. The polished glass reflected the dusty beams of light that filtered through the cracks in the rotten walls. Beneath the glass, the dark contents writhed and swirled angrily. Something flesh-colored pressed against the glass from within. The succubi wanted out. I took a deep breath, and wondered if it was appropriate for me to pray for my safety. I remembered what Skagematuck had told me about the prayers of Erin, Rachelle, and Cherise, and I hoped that they were remembering me now. I decided that a brief prayer wouldn't hurt, and dedicated a moment to the task. If nothing else, it would help to clear and focus my mind on the task at hand.

I hefted the bottle, still surprised at how heavy it was. I tossed it into the air, and caught it. I smiled, watching the seething inky vapors swirl furiously against the glass. The demons didn't appear to enjoy having the bottle that contained them tossed about. Considering what they had done to the family that lived at this house, it was difficult for me to feel too sorry for them. I raised the bottle over my head, and then slammed it down hard against the dirt floor.

The bottle did not simply break. It literally exploded with a sound like a firecracker, releasing a churning cloud of noxious-looking black smoke that quickly filled the large barn with an impenetrable, swirling darkness. The vapors resembled the smoke from a pile of burning tires in appearance, but the smell was something different entirely. My cock was rock-hard even before I consciously recognized the delightful smell of sex that filled the air. I breathed in deeply, inhaling the scent of glorious, enticing, fertile feminine sexuality as the dark clouds rubbed against my nude body in an increasingly physical manner. The air was slowly clearing as I felt lips against my chest and hot breath against my penis. My hand brushed soft feminine buttocks.

The air was now clear enough for me to see around myself, and my breath caught in my chest as I saw the four impossibly beautiful figures that surrounded me. I knew that demons have no bodies in a truly physical sense of the term, and that what seemed to be physical bodies could only be a mockery of matter and mass. Even so, what manifested in front of me seemed every bit as real as anything that I had ever beheld in my life.

The succubi looked like obscene primeval archetypes of ancient, powerful, and unrestrained raw female sexuality that was frightening in its intensity, but which irresistibly attracted me to them. I now understood why the Aztecs had mistaken one of these creatures for a goddess. The bodies of the succubi appeared to have been perfectly designed for the purposes of seduction and the raw, carnal act of sex. Their shapely legs led up to broad hips and glorious asses, flat tummies and large breasts with prominent nipples. Every curve of their bodies was constructed perfectly for the purpose of luring and ensnaring their prey, driving any man insane with uncontrollable lust.

My eyes traveled their bodies, which were disturbing in their sheer perfection. Any normal, live woman will have some sort of imperfection in her body, and it's part of what makes her human. Somewhere, she will have a pimple, a mole, or a birthmark, a scar, or some cellulite. These women -or hellish mockeries of women, I reminded myself- did not even have a single wrinkle or goosebump on their flesh between the four of them. It was as though I were beholding living images that some demonic artist had airbrushed for the cover of a magazine. Their legs were exquisitely long and shapely, their eyes and breasts too sublimely shaped and flawless to be credible. I have heard that demons frequently display some sort of physical deformity to reflect their spiritual depravity. In these women, their impossibly exaggerated beauty could almost have qualified.

Two women were standing on either side of me, their soft hands holding me in place with the gentleness of a predator that has no fear that her prey will resist or flee. One of the two women was a sublimely curvaceous beauty with dusky skin, luxurious black hair, and beautiful dark eyes that spoke of Latin American ancestry. To her side was an adorable, petite, fresh-faced young blonde girl in her teens. She was short, slender, and athletic-looking. Her flawless skin and youthful green eyes made her look deceptively pure and innocent in spite of what I knew her to be. Although it was less visible on the Hispanic woman to my left, both of the girls had skin that was hot and slightly pinkish, as though they had just finished a very long, extremely hot bath. I deduced that these two women were the mortals that had been enslaved by Tlazlteotl and Queen Eisheth.

Before me stood a regal model of female perfection that could only have been Eisheth Zenunim, one of the beautiful and terrible Queens of Hell. Her ethereal grace and comeliness were breathtaking, and her image will forever be burned into my mind to fill my fantasies with wicked, sinful lust. She embodied the very concept of the sexy older woman, whose experienced and maternal body's raw sexuality and deceptively soft curves could overwhelm the common sense of any man.

"Relax, mortal," spoke Queen Eisheth Zenunim with a lewd smile, her voice hypnotic and soothing. Her dazzling, crystalline blue eyes fixed upon mine, drawing me into them. I felt as though I were staring into an immeasurably deep pool of cold, sapphire-blue water. "I won't do anything to you that you don't want me to do. I promise."

I doubted that Queen Eisheth had ever encountered any man who had not willingly given her anything that she had asked of him. Her long, glistening, platinum-colored hair flowed from beneath a gleaming golden diadem set with brilliantly sparkling fire-opals. Her face was splendidly ageless, neither young nor old, but endowed with a cold beauty that drew me helplessly to her like a moth to a flame. Her long, amber-colored robe was so sheer that it did nothing to hide her flawlessly voluptuous body as it flowed down over the fleshy mounds of her elegant breasts with their clearly visible nipples, and downward over her wide hips and round ass. She smiled sweetly, her wicked eyes gleaming with delight and anticipation. She stepped towards me and paused, looking into my eyes. A chill ran down my spine.

"Tlazlteotl?" Queen Eisheth said in a quizzical tone to a figure that was standing behind me.

"I can't read his mind either, your highness," the Aztec goddess of sexual sin replied.

I glanced over my shoulder at the Aztec goddess. Tlazlteotl had the beautiful dusky skin and long, glossy black hair of her warm homeland, dark eyes that glittered with seductive malevolence, and a wickedly alluring smile. She was nude aside from gleaming, intricately wrought golden ornaments, some of which pierced her dark nipples and her engorged clitoris. Her wide, womanly hips and the swells of her gorgeous ass swayed as she walked over to stand close to me, just within my personal space.

"Interesting," mused the platinum-haired succubus. "My name is Eisheth Zenunim, Queen of Whoredom, eldest and mightiest of the succubi, and one of the four glorious Queens of Hell. I must confess that I haven't met a mortal whose mind I couldn't read since the days when King Solomon himself was my plaything. He was one of the very few mortals that have ever indulged in the pleasures of my body and lived to tell the tale. Night after night I drank of his great soul until I was satisfied. He was a man with seven-hundred royal wives and three hundred concubines- a thousand women standing ready to pleasure him in any way he wished at any moment of the day or night! Still, he neglected them all as night after night he welcomed me back to his royal bedchamber, his body burning with dreadful need even as he grew more feeble by the day. He forced his greatest craftsmen to create golden idols in my honor, works of perfect craftsmanship such as the world had never seen previously or since. I remember the horror of the old priests when Solomon commanded his subjects to burn incense before my idols and hold glorious royal orgies in my name." Queen Eisheth chucked softly and smiled at her fond memories of corrupting the long-dead monarch.

"Like King Solomon, your mind is very much a closed book to me and I can sense a great deal of spiritual energy within you, but can tell very little about it. I cannot even say for certain whether I am sensing four souls within you, or perhaps five and maybe even vestiges of a sixth! I could almost swear that I can detect traces of at least one deity's essence flowing in your blood. You brought holy water and a blessed rosary with you, but you aren't ready to use them, and you are most certainly not a priest of the Abrahamic God. Trust me, I would be able to tell. The fact that you have removed your clothing before we arrived tells me that you know who we are, and have already agreed to give us what we want. That's actually a bit of a pity; seducing my prey is my favorite part of the hunt. I love watching faithful husbands struggle to be true to their beloved wives and their wedding vows, and holy priests begging their God for the strength to resist me. It makes the inevitable moment when they surrender to their lust and give themselves to me for eternity all the sweeter."

The succubus looked at me, smiling and tilting her head with a proud gesture that displayed the graceful curves of her slender neck. "Would you mind telling me who you are?" Her voice was friendly, natural, and conversational. But her sparkling blue eyes were as cold as distant stars. She smiled as she walked towards me, her shapely legs carrying her lovely body closer. "I won't take anything from you that you don't give me freely. But by the time we are done with you, you will be ready to give me anything I ask. You will beg me for the privilege of forever being my slave. I can promise you that." She smiled arrogantly, but there was a fearful frankness to her words, and I knew with terrible certainty that she was basing them upon many centuries of experience.

"My name is John," I answered, accepting the goddess' friendly handshake. Eisheth's hand felt warm and soft as it pressed against my own, and it was difficult to believe that this was not real flesh. It was a mockery of flesh, an illusion. I was feeling an illusion of skin, stretched over counterfeit flesh that was nothing but the deceptive projection of a soulless, incorporeal abomination that lacked any true physical form. Even knowing what I did about the succubus, I fought a strong urge to tell her more about myself as her cold blue eyes met mine. I smiled and closed my lips, hoping that I was giving nothing away in my eyes. She stared at me for a long moment. Her efforts to read my mind and her frustration at not being able to do so were clearly evident. Ishtar had done her job well.

Eisheth smiled at me. "Thank you, John. I have always felt that there is great power in a name. The ladies beside you are Kaitlyn, who was a mortal such as yourself up until two decades ago, and Maria, who has been Tlazlteotl's servant for about a century. Thank you for freeing us from the bottle. A meddling goddess put us there as a childish prank intended to interfere with a fun little project that these ladies and I were working on. As a result, there are two priests that missed out on the most amazing sexual experience they would have ever gotten to enjoy. Well, young man, the priests' loss is your gain. I would like to thank you for your help in the way that I know best."

The lovely succubus reached for her throat, where a beautiful, intricately crafted golden pin set with a brilliant fire-opal cabochon held her sheer amber-colored robe in place. I watched, spellbound, as she unclasped the golden pin. With a sultry smile, Eisheth opened her robe and let it slide softly to the dusty barn floor. The sheer silken fabric made a whispering noise as it slid gracefully from her body to pool at her feet, and my heart pounded in my chest as I saw her ample breasts revealed, and then the folds of her exquisite vulva. Her creamy breasts were magnificent, with proud, perfectly sized nipples. Her flawless stomach that was flat enough to be attractive, and yet soft enough to look feminine and sensual. Her hips were wide, leading down to long, flawlessly shaped legs. Between Eisheth's beautiful thighs, her vulva was adorned with tasteful, neatly-trimmed wisps of soft, platinum-colored pubic hair that did nothing to hide the alluring charms of her womanly cleft. Queen Eisheth was not merely desirable. She was irresistible.

The demon-queen smiled at my obvious appreciation of her body as she bent over, perhaps as much to show off her unspeakably perfect ass as to adjust the robe on the floor. "Begin your work, servants," she casually ordered the other three, "but remember that I shall feed first." I watched her perfect butt as she turned to walk a few steps away. She surprised me by turning and looking over her shoulder. "Do you like my ass?" she asked. "If you're good and don't try to resist us, I can let you have me in whatever orifices you want. It's all the same to me. Every part of my body was designed with but one purpose in mind. And that one purpose is something that you will, no doubt, enjoy immensely."

Tlazlteotl and the two young succubi moved gracefully towards me. Both of the pretty young slaves regarded me with hunger, but also eyes that reflected pity and remorse. They believed that they were about to participate in an act that would doom me forever, even as it had doomed countless men before me. They had no way of knowing how differently things would go from the way that the elder demonesses had planned, and that sympathy in their eyes told me with absolute certainty that not only had they both once been human, but at least some of their humanity remained within them.

Tlazlteotl's dark eyes locked onto mine, and she moved her beautiful face close to my own. "Eisheth is going to let us get you prepared for her," Tlazlteotl whispered in my ear. She gently trailed a knife-like point of a fingernail down my neck and across my chest. With a cold smile that revealed rows of perfect, white teeth, she wordlessly gestured to two other succubi that were holding me.

The two girls to my side stared at me with wide, frightened eyes, as though silently pleading with me to run. The look of despair in pretty young Kaitlyn's face quickly disappeared beneath a stern glare from Eisheth. Maria's fear for my safety and perhaps even horror at her own existence were clearly written on her features, and Tlazlteotl gloated over her as though she delighted in her slave's fear and loathing over what she had become. Glistening moisture was already appearing at the juncture of Tlazlteotl's thighs in anticipation of the wicked act that was to come.

"Prepare him, but don't you dare to feed before we do," the wicked Aztec demon-goddess said to the two younger succubi. Her voice was sweet, resonant, and mesmerizing. "You two can do the work of getting him properly aroused, and then wait to see if Eisheth and I feel like sharing him with you later."

Tlazlteotl's beautiful young slave regarded me with dark, soulful eyes as though wordlessly begging my forgiveness for what she was about to do. Maria pressed her soft lips gently against my neck, her tongue tracing delicately against my skin. Her beautiful brown eyes silently pleaded with me to run and save myself. She didn't want to be part of killing and condemning me, no matter how pleasurable I might find the experience. She didn't know what I knew about my magical armband.

"It will be fine," I whispered as I cupped her dainty chin in my hand and kissed her softly on the lips. It had been years since I had regularly practiced my Spanish with anyone, and I hoped that I made sense when I whispered, "Todo va a estar bien," in the most soothing tone that I could muster. I hoped that hearing words spoken in her own tongue would bring her some semblance of peace. As my saliva met and mingled with hers, an almost electrical jolt of raw lust pulsed through my veins. Something within her saliva was drowning out my ability to reason and think rationally, overwhelming my higher brain with the sheer force of some impossibly potent magical aphrodisiac.

As I kissed the beautiful young woman, she pressed me backwards into a dusty old chair that had apparently been gathering cobwebs in the barn for many years. Maria slid in front of me and moved to sit in my lap, facing away from me but looking back over her shoulder. Her long, glossy, black hair felt soft as it caressed my pectoral muscles and stomach. She reached downward and beneath herself until her delicate hand gently circled my cock, stroking my already rigid member into impossible hardness as she lowered her pelvis towards my lap. She stoked my cock with her hand, while rubbing my glans against her dripping-wet pussy. I could almost enter her, but she didn't let me. She had superhuman control over her body, moving rhythmically and smoothly as she ground her pussy and ass against my manhood.