Chapter 7
Jeina stared in awestruck silence. The Red Enchantress’ robe lay discarded at her feet. And rising up from it, like a phoenix from the flame, was the most impossibly beautiful female body Jeina had ever laid eyes on.
Her high-arched bare feet stepped gracefully out of the robe, lifting a pair of flawless, long legs whose sculpted beauty represented a perfection that no artist could hope to achieve with cold stone. Her skin was a flaming red, the color of crackling fire, and every inch of it was visible: she wore no clothing beneath her discarded robe. Jeina’s eyes lingered on her smooth thighs and curvaceous backside, following them up to her waist, which tapered up to a flat, toned stomach. Her copious breasts bounced free: enormous fiery red globes that quivered with every graceful step she took. Perfectly round and unspeakably gorgeous, they called out to Jeina with a siren song of heavenly temptation.
And then she saw the face. If possible, it was even more beautiful than her unearthly body. It was framed in flaming red hair that cascaded to her shoulders, and the look on her face was one of pure sensuality. Jeina was lost in her eyes: eyes that showed infinite passion, and infinite knowledge of how to use her body for pleasure. The eyes shone an impossible golden color, with deep black pupils that seemed as though they could draw her deep into infinity. This was more than beauty. This was what people sold their souls for.
It was several long seconds before Jeina realized that something was not right. Lost in the woman’s hypnotic gaze, it took her even longer to realize it: she had two black curved horns protruding from her forehead. Jeina gasped and took a step back.
“Be careful, Jeina,” said Khylia. There was a look of intense concern on her face that Jeina had never seen before. “She’s dangerous. She’s not human.”
“What is she, then?” asked Jeina.
“Your friend knows that quite well, I believe,” said the Red Enchantress, taking another step forward. Locks of fiery hair fell around her horns.
“She’s a demoness,” said Khylia warily. “The upper echelon of the Demonic Plane, and almost never summoned successfully. Summoning a succubus is one thing, but to bind a full demoness to the Corporeal Plane for days on end? There isn’t a wizard alive powerful enough to accomplish that. And that only leaves one option. She wasn’t summoned at all. She escaped the Demonic Plane and came here by choice.”
“Is that even possible?” asked Jeina.
“More than possible,” said the Enchantress. “I was able to break free of my cage and explore the planes as I pleased, until I found this one. Back on the Demonic Plane, I was one among many. But here, here in this world, I stand as a queen among mortals. With my powers at my disposal, just imagine what I can accomplish!”
“Yes, it was you I felt, wasn’t it?” asked Khylia. “This whole time, ever since I was summoned, I felt something looking over me, overwhelming my link to the Demonic Plane so I couldn’t return home. I should have known: only a more powerful source of demonic energy could have done that. And only someone from the Demonic Plane could have known so much about succubi, and the limits of our powers.”
“And so you’re the one who’s been controlling the Sorority of Sages this whole time,” said Jeina, emboldened. “The new magic that no one else in the city could detect, the sudden discovery of this magic potion: it’s all been you, hasn’t it? But why them? What made you choose these girls?”
“I saw the potential here: the hunger, the will to greatness,” answered the demoness in a husky voice. “We could establish a new order, with myself as ruler of this city and soon of the entire Plane! My power was wasted at home, serving an ossified system that kept us chained to servility. But here it could be different! I came to them and they swore fealty to me in exchange for magic the likes of which they had never seen. Powers that you, too, will soon be subjugated by.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it!” shouted Jeina, grabbing a gold-hilted ornamental sword off the wall from among the many trophies. “I don’t care where it is you’re from; the City Guards are sworn to protect Port Bastion from all harm, and we have upheld that promise for generations! Now face me!” And with a great battle-cry, Jeina charged towards her opponent with her sword at the ready.
“No! Jeina! Don’t!” cried Khylia. But it was too late.
The Enchantress only raised a hand: slowly and deliberately, it was an act of unshakable confidence from someone who had nothing to fear from such inferior creatures. An aura of blazing crimson engulfed her body, wafting from her naked body like heat. In a flash, the sword was knocked from Jeina’s hand. Two ribbons of energy flew forth from her aura: strands of energy that shot forward with the speed of an arrow. They wrapped themselves around Jeina’s and Khylia’s midsections, picking them up by the waists like helpless dolls and holding them dangling in mid-air: floating on their backs with limbs flailing helplessly. Their loosely-fastened robes fell from their bodies.
“And finally, everything is as it was planned,” declared the Enchantress.
“Let us go!” demanded Jeina, struggling.
“Because, ladies,” the Enchantress continued, “there is one final component to this spell: one which you may have forgotten in the heat of the moment. You see, a great output of energy is required in order to bring the cauldron’s contents to evaporation. Generally this is accomplished through a fire, but Witches’ Brew cannot be brought to a full boil or its ingredients become inert. And so, I have been forced to employ an…alternate source of energy.” And saying that, great strands of magical power flew from the Enchantress’ hands and bound around Jeina’s and Khylia’s ankles, leaving their bare feet wriggling helplessly in mid-air.
“Oh no!” cried Khylia. “N—not again!”
“Please! Not the feet!” squealed Jeina.
The Red Enchantress merely laughed self-indulgently. “Ironic, is it not?” she asked. “You came to stop me, but you have fallen directly into my ticklish trap. And now, prepare yourselves: your laughter will be the final ingredient to complete the incantation!” She raised her arms, and new swarms of magical tendrils flew forth: each one a crimson extension of her own arms, with perfectly manicured hands ready to tickle their victims.
Jeina braced herself for the moment of contact, as a bead of cold sweat trickled down her forehead. Her feet thrashed at the ankles, but they could not move out of the line of fire. But she had to stay in control, Jeina told herself: tickle resistance was a state of mind. She had been tickled before. She could resist it. She could—
“WAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!!!” A pointed fingertip pressing into the exact center of her arch destroyed any illusions she had of fighting back. It was joined by a partner, which touched the matching spot on Jeina’s other foot: vibrating ever so slightly with magical power. Jeina threw back her head and howled: the mere touch was absolutely unbearable, and the longer it vibrated on her feet the more sensitive she became. Her ticklish tootsies danced with madness: this was magic of the most devastating kind.
“OH NOOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOOOOOOO!!!” screamed Khylia next to her, exploding into laughter instantly. Her creamy succubus’ feet were even softer than Jeina’s pampered peds, and even more susceptible to the diabolical energies that were tickling them. Hanging in mid-air, her wings flapped helplessly as she struggled for freedom from the devastating touch. Her enormous bare breasts jiggled madly as her chest shook with hysterical laughter from the probing of her soles.
“How does it feel, girls?” asked the Red Enchantress below them. “My magic against your soft feet: do you still think you can fight me? Very soon, the entire city will be as ticklish as you, and their laughter will usher in a new era.”
Both girls could only scream as the energies held them up above the ground. The two of them floated together like the stormclouds outside: showering down tears instead of rain, roaring with laughter instead of thunder. And soon more fingers joined the assault on their feet: walking slowly across the expanse of their soles to probe for new weak spots. Sharp fingernails pressed gently into the flesh of their soles, each one filed perfectly to a rounded point until they were unrivaled weapons of ticklish devastation. They crept over their ticklish prey with delight, seeking out new regions of tender flesh that would drive the girls even deeper into hysteria.
“I—I CAN’T TAKE IT!!! WAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Jeina laughed, as a fingernail slipped across the ball of her foot and pressed into a soft spot. The tickling was slow, methodical, and absolutely unbearable. She felt like she was being broken for sport, helpless in the hands of a tickling master. The form of the Enchantress was only a red blur through her tears, but Jeina could still hear her mocking voice, giggling as her magic fingers drove her victims to madness.
“PLEASE NOT THE FEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEETTT!!!” begged Khylia, her own ivory-white tootsies turning pink from the tickling. Her long pale toes, adorned with black nail polish, twisted and squirmed in ten different directions every time one of her soft spots was touched. Her feet had already faced more tickling today than they had ever known before, but this was torture on a different level. The force of magic behind every touch, the centuries of expertise behind every flick of the fingers: even with her magic she would have been defenseless in the face of such arcane power. Her only option was laughter.
“Oh my, have your poor feet had enough?” asked the Enchantress. “Well then, allow me to give you something else to think about!”
“PLEASE!!! AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! NO!!!” Jeina cried. But it was too late. New ethereal projections came forth from the demoness’ hands, flying past their tickle-flushed soles to attack a new target: the girls’ soft, unguarded underarms.
“YEEEEEAAAAAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAAAAA!!!!!” Jeina’s shrieks of laughter reached a new peak as ten sharp, merciless fingernails sank directly into the soft hollows of her underarms, sensuously wriggling across the soft skin that she was helpless to cover. The more she fought, the more firmly the magic held her in place: arms held taut above her head, with mischievous fingers free to wreak havoc in these sensitive tickle-spots. Burrowing and squeezing into the tender flesh, they played in concert with the fingers tickling her feet: moving at the same madness-inducing rhythm over her hopelessly ticklish body.
“NOT IN THEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEEERRREEE!!!!!” howled Khylia next to her. Her milky, perfectly smooth underarms were every bit as ticklish as Jeina’s, and now with magical fingers tracing their curvature, she was losing her mind. The perfumed musk of her sweat filled the air as fingers swept under her arms, causing her massive breasts to bounce and heave while her disheveled hair flew in all directions. Hands began to stroke and caress her all over, exploring her body and the many delights it held: with every ticklish touch, Khylia felt herself getting more and more aroused despite herself.
“Yes, that’s it!” exclaimed the Enchantress with delight. “The more you struggle, the harder you laugh, the more you feed the fires of the cauldron and bring the spell closer to completion!” As she spoke, the cauldron began to bubble more quickly, feeding off their ticklish torment and releasing its golden vapors to the skies.
But as unbearable as Jeina’s ordeal was, it was somehow Khylia who was getting the worst of it. It was as though an aura was surrounding her, replacing her usual carefully constructed sensuality with something far more bestial; more basic; infinitely more desirable. Her thrashing, sweat-glistening naked body became more and more impossible to ignore, until even the Enchantress seemed swayed by her charms. More hands swarmed to her pale, nude body: focusing on tickling it with an erotic hunger.
“WAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!!! AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!!!” Every inch of Khylia’s body was under a tickling assault now of unrivaled intensity. Invisible fingers hooked around her big toes, holding them back while dozens of fingers played a ticklish sonata on her soft, plush soles. Tendrils of energy with impossible strength clamped around her ankles, holding her feet in place to face all the passion and fury that a demoness’ tickling magic could summon. Fingers drilled into her underarms and ran up and down her sides without mercy, while sharp fingernails scribbled across her tummy and circled her belly button. But equally unbearable were the softer touches: smooth, silken fingers that stroked ever so gently across her heaving breasts, circling the outsides with a careful lover’s kiss. The sensuous tickles brought forth sweet wetness between her legs, and in her state of helpless hysteria she found her arousal multiplied even further.
Beside her, Jeina was still consumed with hysterical laughter, but for the first time she could see through the tears. The hands still tickled her without mercy, but she could feel their energies being siphoned towards Khylia. Without knowing how, Jeina knew that Khylia was somehow doing this on purpose. The aura of sensuality around the succubus was growing: far more than magic, it was something interwoven into her very essence as a being of pleasure. She was using her power to spare Jeina the worst of it: taking the full fury of the tickling upon herself. She was trusting Jeina to be strong and seize an opportunity.
The hands crept up Khylia’s soft thighs, almost not daring to venture there, but too intoxicated with her sweet laughter to stop. They caressed thighs so soft and inviting that even Jeina hungered to stroke and tickle them herself. Slowly they moved up the ticklish flesh, savoring every inch as they pressed into her skin with trembling eagerness. Khylia’s laughter reached greater peaks with every touch, screaming and moaning as her lips parted in anticipation of the touch that she longed for. The hands moved inward, drawing painfully closer, until finally…
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! OH YESSS!!! YEEESSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!”
One single, feathery touch on her dripping sex was all the succubus required to reach the pinnacle of a shattering orgasm. Her body went taut in mid-air, and her angelic face was sculpted in an expression of pure sexual ecstasy. Again and again she came; time seemed to stand still around her as her cries drowned out all other noise. Her lustrous, fluttering hair seemed frozen in a cascade as she threw back her head and gave herself entirely to the rapture of the moment. It even seemed as though the world around her was reshaped by the intensity of her pleasure: her aura was now a tangible thing, and Jeina swore she could see it like a burning halo. With each burst of pleasure that racked her body, Khylia seemed to send out shockwaves that resonated throughout the room: Jeina could feel them passing through her own body, imbuing it with the ecstasy of Khylia’s climax. And even the Enchantress was not immune. Jeina could feel the tendrils that held her begin to weaken, as though their muscles were going weak with pleasure. The Enchantress seemed stunned by the intensity of it: not even she, with all her power, was prepared to share the feeling of Khylia being tickled to orgasm. With every louder cry from the succubus, the bonds holding Jeina became weaker, until finally Khylia gave her last cry, and the mind-shattering climax was complete.
There was a moment of stillness. And then, Jeina felt the final piece of strength that held her fading away. The tendril that gripped her disappeared, and she fell to the ground.
Jeina knew she had only a moment to act. This was the opportunity she had been given: she might not get another. She ran to the wall and wrenched an engraved warhammer from its holdings, gripping it with both hands. She had to make this work.
The Red Enchantress looked at her through the afterglow of her shared orgasm, already recovering her faculties. But she was as confident as ever. She merely grinned at this pathetic mortal, about to challenge her with a weapon that could not conceivably harm her. Come at me, she mockingly invited with her gaze. Rush headlong into your own ticklish defeat.
Except Jeina had no intention of using the warhammer against the Enchantress. Winding herself up, she hoisted the hammer above her head, and with every remaining ounce of strength she hurled it towards the enormous cauldron.
“NOOOOOOO!!!” The Enchantress’ eyes went wide with panicked horror as she saw the weapon hurtling towards the cauldron. She dropped Khylia to the ground and sent every one of her magical tendrils racing after the hammer, trying desperately to seize it out of the air before it hit. But she was half a second too late. Her hands grasped at empty air as the hammer struck the side of the cauldron with all of Jeina’s remaining strength. The tower was filled with a deafening clang as the weapon rebounded off the smooth black surface, and for a single second, time seemed to stand still.
And then, a crack appeared.
The crack spread up the cauldron’s side, growing larger, branching out into two paths, and then four: spreading out like creeping vines over the surface of the cauldron. Tiny ceramic chips fell from the cracks, as the entire cauldron began to groan under the weight of the liquid inside. Droplets of shimmering, gold-flecked potion began to press out, trickling down the outsides of the cauldron until they became streams. The cracks grew larger and larger, spreading over more of the surface, until finally the massive receptacle could hold out no longer. The cauldron gave a final quiver, and then the entire forty-foot vessel exploded in a maelstrom of flying shards and golden liquid!
The Enchantress screamed in anguish and threw up her arms in front of her: she was too close to run. An enormous tidal wave of magic potion surged towards her, its fury unleashed upon its creator. Before she had time to react, it was upon her: an enormous flood that submerged her body in an instant. She was lost in the deluge, and her body did not even break the tidal wave. It was surging towards Jeina now, and in a fraction of a second it would be upon her, crashing over her head and drowning her beneath the surface…
“Hold on!” cried a voice above her. And suddenly, Jeina felt herself being pulled up in the air, high above the floor. She looked down in amazement: the tidal wave surged underneath her, crashing against the tower wall like the ocean breaking against a cliff. She was flying.
And then she looked up. Above her was Khylia, flying through the air, holding on to Jeina’s wrist as her bat-wings beat furiously, keeping both of them aloft.
“You…you can fly?!” asked Jeina.
“What did you think the wings were for?” asked Khylia with an arched eyebrow. “Decoration?”
In spite of their situation, Jeina found herself smiling. “It’s been a long day.”
Below them, the floodwaters were beginning to subside. As quickly as they had come, they were now flowing out of the room, cascading down the tower stairs and into a massive gold-flecked waterfall that fell down into the darkness. In seconds, the floor was visible again, and the only signs that the flood had ever been there was a shimmering dampness on the stone floor.
The two of them slowly descended to the floor, surveying the aftermath of the explosion. With the cauldron shattered, the room looked much emptier than before. A vast empty space stretched out before them, littered with the broken fragments of the cauldron like the ruins after a storm. All the herbs that had covered the floor had been washed away. But they were not the only things that had survived the flood. For lying on the ground, dripping wet and gasping for breath, was the glistening naked body of the Red Enchantress.
She lay on her back, her heavy breathing the only sound in the eerie stillness. A large piece of the cauldron had pinned her arms above her head, leaving her trapped in place, but in her current state of exhaustion she was completely motionless. The two of them looked at her: alone and vulnerable, so different from her old self of only moments before. The terrifying aura that had surrounded her was gone; now she was only a woman. For she had singlehandedly absorbed enough Witches’ Brew to affect an entire city; not even her demonic powers could protect her from that. Golden droplets of liquid covered her fiery red skin and her red hair was matted with gold, but even the sweat that rolled off her body was golden in color. The potion had been infused into her very essence. And that meant only one thing.
“Are you thinking what I am?” asked Jeina. A mercenary grin crept across her face.
Khylia smiled back. “Exactly.”
There was no need to say anything further. Both of them leapt upon the naked body of the Enchantress, pinning her legs beneath them. Jeina faced her feet, with Khylia to her back facing the demoness’ upper body.
“No! W—what are you doing?” gasped the Enchantress, too weakened to fight back.
“Oh, I think you already know,” said Jeina. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this!” And with the pure, unbridled satisfaction of justice, Jeina sank her fingernails into the Enchantress’ soft soles.
“YEEEAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!!! WOOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOOO!!!!!” Few mortals had ever been privileged enough to hear the laughter of a demoness before, but now it filled the room with wild abandon as Jeina’s fingernails skittered across the bottoms of her tender feet. Her face, as beautiful as ever, was contorted in hysterical laughter with tears flowing down her cheeks, and her hair was thrown in every direction like the tongues of a blazing fire. Her beauty, once so cold and self-possessed, now burned out of control like an inferno.
And Jeina was enjoying every ticklish scream. The soles before her were unimaginably soft: pale red in color and at a level of ticklishness that only being submerged in an ocean of Witches’ Brew could have created. She ran her fingernails up and down the arches: sometimes quickly, other times skittering in slow, random patterns that were impossible to predict. She gently pinched the skin beneath the balls of her feet, and attacked with quick, concentrated scribbling on her insteps. The Enchantress’ long, nimble toes danced in every direction, jolting and twisting in seemingly impossible movements. There was not an inch of her tall, smooth soles that was not unbearably, mind-shatteringly ticklish.
And behind her, Khylia had a score to settle of her own. Her long, lithe fingers sensuously tickled and fondled the demoness’ enormous fiery-red breasts: cupping them, stroking them, playing with them in a thousand ticklish ways that only a succubus could know. She teased the erect nipples, pressing them gently between her fingers, driving her wild with mounting desire until her hands would slide down the sides of her copious breasts and into the exposed underarms, which Khylia tickled with delight.
“Koochie koochie koo,” taunted Khylia, with her silken fingertips flicking with aching gentleness across the Enchantress’ soft, helpless underarms. “See how you like being tickled, hmm?”
Khylia smiled and fluttered her fingertips in the ticklish hollows, as she leaned down and slowly licked around the outsides of her quivering breasts. The soft, teasing touch was doubly torturous: the demoness screamed with laughter and mounting desire as Khylia made a plaything of her body. The Enchantress fought desperately to lower her arms, but the unbearably soft skin remained exposed and helpless against the succubus’ unrelenting tickling. Khylia’s hot breath cascaded over the demoness’ chest as her tongue slowly rounded the heaving breasts, stopping to gently lap up the most sensitive spots of all with the flickering tip of her tongue.
Beneath them, the Red Enchantress screamed with unbridled laughter. Once a being of cold malice, she now burned as brightly as the sun. Fire and passion flowed forth from her, growing more intense as her laughter reached a fever pitch. She tried to cry out, “Stop!”, but words would not come. Even the tears that streamed from her wild eyes were flecked with gold: a sign of how unbearably ticklish she had become. She fought and thrashed beneath their teasing touch, but nothing could protect her naked body from the unyielding tickling.
“Mmm, yes!” Jeina declared, moving closer to the wriggling feet to smell their perfumed musk. She was bathed in the glow of victory, of righteous retribution; but that was not all she felt. A burning desire was welling up inside her, fueled by her chance to tickle such a stunning, exquisite body. And from the feel of it, she was not alone.
Jeina could feel the arousal coming off the demoness’ body like heat from a furnace, and it affected her as well. While her fingers continued to ravage the ticklish soles in front of them, Jeina bent down and gently planted a kiss on the tops of the wriggling feet. And then another, and another, until her lips were planted on the soft skin and her tongue-play wove across the tops of her feet, tickling these tender tootsies from above while her fingernails tortured them from below. She slid her tongue down into the crevasses between the splaying toes, wrapping snake-like around them and savoring the intoxicating flavor.
Behind her, Khylia ravished the flawless body beneath her, all her skill at giving pleasure mixing with her skill at manipulating a ticklish body. Her fingers played with the demoness’ ticklish underarms like a virtuoso, every touch accompanied by a lick along her sensitive, ticklish breasts. Khylia pressed herself against the body she was devouring, her own bare breasts rubbing against the demoness’ silken skin and causing her nipples to become hard. Every touch, every ounce of shared body heat, every taste of the sweet skin on her tongue was bliss. She wanted more, drinking in the laughter and moans of pleasure that her tickling produced. She could feel it building up, and so could the Enchantress: a tsunami of sexual pleasure, ready to burst through the floodgates, and nothing could stop it.
The Enchantress screamed louder, and every muscle in her body went rigid. It was coming…
And the Enchantress could hold back no longer. Every nerve in her body was ablaze with excitement and lust. For a fraction of a second, there was silence; and then her cries pierced the heights of ecstasy as she reached climax with a power she had never known before. In an instant of superhuman strength, her body lifted up from the ground, until it was floating in midair from the sheer force of her will. The heat from her body seemed to fill the entire tower, blanking out her mind until only animal passion remained. Her deafening screams became even louder, and a blinding red light poured forth from her taut, ecstatic body. Pure power, untempered demonic energy rushed out of her; the iron grip holding it back was loosened at last. The heat and the light became so powerful that they burned like fire, but Jeina and Khylia felt nothing but the rapture of the moment. And then, the light engulfed everything.
And then, it was gone. Jeina and Khylia lay on the floor, alone in the tower. It was over.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. They lay in silence as their minds grasped what they had just experienced.
“Where did she go?” asked Jeina at last, still staring at the spot on the floor that had held the demoness’ body seconds before.
“All her power is gone,” replied Khylia, quietly. “She experienced something more powerful than all her magic could handle.”
“And what happened to her?” asked Jeina.
“No one summoned her here,” explained Khylia. “The magic binding her to this Plane was her own. And with her demonic powers gone, there was nothing left to anchor her in your world. She returned home, to the Demonic Plane.” Suddenly Khylia gasped as she felt a chill through her body. She took a step backwards. “I can feel it too,” she said. “The magic binding me here is gone. I’m being called back home.”
Jeina looked up at her. “Will…will I ever see you again?” she asked softly.
Khylia smiled with tenderness in her eyes. “I come here more often than you might know,” she said with a wistful smile. “My life takes me to all sorts of places on this Plane. I’d say to keep your eyes open. I have a feeling our paths may cross again someday.”
Jeina smiled back at her. “Thanks. I’ll do that.”
There was a peal of thunder from above. The rain was coming.
A single pure, untainted raindrop fell from above onto the stone floor. The two of them placed their arms around each other, gazing into each other’s eyes without a word. They drew closer into a tender embrace, their two naked bodies pressed against each other softly. Standing together in the gentle rainfall, their lips slowly met for a long, lingering kiss farewell.
Epilogue
It is said that the greatest mark of a heroic deed is that it makes the world a better place. And as the sun rose over Port Bastion the next morning, there was a widespread feeling among all its citizens that they were waking up to a new day and a better life.
Life was good once again for the Sorority of City Guards. With the looming threat of the Sages’ expanding power now gone, they could go back to doing the thing they did best: preventing crimes of a more physical nature. And no one was gladder to see things return to normal than Jeina. After a day dealing with the supernatural, the only thing she wanted was a night out drinking with her sorority sisters. She regaled them all with tales of her adventure behind enemy lines, all the while accepting round after round of drinks bought for her by an appreciative audience. With duty served and mission accomplished, she and all of her sisters could look forward to a new day of law enforcement; but before that would come a night of drinking, song, and celebration lasting until the dawn. It was a hero’s welcome that Jeina richly deserved.
Life was good, too, for the Sorority of Thieves. With the balance of power restored, they could return to doing what they did best: catering to the needs of the city’s dark underbelly. Life went on; people would always need goods stolen and other extralegal services rendered. Now the Sorority of Thieves could go back to filling that market niche without fear of magical reprisal. Once works of art began disappearing from the wealthy manors, and the city’s fences and pawnbrokers found themselves with work once again, people knew things were returning to normal.
Life was even better for the Sorority of Sages. After their brief flirtation with real power, too many of the girls discovered that they had no taste for conquest. The enjoyment of the old days: late-night roleplaying campaigns, running gaming sessions, and the academic pleasures of studying ancient magic texts; all that had slowly slipped away from them and had been replaced with something that felt too much like work. It took a certain temperament to truly enjoy power for its own sake, and most of the girls in the Sages’ House did not have it. They had been enticed by promises of magical mastery, but the reality of it had been somewhat frightening and not much fun at all. Even though most of them would never admit it, they were glad that things were back to the way they used to be.
Meanwhile, in the Demonic Realm, Khylia leaned against the bar in The Dark Spiral, watching the dance floor contemplatively as she sipped an Azure Rift out of a long-stemmed martini glass.
“Well, you’re certainly looking pleased with yourself,” said a voice behind her.
Khylia turned around. It was Sha’aest, one of her fellow succubi, apparently just arriving with the late evening crowd and ordering a drink.
Khylia chuckled. “Yes, I suppose you could say that.”
Sha’aest smirked and arched her eyebrow. “And this wouldn’t have anything to do with all the rumors flying around about your most recent job, and all the chaos it caused in Demonic Affairs?”
“Oh, Demonic Affairs is in an uproar, all right,” said Khylia. “Management is turning the whole department upside-down to figure out how a full demoness managed to get to the Corporeal Plane without anyone noticing. There were no records, no authorizations, nothing on file at all. I hear management is calling for a full audit of all Summoning Queue paperwork, and the whole department is suspended until it’s finished.”
Sha’aest looked impressed. “And what’s going to happen to the succubi in the meantime?” she asked.
“With no Summoning Queue, we’re all on official vacation,” said Khylia. “At least until they get this whole mess sorted out.”
“Any idea how long that could take?” Sha’aest asked.
Khylia smirked and shrugged her shoulders. “Could be weeks. The way the whole bureaucracy is run, maybe even longer.” She looked back over at the dance floor, which was beginning to fill up. “So, are you staying out this evening?”
Sha’aest giggled. “Why not?” she asked. “It sounds like I don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow morning.”
Khylia leaned back, and sighed with contentment as she took another sip of her drink.
Life was good.
Jeina stared in awestruck silence. The Red Enchantress’ robe lay discarded at her feet. And rising up from it, like a phoenix from the flame, was the most impossibly beautiful female body Jeina had ever laid eyes on.
Her high-arched bare feet stepped gracefully out of the robe, lifting a pair of flawless, long legs whose sculpted beauty represented a perfection that no artist could hope to achieve with cold stone. Her skin was a flaming red, the color of crackling fire, and every inch of it was visible: she wore no clothing beneath her discarded robe. Jeina’s eyes lingered on her smooth thighs and curvaceous backside, following them up to her waist, which tapered up to a flat, toned stomach. Her copious breasts bounced free: enormous fiery red globes that quivered with every graceful step she took. Perfectly round and unspeakably gorgeous, they called out to Jeina with a siren song of heavenly temptation.
And then she saw the face. If possible, it was even more beautiful than her unearthly body. It was framed in flaming red hair that cascaded to her shoulders, and the look on her face was one of pure sensuality. Jeina was lost in her eyes: eyes that showed infinite passion, and infinite knowledge of how to use her body for pleasure. The eyes shone an impossible golden color, with deep black pupils that seemed as though they could draw her deep into infinity. This was more than beauty. This was what people sold their souls for.
It was several long seconds before Jeina realized that something was not right. Lost in the woman’s hypnotic gaze, it took her even longer to realize it: she had two black curved horns protruding from her forehead. Jeina gasped and took a step back.
“Be careful, Jeina,” said Khylia. There was a look of intense concern on her face that Jeina had never seen before. “She’s dangerous. She’s not human.”
“What is she, then?” asked Jeina.
“Your friend knows that quite well, I believe,” said the Red Enchantress, taking another step forward. Locks of fiery hair fell around her horns.
“She’s a demoness,” said Khylia warily. “The upper echelon of the Demonic Plane, and almost never summoned successfully. Summoning a succubus is one thing, but to bind a full demoness to the Corporeal Plane for days on end? There isn’t a wizard alive powerful enough to accomplish that. And that only leaves one option. She wasn’t summoned at all. She escaped the Demonic Plane and came here by choice.”
“Is that even possible?” asked Jeina.
“More than possible,” said the Enchantress. “I was able to break free of my cage and explore the planes as I pleased, until I found this one. Back on the Demonic Plane, I was one among many. But here, here in this world, I stand as a queen among mortals. With my powers at my disposal, just imagine what I can accomplish!”
“Yes, it was you I felt, wasn’t it?” asked Khylia. “This whole time, ever since I was summoned, I felt something looking over me, overwhelming my link to the Demonic Plane so I couldn’t return home. I should have known: only a more powerful source of demonic energy could have done that. And only someone from the Demonic Plane could have known so much about succubi, and the limits of our powers.”
“And so you’re the one who’s been controlling the Sorority of Sages this whole time,” said Jeina, emboldened. “The new magic that no one else in the city could detect, the sudden discovery of this magic potion: it’s all been you, hasn’t it? But why them? What made you choose these girls?”
“I saw the potential here: the hunger, the will to greatness,” answered the demoness in a husky voice. “We could establish a new order, with myself as ruler of this city and soon of the entire Plane! My power was wasted at home, serving an ossified system that kept us chained to servility. But here it could be different! I came to them and they swore fealty to me in exchange for magic the likes of which they had never seen. Powers that you, too, will soon be subjugated by.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it!” shouted Jeina, grabbing a gold-hilted ornamental sword off the wall from among the many trophies. “I don’t care where it is you’re from; the City Guards are sworn to protect Port Bastion from all harm, and we have upheld that promise for generations! Now face me!” And with a great battle-cry, Jeina charged towards her opponent with her sword at the ready.
“No! Jeina! Don’t!” cried Khylia. But it was too late.
The Enchantress only raised a hand: slowly and deliberately, it was an act of unshakable confidence from someone who had nothing to fear from such inferior creatures. An aura of blazing crimson engulfed her body, wafting from her naked body like heat. In a flash, the sword was knocked from Jeina’s hand. Two ribbons of energy flew forth from her aura: strands of energy that shot forward with the speed of an arrow. They wrapped themselves around Jeina’s and Khylia’s midsections, picking them up by the waists like helpless dolls and holding them dangling in mid-air: floating on their backs with limbs flailing helplessly. Their loosely-fastened robes fell from their bodies.
“And finally, everything is as it was planned,” declared the Enchantress.
“Let us go!” demanded Jeina, struggling.
“Because, ladies,” the Enchantress continued, “there is one final component to this spell: one which you may have forgotten in the heat of the moment. You see, a great output of energy is required in order to bring the cauldron’s contents to evaporation. Generally this is accomplished through a fire, but Witches’ Brew cannot be brought to a full boil or its ingredients become inert. And so, I have been forced to employ an…alternate source of energy.” And saying that, great strands of magical power flew from the Enchantress’ hands and bound around Jeina’s and Khylia’s ankles, leaving their bare feet wriggling helplessly in mid-air.
“Oh no!” cried Khylia. “N—not again!”
“Please! Not the feet!” squealed Jeina.
The Red Enchantress merely laughed self-indulgently. “Ironic, is it not?” she asked. “You came to stop me, but you have fallen directly into my ticklish trap. And now, prepare yourselves: your laughter will be the final ingredient to complete the incantation!” She raised her arms, and new swarms of magical tendrils flew forth: each one a crimson extension of her own arms, with perfectly manicured hands ready to tickle their victims.
Jeina braced herself for the moment of contact, as a bead of cold sweat trickled down her forehead. Her feet thrashed at the ankles, but they could not move out of the line of fire. But she had to stay in control, Jeina told herself: tickle resistance was a state of mind. She had been tickled before. She could resist it. She could—
“WAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!!!” A pointed fingertip pressing into the exact center of her arch destroyed any illusions she had of fighting back. It was joined by a partner, which touched the matching spot on Jeina’s other foot: vibrating ever so slightly with magical power. Jeina threw back her head and howled: the mere touch was absolutely unbearable, and the longer it vibrated on her feet the more sensitive she became. Her ticklish tootsies danced with madness: this was magic of the most devastating kind.
“OH NOOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOOOOOOO!!!” screamed Khylia next to her, exploding into laughter instantly. Her creamy succubus’ feet were even softer than Jeina’s pampered peds, and even more susceptible to the diabolical energies that were tickling them. Hanging in mid-air, her wings flapped helplessly as she struggled for freedom from the devastating touch. Her enormous bare breasts jiggled madly as her chest shook with hysterical laughter from the probing of her soles.
“How does it feel, girls?” asked the Red Enchantress below them. “My magic against your soft feet: do you still think you can fight me? Very soon, the entire city will be as ticklish as you, and their laughter will usher in a new era.”
Both girls could only scream as the energies held them up above the ground. The two of them floated together like the stormclouds outside: showering down tears instead of rain, roaring with laughter instead of thunder. And soon more fingers joined the assault on their feet: walking slowly across the expanse of their soles to probe for new weak spots. Sharp fingernails pressed gently into the flesh of their soles, each one filed perfectly to a rounded point until they were unrivaled weapons of ticklish devastation. They crept over their ticklish prey with delight, seeking out new regions of tender flesh that would drive the girls even deeper into hysteria.
“I—I CAN’T TAKE IT!!! WAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Jeina laughed, as a fingernail slipped across the ball of her foot and pressed into a soft spot. The tickling was slow, methodical, and absolutely unbearable. She felt like she was being broken for sport, helpless in the hands of a tickling master. The form of the Enchantress was only a red blur through her tears, but Jeina could still hear her mocking voice, giggling as her magic fingers drove her victims to madness.
“PLEASE NOT THE FEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEETTT!!!” begged Khylia, her own ivory-white tootsies turning pink from the tickling. Her long pale toes, adorned with black nail polish, twisted and squirmed in ten different directions every time one of her soft spots was touched. Her feet had already faced more tickling today than they had ever known before, but this was torture on a different level. The force of magic behind every touch, the centuries of expertise behind every flick of the fingers: even with her magic she would have been defenseless in the face of such arcane power. Her only option was laughter.
“Oh my, have your poor feet had enough?” asked the Enchantress. “Well then, allow me to give you something else to think about!”
“PLEASE!!! AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! NO!!!” Jeina cried. But it was too late. New ethereal projections came forth from the demoness’ hands, flying past their tickle-flushed soles to attack a new target: the girls’ soft, unguarded underarms.
“YEEEEEAAAAAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAAAAA!!!!!” Jeina’s shrieks of laughter reached a new peak as ten sharp, merciless fingernails sank directly into the soft hollows of her underarms, sensuously wriggling across the soft skin that she was helpless to cover. The more she fought, the more firmly the magic held her in place: arms held taut above her head, with mischievous fingers free to wreak havoc in these sensitive tickle-spots. Burrowing and squeezing into the tender flesh, they played in concert with the fingers tickling her feet: moving at the same madness-inducing rhythm over her hopelessly ticklish body.
“NOT IN THEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEEERRREEE!!!!!” howled Khylia next to her. Her milky, perfectly smooth underarms were every bit as ticklish as Jeina’s, and now with magical fingers tracing their curvature, she was losing her mind. The perfumed musk of her sweat filled the air as fingers swept under her arms, causing her massive breasts to bounce and heave while her disheveled hair flew in all directions. Hands began to stroke and caress her all over, exploring her body and the many delights it held: with every ticklish touch, Khylia felt herself getting more and more aroused despite herself.
“Yes, that’s it!” exclaimed the Enchantress with delight. “The more you struggle, the harder you laugh, the more you feed the fires of the cauldron and bring the spell closer to completion!” As she spoke, the cauldron began to bubble more quickly, feeding off their ticklish torment and releasing its golden vapors to the skies.
But as unbearable as Jeina’s ordeal was, it was somehow Khylia who was getting the worst of it. It was as though an aura was surrounding her, replacing her usual carefully constructed sensuality with something far more bestial; more basic; infinitely more desirable. Her thrashing, sweat-glistening naked body became more and more impossible to ignore, until even the Enchantress seemed swayed by her charms. More hands swarmed to her pale, nude body: focusing on tickling it with an erotic hunger.
“WAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!!! AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!!!” Every inch of Khylia’s body was under a tickling assault now of unrivaled intensity. Invisible fingers hooked around her big toes, holding them back while dozens of fingers played a ticklish sonata on her soft, plush soles. Tendrils of energy with impossible strength clamped around her ankles, holding her feet in place to face all the passion and fury that a demoness’ tickling magic could summon. Fingers drilled into her underarms and ran up and down her sides without mercy, while sharp fingernails scribbled across her tummy and circled her belly button. But equally unbearable were the softer touches: smooth, silken fingers that stroked ever so gently across her heaving breasts, circling the outsides with a careful lover’s kiss. The sensuous tickles brought forth sweet wetness between her legs, and in her state of helpless hysteria she found her arousal multiplied even further.
Beside her, Jeina was still consumed with hysterical laughter, but for the first time she could see through the tears. The hands still tickled her without mercy, but she could feel their energies being siphoned towards Khylia. Without knowing how, Jeina knew that Khylia was somehow doing this on purpose. The aura of sensuality around the succubus was growing: far more than magic, it was something interwoven into her very essence as a being of pleasure. She was using her power to spare Jeina the worst of it: taking the full fury of the tickling upon herself. She was trusting Jeina to be strong and seize an opportunity.
The hands crept up Khylia’s soft thighs, almost not daring to venture there, but too intoxicated with her sweet laughter to stop. They caressed thighs so soft and inviting that even Jeina hungered to stroke and tickle them herself. Slowly they moved up the ticklish flesh, savoring every inch as they pressed into her skin with trembling eagerness. Khylia’s laughter reached greater peaks with every touch, screaming and moaning as her lips parted in anticipation of the touch that she longed for. The hands moved inward, drawing painfully closer, until finally…
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! OH YESSS!!! YEEESSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!”
One single, feathery touch on her dripping sex was all the succubus required to reach the pinnacle of a shattering orgasm. Her body went taut in mid-air, and her angelic face was sculpted in an expression of pure sexual ecstasy. Again and again she came; time seemed to stand still around her as her cries drowned out all other noise. Her lustrous, fluttering hair seemed frozen in a cascade as she threw back her head and gave herself entirely to the rapture of the moment. It even seemed as though the world around her was reshaped by the intensity of her pleasure: her aura was now a tangible thing, and Jeina swore she could see it like a burning halo. With each burst of pleasure that racked her body, Khylia seemed to send out shockwaves that resonated throughout the room: Jeina could feel them passing through her own body, imbuing it with the ecstasy of Khylia’s climax. And even the Enchantress was not immune. Jeina could feel the tendrils that held her begin to weaken, as though their muscles were going weak with pleasure. The Enchantress seemed stunned by the intensity of it: not even she, with all her power, was prepared to share the feeling of Khylia being tickled to orgasm. With every louder cry from the succubus, the bonds holding Jeina became weaker, until finally Khylia gave her last cry, and the mind-shattering climax was complete.
There was a moment of stillness. And then, Jeina felt the final piece of strength that held her fading away. The tendril that gripped her disappeared, and she fell to the ground.
Jeina knew she had only a moment to act. This was the opportunity she had been given: she might not get another. She ran to the wall and wrenched an engraved warhammer from its holdings, gripping it with both hands. She had to make this work.
The Red Enchantress looked at her through the afterglow of her shared orgasm, already recovering her faculties. But she was as confident as ever. She merely grinned at this pathetic mortal, about to challenge her with a weapon that could not conceivably harm her. Come at me, she mockingly invited with her gaze. Rush headlong into your own ticklish defeat.
Except Jeina had no intention of using the warhammer against the Enchantress. Winding herself up, she hoisted the hammer above her head, and with every remaining ounce of strength she hurled it towards the enormous cauldron.
“NOOOOOOO!!!” The Enchantress’ eyes went wide with panicked horror as she saw the weapon hurtling towards the cauldron. She dropped Khylia to the ground and sent every one of her magical tendrils racing after the hammer, trying desperately to seize it out of the air before it hit. But she was half a second too late. Her hands grasped at empty air as the hammer struck the side of the cauldron with all of Jeina’s remaining strength. The tower was filled with a deafening clang as the weapon rebounded off the smooth black surface, and for a single second, time seemed to stand still.
And then, a crack appeared.
The crack spread up the cauldron’s side, growing larger, branching out into two paths, and then four: spreading out like creeping vines over the surface of the cauldron. Tiny ceramic chips fell from the cracks, as the entire cauldron began to groan under the weight of the liquid inside. Droplets of shimmering, gold-flecked potion began to press out, trickling down the outsides of the cauldron until they became streams. The cracks grew larger and larger, spreading over more of the surface, until finally the massive receptacle could hold out no longer. The cauldron gave a final quiver, and then the entire forty-foot vessel exploded in a maelstrom of flying shards and golden liquid!
The Enchantress screamed in anguish and threw up her arms in front of her: she was too close to run. An enormous tidal wave of magic potion surged towards her, its fury unleashed upon its creator. Before she had time to react, it was upon her: an enormous flood that submerged her body in an instant. She was lost in the deluge, and her body did not even break the tidal wave. It was surging towards Jeina now, and in a fraction of a second it would be upon her, crashing over her head and drowning her beneath the surface…
“Hold on!” cried a voice above her. And suddenly, Jeina felt herself being pulled up in the air, high above the floor. She looked down in amazement: the tidal wave surged underneath her, crashing against the tower wall like the ocean breaking against a cliff. She was flying.
And then she looked up. Above her was Khylia, flying through the air, holding on to Jeina’s wrist as her bat-wings beat furiously, keeping both of them aloft.
“You…you can fly?!” asked Jeina.
“What did you think the wings were for?” asked Khylia with an arched eyebrow. “Decoration?”
In spite of their situation, Jeina found herself smiling. “It’s been a long day.”
Below them, the floodwaters were beginning to subside. As quickly as they had come, they were now flowing out of the room, cascading down the tower stairs and into a massive gold-flecked waterfall that fell down into the darkness. In seconds, the floor was visible again, and the only signs that the flood had ever been there was a shimmering dampness on the stone floor.
The two of them slowly descended to the floor, surveying the aftermath of the explosion. With the cauldron shattered, the room looked much emptier than before. A vast empty space stretched out before them, littered with the broken fragments of the cauldron like the ruins after a storm. All the herbs that had covered the floor had been washed away. But they were not the only things that had survived the flood. For lying on the ground, dripping wet and gasping for breath, was the glistening naked body of the Red Enchantress.
She lay on her back, her heavy breathing the only sound in the eerie stillness. A large piece of the cauldron had pinned her arms above her head, leaving her trapped in place, but in her current state of exhaustion she was completely motionless. The two of them looked at her: alone and vulnerable, so different from her old self of only moments before. The terrifying aura that had surrounded her was gone; now she was only a woman. For she had singlehandedly absorbed enough Witches’ Brew to affect an entire city; not even her demonic powers could protect her from that. Golden droplets of liquid covered her fiery red skin and her red hair was matted with gold, but even the sweat that rolled off her body was golden in color. The potion had been infused into her very essence. And that meant only one thing.
“Are you thinking what I am?” asked Jeina. A mercenary grin crept across her face.
Khylia smiled back. “Exactly.”
There was no need to say anything further. Both of them leapt upon the naked body of the Enchantress, pinning her legs beneath them. Jeina faced her feet, with Khylia to her back facing the demoness’ upper body.
“No! W—what are you doing?” gasped the Enchantress, too weakened to fight back.
“Oh, I think you already know,” said Jeina. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this!” And with the pure, unbridled satisfaction of justice, Jeina sank her fingernails into the Enchantress’ soft soles.
“YEEEAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!!! WOOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOOO!!!!!” Few mortals had ever been privileged enough to hear the laughter of a demoness before, but now it filled the room with wild abandon as Jeina’s fingernails skittered across the bottoms of her tender feet. Her face, as beautiful as ever, was contorted in hysterical laughter with tears flowing down her cheeks, and her hair was thrown in every direction like the tongues of a blazing fire. Her beauty, once so cold and self-possessed, now burned out of control like an inferno.
And Jeina was enjoying every ticklish scream. The soles before her were unimaginably soft: pale red in color and at a level of ticklishness that only being submerged in an ocean of Witches’ Brew could have created. She ran her fingernails up and down the arches: sometimes quickly, other times skittering in slow, random patterns that were impossible to predict. She gently pinched the skin beneath the balls of her feet, and attacked with quick, concentrated scribbling on her insteps. The Enchantress’ long, nimble toes danced in every direction, jolting and twisting in seemingly impossible movements. There was not an inch of her tall, smooth soles that was not unbearably, mind-shatteringly ticklish.
And behind her, Khylia had a score to settle of her own. Her long, lithe fingers sensuously tickled and fondled the demoness’ enormous fiery-red breasts: cupping them, stroking them, playing with them in a thousand ticklish ways that only a succubus could know. She teased the erect nipples, pressing them gently between her fingers, driving her wild with mounting desire until her hands would slide down the sides of her copious breasts and into the exposed underarms, which Khylia tickled with delight.
“Koochie koochie koo,” taunted Khylia, with her silken fingertips flicking with aching gentleness across the Enchantress’ soft, helpless underarms. “See how you like being tickled, hmm?”
Khylia smiled and fluttered her fingertips in the ticklish hollows, as she leaned down and slowly licked around the outsides of her quivering breasts. The soft, teasing touch was doubly torturous: the demoness screamed with laughter and mounting desire as Khylia made a plaything of her body. The Enchantress fought desperately to lower her arms, but the unbearably soft skin remained exposed and helpless against the succubus’ unrelenting tickling. Khylia’s hot breath cascaded over the demoness’ chest as her tongue slowly rounded the heaving breasts, stopping to gently lap up the most sensitive spots of all with the flickering tip of her tongue.
Beneath them, the Red Enchantress screamed with unbridled laughter. Once a being of cold malice, she now burned as brightly as the sun. Fire and passion flowed forth from her, growing more intense as her laughter reached a fever pitch. She tried to cry out, “Stop!”, but words would not come. Even the tears that streamed from her wild eyes were flecked with gold: a sign of how unbearably ticklish she had become. She fought and thrashed beneath their teasing touch, but nothing could protect her naked body from the unyielding tickling.
“Mmm, yes!” Jeina declared, moving closer to the wriggling feet to smell their perfumed musk. She was bathed in the glow of victory, of righteous retribution; but that was not all she felt. A burning desire was welling up inside her, fueled by her chance to tickle such a stunning, exquisite body. And from the feel of it, she was not alone.
Jeina could feel the arousal coming off the demoness’ body like heat from a furnace, and it affected her as well. While her fingers continued to ravage the ticklish soles in front of them, Jeina bent down and gently planted a kiss on the tops of the wriggling feet. And then another, and another, until her lips were planted on the soft skin and her tongue-play wove across the tops of her feet, tickling these tender tootsies from above while her fingernails tortured them from below. She slid her tongue down into the crevasses between the splaying toes, wrapping snake-like around them and savoring the intoxicating flavor.
Behind her, Khylia ravished the flawless body beneath her, all her skill at giving pleasure mixing with her skill at manipulating a ticklish body. Her fingers played with the demoness’ ticklish underarms like a virtuoso, every touch accompanied by a lick along her sensitive, ticklish breasts. Khylia pressed herself against the body she was devouring, her own bare breasts rubbing against the demoness’ silken skin and causing her nipples to become hard. Every touch, every ounce of shared body heat, every taste of the sweet skin on her tongue was bliss. She wanted more, drinking in the laughter and moans of pleasure that her tickling produced. She could feel it building up, and so could the Enchantress: a tsunami of sexual pleasure, ready to burst through the floodgates, and nothing could stop it.
The Enchantress screamed louder, and every muscle in her body went rigid. It was coming…
And the Enchantress could hold back no longer. Every nerve in her body was ablaze with excitement and lust. For a fraction of a second, there was silence; and then her cries pierced the heights of ecstasy as she reached climax with a power she had never known before. In an instant of superhuman strength, her body lifted up from the ground, until it was floating in midair from the sheer force of her will. The heat from her body seemed to fill the entire tower, blanking out her mind until only animal passion remained. Her deafening screams became even louder, and a blinding red light poured forth from her taut, ecstatic body. Pure power, untempered demonic energy rushed out of her; the iron grip holding it back was loosened at last. The heat and the light became so powerful that they burned like fire, but Jeina and Khylia felt nothing but the rapture of the moment. And then, the light engulfed everything.
And then, it was gone. Jeina and Khylia lay on the floor, alone in the tower. It was over.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. They lay in silence as their minds grasped what they had just experienced.
“Where did she go?” asked Jeina at last, still staring at the spot on the floor that had held the demoness’ body seconds before.
“All her power is gone,” replied Khylia, quietly. “She experienced something more powerful than all her magic could handle.”
“And what happened to her?” asked Jeina.
“No one summoned her here,” explained Khylia. “The magic binding her to this Plane was her own. And with her demonic powers gone, there was nothing left to anchor her in your world. She returned home, to the Demonic Plane.” Suddenly Khylia gasped as she felt a chill through her body. She took a step backwards. “I can feel it too,” she said. “The magic binding me here is gone. I’m being called back home.”
Jeina looked up at her. “Will…will I ever see you again?” she asked softly.
Khylia smiled with tenderness in her eyes. “I come here more often than you might know,” she said with a wistful smile. “My life takes me to all sorts of places on this Plane. I’d say to keep your eyes open. I have a feeling our paths may cross again someday.”
Jeina smiled back at her. “Thanks. I’ll do that.”
There was a peal of thunder from above. The rain was coming.
A single pure, untainted raindrop fell from above onto the stone floor. The two of them placed their arms around each other, gazing into each other’s eyes without a word. They drew closer into a tender embrace, their two naked bodies pressed against each other softly. Standing together in the gentle rainfall, their lips slowly met for a long, lingering kiss farewell.
Epilogue
It is said that the greatest mark of a heroic deed is that it makes the world a better place. And as the sun rose over Port Bastion the next morning, there was a widespread feeling among all its citizens that they were waking up to a new day and a better life.
Life was good once again for the Sorority of City Guards. With the looming threat of the Sages’ expanding power now gone, they could go back to doing the thing they did best: preventing crimes of a more physical nature. And no one was gladder to see things return to normal than Jeina. After a day dealing with the supernatural, the only thing she wanted was a night out drinking with her sorority sisters. She regaled them all with tales of her adventure behind enemy lines, all the while accepting round after round of drinks bought for her by an appreciative audience. With duty served and mission accomplished, she and all of her sisters could look forward to a new day of law enforcement; but before that would come a night of drinking, song, and celebration lasting until the dawn. It was a hero’s welcome that Jeina richly deserved.
Life was good, too, for the Sorority of Thieves. With the balance of power restored, they could return to doing what they did best: catering to the needs of the city’s dark underbelly. Life went on; people would always need goods stolen and other extralegal services rendered. Now the Sorority of Thieves could go back to filling that market niche without fear of magical reprisal. Once works of art began disappearing from the wealthy manors, and the city’s fences and pawnbrokers found themselves with work once again, people knew things were returning to normal.
Life was even better for the Sorority of Sages. After their brief flirtation with real power, too many of the girls discovered that they had no taste for conquest. The enjoyment of the old days: late-night roleplaying campaigns, running gaming sessions, and the academic pleasures of studying ancient magic texts; all that had slowly slipped away from them and had been replaced with something that felt too much like work. It took a certain temperament to truly enjoy power for its own sake, and most of the girls in the Sages’ House did not have it. They had been enticed by promises of magical mastery, but the reality of it had been somewhat frightening and not much fun at all. Even though most of them would never admit it, they were glad that things were back to the way they used to be.
Meanwhile, in the Demonic Realm, Khylia leaned against the bar in The Dark Spiral, watching the dance floor contemplatively as she sipped an Azure Rift out of a long-stemmed martini glass.
“Well, you’re certainly looking pleased with yourself,” said a voice behind her.
Khylia turned around. It was Sha’aest, one of her fellow succubi, apparently just arriving with the late evening crowd and ordering a drink.
Khylia chuckled. “Yes, I suppose you could say that.”
Sha’aest smirked and arched her eyebrow. “And this wouldn’t have anything to do with all the rumors flying around about your most recent job, and all the chaos it caused in Demonic Affairs?”
“Oh, Demonic Affairs is in an uproar, all right,” said Khylia. “Management is turning the whole department upside-down to figure out how a full demoness managed to get to the Corporeal Plane without anyone noticing. There were no records, no authorizations, nothing on file at all. I hear management is calling for a full audit of all Summoning Queue paperwork, and the whole department is suspended until it’s finished.”
Sha’aest looked impressed. “And what’s going to happen to the succubi in the meantime?” she asked.
“With no Summoning Queue, we’re all on official vacation,” said Khylia. “At least until they get this whole mess sorted out.”
“Any idea how long that could take?” Sha’aest asked.
Khylia smirked and shrugged her shoulders. “Could be weeks. The way the whole bureaucracy is run, maybe even longer.” She looked back over at the dance floor, which was beginning to fill up. “So, are you staying out this evening?”
Sha’aest giggled. “Why not?” she asked. “It sounds like I don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow morning.”
Khylia leaned back, and sighed with contentment as she took another sip of her drink.
Life was good.
- The End -
Last edited:
