"Did you think I was done with you?" she said.
George had thought she was done with him, to the point of doing him in. His relief at finding himself alive and still breathing was tempered by his fear of the demon sitting astride him. She still had his penis.
"And don't think the usual male weakness will save you," Nicole said.
Her vagina pulsed. A warm, thick fluid poured into her fleshy cavity and submerged George's trapped cock. Nicole closed her eyes and murmured. Her vaginal walls slowly undulated, stirring the fluid around his erection and massaging it into his flesh.
George gasped. His hips twitched. His cock surged back to full hardness and strained, eager to burrow deeper inside her. The sudden rush of blood made him feel woozy.
"I can keep you hard for weeks," Nicole purred.
She wriggled her hips, rubbing more of her juices into George's throbbing penis. He couldn't move. The slightest motion and his over-aroused cock would rub up against her vaginal walls, incapacitating him with a burst of intense pleasure. She had him completely helpless and she knew it.
He noticed something odd with the tattoos on Nicole's side, just below the curve of her right breast. The black lines didn't seem as clearly delineated as before. It was like the black ink was running. Or—and this must be a trick of the subdued light—Nicole was bleeding as the sharp lines of her tattoos dug into her flesh like razor wire.
"What happened . . . earlier?" George asked. He feared the answer.
"You passed out," Nicole said. "Anyone would think you'd never had sex before."
Her lips turned up in a mischievous smile.
"Sorry," she said. "Couldn't resist."
She tweaked his nipples.
"No one will be able to tease you about your virginity in the future," she said. "It's gone. The wicked succubus sucked it right out of you."
"Was that all you took?" George asked. "It felt like . . ."
His recollections were hazy. He remembered both terror and incredible pleasure, a feeling of coming apart and being drawn up into Nicole's body as she lay on top of him.
". . . you were sucking out my soul."
It was strange to use the word. George didn't really believe in souls and that kind of thing—
He hadn't believed in the existence of devils either . . .
—but it seemed like the only explanation which made sense.
Nicole laughed. "Don't be silly. You wouldn't be talking to me now. Taking out a person's soul is like removing the batteries from a toy soldier. They cease to function."
A chill ran up George's spine. She was speaking from experience.
Nicole leant over him until her abyssal eyes were staring right into his.
"You had sex with a succubus, a being with complete mastery of the carnal arts. For your first time. It was too intense. You passed out."
It sounded like it made sense, George thought. But what about—
No, best not to go there. Let those memories stay buried in the dark, forgotten corners of his mind. A man could go mad if he thought about it too much. He could throw his life away in a crazy, self-destructive quest to recapture those sensations.