New Life As A Lewd Futanari Succubus

More enforcers rushed in to try and save their cumming acquaintances. “Friends” would be really pushing it. Between different kinks, nasty hazings and backstabbing politics—

Wait, why am I trying to save that lying bastard? One such enforcer wondered, remembering how the bastard who currently continued pumping his semen into a hungry tentacle cost him his promotion. So, instead of rushing in to fight the tentacle demon, he started backing away from all the fighting, looking to exist this nightmare while he still had the chance. But his chances had run out: a demonling ambushed the retreating enforcer from the shadows and tore him to pieces, adding to the pile of casualties.

The enforcers and eunuchs that dared face the tentacle demon fared no better. The demonlings switched tactics and showed modest coordination. A portion of their considerable force consolidated their numbers around the tentacle demon and fought back the attackers, blocking the strikes against the tentacles with their bodies if they had to.

And those that came close enough for a damaging strike quickly lost their strength and will to fight. They retreated, but for some it was already too late—too much of the purple airborne substance had made its way into their bodies through their mouths, nostrils, even ears. Their cocks ached, their clits tingled, their strength faded.

“Stay away from the mist!” Beatrice shouted, trying to warn those that still had the capacity to fight.

And, as more and more men and women fell prey to their untimely desires, several enforcers took Beatrice’s advice to its logical conclusion.

“RUN!!” they screamed as they ran toward the nearest paths off the round arena platform.

That was when they ran into the second portion of the demonling forces, that took positions at the exists. The demonlings cut off all the exists off the arena, effectively surrounding the remaining survivors as the tentacle demon advanced toward the center of the arena, picking up more and more increasingly willing hostages along the way.

“Goddess!!” Bob called out to his idolized figure of grace, power, and wisdom. He ran to Beatrice, carrying the giant Bone Breaker that had black ooze smeared across the steel spiked balls. Bob was followed by several buff, shirtless, kilt wearing eunuchs.

What? It did not even occur to Beatrice to think of such trivial matters, but she remembered now. Oh right... The hour the cum spores lasted for an hour. Beatrice realized that she now too had only one cock barely hidden under her tiny skirt.

At that same time the tentacle demon that hoisted up one of the eunuchs used its tentacles to feel up the cockless man under his kilt. But despite the buff man’s arousal, despite his wish to fuck a pussy, to cum loud and hard, he had no dick to thrust, no cum to offer. The demon threw the man away like useless trash, freeing up its tentacles for more suitable offerings.

“Do not worry,” Beatrice tried to remain calm in an increasingly dire situation and not lash out against her poor followers for worrying about cocks when they could all die at any seconds. “The magic was temporary, but I can bring them back once this is over.”

“More importantly, our magic isn’t working against these demons!!” Bob had more serious worries. He breathed heavily, sweaty and weary, he was looking for guidance from his goddess in these dire times. “Please tell us what we can do!”

What indeed… Beatrice wished she knew. Retreat blocked, melee attacks seemingly impossible. Break through?

“Don’t you have some ranged weapons in your arsenal?” Beatrice asked Bob, feeling her already limited combat options grow ever more inadequate for such a situation. “Melee weapons are good against the demonlings, but we need some ranged nukes to take down that demon!”

“N-nukes?” one of the enforcers asked.

“Something hard hitting!” Beatrice “A powerful attack from a distance!”

“There was that crossbow somewhere…” one of the enforcers muttered, but everyone realized that a second-rate crossbow would be woefully inadequate for such a situation.

“I’m sorry,” Bob said. “The spectators rarely liked sneaky fights from a distance, preferring bloody, down and dirty brawls. So, over time ranged weapons were one after another removed from the arsenal.”

Meanwhile, another group of the demonlings formed a harassment party. Rather than killing the survivors, the demonlings now switched their attacks and used their range and ferocity to drive the men and women closer to the purple mist that the tentacle demon secreted, providing more offerings to the lewdness feeder.

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