They never stop

Fiona grabbed the back of his head and pushed him down the length of her toy, making him gag. She then pulled his head away, giving him a chance to clear his throat before shoving the dildo back in his mouth. He sucked more enthusiastically the second time, bobbing his head up and down. She thrust her hips, jabbing at the back of his throat.

"Keep sucking. Stacy, be a good girl and prep him."

Frank could not focus on what 'prep' meant; his abused throat was stuffed with plastic cock. As he sucked, he felt something wet and wiggling moving on his asshole. He realized it was Stacy's long demonic tongue. Her rimming of his tight hole felt surprisingly good; very fucking good! Her tongue slithered past his outer ring, darting in and out of him.

Frank's pheromone-fogged mind released his inhibitions. He actually enjoyed sucking this plastic dick and having his asshole played with. Frank stroked his own cock as the two demons made him their filthy fuck-slut.

"I see you're enjoying yourself now. Time for the big finish!"

Fiona moved backward and stretched her arm out. Frank was raised and suspended in mid-air, his back parallel to the floor. His arms were painfully stretched out to his sides by glowing purple magical chains that sprang from the walls. His legs, vertical and spread, were also bound by more chains that dropped from the ceiling. Fiona walked between his legs, resting the tip of her toy against his back entrance.

"You raped Phoebe before you killed her. It's only fitting that I do the same to you."

Fiona's horns, wings, and tail sprouted from her sexy body, preparing to feed.

"Wait! No!" Frank cried out in terror at the sight of her demonic figure while he struggled against his bindings.

Fiona ignored his plea, stabbing through Frank's tight asshole with her plastic cock. She made no attempt to be gentle. She speared his ass savagely, as rough and painful as she possibly could, grabbing his legs for leverage. Frank cried in vain, begging for a mercy that would never come. She drove into him with long fast strokes, making sure he felt every inch each and every time.

Before long, the pain turned to numbness and even perverse masochistic joy as Frank submitted to Fiona's demonic will. Each time the head of her cock brushed against the thin wall by Frank's prostate, he felt immense pleasure he had never experienced. His cock grew, standing tall, announcing his definite liking of what she was doing to him.

Fiona looked down at Stacy, who lay on the floor playing with her pussy. "You want to have some fun too, Stacy?"

Stacy excitedly nodded her head.

"Very well, help yourself."

Stacy quickly stood. She straddled Frank's head and squatted her molten hot pussy onto his mouth. Frank mumbled loudly into her dripping blistering sex while Fiona continued to vigorously fuck his asshole. He could not breathe, and her juices scalded his face.

Stacy enjoyed suffocating him. She mewled pleasurably and ground her pussy into his helpless face. The devilkin leaned forward and coiled her unnaturally long tongue around Frank's throbbing cock. Her serpent tongue stroked him, covering his cock in her saliva.

"Time to finish this!" Fiona declared.

Stacy climbed off Frank; her lengthy 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 cock ring. Fiona pulled her strap-on out of Frank's anus and perched her mouth above his member.

"You don't deserve to die inside my pussy. 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. Fiona swallowed his cock 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 dick. Her suction was painfully intense, but not enough to stop Frank's final orgasm. When Fiona snapped her fingers, Stacy's tongue let go, releasing a flood of Frank's cum into Fiona's mouth. She ingested everything; his cum, his life force, his soul.

Frank felt his very being separate from his shriveled form. He was drawn inside Fiona'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 Fiona'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 sex-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!"

*****

Drayce sat on the edge of his couch in his apartment, waiting for Fiona 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 Phoebe '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 fucking Phoebe ; and now, even though he will die doing it, Frank would get to fuck Fiona too.

"That fucking bastard!" Drayce shouted, breaking his fresh bottle of beer against the living room wall.

Drayce 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 one.

A gateway flashed into existence on the other side of the coffee table and Fiona stepped through. For the first time, Drayce beheld her scantly clad body and was not overrun with thoughts of lust.

"Nice outfit," he drunkenly mumbled.

Fiona ignored his compliment and shed her dominatrix gear. "It is done."

"How was he?" Drayce snottily asked.

"I made him suffer as you requested. His soul tasted like burnt bread, if that's what you want to know."

"Did you enjoy fucking him? Like Phoebe did?" he grumbled.

Fiona scowled. "For your information, he only entered my mouth. If there was a simpler, less degrading way of taking his soul, I would have done it."

☆