The Coming of the Queen

He had long planned the exact way he would die. By explosives and gunshots, he would whittle his body into a temporary work of art until he could no longer stand the pain; then a final explosion would turn the art and him into a red splatter. He had all the supplies he needed…

…thousands of miles away. Damnation to this sudden trip he had to take, to this crime-swept city; assaulted and left without identification, without credit, without money other than a few dollars he kept hidden in his shoes, it was all he could do to rent a room at the cheapest hotel in town. He ached; he knew the wounds from the attack would lead to his death eventually; he began to be desperate enough to settle for a rope.

It was a dark night, with no moon to disturb what rest he could get. He lay back to try to get some sleep, some relief… when suddenly his cock started to grow and stiffen. He looked at it in a disbelieving fascination; it was longer than it had ever been. Soon the reason appeared: his salvation.

The Queen of the Succubi had come for him. A demonic smile on Her face, gold flecks in Her dead-black eyes, clawed hands and feet, and proudly naked, She drifted over him with the powers of a Goddess. He leaned his head back and bared his throat for a killing stroke; but that was not Her plan. Not yet.

She set Her clawed hands around his neck, being careful not to leave the tiniest scratch. Squeezing his neck until he was gasping for breath, She impaled Her burning cunt on his massive, now inhumanly powerful cock. The heat and the strangulation only served to make him hornier, harder, and longer, and the Queen was well pleased. She rode him as if he were a brute beast, for She is a Goddess, and he only a rough human. She took her pleasure of him; then released his throat to prepare to milk him.

Taking deep breaths, his body jerking to slam into Her even harder, his balls and his cock prepared and let out one massive explosion of cum into her body. He thought he was spent; but She leaned down and kissed him, giving him the energy to please Her yet again. Her mouth was hot and tasted of bitter spices; Her tongue plunged into his mouth and licked the back of his throat until he began to rise again. Once more he came, feeling as if his cock would be torn from his body by the sheer pressure pouring through it.

After his cock had shot again, he felt it start to build again, apparently on its own. He leaned up and forward, neck still bared, and dared to embrace the Queen. She chuckled and purred, and as he came for the third time, She reached out Her clawed hands once again this time to slice both of his carotids open. His body fell back heavily on to the bed, his blood showering Her as she leaned forward to drink his blood - and his soul.

Three days later, summoned by the hotel owner, the police came to investigate an apparent homicide. They were puzzled both by the relaxed smile on the man's face and the fact that, despite being dead, his cock was thirteen inches long. There are those who know when questions are useless; one of these made sure that the case quickly became as cold as the man's body.




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Last updated: Sunday, May 20, 2007