Melacetia moaned again. More of the ethereal pink substance fountained up into the air. It floated in the air like globules of oil in water, as if its substance was incompatible with the matter of reality. It coalesced into a single pseudopod bobbing lightly on invisible currents.
Jonny's hand dropped away from his erection and his jaw fell slack.
Melacetia let her buttocks settle back onto the hard concrete floor. Her hips continued to twitch and more and more translucent pink light spilled from her gaping pussy. The ghostly pink pseudopod rose higher into the air like an ectoplasmic snake emerging from a snake charmer's basket. Gracefully, it curled down to slip between the bars of the cage and then flowed up to Jonny like a stream in reverse.
Jonny stood motionless as the blind head of the spectral pseudopod pushed through the railings and bobbed and weaved in the air before him. It looked as insubstantial as light or mist, but Jonny felt something when it nudged against the throbbing red head of his cock—a yielding membrane somewhere between a soap bubble and a balloon.
"It's my spiritual essence," Melacetia said. "Let it enfold you and we'll enjoy a pleasant soul fuck together."
She threw her head back and let out another loud cry of pleasure. Her hips flexed upward and a thick bulge of pink ectoplasm emerged from between her legs. It flowed up the rippling tongue of light in a wave. This time the pseudopod did more than nudge Jonny's cock. It surged forward, engulfing first the glans and then rolling down his shaft until his whole cock was enveloped in the pink glow.
Fuck, that felt nice. Real nice. Warm. Tingly.
Melacetia gave another loud sigh. More of the translucent pink ectoplasm flowed up to Jonny in a series of pulses. Jonny closed his eyes and let his hands fall to his sides as waves of pleasure flowed down his cock. He rocked on the balls of his feet as more and more of airy pink glow spilled out over his crotch. Not liquid, not solid, not gas; the pink ectoplasm ran down his legs and pooled around his ankles.
"Relax. Sit back. Let me pleasure you," Melacetia said.
In the cage, Melacetia pushed up hard with her hips. The force pulsed up the spectral conduit connecting them and broke against Jonny like a physical wave. The push wasn't hard, but it was hard enough to cause him to overbalance backwards. He didn't hit the floor. Instead his fall was broken by what felt like a soft beanbag filled with gel. Her essence. He sank into it and relished the comfort as it moulded to his form and supported his weight. He closed his eyes, sat back and luxuriated in the sensation as more of the warm substance spilled out over his crotch and piled up on his body.
"Comfortable?" a soft voice whispered in his ear.
Jonny opened his eyes. Melacetia was astride him.
No. It looked like her, but its form was made out of the same translucent pink ectoplasm that had enfolded him. It looked like her ghost, illuminated through a pink filter. The ethereal substance trailed back down to her physical form in the cage below.
For all her translucent appearance, Jonny still felt her full lips as they pressed against his. He felt the soft press of her boobs against his chest as she lay on top of him. Most of all, he felt the luxurious friction as his cock moved inside her as her hips rocked up and down on him.
He could even see it. It was mad. He glanced down and saw his cock inside her, embedded within a pink glow. He even saw his foreskin move back and forth as if an invisible hand was tugging up and down.
"Relax. Let me take care of this tension," translucent Melacetia whispered to him.
Jonny did. He closed his eyes and sank back into the soft matter underneath him. He focused on the gentle, tugging sensation as Melacetia's spectral form rose up and down on him. Fucking top, this was.
"They made a mistake," Melacetia whispered in his ear. "The circle is flawed. It holds my physical form, but there are cracks through which I can project my spiritual essence. Enough for me to feed."
Jonny's eyes snapped open. See-through Melacetia stared down at him with a gentle smile. She caressed his forehead with a ghostly hand and ran it through his hair.
"Enough for me to suck the soul from your body," she said.
Alarm shook Jonny from his blissful repose. He kicked out with his hands and feet and got nowhere. The ectoplasm looked like it wasn't truly there, like it was as delicate as gossamer, as insubstantial as mist, but it stuck to him like glue or rubber, stretching with his limbs, allowing them some leeway, but never giving enough to allow him to escape.
Ghostly Melacetia straddled his heaving crotch and looked down at his struggling form. The corner of her full lips turned up in a smile.
"Too late," she said. "Now I have you where I want you."
Jonny looked down at the cage with panic-stricken eyes. Solid Melacetia was frigging herself off again. She thrashed and writhed in the centre of the circle. Her deep red skin glistened with perspiration. The ectoplasmic tube connecting them bobbed up and down with her thrusting hips. Melacetia yowled and cried as her head thrashed from side to side. Less like a woman in ecstasy and more like something wilder—a cat, maybe.
Jonny paused in his own struggles and watched as her knees spread out wide, like she was giving birth. Something was emerging. It was pink like the ectoplasm surrounding him, but much darker—opaque almost—and flecked with livid red veins. Jonny first thought she was turning the moist channel of her pussy inside out. It wasn't that gross. The substance still had an unreal quality to it, even though it looked more solid than the matter he was entangled in. Melacetia puffed it out of her pussy like a series of balloons or smoke rings. Jonny watched as they travelled up the spectral tunnel towards him, throbbing and glistening like dark hearts of corruption.
"You're going to like this," ectoplasmic Melacetia said.
She placed spectral hands on his chest and continued to fuck him with slow, deliberate thrusts of her hips. The dark bulges of pink matter slid up the centre of the glistening pink tube and squeezed through the railings. The first bulge met and merged with the matter making up see-through Melacetia's ass as she met it on the upstroke. She paused, her spectral hips hovering above Jonny's cock while the roiling pink mass filled the space where her pussy was. She looked down at Jonny and pouted her lips like a slutty porn star.
Then she descended. Jonny watched his cock plunge right into the dark pulsing centre of the quivering pink matter.
Fucking the spectral copy of Melacetia had been pleasant enough, but it was kind of dry. Plastic. It was hard to explain. Whacking off to a hot porn star was fine and all, but it would never be the same as driving his unprotected cock right into her juicy wet pussy.
This was driving his unprotected cock right into a juicy wet pussy.
He moaned as his cock was enfolded in a slippery membrane that throbbed and pulsed with dark energy. It was obscenity. It was vulgarity. It was depravity. It was every little guilty, sinful and above all, bad pleasure congealed into physical matter.
It was inside him. He felt it enfold his cock and squeeze and squeeze, shrinking until something gave and it poured into him like a wave of black oil. Wicked pleasure flowed through his bloodstream in a lascivious tide. It felt like a salacious caress roaming over first his body and then sinking through his skin to grope his internal organs with debauched fingers.
"More?" the succubus whispered.
She didn't wait for a reply. Her hips came back down, and Jonny's cock was engulfed in another slithery mass. That too broke against him and flooded his system with another burst of corrupt delights.
"More?" Melacetia giggled.
Jonny moaned incoherently as another cushion of dark energy engulfed and then merged with his throbbing dick. More and more flowed into his body as the spectral succubus rose up and down on him with languid thrusts.
Too much. Too much. He was drowning. His legs straightened and he trembled as dark energy pulsed through his body. He watched it draw black lines under his skin as it slithered through his blood vessels. His mind was overwhelmed by thoughts of vile depravity, of pleasures forbidden. His balls felt swollen and heavy like cannonballs. Gravid and cancerous.
The succubus straddling him laughed. Her spectral form expanded and lost its shape. She fell across him like a heavy quilt. Jonny was engulfed entirely within the translucent ectoplasm. It pulsed around him like the beats of a languid heart.
"Come for me, baby," Melacetia whispered in his ear. "Come out your soul."
He felt her hot body lying on top of him, even though she was merged with the ectoplasm surrounding him. Her hips pumped up and down on him. His cock, swollen and bloated, plunged back and forth into a tight cuff with soft, stretchy walls. His balls tightened and he felt the imminence of release.
"Yes, give it to me," Melacetia breathed into his ear. She sucked on his earlobe with soft lips.
Jonny tensed. Weight pressed down on his groin as the succubus wrapped spectral arms and legs around him and hugged him tight. She teased his cock with skilful squeezes. The tube connecting them pulsed and throbbed, putting Jonny's cock and balls in the grip of an irresistible suction.
Jonny tried to fight it. He muttered prayers to God and Jesus Christ through clenched teeth.
The succubus giggled. "I don't think your JC is coming. You, on the other hand..."
Jonny gasped. His hips jerked violently upward. He came.
It was like no ejaculation he'd felt before. It didn't originate solely in his balls, but felt like it had come from the whole totality of his body. It didn't look like cum he was shooting into her either. It was dark red, almost black. Not blood. Too ethereal—too precious—to be mere blood. Specks of silver and gold glinted like glitter in the dark fluid.
The see-through tube throbbed and pulsed. Her spectral hips and pussy sucked on him like a ravenous maw. He cried out as another savage convulsion whiplashed through his hips and another torrent of dark liquid flecked with gold spouted from his cock. He watched as the tube siphoned it down to the gaping pussy of the demoness in the cage beneath him.
It was him, he realised dimly. She was gulping down him.
Another, even more powerful, paroxysm of pleasure tore through him and smashed his mind asunder. He sank deeper into the soft, smothering essence of the succubus and sighed in empty-headed bliss as she pumped out his soul and drew it down into the gaping void between her legs.
"Mmm, delicious," she murmured, before kissing him lightly on the lips.
* * * *
"Yeah, it's the same as before," Ted Demme said on the phone to Mr Herbert.
He looked down at Harris's partially undressed, still and above all, dead form. The body lay on the floor next to the railings around the pit. There wasn't a mark or anything on the body to indicate how Harris had died. He looked peaceful, relaxed even.
He was also sporting a monster erection. Like someone had injected his dick with Viagra or something.
"We're going through the tapes now," Demme said.
He didn't have much hope they'd find anything. It'd be like the other two times. Harris sitting on the chair or walking around the pit, then nothing but snow and static, then Harris lying dead on the floor with no clue as to what had killed him.
He looked down at the cage. The succubus sat cross-legged in the centre of the circle, seemingly oblivious or uncaring of its surroundings. There was the faint trace of a smile on its lips, as if it was smiling at a secret only it knew.
They said the fat man out in the States had twenty or thirty of them working for him. Demme shivered.