Jack learns the price of becoming a demon

Tina's laughter curled around him like smoke. "Feel that?" she whispered. Something wet flicked against his ear—her tongue. He turned, startled. Where her tongue should be, now writhed two serpentine forks. "Every time we come," she murmured, breath hot, "another soul snaps free." Her split tongue traced his jugular. "All your old friends, your family—gone. Devoured."

Jack shuddered. Pleasure coiled tighter in his gut. The succubi crowded closer, their hands grasping his thighs. One pressed against his back, her nipples grazing his spine. He felt Tina's climax building again, her inner walls fluttering around him. A name surfaced—Gwen—then dissolved into static. Her scream ripped through him, dragging his release with it.

The room pulsed black-red. Shadows thickened into humanoid forms—faceless, writhing. Jack glimpsed Keith's lopsided grin, Gwen's dress fluttering like ash. Then they were gone. Tina's claws scored his chest, her wings beating wildly. "More," she snarled.

He rolled her beneath him, pinning her wrists. The succubi swarmed, their mouths finding every inch of skin. Teeth pricked his thighs; tongues lapped at Tina's thighs. She arched, howling, as another orgasm tore through her.

The ceiling cracked. Dust rained down. Somewhere, the house groaned—alive, insatiable. Jack drove into Tina again. Let it burn. Let it all burn.

Her laughter coiled around him, slick and venomous. Her tongue—forked, sinuous—trailed up his throat. "Number three," she sighed. The air shimmered. A face flickered in the collapsing wallpaper: Gwen’s lips parted mid-scream, then dissolved into the static of forgotten memory. Tina arched beneath him, her wings shredding the headboard. "Gone," she purred, "but oh, the *taste*."

Jack snarled, gripping her hips hard enough to bruise. He didn’t care. Bruises melted now, skin knitting itself over in seconds. The succubi pressed closer, their breath hot on his spine. One licked the sweat from his shoulder—another dragged fangs along his thigh. Tina’s claws raked his chest, drawing blood that evaporated into black mist.

Her pussy clenched, milking him deeper. The bedframe splintered. Somewhere, a chandelier shattered. Jack barely heard it—the roar of his own pulse drowned out everything. Tina’s thighs trembled. Her voice fractured into a dozen echoes as the other succubi moaned with her. "Four," they chorused. The walls bled. A phantom hand—Keith’s, maybe—grasped at the sheets before crumbling to ash.

Jack came with a roar that shook the foundations. Dark seed flooded Tina’s womb, spilling over onto the ruined silk. The succubi shuddered, drinking in the energy. One pressed her mouth to Tina’s, lapping at the overflow. Another sucked Jack’s fingertips clean, her tongue darting between his knuckles.

Tina writhed, her body alight with stolen power. "Again," she demanded, yanking him down by his horns. Her teeth gleamed.

Something tore. A fissure split the ceiling, dripping molten gold. The succubi shrieked in ecstasy, catching droplets on their tongues. One convulsed, her wings snapping wide as she came.

Tina arched, her spine bending impossibly. "They scream so sweetly when they unravel," she moaned. Her claws punctured his thighs, pinning him deeper inside her. The bed collapsed. They barely noticed. The house pulsed around them, walls breathing like a living thing.

A shadow loomed—Farasset's ghost, perhaps, or some older hunger. It watched from the corner as Jack's thrusts grew frantic. Tina's thighs trembled. "Five," she gasped. The chandelier exploded. Glass rained down, slicing their skin—but the wounds sealed instantly, their blood evaporating into crimson mist.

"Burn it all," Tina whispered. "Burn them *all*."

And he did.