Stacy climbed off Frank; her long tongue was
still attached to his pole. He was very close to
cumming, but Stacy’s tight grip delayed his
release like a too-tight c–k ring. Zafira pulled
her strap-on out of Frank’s anus and perched her
mouth above his member.
“You don’t deserve to die inside my p—y. Hell,
you don’t deserve to die in my mouth, Frank. But
alas, your life ends now.”
“Please! Don’t kill me!” he begged.
His cry for mercy fell on deaf ears. Zafira
swallowed his c–k all the way to Stacy’s
tongue-grip of the base. The succubus vacuumed
him with demonic strength, drawing vast amounts
of blood to the tip of his d–k. Her suction was
painfully intense, but not enough to stop Frank’s
final o—-m. When Zafira snapped her fingers,
Stacy’s tongue let go, releasing a flood of Frank’s
c-m into Zafira’s mouth. She ingested everything;
his c-m, his life force, his soul.
Frank felt his very being separate from his
shriveled form. He was drawn inside Zafira’s
unholy body, tumbling inside a giant black vortex,
flipping and flying helplessly through the void. His
ears burned and bled from the roaring sound of
countless souls screaming in agony.
The darkness that was now his prison took the
shape of millions of flying red-eyed serpents. The
creatures latched on to Frank with razor sharp
teeth, seemingly leaving no wound — but their
bite stung far worse than Zafira’s whip. He
struggled in vain against them, desperately trying
to escape the intolerable swarm of evil.
He realized this was only the beginning of his
torment when he caught a glimpse of someone
familiar: Travis Dunham, the owner of the club at
the heart of the s-x-trade ring. His ethereal body
was chewed almost in half, leaving him in
ceaseless pain. They made eye contact with each
other for a brief moment. Travis then said
something that sent Frank’s mind hurtling into
the deepest pit of despair.
“They never stop!”
Cole sat on the edge of his couch in his
apartment, waiting for Zafira as he promised. He
popped the lid off his sixth bottle of beer,
attempting to drown his sorrow. He felt a level of
betrayal he never thought possible, as if his heart
had been ripped from his chest and stuck in his
face so he could watch it slowly stop beating.
His suffering mind clouded with anger that
festered with each passing moment. Though he
had accomplished his mission, he was deprived of
any reward. He was not able to kill Frank to
avenge Maria’s death by his own hand. But then,
what was the point in trying to avenge someone
who lied to you? It ate at him, knowing Frank
had been f—–g Maria; and now, even though he
will die doing it, Frank would get to f–k Zafira
“That f—–g b—–d!” Cole shouted, breaking his
fresh bottle of beer against the living room wall.
Cole looked at his pistol sitting on the coffee
table. It was the intended instrument of his
revenge. Now he wondered if it was his only
escape from this hell. What did he have left to
live for? A life of servitude to a demoness who
keeps secrets from him? Some life that would be.
In the end, all the tears and spilled blood had
been for nothing. The void in his heart had only
grown. He held the revolver and checked the
ammunition. Plenty there, though he only needed
A gateway flashed into existence on the other side
of the coffee table and Zafira stepped through.
For the first time, Cole beheld her scantly clad
body and was not overrun with thoughts of lust.
“Nice outfit,” he drunkenly mumbled.
Zafira ignored his compliment and shed her
dominatrix gear. “It is done.”
“How was he?” Cole snottily asked.
“I made him suffer as you requested. His soul
tasted like burnt bread, if that’s what you want to
“Did you enjoy f—–g him? Like Maria did?” he
Zafira scowled. “For your information, he only
entered my mouth. If there was a simpler, less
degrading way of taking his soul, I would have
Zafira looked at the revolver in Cole’s hand.
“What are you planning to do with…?”
Her eyes glowed incandescent scarlet. She jerked
the pistol from his hand and crushed it in hers.
“Don’t you ever think again of doing that!”
“What does it matter to you, huh?” Cole shouted
back, standing from the couch. “You said it
yourself; you only care about your own f—–g
survival! You’re a demon, what the f–k do you
know about love or compassion?!”
Zafira’s eyes glowed brighter than Cole had ever
seen. Infuriated, she used her magic to jerk Cole
across the coffee table. His head landed between
Zafira’s hands. She glared into his eyes while
pressing hard against his temples.
“If you’re going to kill me, do it!” he taunted.
Cole’s vision blurred as the pain in his mind
escalated. His nose bled; the pain was infinitely
worse than any migraine, even worse than
Anariel’s “reading”. It was as if his brain was
“Do it!” he shouted.
Zafira did not let up. The pressure she applied to
his skull felt like a torturous vise. He rolled his
eyes into the back of his head, accepting his
doom. Cole’s limp body fell to the floor at
To Be Continued