Excessica Anthology BOX SET Winter (36 page)

Now
she felt strangely depleted, as if more than her relative naiveté had been
taken from her. What had the monster seized, apart from her reluctant passion?
She dreaded the answer.

Then
it came to her: the demon had stolen her innocence. She was adult, and sexually
seasoned, but now she knew that she had known almost nothing and experienced
less. She had been forcibly introduced to her own ugliest buried lust. Because
despite her horror of the process, she had in a perverted manner liked it.

She
slept, emotionally exhausted, and did not wake until morning. There was Lita,
watching her. “Did it come?” she asked anxiously.

She
could not lie about this. “Yes it came, dear.” She was aware there was more
than one meaning there, but that couldn't be helped. She also was not about to
tell her innocent daughter of the monstrous degradation she had suffered. That
would be her secret, preferably for life. She had had sex often enough, and
understood its variations; the violation had been of her will more than her
body. Indeed, her body was untouched. It was her spirit that had been dirtied.
“You were right: there is a monster.”

“I
knew it! Did you make it go away?”

“Not
yet, dear,” Solita said grimly. Because she knew the demon would inevitably
come again, in both senses. They had to be rid of the monster, lest it inflict
even more unspeakable things on her and her daughter.

She
was sure the demon was only pausing between degradations, and had her marked
for more and worse. She had to stop it, preferably permanently. But how could
she balk a thing that could not be seen or touched in the mortal realm? She
needed help.

She
moved into the morning routine, acting far more upbeat than she felt. Lita had
faith in her, and she had to justify that. But how?

Once
Lita was off the school, Solita repaired to the phone book. There it was, under
MAGIC: a small local shop. Somehow she know that it dealt in more than magic
tricks.

She
went there. The proprietor was an older woman with a supremely homely face and
body. “I need a—a demon repellent,” she said.

The
proprietress did not laugh. “What kind of demon?”

“A
sexual predator. The kind that preys upon women in bed.” Would the woman laugh?

“An
incubus. They are repelled only by sexual repulsiveness.” She glanced
appraisingly at Solita. “You don't qualify.”

So
it was no secret who had the problem. “Then what will work?”

“Nothing
will repel it once it has oriented on a particular subject. Do you comprehend
the nature of these demons?”

All
too well, erotically. But that was not the question. “No.”

“They
are immortal sexual spirits that seek sexual prey. They don't care whether it is
single, married, or juvenile, only that it is desirable by their standard. They
try to take over a woman by forcing her to have orgasms with them, one per
night. Three nights, and they take possession of her soul. Then they can
preempt her physical body, and assume mortal form. The woman, of course, is
doomed; she becomes the host for the incubus. It is not a pretty fate.”

“It
is not,” Solita agreed grimly. “What will kill it?”

“Nothing
will kill it. As I said, it is immortal. But there are measures that can be
taken to nullify it. Are you interested?”

“Yes,”
Solita said guardedly. The woman was angling for something.

“There
is a potion that will trap an incubus in much the same manner as he traps an
innocent mortal woman. That is to say, if he orgasms three times in its
presence, it locks on him, and he becomes the sex slave of the one who
fashioned the potion. Any portions of a mortal soul he has garnered are
forfeit, returned to their source. The problem is getting him to deliver those
orgasms in the right context. Demons are generally canny about such things.”

“You
made the potion!” Solita said, catching on.

“If
he orgasms in the potion, regardless who contains it, he will become the sex
slave of an unattractive woman,” she agreed. “A fate worse than death for him.”

“But
he's huge and gnarly and insatiable,” Solita said. “He slobbers and thrusts
with finger, tongue, and I am sure phallus once he gets it into play. What
woman would want that?”

“The
difference is that she controls him, not vice versa. He must do as she bids,
constantly. He will react to it much as you react to him: with helpless
revulsion. The pleasure will be all hers.”

Solita
thought of the way she had been forced into orgasm via the tongued anus. She
was disgusted anew, but she could appreciate how a certain type of woman might
like that treatment, provided she had control. It would serve the demon right.
“What does this potion cost?”

“For
you, nothing. You would be doing me a favor. For him, everything.”

Solita
smiled. “I believe we have a deal.”

The
woman fetched a small ornate bottle containing a dark fluid. “One caution. You
must get him to orgasm three times before your own third. Otherwise you will
not have a chance to refresh the potion before he indulges again on another
night.”

“I
get it,” Solita said, shuddering. “How can I do that?”

“If
you appear willing, or at least resigned, he will give you some freedom. He
takes sex as he can get it, but he prefers it with a woman who is not
constantly fighting him. It's not that he cares for her emotionally; he
doesn't. She is merely his vessel of lust. But it costs him energy to control
her, which subtracts from his fulfillment. You do not want to seem eager,
because that will be suspicious, but if you give up and let him have anything
he wants without resistance, perhaps in the vain hope that he will then release
you, he will take it. The first orgasm may even make him eager for another, in
a different venue.”

“Like
going from vagina to anus?”

“Or
throat,” the woman agreed. “They like variety, and they can be quite
imaginative.”

Just
so. “How do I apply this?”

“Put
some in any likely avenue, and renew daily. His substance must touch it as he
orgasms. He will not be aware of it, and it will have no effect on you. It is
spiritual bait.”

“Like
rat bait,” Solita said. “The rat eats this tasty treat, and it has no apparent
effect, so next day it eats some more, and it has no effect. By the third day
it is too late; it has thinned the blood, and the rat will die.”

“A
nice analogy,” the woman agreed.

“Something
that perplexes me,” Solita said. “He did not have full sex with me. Instead
he—he used his hands and tongue. Why didn't he use his penis?”

“The
powers that be decree that a victim must have a fair chance to escape. So the
incubus can bring his penis into play only gradually. The first night with a
given subject he can reach his penis no higher than her knees. The second
night, her genital region. The third night, her head. If she flees after the
first night, by traveling across a sea where he can't follow, she escapes his
phallus. If she flees after the second night, she saves her soul. But by the
third night, she is his.”

That
explained a lot. The demon had used his tongue for sex because it was the only
organ he could get into her body. But she would not be that lucky again.

“Thank
you,” she said sincerely. “I will be sending him to you in a few days, I hope.”

“I
will be expecting him,” the woman said grimly. “And thank
you.
"

Solita
took the bottle home. In the evening she uncorked it and poured some potion on
her hand. It was a translucent elixir, like a hair conditioner, but odorless.
She swabbed it into her vagina, then put some on a bit of cloth and pushed it
into her anus so that it would deposit the potion. Unsatisfied that this
sufficed, she fetched a small syringe and squeezed a few drops in. Finally she
swallowed some, trusting that it would suitably coat her mouth and throat. It
was tasteless, but she hoped potent. As an afterthought she spread some on her
breasts, especially around the nipples, just in case.

“What
are you doing, mommy?”

Oops.
She hadn't been aware that Lita was paying attention. “Just applying some
lotion.”

“Can
I have some too?”

Oops
again. Yet wouldn't it make sense to protect her daughter too, just in case?
Lita had been spared despoilment only by the rule that restricted the demon to
her legs the first night. “You may if you wish.”

Lita
took some potion and poked it carefully into her several orifices, copying what
she had observed. To her it was a game. “Are you going to sleep in the bed
again? The monster might come.”

“I
believe the potion will discourage the monster.” That was true in essence, the
same way rat bait discouraged rats by sickening or killing them. The incubus
would not be sickened or killed, but would be enslaved, and that was perhaps
fitting. She suspected the magic shop proprietress had some bizarre sexual
tastes. Why else would she want the forced attentions of a thing like this? The
only liability was that Solita would have to suffer seemingly willing sex with
the horny incubus. She was sure that would not be fun.

“Oh.
Okay.” The child lost interest. That was an excellent sign.

That
night Solita lay on the bed again, and Lita took the couch. Her heart was
pounding. Would this sexual ploy work, or had the shop sold her a bill of
goods? Would the demon take the bait? There were so many uncertainties.

And
the incubus came. She couldn't see him in the darkness, but smelled his dusky
odor. She was perversely relieved. She hated gratifying his infernal lust, but
she also wanted vengeance for what he had inflicted on her already. She wanted
him doomed the same way he sought to doom her.

He
caught her feet and pulled her legs apart. Solita did not try to resist. She
was almost satisfied. Now she had a role to play.

“Why
don't you just do it fast and go away?” she asked soundlessly. “Since I can't
stop you anyway, you obscene spook.”

She
felt the demon pause, considering. Then to her surprise he spoke, similarly
soundlessly. “Spread your legs and arms.”

She
did, lying supine, exposed. “Fast,” she repeated. “I hate it and it want it
over.” Which was true, if not the whole truth.

“I
will do it as pleases me, slut.” He mounted her from above. The gulf did not
open up below the bed. It seemed he wanted her to be supported by the bed so he
could more readily do the deed. That was another relief; she had hated being
suspended while her body was exposed to his lascivious attentions.

“It
doesn't please
me,”
she said. “I just want to get it over with so you'll
leave me alone.” This was emotional resistance, which was probably a turn-on
for this brute.

“I
will never leave you alone, wench.”

“Then
why should I cooperate?” she demanded, and tried to close her arms and legs.

But
it was of course too late. He merely touched her limbs, and they seemed to be
manacled in place. It was evidently easier for him to paralyze her than to pry
her open against her resistance.

He
oriented his huge hard phallus, then rammed it into her full depth. It was a
bruising penetration.

“It
hurts!” she protested, with no exaggeration. But she did not try to resist
further in any way.

“Great!”
He thrust hard, withdrew, and thrust again, harder. She felt as if she were
being impaled on a massive stake, like an ancient Assyrian victim. The thing
was shoving impossibly far into her, displacing her internal organs. How big
was it—nine inches, a foot, and wide in proportion? The tongue had been
bad, but this was worse. If this had been physical, she would have to have
restorative surgery. She let her tears flow, not having to fake her pain.

The
worst of it was that she knew her extreme physical and emotional discomfort
pleased the demon, enhancing his pleasure of the occasion. He wanted her to
suffer.

In
moments his orgasm came upon him. A huge amount of burning hot fluid coursed
into her body, setting her on fire.

She
screamed in agony as the blazing mass suffused her abdomen, but did not resist.

“You'll
do,” he grunted as his monstrous emission ebbed.

She
hoped so. He had just had his first orgasm in the potion, while she had not.
She had gained a point, as it were.

He
withdrew his member. Another bad aspect was that she discovered she could not
let the bolus of ejaculate flow back out. It was solidifying inside her as it
cooled, keeping her tissues horribly stretched.

Now,
temporarily depleted, the incubus focused on the rest of her body. His gross
face came down on her breasts, taking them halfway in one at a time. He licked
and sucked like a monstrous baby.

She
twisted under him as if trying to escape his attention, but only succeeded in
pushing one breast farther into his mouth. “Damn,” she swore, though she was
pleased. She was working him up again, still without her own orgasm.

The
incubus slid his face on up her body until it was opposite hers. She could not
see him in the darkness, but she felt his rancid breath.
Oh shit
, she
thought.
He's going to kiss me
.

He
kissed her, and she firmed her lips though the contact sickened her. She wanted
him to continue working himself up, after all. So he would have another orgasm
in the potion.

Then
she had a scary thought: if he did it again in her vagina, would it be
effective? Or would the potion there be used up? Surely he wouldn't, because it
was already swollen with that bolus of goo. But if, perversely, he did?

“You'll
do,” he repeated. “Now stand on your head.”

“I
can't do that!” she protested. “I was never good at sports of any kind. I just
fall over.”