Kiss of the Succubus Ch. 06

As far as she could tell, she had. She'd handed herself over, naked and defenseless, for Lukas to claim as his own. Faster and faster he ravaged her like an untamed animal. Grace let out a desperate scream, only for Lukas to let out his own cry- of victory.

"Please kill me!" Grace cried. "Please, just kill me!"

Lukas stopped.

"Are you in some kind of hurry Grace? You know once you're dead it will be much worse. In Hell I can do so many more wicked things to you than I can here. Trust me when I say, you'll want this to last as long as possible."

Grace let out a long whimper, and Lukas continued thrusting. If what Lukas said was true, if the worst horror was still yet to come, Grace wondered if she'd made the wrong choice surrendering herself. Seeing Kayla, still perched at the top of the cliff far in the distance, reminded her she hadn't. As long as Kayla lived, no burden would be too severe.

His thrusting pace quickened, and Grace could feel him approaching his climax. She winced as she felt her pussy fill with his cool cum, and he exhaled softly as he did. Grace squeezed her eyes shut and tried to wish herself away to some other place. Her guardian angel, if she had one, didn't seem to be listening, because Grace remained right where she was.

"We're almost finished, Grace," he whispered into her ear. "Now I just need you to turn over."

"No, please," Grace pleaded. But she knew Balko's M.O. He never left any orifice untouched. But she did not want Lukas sodomizing her for more reasons than just her normal reluctance. She'd hidden a surprise for him in there. She knew he would spot any weapon she tried to bring with her if she was nude, so she'd hidden the broken tip of her wooden stake between her buttocks. She'd held them tight her entire walk down to the beach, and it remained in place despite her branding and forced intercourse. But she could keep it hidden no longer if he wished to penetrate her anus.

Balko withdrew from Grace's vagina, and picked up a handful of sand. Gently, he released the sand in a steady stream upon Grace's brand. She screamed, and jerked away, only for Balko to grab her thigh and hold it in place until he'd released the entire fistful of sand onto her burn.

"STOP! STOP! STOP!" she wailed.

"Are you going to be a good girl?" Lukas asked.

Grace nodded frantically.

"Then turn over."

"Just give me a minute," she said, panting. She prayed she might distract him just long enough that she could get the stake without him noticing. She prayed she would be fast enough.

Lukas shook his head, and grabbed a second handful of sand. Grace immediately flipped onto her belly, palming the stake as she did. She slipped her stake-wielding fist into the sand and prayed he did not see.

Lukas seemed more enamored by her bare ass. He gently ran his fingers between her buttocks and spread them apart. He hawked, and lobbed a wad of spit into her anus, and pressed his penis inside her.

Grace groaned, and released her grip on the stake, leaving it buried in the sand. Lukas ran his throbbing member back and forth through her anus, causing Grace to squeal in discomfort. Lukas chuckled. He loved when women squealed.

Grace clutched the ground, gripping the sand with her open palms while Lukas thrusted himself between her buttocks. She found herself growing to hate Balko more than ever when she thought of the countless other women who'd suffered this same hellish treatment before her. She turned to stare out at the floating ghosts above the water; all watching solemnly the fate they'd already endured.

Grace tried counting them; trying to find something to get her mind off of the terrible ordeal she was experiencing, but there were far too many. Worst of all, Lukas was proud of it. To him, those ghosts were trophies he was displaying with pride before he would add her to his collection.

"Why? Why, why why?" she asked herself. She knew no answer would satisfy her. She quietly sobbed to herself, dejected and defeated.

It was then she felt him release, and she knew her ordeal, this part at least, might finally be over. Lukas removed himself from inside her, and stared at Grace, who lay face down in the sand whimpering. He rested his hand on the back of her thigh and patted it consolingly.

"Oh there, there, Grace, it's almost over for you."

Grace ran her hands through the sand and felt it. The stake was there. Lukas grabbed Grace's arms and pulled her up to a kneeling position. She palmed the stake point as she did, holding hit beside her thigh where she hoped Balko could not see it. He turned her body so she faced the cliff where Kayla stood.

"There she is," Lukas said. "Take one last look at her."

She seemed to be glowing. Grace realized Kayla was illuminated in some kind of light, like a car's headlights. Someone had just arrived at the cottage. An uneasy feeling formed in the pit of her stomach.

"You're going to kill her anyway, aren't you?"

"Grace, don't be silly. We made a deal. I intend to keep it. Now look at her. Take one last look."

Grace watched her daughter stand motionless at the cliff's edge, while Lukas ran his lips slowly up the side of her cheek and down her neck. He could see the pulsing of her blood, coursing just below the surface of her skin. Warm and delicious.

Grace squeezed the stake point firmly. If she was going to try this, she would have to be fast. She could not afford to fail this time.

Too slow! Sam's voice echoed in her head. A vision of Benny's dead eyes flashed before her. Grace swallowed, and tried to put the memory out of her mind.

You can do this, she thought silently to herself. Just don't hesitate. You can do this.

"Yes, almost over for you," Lukas repeated, and prepared himself for a feast. He sprouted fangs, and in one swift movement, Grace jabbed the pointed wood into his chest. His eyes went wide in horror upon realizing how close to his heart he'd been cut. He was about to grab Grace's arm and rip her away, when Grace twisted the stake and Lukas howled.

* * * * *

He didn't so much step out of the car as fall out. Joe got a face full of gravel when he landed, and struggled to pull himself back to his feet.

"I'm not gonna do it I'm not gonna do it I'm not gonna do it!"

You will, Joey. You will.

"No! I can't!"

He rolled onto his back at stared up at the night sky, and prayed a meteor or bolt of lightning would strike him dead.

Get up, Joey. You have work to do.

Joe looked past the cottage, and all the way towards the cliff where Kayla was standing.

"No! Please don't make me do it!"

Go. Go now.

He crawled towards her on all fours at first, and then climbed up to a hunch as he ran towards the cliff edge like a baboon.

"I won't do it! I won't!" He shouted, but his legs carried him towards her anyway. He ran faster and faster, and found himself coming closer and closer to the girl, filling his own heart with dread.

"Please don't," he whispered to himself, sobbing.

You must. Go to her, Joey. Go to her now.

He ran closer.

"I can't do it! I can't do it!"

You can, Joey. Just go to her. Just give her a little... push."

"NO!"

Kayla blinked, and suddenly realized where she was. She turned around, only to see Joe running towards her.

"Uncle Joe?" she asked, incredulously.

"Kayla! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

Kayla didn't understand, but the stare in Joe's eyes frightened her.

Do it, Joe.

He barely had to tap her. The small girl went over the edge so easily. Her loud scream pierced the night air. He watched her plummet down, and down, and down...

* * * * *

"KAYLA!"

Grace had heard of one's life flashing before their eyes just before a death, but seeing Kayla's life flash before her own eyes was a new experience for her. Every memory she had of her daughter played in her mind as she watched the small blonde haired girl drop straight into the rocks below, silencing the youngster's scream.

"NO!"

Grace leaped to her feet. Her burning thigh disappeared from her thoughts; as far as she knew, Lukas Balko (was he alive or dead?) didn't exist. Grace ran headlong back up the dirt path, back to the cliff top, back to where she prayed she would find Kayla safe and sound, and to find her eyes had simply played tricks on her.

Joe Pratt met her halfway up the path. He stood in the center of the trail, sobbing.

"I'm sorry, Grace," he whimpered. Drawing his Glock, he aimed it at Grace. He froze.

Grace had to slow her breathing before she could speak.

"Joe- if you did, what I think you did, you had better pull that trigger."

Joe gulped.

"I know."

Only the sound of crickets and the waves lapping against the shoreline filled the silence as the two former detectives stared each other in the eye.

Joe had to close his eyes and turn his head away, but he fired. He had to open them to see if he'd hit his target, and he had. His bullet hit Grace square in the chest.

He fired again, hitting her in the stomach, and again, and again, filling her torso with bullets before firing two final rounds into her neck. He nearly had to vomit when he saw Grace slump to the ground, blood spurting from every hole he'd just put in her.

"There! I did it! You happy bitch? I killed my partner and her daughter!"

You're not finished yet, Joe. You still have one more job to do for Me.

Joe dropped to his knees and buried his face in his hands.

"Oh God oh God oh God."

Joe got up and hurried back up the dirt path, glad to put the horrifying sight of his dead partner behind him. He opened the trunk of his Impala, where Bethany Dutton lay inside. Her mouth was gagged, and her hands were bound in rope.

"Get out, bitch!" Joe aimed his Glock at Bethany, and she immediately climbed out of the trunk.

He held the barrel to her back, and Bethany cringed when she felt the hot muzzle touch her skin. She was only in her bra and panties; Joe had demanded she strip naked but she'd refused. Joe seemed a bit more insistent this time.

"Get in the house!"

Bethany was hesitant to approach the old dilapidated cottage, but the gun to her back kept her moving. She wrung her tightly bound hands together as they stepped closer and closer to the cottage. Joe led her up the creaking porch and through the front door. It was almost pitch black inside, and Joe couldn't see a damned thing.

"Move!" he shouted, both in frustration of not being able to see, as well as at Bethany for not moving.

"Where?" Bethany asked, terrified.

"Down the hall!" Joe shouted, though he too, was unsure exactly where that was. Taking small baby steps, he was able to navigate his way through the darkness down the hall towards the master bedroom. A window inside with a view of the back yard provided just enough light that he could make out the layout of the room. He ordered Bethany inside. She went in, and turned to face Joe.

"Now strip!" he ordered.

Bethany shook her head.

"No! Please don't rape me!"

Joe raised his arm, pointing the gun directly to her forehead.

"Don't make me tell you again!"

Bethany struggled with the ropes on her wrists, prompting Joe to loosen them. He held his Glock with his right hand until he got the ropes unfastened, and he indicated for her to continue. Bethany proceeded to remove her bra and underwear, and then stood with her arms covering her breasts and pubic area. Joe removed a set of handcuffs from his belt, and tossed them onto the bed.

"Cuff yourself. To the bedpost."

Bethany locked one end of the cuffs to her left wrist and the other to the bedpost on the ornate oak headboard. She looked at Joe apprehensively.

"There! I did everything you wanted!" he screamed, staring at the ceiling. "I did everything! Now get this-" he unbuckled his pants and pulled them to his feet- "motherfucking thing OFF me!"

He stormed down the hallway, leaving Bethany shaking where she stood.

"You hear me, bitch? Get this OFF-" he trailed off, when he noticed, there in the dim light, a key lying on the end table in the living room. He had to look closely, but it looked like the skeleton key, the same one Gabby used to lock him up in the first place. He grabbed the key, and felt a sharp burn. His skin hissed, and he quickly dropped the key to the floor.

"Fuck!" he cursed, and examined the growing blister on his palm.

The deep crimson jewels in the skull's eyes glowed; illuminating the dark room. A flame formed around the key. It didn't appear to burn the floor or anything else; instead the flame seemed to restrict itself to the key, which glowed brighter with each passing second.

Joe watched, open-mouthed, as the flame shot up in the air and twirled around in a loop. Faster and faster the flames spun, forming a spiral of fire that opened a hole in the very fabric of reality. Joe backed away, feeling an intense heat before him. Hotter than any inferno he'd ever felt, the intense heat nearly scalded his face as he watched in complete awe at what appeared before him.

It looked to be a tunnel made entirely of fire; with the opening on the other end revealing a glimpse of Hell itself. He could hear the tortured screams of the damned as he watched them wallow in fire and misery before his very eyes. Joe dropped his Glock in shock. He'd never witnessed anything so explicitly and intensely horrifying in all his life.

It was beautiful in a way. No place on Earth was so horrendous it defied all logic, the way this vision of Hell appeared to him. He wanted to run away, but something held him in place.

It was then that a figure appeared within the swirling portal. It walked towards him, despite there being no ground upon which to lay its feet. The figure emerged, and Joe recognized it as Gabby Becket, or at the very least, a perverted form of the body that had once belonged to her.

Horns had grown from her head, twisted and gnarled. Her eyes pulsed with hunger. Her nails were long and sharp, like the talons of a bird. On her back were long black wings that spread open as she entered the room. Joe was so transfixed on the demoness' flawless naked body he momentarily forgot what exactly he wanted from her. It wasn't until he felt the stirring of his excited penis within its cage that he remembered.

"I- I did what you wanted," Joe stuttered. He felt his voice go flat; unable to take his eyes off her.

Gabby grinned.

"Yes, you did, Joey. You've been such a good boy. So good..."

She held up her hand, and the skeleton key flew up from the floor and into her palm. She slipped the key into the padlock, and turned it.

Joe felt instant relief the second Gabby removed the cock cage. His penis rose to full mast; throbbing and desperate for attention from the exotic succubus.

"You've waited so long, Joey," she said sweetly, batting her eyelashes over her snake-like eyes. "Time to collect your reward."

For the first time that day, a smile formed across Joe's face. Gabby took him in her arms, and pressed her lips against his. For a split second, it felt like paradise. Her lips, so soft, so warm, so full, tantalized him. But it was not love that came with that erotic kiss. Even when he felt her forked tongue creep into his mouth and sensually tease his lips and tongue, he could feel something terrible brewing within himself.

A stab of pain, sharper than any knife, cut through his very being. He could feel his soul being torn from his body, mercilessly and violently. Worse than the feeling of having his flesh ripped from his bones, he could feel his spirit being drained from his body through his mouth and into Gabby's.

He tried to pull away, but her soft feminine hands held his neck like a vice. Her hunger was insatiable, and she fed on his soul; devoured it completely out of existence. He tried to scream, but her mouth swallowed not only the sound, but the scream itself. Only his mind was able to exclaim in agony at what she was doing to him.

What are you?

His question was answered not with words, but with excruciating agony few men had ever felt. He saw for an instant who she really was. She was not Gabby Becket, deceased housewife. This was a demoness, one that had crawled from the deepest pits of Hell, and it had made Gabby's undead body the vessel for its existence on Earth.

Deeper it kissed him, every second consuming more of his soul, leaving only dwindling fractions of it that he found himself unable to retain for long. He grabbed her arms, and her shoulders, trying to pry her grasp on him loose, but his strength dwindled right along with his soul. Opening his eyes wide, he cried out, begging her for mercy, but she kept hers closed while she savored the taste of Joe's very being. Life as he knew it came to a devastating collapse, one that would never be undone. He was hers, forever and ever, and he would never again be whole.

After an eternity, she drained the last vestiges of his soul, leaving Joe a mere shell of a man. An agonizingly empty hole remained where his heart and soul had been, and when Gabby opened her eyes, he could see in her smile that she had greatly enjoyed her meal. She stared into his eyes, and into the empty spot where his soul had been.

Now you're damned!

His heart came to a stop, and Joe Pratt's lifeless body fell to the floor.

* * * * *

"Grace, wake up."

She blinked her eyes.

"Grace. Wake up."

She opened them. Daniel Becket stared down at her, shaking her awake. The intense pain, the throbbing agony, it was gone. She sat up.

She was still in the woods, lying in the dirt path to the beach in a puddle of her own blood. Daniel crouched next to her; his will returned to him.

"Mr. Becket?" she asked, confused. She had to retrace in her mind everything that had happened. Balko branding her. The rape. Stabbing him with the stake. Kayla falling.

The pain returned. Not the physical pain, but the memory of the little girl falling from the cliff played in her mind.

"Oh God, Kayla fell!" She rose to get up, but Daniel stopped her.

"Grace, Grace! There's nothing you can do!"

Grace broke into tears.

"No! He killed her! He-"

Joe. Joe Pratt was the one who'd pushed her. And then he shot Grace.

She looked down at her own body. The bullet holes had healed, as had the cuts on her feet. She could feel a throbbing ache on each part of her body where she'd been shot, but the bullet holes had healed completely. The branded letters on her thigh were the only injury on her body that remained.

"What happened to me?"

Daniel shook his head.

"I found you like this. Gabby came by. She helped Balko up. He's still alive. They're in the cottage now."

Balko. The name made Grace ache for vengeance.

"Why is he in the cottage?" she asked.

"He's weak. You stabbed him good, Grace. You almost did him in. Now Gabby's probably nursing him back to health." He paused. "I think they've got a girl in there. I heard her screaming."

"They need her blood. If he drinks enough he'll heal completely," Grace said. "We have to kill him now."

"With what?"

"Follow me."

She hurried up the dirt path, and Daniel stayed close behind her. Truthfully, he was surprised Grace awoke. When he first found her he couldn't make a pulse or a breath.

At the end of the path, Grace stopped. The cottage stood before her, but so did the cliff. She had to look. She had to be certain.

"Grace, no!"

There was no stopping her. Grace ran to the cliff and stared straight down. Kayla lay on the rocks far below; the ocean waves splashing over her.

"NO!" she screamed. Daniel held her in his arms and squeezed.

"I'm so sorry, Grace! I'm so sorry!"