tagErotic HorrorHookah'ed



Koontz was a useless decadent fat fuck, Bachman decided as he slipped out of his room in the dark hours of the morning. How the greasy slab of lard had ever gained control over the west side was a mystery to him.

Well it wouldn't be a mystery for long, Bachman thought as he checked the corridor outside.

It was empty. Bachman wasn't surprised. Security was a joke. He hadn't seen a guard since he'd left his car and been shown into the building. At the door he'd been greeted by Koontz personally. It had taken nearly all of Bachman's composure not to laugh out loud. Koontz was short, pudgy and had the pasty complexion of someone who hadn't been on speaking terms with the sun for years. Even though it was evening he was wearing shades with glittery gold frames and nothing else other than red silk pajamas. He looked like the bastard offspring of Hugh Heffner and Ozzy Osbourne. The image was completed by the two Penthouse Pet wannabes dangling off either arm.

This was the man that supposedly controlled the whole of the west side?

For a man in his position Koontz was either supremely confidant or insanely blasé. Every person Bachman had encountered in the business had no illusions about what needed to be done to stay in the business. When you met them on their turf you could guarantee there'd be a guy round every corner with a gun tucked in their jacket. These were dangerous times with a lot of desperate punks willing to go to extreme measures to make a name for themselves.

While other bosses had turned their homes into fortresses Koontz had turned his into the Playboy mansion. Instead of guards the place was full of 'ho's. Sure they looked hot, Bachman thought as they'd brought him drinks during the lavish dinner, just like they'd stepped off a Vegas stage, but he doubted they'd be much use should any of Koontz's guests suddenly break out an uzi and start spraying.

Not that Bachman was complaining too much. It made his job a lot easier.

Carlito Estevez had hired Bachman because the boss was in a slight bit of trouble. One of his underlings had fucked up and allowed sensitive information to fall into the wrong hands. Things were about to get very hot for Estevez and the boss had decided he needed some leverage.

It was common knowledge that Koontz had dirt on just about everyone. Estevez needed that dirt so he could persuade some of the corrupt bastards in city hall to call off the attack dogs. Koontz claimed he didn't have it. Estevez didn't believe him and had called in Bachman to take it.

Loud grunts and sighs came from behind the last door on the corridor. One of Koontz's guests was taking advantage of the hospitality.

The same hospitality had been offered Bachman, but he'd turned it down. The girl was hot but he was here on business.

Koontz threw regular events like these for well-connected guys in the organisations. A gesture to keep everything smooth as he described it. It had been easy enough for Carlito to slip Bachman on the guest list as the new guy in town.

Bachman had been incredulous that it had been that simple, but now, walking around a pleasure palace with what appeared to be zero security, the surprise had worn off. Koontz must have rotted his brain with too much coke. Maybe he really believed that everybody get along peace crap. The hippy godfather.

The private chambers were even more sumptuous than the rest of the mansion. Koontz was a man who'd indulged expensive tastes in fine arts. Well he probably called it fine arts. The sculptures and paintings of naked chicks Bachman had seen only provided further proof to him that pornography was the second oldest profession.

The stuff Koontz kept to himself was way more of the mondo bizarro type. In one of the rooms a wall was taken up with a painting showing three freaky demon chicks laying into some Jesus clone with whips. The artist had some serious repression issues as far as Bachman could tell. A damn fine idea of the female body though, even if he'd kind of spoiled it with the horns and bat wings.


Ozzy Osbourne meets Hugh Hefner as Bachman had originally thought. Maybe Koontz got his jollies dressing up in robes and playing at being cult leader with his harem of 'ho's.

Apparently Koontz kept most of his files scattered around the house for convenient access. The information Bachman was after was supposedly in a small safe hidden in one of the private bedrooms.

Unfortunately the room was occupied.

The description Bachman had been given seemed accurate enough. The room looked like something out of the Arabian Nights. Silks were suspended from the ceiling and walls to make the room look like a tent and soft cushions were scattered everywhere. A soft orange light bathed everything in a warm glow. The safe was supposedly disguised as a gold chest and bolted to the floor.

Bachman saw it in the far corner and was advancing into the room when a bubbling noise suddenly made him freeze. It was the kind of sound you might hear from a water cooler after getting a drink.

Just around the door was a giant, highly ornate hookah. It sat on a low table on three golden legs. Lounging on cushions on either side of it and holding a pipe each were two naked girls.

Sloppy, Bachman cursed. The lack of security had made him too casual.

There was no response though. The girls didn't cry out or even acknowledge he was in the room.

Was this his lucky night?

Cautiously Bachman walked towards them. Still no response.

They were asleep. No, more than asleep, stoned. Completely and utterly stoned out of their minds. Whatever was in their giant bong, it was some pretty potent stuff.

Bachman's tenseness evaporated. He almost laughed.

There was a strong musky odour in the air, like an exotic perfume although Bachman didn't recognise the brand. He wondered if it was the remnants of whatever the girls had been toking on. It tickled the nostrils and Bachman was surprised to find he felt quite aroused.

That was probably the naked girls though. They really were stunning, with long lithe legs, smooth dusky skin and ripe full breasts. The girl on the left was a golden blonde while the other had jet-black hair that cascaded around her shoulders in tight ringlets. They were naked apart from some delicate golden chains around their necks, wrists and ankles. The heady aroma filling the air around Bachman coupled with the sight of their perfectly shaven pussies did fill his mind with a few less than pure thoughts.

They were completely unconscious and helpless before him.

Business before pleasure, Bachman thought.

He was about to turn towards the chest when he noticed a small key hanging from one of the chains around the raven-haired girl's neck.

Surely not, Bachman thought, turning to glance back at the chest. It was all too easy.

He bent over the girl to examine it further and tried not to think about planting a kiss on her pouting full red lips. Slowly he reached towards the soft chasm between her breasts to carefully lift the small golden key.

The girl's empty eyes suddenly flickered into life and locked on Bachman. Her full lips twisted up into a smile and then pouted suggestively as she blew a cloud of smoke into Bachman's face.

Bachman was too stunned to react as the smoke twined into his nostrils. His senses were flooded with a spicy sweet aroma, the same traces of the perfume he'd picked up earlier, but many times stronger. All of a sudden his head felt a little warm and fuzzy, like it was wrapped in cotton wool, and his sense of balance deserted him. He found himself falling forwards onto the deep pile of soft cushions and couldn't prevent himself.

He felt weird, like he knew it was his body, could feel it was his body, but the commands from his brain to move his arms were just not going anywhere. He still felt like thick smoke was wreathing his face as the girl turned him over with a hungry gleam in her eyes and tore at his clothes until his naked flesh was exposed to the perfumed air.

"Mmm, I think this one will be delicious don't you," the black-haired girl purred as she sat on Bachman's chest and slid forward until her pussy was almost touching his chin.

The fog was slowly clearing from Bachman's mind. He numbly realised he was lying naked on some soft cushions and there was a gorgeous girl with a dripping wet pussy practically sitting on his face. His befuddled brain was still trying to process that this might not be a good thing when she lifted her crotch up and began to grind it into his face.

"Pump him up so he's nice and juicy," a soft voice tinkled. Must be the blonde.

The brunette laughed, put the hookah pipe in her mouth and took a deep pull. Bachman's nose was pushed between her soft pussy lips and he smelt her sickly sweet juices. She raised her crotch and before Bachman's startled eyes her labia seemed to puff up and then spread wide, way wider than should be humanly possible. Her cunt descended and covered his mouth and nostrils like a mask.

He was too surprised to take a breath and then realised he couldn't. Her thighs gripped the side of his head tight and his mouth and nose were smothered deep within her flesh.

He tried to thrash his body to escape but the fog in his brain was still stopping the signals from going through. He felt weak and couldn't get any leverage in the soft cushions. He tried again to draw breath and couldn't.

The bitch was suffocating him with her damn cunt.

He looked up past the weighty breasts dangling over him as she put the hookah pipe into her mouth and took a long pull. Her chest expanded as she drew the smoke into her lungs and held it there. Beneath her Bachman struggled to take a breath, his lungs were burning and black spots were dancing across his eyes.

Then, just as Bachman was on the verge of losing consciousness, he felt the weight relieve slightly as she lifted up a little above him. His body took the cue and his mouth opened to suck in a lungful of life-giving air. But, just as his lungs expanded to take breath, she sat down and smothered him once again. At the same moment she exhaled, or seemed to, except no air passed out through her nose or mouth. Instead Bachman's mouth and airwaves were flooded with a thick cloying perfume. She lifted her body up off him and her pussy pumped more billowing pink smoke into his face.

"Mmm, breathe it in, breathe it in deep."

Bachman had no choice; he was starved for any breath. The smoke was thick and musky and cloying, like trying to inhale spiced honey. It settled into his lungs and from there he felt a warmth spread out into his bloodstream. It seeped through his body and settled with a tickling sensation in his balls. They started to feel tight and a little itchy.

The girl sat back down on Bachman's face and took another deep pull on the hookah. Again he felt her chest swell above him as she took in the smoke, again he felt her breathe out and again the thick cloying perfume was pumped out through her pussy and into his lungs. The warmth spread throughout his body, but concentrated mainly in his groin where he felt an erection rise and throb.

"I think you're getting nice and ripe," the girl said teasingly as she ran a soft hand along the twitching flesh of his member.

She got up and sat behind him. His head was cradled in her lap and her legs reached over his shoulders to hold him down. She took long pulls from the hookah and pink smoke billowed up from her pussy, wreathing around Bachman's head and sending out tendrils to toy with his nostrils.

Through the haze he saw the blonde standing astride him. She held another hookah pipe in her hand but instead of putting it into her mouth she fixed Bachman with a sultry glance before inserting the pipe into her vagina. Her body tensed and he heard the hookah bubble furiously as a powerful suction seemed to grip the pipe. Her labia puffed up into soft cushions and as she pulled the pipe out a small puff of pink smoke escaped.

"Mmm, now it's your turn," she said.

The lips were pumped up way fuller than any human girl's could ever be and warm juices dripped onto Bachman's twitching cock. She sat down until the oozing tip of Bachman's penis rested between her swollen lips. She held herself there for a long, teasing moment.

"I'm going to suck your cock deep into my pussy and pump your balls dry."

She sat down hard. Bachman gasped as his cock was drawn within and squeezed by the engorged walls of her vagina. The sensation was exquisite. Her walls so soft, warm and tight. So tight. Bachman was experienced enough to normally be able delay the final moment, but as soon as he was engulfed within her fleshy vice the shock of pleasure was too much and he exploded with orgasm like a nervous teenager losing their virginity.

It had to be the freaky fumes the other girl had tried to suffocate him with. Must be a drug of some sort.

No, something wasn't right here. The fog was clearing enough from Bachman's mind to realise the situation was very wrong.

"Hmm, yummy, more please," the blonde purred, licking her full red lips.

She pressed her knees against his sides, gripping him tight as she straddled him. Her vagina was so heavenly soft against his cock, but beneath the softness he could feel powerful muscles at work. They contracted around his cock and ran up its length in a wave of tender sucking motion. Even after just orgasming his erection showed no signs of softening and incredibly it felt like...

... Ah... a second orgasm wracked his body, stronger even than the first. His balls tightened as he pumped another load of cum deep into her writhing pussy. No, she was pumping the cum from him not him into her. Her vagina tightened and the sucking sensation grew stronger. He could feel the suction right through his cock and deep within his balls. His cock had never felt such pleasure, but an ache had started in his balls. She really was pumping his balls dry.

"Ah, more, more," the blonde moaned.

What the hell were they?

"We're succubi," the dark-haired girl said, "demons that suck the life out of men. Mr Koontz, our master, obtained us as a gift. As well as giving him pleasure we also serve him in other ways. Amongst those duties is security and that includes little nuisances like yourself. That tingling sensation you can feel in your balls..."

Bachman felt it. A tingling itch that was both pleasurable and bothersome at the same time. On top of him the blonde had slowly started to move up and down. The muscular contractions pulling at his cock became slower, deeper.

"...that's the drug I've been pumping into your lungs. All of your body's resources are being diverted into sperm production and she's going to suck it all out of you. I'm going to feed you to her orgasm by orgasm."

A deep soft stroke and Bachman fired another load of cum into her hungry vagina. The tingly ache was spreading from his groin and into his lower abdomen.

Above him the blonde moaned in pleasure.

Dimly, Bachman knew he had to throw her off, that she was killing him. His brain still felt shrouded in fog. Feebly he tried to move his arms.

"Relax", the dark-haired succubus continued. "There are worse ways to go in this line of work. Now breathe..."

She got up and sat back down on his face, her pussy once again covering his mouth and nose in an air-tight mask. He tried to thrash his head out of the way but her thighs gripped him tight, holding him in place. He felt her take another deep pull on the hookah, drawing the smoke within her. He tried to hold his breath. Must keep the perfume (no poison, that's what it was, poison) out of his lungs.

It was no use, his oxygen starved lungs betrayed him and when he went to draw breath he felt her exhale above him and his lungs were once again flooded with the cloying fumes. His brain was disconnected on its own little cloud as he dimly felt a comfortable tingling warmth spread throughout his body, as if the smoke was inundating every pore of his being. He had a brief moment of floating bliss before the other girl's vagina gripped his cock in a long rolling contraction that sucked yet another orgasm from him.

They had him caught in a cycle of exquisite pleasure. He was a conduit between the two girls. The first would pump him full of warm comfort and then the second would suck it out of him, taking a little piece of him with it and leaving him a little colder each time.

Pump. Suck.

Bachman was now past caring, caught in their rhythm of exhalation and inhalation as one succubus fed him to the other. The tingling ache had spread across all of his body now. He could feel his skin start to tighten over his chest and his internal organs start to crinkle and crumple up as his traitorous balls pumped all his juices into the demon's hungry vagina.

Pump. Suck.

It took the succubus a few hours to drain Bachman totally. They liked to take the time to truly savour their meals.


"Where was it?"

"Out back. Someone left it for us to find."

"It's a message from Mr Koontz. He's reminding us of the consequences of taking him too lightly."

"I don't know what freaks me out more. The fact they turn up all shrivelled like dried raisins, or that they always have that damn smile on their face."

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