>>5641978Bit late>>5641994“What have you… Become?!” you groan.
To your left, Halle has begun to pant, and wrapped her arms around her midsection, whining and hissing.
“In heat?” she gasps in the True Speech. “Impossible, my season is not yet upon me!”
“It’s always time here, sweetie,” Irinnile cackles.
The demon snaps her fingers and the haze and pressure seem to let up a little, the hyperreality of the scene revealing a much more mundane—but still bloody—scene of carnality, and a less darkly divine Irinnile. Your <affliction> calms, and you catch your breath more readily. Halle, the poor Silkscale, falls to the floor, shaking and shaken.
“You have grown—”
“Powerful? Godlike? IRRRRI-sistible?” the demon gushes.
“—fat, on the mana of your thralls.”
Irinnile pouts, and pokes at her belly.
“Some peeps are inta’ that. Lotsa’ peeps. Any peeps I say are, nowadays.”
“It must cost you greatly to maintain that shape, that aura of power and influence, and to dominate so many,” you note.
“Well, your little scheme set me up nice,” she admits. Bein’ surrounded by my followers all eyein’ me up an’ cumming BUCKETS for me is helpful, too. An if I REALLY overdo it, I just eat someone up, all nomnomnomnomNOM, ya’ know?”
She giggles. It echoes and reverberates in unearthly ways which set your soul ill -at-ease.
“And anyway, it’s WAAAY easier now that I’m not, like, pers’nally babysitting Ricky all day erry day, ya’ know?”
That raises an alarm, and you naturally question the succubus as to what she means by that statement.
“What I MEAN, baby, is this is AALLL Hot Aunt Iri!” she says, seizing handfuls of her breasts and squeezing.
“And the Green Knight?” you demand. “Where is he?”
“Ooooh, don’t you go worrying that pretty little head, Big Boy,” she says, patting and pinching your cheek in what you take for some condescending form of affection. “I can bring him out ta’ play when we need him. Just the rest of the time I, like, store him in the dungeon.”
You stare.
“The SEX dungeon,” she adds, unnecessarily. “Where I fuck ‘im.”
