With the nagging desire to know what Rachel is up to keeping your urge to rip away her thong and take her right then and there - mounting her from behind and ramming your massive demon dick into her obviously wet pussy - you leisurely ascend the stairs at her request, Becky in tow. She is obviously just as curious as you are, but that doesn’t stop her from probing and rubbing at your cock and balls with her phallic tail as you walk.
You reach the bedroom and blink in surprise. The room is tiny - with only enough room for the single bed one corner, a large work desk opposite and a small space for walking and a chair in between. Books and papers are stacked haphazardly over the desk as well as pencils, half-full beakers, test-tubes, a ruler, a thermometer and other scientific paraphernalia. Dominating the left hand side is a retort stand and a small distillery apparatus. The bed is messy, the pink sheets and white duvet splotched with a varying hue of stains, no doubt from Rachel’s experiments.
Rachel reclines in the desk-chair and grins at the pair of you. “When I heard that sex demons had attacked the city, I was as frightened as everyone else at first,” she explained. “Then I realised how much of a boon it would be to me. My research doesn’t give me much time for a social life. I s’pose I turned to science after being used too often for my body and not my mind. But if I was a succubus like you,” she eyed Becky and sighed longingly, “I could conduct both at the same time, in the name of Satan.” She blushes at that and raises her hand as if taking a vow in court. “Closet Satanist here. I was born to it and didn’t really believe a whole lot until you guys showed up. My parents and I didn’t get along too well.”
You snort in dry amusement. “I’m with you so far,” you say, resisting the urge to plunge your face between her legs and infect her with your tongue. “You said you needed a sample. What for?” |