Excessica Anthology BOX SET Winter (37 page)

He
did not argue. He simply got to his feet on the bed, put his hands on her hips,
and hauled her into the air. He set her down on her head. She instinctively put
down her hands to brace herself, and discovered she was doing it: she was
standing on her head.

“Now
spread your legs in a V,” he ordered.

She
tried and succeeded. It seemed she could do things in her spiritual state she
couldn't even try in her physical state. She was standing on her head with her
legs spread in a V formation.

Did
this bring her head into the range of his penis? She suspected it didn't,
because the ban was not exactly directional. He simply could not make her do
fellatio. Yet.

He
kneeled behind her and put his face down into her open cleft. He slobbered all
across it, then ran his tongue into her packed vagina and her empty rectum. She
was unable to resist, because her hands were occupied maintaining her balance,
her legs were locked apart, and she wanted him to get turned on whatever way he
could without stimulating her to a matching orgasm. If tasting her holes did
it, then so be it.

He
stood, leaned over her, and put his giant member to her vulva. Was he going it
inject another bolus there? She would burst asunder! No, to her mixed relief he
oriented on her lubricated anus and bore down. His member rammed past the
involuntarily tight sphincter and into the colon like a pylon being pounded
into the ground. The pain was terrible.

She
screamed in agony, but the brutal penetration continued. A foot long? It had
grown! It felt like eighteen inches, six thick, mercilessly jamming down into
her inverted guts. No wonder he had made her assume this position: without
solid bracing, she could have risen to the ceiling instead of taking in this
monster. She was already inflated by the bowling-ball sized mass of ejaculate
in her locked vagina; now she was doubly distended by the sheer mass of the member.
She was amazed that her flesh could handle it without tearing. But of course
this too was different in the spirit mode: she was not limited by the limits of
flesh. Down and down it drove, until she almost feared it would come out of her
mouth.

At
last it stopped, though her whole belly felt bloated. It paused a moment, then
drew back slightly. Was he starting his thrusting toward his second climax? It
seemed too soon, but of course he was not subject to mortal limits, and it was
already as thick and hard as a phallus could get. So maybe he could do it now.

He
shoved down again, and she felt her intestines squishing to the sides, forced
out of the way. He withdrew, and thrust, and again her innards roiled. But the
pace did not pick up in the manner of a developing climax, and she concluded
that he was after all not yet ready.

He
bent forward and down without dislodging his member, his upper body folding
until it pressed against her front. What was he doing?

Then
she felt his mouth at her breasts, which here hanging upside down. Oh, that
again. He sucked in a nipple and masticated it with his course lips. As he did,
she felt his massive penis throb within her. He was getting stimulation from
the oral contact. That was, she supposed good. She dreaded his next emission,
but she needed to evoke it, the sooner the better.

He
moved across and mouthed the other nipple. His member pulsed again. He took in
as much of the breast as he could, and his penis seemed to expand. So he was
getting there, slowly. Fortunately she was not. How could she, in such an
awkward position, her body stuffed like a holiday turkey?

Then
he brought his hands to her ribs and stroked her ribs. Oh, no, he was going to
tickle her again! “Please don't!” she pleaded.

But
he did. He tickled her exquisitely. She burst into helpless laughter, feeling
her body convulse against his rigid member. That was what he wanted: to make
her do the work for his deeper penetration. She had no choice but to oblige.
She compressed his penis with her involuntary agitation. This was not at all
comfortable for her, but she did feel some further twitching as it responded.

Still
the phallus was not quite there. Even immortal sex demons needed time to
recover. That was too bad. Maybe he needed time to secrete another gallon of
ejaculate for his next emission.

His
hands left her tortured ribs and found her breasts, taking eager handfuls. His
head lowered farther. His gross face came up against hers. They were both
upside down, his knees at her back, his hands on her breasts, his penis wedged
deep in her innards, yet this seemed like another novelty. He kissed her mouth.
She kissed back. Anything to get him to climax and get the hell out of her
before she suffered terminal distention!

His
lips pried hers apart. Oh, damn! He was going to penetrate her this way too.
His tongue snaked through and entered her mouth, much as it had entered her
colon before. It tasted like a dog turd. It circulated around her mouth,
exploring. Then it stretched on to her throat. It touched the back of it.

She
choked as her gag reflex was triggered. She tried to vomit, but the tongue
swelled to block her throat, preventing it. She heaved helplessly, unable to
complete her puking. She felt her breasts pushing against his hands as her
bottom clenched against his groin. Her whole body was rocking with the force of
her frustrated nausea.

And
she felt his member swelling again. Her convolutions of sickness were doing
what her tickling reactions had not. They were at last evoking his climax.
Aroused, his penis thrust and thrust again, storming through the violent
contractions of her belly.

He
came. She felt another bolus forging through the massive pipeline, powering
down to the terminus, and finally bursting out below. On and on it surged, a
seemingly endless gushing of molten lava, inflating her like a tortured
balloon.

And
that evoked her response. She hated it, but amidst the throes of her helpless
gagging and the pain of her burning large intestine she was suffering a sexual
reaction. Something about all that hot semen making her belly swell
horrendously turned her awfully on. His climax was triggering hers.

She
came. Her colon rhythmically compressed his pumping member, squeezing the rest
of the ejaculate out of the spout. Her throat swallowed his tongue, squeezing
it similarly. Her enlarging breasts seemed about to squirt milk into his hands.
She was transfixed by a total body orgasm.

They
faded together, she on her head, he wrapped around her, anchored at genitalia
and mouths. She cursed it, because it was utterly disgusting, and she had
wanted to make him spurt without doing the equivalent herself. She had gained a
point, as it were, only to lose it immediately.

Yet
it had been another transcendent experience, the most violent, weird, and
powerful climax she had ever had. The very notion repelled her, but she could
be acquiring a taste for demon sex.

He
withdrew tongue and phallus at last, leaving her feeling like a tick swollen
with blood into the form of a cherry. She collapsed onto the bed, lying on her
back because of the severe fullness of her belly. Even late-term pregnancy had
not been like this! His thick semen filled her completely, front and back, and
she wasn't sure how she would ever get it all out. She felt her crotch with her
fingers and found her avenues sealed.

He
ran his coarse hands over her body, appreciating the continuing fullness
thereof. Maybe he regarded it as his work of art. He squeezed her breasts as
though they were succulent fruits. It seemed that even that giant second emission
had not completely depleted his erotic interest. She would have laughed, had it
been funny.

Then
he lay on her, cruelly squishing her body under his, kissing her. She felt like
roadkill flattened on the highway, her guts splayed to the sides, but she remembered
to firm her quivering lips. “One more night, my love,” he murmured. “Then you
will be mine completely.”

That
was exactly the problem. How could she get ahead of him, orgasmically, when his
foul climax triggered hers?

She
slept. She was uncomfortable as hell, with his gross weight on her bursting
belly, but there wasn't much else to do. His flaccid penis lay against her
vulva, lacking the rigidity to enter. She ignored it. Maybe he would tire of
her inattention to his efforts. But he continued kissing her, every so often
running his tongue in again. It was almost like nauseating love play.

In
the morning she woke alone, to find her body slender, and no evidence of sex,
let alone inflation by noxious fluids. It had all been spiritual, not physical.
That did not make it more comfortable to consider.

Especially
since a part of her already wanted to do it again. Yea, even the fluid
stuffing, even the squishing. There was something horribly erotic about such
masochism. Maybe it was the evil in her that craved sin. Did she really want to
destroy the incubus?

“Are
you all right, mommy?” Lisa asked solicitously.

And
there was her reason to wipe out the demon. To stop him from finishing with
Solita and moving on to Lita. She knew he would. He did not care about Lita
being an innocent child. She was pretty and she had orifices. He had no
conscience, by definition. Just a giant phallus and a gigantic warped sexual
desire. He had to be stopped.

“Yes,
now I am, dear,” she replied.

That
evening she dosed herself again with the potion, liberally covering all points
of possible interest. The incubus had raped her vaginally and anally; he would
most likely do her orally next time. She wasn't keen on having that monstrous
member jamming down her throat, but if that was what it took to be rid of him,
she was ready. She was two thirds lost, but so was he; if she could make him
climax first, without joining him, she would win. Everything depended on this
third night.

She
slept. The incubus came. He wasted no time in addressing her, as had been the
case before; it was his second orgasm that caused him to become infernally
creative, as he slowly worked himself up.

“On
your back,” he ordered. “Spread.”

What,
normal sex? She obliged, spreading her arms and legs. But he got on her
inverted, his phallus at her face, his face at her vulva. She should have
known. “Take it in.”

She
took the head of his member into her mouth. She had been mistaken about its
size; it was big, but not over two inches in diameter. Or maybe he simply sized
it smaller to fit the desired aperture.

“Suck.”

She
sucked. The thing expanded, but still fit in her mouth. So far so good; this
could bring him to climax but would have no effect on her.

He
put his face down and addressed her cleft. As before, he licked completely
across it, and ran his tongue into her vagina and then her colon. Doglike, he
liked to sniff and taste it first. This time she managed to keep her anal
sphincter loose to facilitate it. The longer she could distract him, the more
likely he was to climax before getting around to evoking hers. The contact was
actually halfway pleasant. That was dangerous.

He
shoved his member farther into her mouth. It touched the back, and she gagged
again. That wasn't pleasant! But as before, with the tongue, it swelled to
block her vomit, and she was unable to complete the reflex. The phallus slid on
down into her throat, filling it, cruelly dilating it. She could no longer
breathe, but it seemed she did not need to breathe in the spiritual state,
because she remained fully conscious and not actually that uncomfortable. She
could do this: she could bring him off in her throat and finally be rid of him.

Then
he addressed her clitoris. He fastened on it and sucked. Hard. It felt as if he
was trying to pull it out of her body. But rather than being painful, the
effect was evocative. She felt her sexual urgency forming and rapidly
increasing.

Oh,
no! He was going to bring her off first! She couldn't afford that.

She
swallowed his member, squeezing it as firmly as she could. She writhed, trying
to add to the stimulus. She needed to put more effort into his groin that he
put into hers.

But
he kept sucking, and her cursed clitoris kept responding. She couldn't stop it;
she was going into her orgasm. Damn!

She
came. Her pelvis jerked though there was nothing inside it, and her pulses
raced. Rapture radiated from her clitoris, extending through the rest of her
vulva and into her vagina and colon. And on through the rest of her body. She
was losing her soul, but what joy there was in the process!

The
incubus reacted to her climax. He liked to have her in whole-system motion,
whether from ticklishness, retching, or orgasm. He thrust hard down her throat,
once, twice, penetrating incredibly far, and the bolos of ejaculate pressured
through and out. It coursed directly into her stomach, filling it with hot
swirling soup. She felt her belly bloating with its turbulent volume, but she
didn't care because her own orgasm was carrying her onward. She had lost, but
what a way to go!

“Now
you are mine,” the incubus said as his emission faded and he drew his limp
member out of her throat. “Now I will possess you completely.”

As
if he hadn't done that already. “So it seems,” she agreed with resignation. She
had come so close! If he hadn't focused so determinedly on her clitoris, making
her want her climax, she'd have had him first. But as it was--

“What?”
he asked, surprised.

“What?”
she echoed, confused.

“Oh,
no!” he exclaimed. “A honeypot! I never suspected.”

“Well,
it was worth a try,” she agreed, catching on. He had finally realized that she
was doused with rat bait potion.

“Shit
fucking bitch! You tricked me.”

“Well,
it wasn't as if you didn't deserve it.”