Lewd Futanari Succubus Ch. 58

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Depraved sexual adventures of a futanari Succubus.
4.2k words
4.59
3.6k
8

Part 58 of the 91 part series

Updated 04/18/2024
Created 08/27/2021
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Synopsis: An old man dies, torn by regret. Due to his high karma, he has "near-limitless possibilities for reincarnation". He chooses to reincarnate in a fantasy world as a voluptuous futanari succubus with big tits and an irresistible smile.

Erotic fiction that contains: Futanari/Dickgirls, Genderbending, Futa on Female, BDSM, Nymphos, Masochistic characters, Threesomes, Orgies, Facefuck, Deepthroat, Dom/Sub, Taken by Monsters, Corruption, Game elements, Lots of Depravity, etc.

"FUCK OFF!!" the kind old man screamed at the top of his lungs and with a gesture of his hands launched his giant spiky ball of death at the masked hooded figure that approached him, radiating killing intent.

So, he's human after all, Beatrice concluded when the man let his frustration take over.

The second flight of the death ball proved less successful than the first. The masked girl simply dodged to the side as the weapon zapped past her. The ball crashed into one of the straight walls of the mines, less than fifty feet below one of the lesser platforms on which some hundred spectators stood and observed the fight. The crash was powerful enough for the people standing there to notice minor vibrations.

"Oh no!" the announcer exclaimed as if she was worried. "A miss! It looks like in his fit of impotent rage the niece-fucker missed his one chance to kill--"

Another loud blast of metal against metal spread through the arena when the metal ball scored a direct hit against the masked girl's lower back, sending her flying several feet forward with her back forming an arch around the spot where she was struck.

The ball ricocheted away from the girl, but this time Number Four did not wait for his opponent to recover and with his hands he redirected the spiky ball back at the airborne girl.

BAM! The ball crashed from above, slamming the girl into the ground. Another ricochet, another return. Again and again, Number Four pummeled the girl into the ground. Five, six, seven consecutive strikes into a prone girl, each slower than the last.

Out of juice, Beatrice sighed.

Indeed, the eighth strike was far weaker than any previous ones, the metal ball barely ricocheted higher off the ground than a basketball would off a court. The final fall looked to be guided by gravity more than whatever magical force that controlled the sphere before. After the fall the heavy ball did not even bounce--it simply rolled off the motionless figure to the side as any plain heavy metal ball would.

"Most certainly a commendable effort and an impressive ball control!" the announcer commented with a mix of revived excitement and not-so-subtle patronization. "No doubt that a regular citizen of Klapsus would be pummeled into mush! But has he managed to put an end to miss Ru-NO! No, he hasn't!"

Before Thelicia even finished her sentence, the ball-pounded girl moved her arms. The girl pushed against the ground with both hands and slowly--like someone who had just been knocked down by a direct hit to the head in a game of dodgeball--got back on her feet, looking no worse for wear than possibly suffering from a minor concussion.

"A flying morning star, huh?" Ruby asked as she looked at the weapon that beat her body. "What a strange coincidence! I have something similar to offer!"

Ruby swiftly moved forward her arm and threw her dagger at Number Four. Though surprised, the old man managed to dodge the swift flying dagger just like Ruby dodged his attack. However, while the old man watched his back for an imminent counter-attack, Ruby sprinted to him, ducked, and slammed both open palms of her hands into his chest, blasting the old man high into the air above the arena.

"UNCLE!!" the pale, slender dark magician girl screamed in fear for her uncle's life.

Number Four flew through the flaming numbers that counted down the five minutes of this round, through the ethereal viewing sphere, momentarily disrupting the image, and flew further up until he slammed into the shadowy ceiling high above the arena.

"Ah! I Need to get used to this," Ruby muttered as she looked above and watched the old man's motionless body fall back down.

"Let me see..." Ruby raised her hands, aiming at Number Four's body that already fell back through the viewing sphere and the flaming numbers and--just some thirty feet over her head--managed to slow the man's fall, leaving him hovering in the air up above her.

"Miss Ruby is showing impressive control of levitation powers of her own!" Thelicia said. "But isn't she just levitating a dead body?"

"Only one way to find out," Ruby said and--holding one hand aimed at Number Four--gestured with her other hand to the side. The next second a dagger flew from the side of the arena and pierced the man's knee, forcing an agonizing scream from the reawakened man.

_

Through the old man's screams of pain, as he bled from his destroyed knee which had a curved dagger impaled through it, nobody could hear the soft reaction of the figure that stood directly under the trickle of blood and welcomed it as it fell on her white mask.

"Ah~" the masked girl moaned when droplets of blood finally seeped through the holes in her mask and hit her face.

But even if the girl's moans could not possibly be heard by anyone else through the screams of Number Four and the cheering of the invigorated crowds, the girl's blood-welcoming posture betrayed her intentions, which became apparent to not only Beatrice, Olivia, and many other participants, but also to several people in the crowds.

"Do it again, Ruby!!" one of the beastkin in the crowds laughed.

"You better not let him off easy after all the waiting we had to endure!" some girl shouted.

Ruby could not see the remaining time she had as she stood directly before the fiery countdown, but the announcer was kind enough to inform her.

"After a little more than a minute of resistance, Number Four is already at the mercy of miss Ruby!" Thelicia commented. "What shall she do? Number Four is woefully short of his five-minute survival goal. Will miss Ruby Spare his life anyway for such a commendable all or nothing effort and wait out the time limit?"

"Hell no!!" was the sentiment among the merciless spectators.

"Well, you heard it directly from the fans, miss Ruby, Number Four!" Thelicia passed on the verdict to the duelists, implying that her and everybody else's hands were tied.

Ruby giggled and--suddenly and roughly--guided her dagger out of Number Four's knee, sending a fresh dose of mind-tearing pain into the old man's brain while rewarding herself with a fresh stream of blood pouring down on her body.

"At a loss for words?" Ruby asked as she guided her dagger, flying it up and down past the old man, grazing his body in each pass through, creating narrow but deep cuts. Left shoulder, right forearm, left thigh, left calf. The dagger flew at an ever-increasing speed, delivering more than a cut per second. "Aren't you going to 'fuck off' me again? What about begging for your worthless life?"

Ten cuts. Twenty. Thirty. Another zap of the dagger severed two fingers clean off from the old man's right hand.

"I can save you, remember?" Ruby asked as she continued multiplying the small wounds across her opponent's helpless body. "Just beg for it like a dog!"

"Yeah, sure! Beg and live!"

"What's with those bitch ass pussy cuts!? Cut an artery or two!"

"Yeah, there's barely three minutes left anyway!"

Many among the spectators laughed and cheered them both on--the girl to keep pushing and the old man to beg for his life.

"Not that they want him to be saved," Olivia commented. "Him tearfully agreeing to do anything and beg for his life before getting executed anyway is what they truly hoped for.

Instead of pleading for mercy, the old man reined in his emotions, struggling through the pain. His last defiance: denying both the blood-thirsty girl and her growing fanbase the satisfaction of hearing him cry or beg.

There was one person however who not only wished for the opposite but barely held herself from jumping in and killing the masked bitch. Number Forty's pale fists trembled with rage. Ruby's back was facing her. Even from fifty feet, she could--

"Don't," said a girl with long, gory red hair when she put her hand on Number Forty's clenched fist. "She's obviously baiting you in."

"Fuck off!" Number Forty shook off Number Fifty's hand. "You think I don't know that?"

The announcer chuckled and said, "Looks like Number Four's niece abandoned him! That's what you get for leaving a girl unsatisfied. She already went and found someone better! Let this be a lesson to you, folks!"

The spectators laughed while Ruby intensified her attacks, increasing their depth, striking closer and closer to vital organs, pouring more warm blood on herself.

"Scum!" Olivia cursed. "If that girl intervenes, the announcer will instantly refer to the rules of a one-on-one duel and the girl will be killed. If she does nothing, 'she's a coward and a traitor'."

"You're probably right," Beatrice said quietly and looked for Bob among his masked companions.

Though many of the shirtless men had a similar figure, Bob's kilt was far more wrinkled than any of the others after his adventures with Beatrice and her friends. Their eyes locked and Bob barely shook his head, urging Beatrice not to intervene, confirming Olivia's theory.

_

"With two minutes still to go, will Number Four be able to endure miss Ruby's assault?" Thelicia asked. "Abandoned by his niece whom he could not properly satisfy, with the crowds rooting against him, what chance does he have? Each strike of the dagger could be his last!"

With the ever-increasing speed of Ruby's dagger that toyed with the floating figure as a kid would toy with a butterfly, the wounds on Number Four's body grew uncountable. Though Ruby's dagger strikes cut up the man's shirt and left enough space for blood to flow, too much of it was absorbed by the brown cloth that turned moist and darkened.

Perhaps because of that, the next dagger strike cut from the old man's neck and along his spine all the way to his butt, tearing the shirt in half. The next few cuts finished the job and the old man's ripped shirt finally fell from his mutilated body, revealing a sickening, ghastly sight.

Blood bubbled and seeped through dozens upon dozens of shallow and deep cuts. Most of his abused skin was now varying shades of pink and red with countless open wounds that were given no chance to close by sudden, fresh crosscuts that opened them further. The hairs of the old man's muscular aging chest turned red while Ruby kept increasing the severity of his injuries.

Beatrice turned away, already sick from such senseless, self-indulgent torture.

Number Four steeled his resolve and resisted giving any emotion to the crowds, but Ruby had long stopped pressing the issue. With the shower of blood increasing in thickness and amount, the no-longer-white-masked girl was so preoccupied with covering herself with blood that she no longer seemed to care or outright forgot to further verbally terrorize the man, leaving that work to the announcer.

"How boring!"

"Stop toying around!"

"Finish him already!"

"Don't let the time run out!"

"Yeah, I don't want to see his wrinkly ass in the next round!"

"He wouldn't live to the next round anyway."

"Indeed, it seems that Number Four has resigned to his fate," Thelicia said with boredom. "Subjecting our dear guests to this pathetic display for any longer would be a crime."

Whether Ruby paid any attention was questionable. However, her attacks now pierced through the old man's flesh and muscles, unleashing streams of blood from the gaping wounds.

"YOU PROMISED!!" Number Forty, the old man's niece, screamed as loud as she could. "You're going to just die like that without fighting back!? You're going to die a liar!?"

Ruby momentarily halted her dagger attacks and turned her head to the girl. But Number Forty did nothing else.

"Disappointing," Ruby said and looked back up to the bleeding, cut-up Number Four before launching her dagger straight through his kidney. "Both of you!"

First dagger strike flew up, through the old man's body, tearing up his insides, and creating a gaping hole in his body. The second strike followed a second later, flying down, piercing through a lung, breaking several ribs in the process, and causing massive internal bleeding.

"Ghurlkh!" Number Four coughed up dark blood, helpless to prevent the attacks.

Ruby paused before the final strike. With one hand, she turned the old man in the air so that his side faced her, his neck--directly over her. With the other hand, Ruby repositioned the dagger, aiming it for the old man's throat.

Ah! Being one of the few that no longer watched the sickening show that unfolded in the arena, Beatrice saw a familiar object stir on the edge of the arena. The giant metal ball of death shook back and forth for a few seconds while its master regained control and then it launched off the ground at the same 'blink and you miss it' speed that it possessed in the very first strike against Ruby.

However, the metal ball flew way off course. Not even close to where Ruby stood. Rising higher and higher off the ground, at its current trajectory the ball posed no threat to anyone in the arena. Less than a second passed since the ball of death launched off the ground, Beatrice's mind barely had the time to register and comprehend the only other obvious target Number Four's weapon had, when it already was hurling to the high solitary platform, directly at the announcer's masked head.

"Ah?--" the announcer's surprised yelp echoed through the arena just before three walls of flames engulfed the narrow space between her and her metal doom. The ball flew into the flames and was instantly disintegrated. Only metal dust passed through the burning flames on the other side, flying at high-speed right at the announcer.

By the time the little hairball instinctively covered her head from the particles that flew at her, it already flew past her, some of it getting through the holes in her mask.

"KYAAARGH!!" the announcer cried out in a high-pitched voice of pain. She reached to her mask to get rid of the dust, fumbled, tripped on her own hair, and fell over. She rolled and screamed and cried on the floor of her platform.

"AAAAARGHHH! Fucking piece of decaying fucking shit! FUCK! AAH! SHIT! Useless eunuch fucks! Fucking spoiled bloody psycho shitter cunt! Fuck!" the announcer's cursing, struggling, and crying were aired live through the mines thanks to her enhanced voice.

The spectators were left momentarily speechless. Shocked, concerned, confused.

The first to react, or rather, the one who was not disturbed by this in the slightest, Ruby slowly lowered Number Four from his floating position until he however a food off the ground. The man was barely breathing, barely holding his eyes half-open, but he was alive.

"Well played," Ruby said. "Go say goodbye to your girl while you can."

Ruby then moved her arm, rapidly flying the man's bleeding body to Number Forty, leaving a trail of blood behind him. With another motion, Ruby stopped the old man right in front of his niece's face.

"U-Uncle..." the pale girl stuttered as she wept at the sight before her. The man she knew. His kind features were scarred, bruised, bloodied, and swollen. Barely recognizable.

"Li... Lilith-GHRULKH--" a bloodied metal blade burst through the old man's gaping mouth, sending a spray of spit and blood all over the girl's wide-eyed face.

Ruby's dagger pierced the old man's neck from behind, severing the spinal cord. His body went limp, hovering lifelessly in the air right in front of his horrified little niece. The fiery numbers above the arena counted the remaining seconds down to zero.

_

With the old man finally dead, his blood-drenched opponent let go of her hold over his mutilated body.

"U-uncle!" the pale dark magician girl jumped to her dear father figure, catching him just before his lifeless body slammed against the hard rock surface.

And although this sudden and swift end to the duel momentarily distracted the crowds from previous events, the announcer's crying, cursing, screeching voice quickly reminded them of what had happened a moment before.

The scrawny old shirtless man put his hand to his face as if using an earpiece, looked up to the platform high above the arena, and called out to the announcer, "Felicia!"

"Where the fuck are you!?" the hurting hairball screamed, her echoing voice spreading far and wide. "Why the hell aren't you here already!? ARGH! What the fuck are you doing!? What were you doing!? This is all your fault!!"

"Felicia--"

"SHUT YOUR EUNUCH MOUTH AND GET YOUR WRINKLED ASS OVER HERE!!" the announcer's voice thundered through the mines. "Bring Carl with you and fucking heal my eyes already!! It hurts! It fucking bloody hurts!!"

"Your amplifier!" John shouted into the palm of his hand, trying to get through to the announcer.

"ARGH! I told you-Oh, fu--"

The announcer's echoing voice suddenly cut off completely, leaving the mines awkwardly silent once again. The silence lasted only for a couple of seconds. The citizens of Klapsus turned to each other to try to understand what the hell had happened, overrunning the momentary silence with speculation and gossip.

"Carl, with me!" John commanded, turning to his men. "Bob, continue the games!"

"Yes, sir!" Bob rushed to the tables, not daring to disobey the one in command, while Carl--similarly muscular like Bob, but wet and sweaty ran to John.

Carl stood next to John, the skeleton-like man chanted a spell and they were both engulfed in a flaming tornado. None of the other masked men reacted to the sudden flames in the slightest. The flames dissipated nearly as quickly as they appeared, but the two men within them were no longer there. Not even two guesses (for those that paid attention) were required to figure out where the two men disappeared to. Indeed, the announcer's platform grew brighter for a couple of seconds, before darkening again.

So that 'John' guy has teleporting magic, Beatrice noted. Carl does not. He's one of the healers. The only one? How many others are capable of teleportation? There has to be a backup in case this John is incapacitated.

"Has anything like this ever happened?" Beatrice asked Olivia.

"I've only been here for a couple of times," Olivia said. "There are stories of some fools attempting to run or lash at the staff in desperation. Drunkards falling to their deaths or killing one another for some stupid reasons... But I've never heard of someone hurting any of the event organizers."

You'd think they'd have more to spare in case someone got caught in a crossfire, Beatrice thought. But the audible agitated murmurs in the crowds suggested this was unprecedented.

Meanwhile, Bob quickly got to the table, put his hand into the small barrel with participant numbers, and pulled out another wooden ball. With no commentary coming from the announcer, Bob unscrewed the wooden ball and pulled from within a paper. Bob put the ball shells on the battle and lifted up the paper in both hands, stretching it straight above his head, turning from side to side to display the clearly written number on the parchment to as many people as possible. Seventeen. The sphere above the arena also showed the number in greatly magnified detail.

Beatrice looked at the other participants, searching for the one with such a number. The succubus hardly remembered any of her competition of the top of her head and no wonder! As soon as the previous round's battles were over the victors were surrounded by flames. And though they might have been designed to protect the victors, or to prevent them from wounding any of their competition, they also deprived the victors of any valuable information, save for the colorful commentary of the announcer.

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