Russian Exorcism

I squinted, looking at the setting sun. I had arrived early; there was still half an hour until sunset. I lit a cigarette and began observing the pedestrians scurrying along the street. Nothing unusual—people rushing about their business, chatting on the phone, sometimes bumping into each other while staring at their smartphones. I furrowed my brow, recalling a cumbersome incantation, and uttered:

— etiam sic caecus videre visus est videre

is being cleaned.

— est carmen

— Hello, brothers.

— Greetings, — replied the Shepherd, and Fyodor nodded.

— It's getting dark already, shall we begin? — I asked.

The Shepherd pondered, occasionally glancing at the sky and muttering to himself. Finally, he fixed me with a piercing gaze and said:

— Yes, we can. Fyodor, start searching.

The giant nodded and, folding his hands in a prayerful gesture, closed his eyes. Suddenly, the hair on his head stirred as if from a gust of wind and stood on end. I glanced enviously at Fyodor's hair floating in the air. It looked like intuitive magic—lucky guy, doesn't have to memorize incantations or accumulate mana. After a couple of minutes, he opened his eyes and quietly said:

— Two to the south, near the park, and one to the east, in the Old District.

— I'll go alone; you two take the park, — the Shepherd quickly said, turning and heading toward the bus stop.

— Shall we take a taxi or walk? — I asked Fyodor.

— A taxi, but I don't have any money, — he grumbled.

After getting out of the taxi, Fyodor waved his hand in a direction, indicating the approximate location, and strode toward the park entrance. The direction was fine, but I could spend all night prowling here, looking for the unclean. I didn't want to use the True Sight spell—my eyes were still irritated. Maybe I should try the new spell, recently reworked from an ancient artifact's instructions. I took out a cigarette, lit it, and, releasing a thin stream of smoke, uttered:

— Ariadne filum, specificare viam

The cigarette smoke froze for a moment, quivered, and, twisting slightly, hung in the air like a pale thread.

— Seek the nearest unclean in that direction, — I said, pointing with my finger. The smoke stretched forward and veered slightly to the left. I walked, guided by its deviations, turning into deserted alleys, then emerging onto spacious streets. Finally, leading me to a 24-hour store, the smoke coiled into a spiral and dissolved into the air. Here were the ones I needed. Near the store entrance stood three guys and a girl. The guys were completely ordinary, but the girl stood out sharply. Long, light hair, a flawlessly defined face, huge, high-set breasts, and athletically rounded buttocks. She laughed constantly, touching one guy, then another, winking, playfully running her fingers through her hair. The enchanted guys were practically hanging on her every word. Even a novice exorcist would say immediately—a succubus, and a young and inexperienced one at that. Skilled succubi use inconspicuous appearances, adapting to their victims during the hunt. But she had turned into a sex symbol and was seducing three at once. There had been cases where even two people, driven by induced passion, literally tore a succubus apart. Most likely, this was her first or second hunt.

I smirked, anticipating an easy exorcism and dinner at an Italian restaurant. The store doors slid open smoothly, releasing three women. Their laughing faces turned into threatening grimaces as soon as they saw the girl. Succubi have an excellent sense of smell and can easily determine if a victim has a partner. Such a blunder meant this was her very first time in the world of the living. Meanwhile, the women had already started arguing with the succubus, while their guys exchanged bewildered glances, not understanding what was happening. Seemed like time to intervene. Walking quickly up to the group, I grabbed the succubus by the arm and politely said:

— Sorry about my girlfriend; seems she's had a bit too much.

The women's faces softened a little, and one replied threateningly:

— Man, keep a better eye on your chick, or she'll get completely out of hand.

I smiled and, without answering, dragged the succubus toward a rather grim-looking alley. Not understanding, she hung onto me, pressing her impressive bust against me, and asked:

— Where are we going, sweetie?

— We're going to the second circle, dear, — I said and looked at the succubus expectantly. Hearing my words, she jerked sharply, trying to break free. But I held on tightly, and despite her desperate struggle, a minute later we were in a dark alley. I threw her against the wall and, extending my right hand, uttered:

— Verum ostende faciem tuam.

As soon as the last sound faded, a gust of wind tore from my hand, slammed into the succubus, and pinned her to the wall. The wind mercilessly tore at her, and the succubus's figure began to blur, becoming indistinct and flickering. After a few seconds, she appeared in her true form. Long, black hair streamed down her back, flowing between rudimentary, leathery wings. Purple skin covered her body, lightening slightly around the thighs and groin and becoming very dark at the tip of her tail. The most notable part of her body were her legs, ending in faintly glowing hooves.

The succubus, leaning against the wall, breathed heavily, shocked by the forced exit from her glamour. I simply stood, waiting to see what she would do. Finally, the succubus straightened up and hissed viciously:

— I'll drain you dry, mortal.

— Vociferabor serpens regis.

With my hands, I spread her buttocks, exposing two holes. From this movement, her vagina opened slightly, and a bit of lubricant leaked out. With two fingers, I stretched the entrance to her vagina, a tender pink inside, just like a human's. I spread my fingers wider, so the walls of her vagina were clearly visible. They consisted of many folds, glistening wetly with mucus. The main difference between a succubus's vagina and a human's is the circular arrangement of muscles, providing strong compression along its entire length. I pressed the head against the entrance and pushed. Thanks to the abundant lubricant already dripping down the succubus's thighs, my cock slid in easily.

The succubus, noticing nothing, moaned softly when my cock entered her especially deeply. The unclean one's anus was surprisingly pliant, and my finger sank completely into her ass. Letting go of her tail, I began pushing a finger from my other hand. It entered with great difficulty into the still-virgin ass of the succubus. Feeling something persistently trying to penetrate her from behind, she raised herself slightly and spread her buttocks as wide as possible with both hands. The finger began slowly entering the ring of her anus, stretching it severely. When it was fully inside, I cupped her buttocks with my palms and began kneading her anus, spreading my fingers apart. It was as if I were turning her ass inside out, exposing the walls of her rectum. From these manipulations, a wave of muscle contractions rolled through the succubus's vagina, squeezing my cock tightly. Even more lubricant began to secrete, starting to hang in viscous threads from her vagina. Continuing to stimulate her anus, I sped up, trying to bring the succubus to orgasm. After a minute of this frenzied pace, I felt I was about to cum. Damn, looks like I'll have to use magic.

I stopped, pushed my cock in as deep as possible, and uttered:

— In regno libido duplum.

A warm wave rolled through my body and concentrated in my groin. My cock began to pulsate and grow, expanding inside the succubus's vagina. I felt her vagina slowly being stretched from within by the swelling cock. She began to twitch, trying to adjust to the size. However, the main surprise was yet to come. After finishing expanding, the cock began to increase in length. Overcoming the resistance of the vagina, the head approached the entrance to the uterus. Normally, a cock cannot penetrate it, but exorcist tattoos work wonders. The cock began slowly entering; the head squeezed with difficulty through the cervix. Once inside, the cock grew a bit more and then stopped. I slowly moved forward, and the succubus's belly bulged outward, pushed from within by the huge cock. Now back and forward with a powerful thrust. The succubus weakly squealed as she was fucked by the enormous cock stretching her uterus and belly. I pulled my fingers from her anus and, leaning forward, grabbed her wings. Holding onto them, I began pounding the swollen cock into her small vagina with all my might.

After a minute, the succubus hung limply, impaled on the cock, and occasionally moaned softly when the cock entered especially deeply. I pulled her by the wings and, with a final thrust, entered so deep that the skin on her belly stretched, outlining the contours of the head. Waves of orgasm began to shake the succubus, and then semen began to shoot out of my cock in spurts. It poured into the uterus and, trapped by the cock, began slowly filling it. The Red Serpent tattoo and the doubling spell greatly increase the volume of semen released. Therefore, the semen trapped in the uterus began slowly stretching the succubus's belly, as if she were pregnant. When the last stream of semen shot into the uterus, the belly filled with semen was already quite swollen. I began slowly pulling out my cock, and when it emerged, the vaginal walls were so stretched that the contracting uterus of the unclean one was visible. No longer restrained, semen gushed from the vagina and began flowing onto the ground, forming a white puddle.

I pulled up my pants, lit a cigarette, and, exhaling smoke, said:

— Have a safe journey, dear.

The motionless succubus's body was engulfed in blue flame, and a minute later, a gust of wind scattered the black ash left of her.

My phone vibrated in my jacket pocket. Taking it out, I saw the Shepherd's number on the display.

— Hello, what's wrong? — I asked anxiously.

— Grab Fyodor and get to me quickly, — a strained voice came from the speaker.

— And where are you? — I asked, but the call had already ended. Damn it, I thought the job was done and was already looking forward to dinner at a cozy restaurant. Sighing sadly, I strode toward the park. Passing by a high-rise with lit windows, I heard a dog howling from an apartment above. After a couple of seconds, a second one joined in, another answered in the distance, and within a minute, the district was filled with the sounds of dogs calling to each other. A logical chain formed in my head, and I calmly headed toward the park. Entering an alley planted with pines, I looked around, trying to remember where the pond was. The thing is, several types of unclean beings can scream in ultrasound, and it was precisely to this that the dogs responded. Immediately dismissing banshees and lesser vampires, I settled on the siren genus, to which our native rusalka belongs. They are contradictory creatures—on one hand, they fill water bodies with fish, and on the other, they can easily drown a person.

Between the trees, water glimmered like a silver mirror. Walking along a narrow asphalt path, I soon reached the sidewalk encircling the pond. On the concrete pier, under the moonlight, an unusual scene unfolded. A large anthropomorphic beast,

— Fyodor, the Shepherd said we need to get to him urgently, — I said and added, — though no idea where he is.

— I can sense him; we need to call a taxi, — the giant was terse and clearly had no money.

After paying the mustachioed driver, I waited as he slowly counted out the change, then got out of the car. Fyodor stood, tensely peering somewhere into the mass of gray buildings. I wanted to ask how his intuitive magic worked, but he turned and muttered:

— Run after me, Bookman.

— Now, you'll go alone; there's a werewolf there, — he said dully, — try not to catch the curse.

— And why aren't you going? — I asked and immediately bit my tongue, realizing what a stupid thing I'd said.

Fyodor waved his hand irritably, and the dust from his hand turned into a cloud of glowing butterflies.

— Follow them and good luck, — he uttered and turned away.

— Damn it, stop laughing; better help, — the Shepherd shouted irritably.

I stood up, brushed myself off, and asked:

— You know that's exactly why werewolves are killed, not exorcised.

— She was only recently cursed; I thought I could help, — the Shepherd replied quietly. A werewolf's vagina has one unpleasant feature: during orgasm, it tightly clamps the exorcist's cock. This prevents the completion of the exorcism ritual, and soon the exorcist dies from mana drain through the seal.

— Your kindness will be the death of you. — I replied, taking a small bronze dagger from my jacket's inner pocket. Its blade gleamed ominously, reflecting the streetlights, and the handle burned my hand. This was the Dagger of Endings, the most repulsive of artifacts. It allowed exorcising an unclean being without a ritual but demanded a human life in return. The number of notches on the blade equaled the number of lives taken. I had only one left. I approached the entwined bodies and raised the dagger, aiming for a small spot under the werewolf's shoulder blade.

— Stop, Bookman, she can still be saved; I have medicine. — the Shepherd shouted.

— Medicine for lycanthropy? — I asked incredulously.

— Yes, she just attacked unexpectedly, and I didn't have time to use it, — the Shepherd said hurriedly, — dropped it somewhere behind you.

I looked back and noticed a faint glint of glass in the grass right by the garage wall. Approaching, I reached out and retrieved a small vial from the wet grass.

— Found it? — asked the Shepherd.

— Yeah, a glass jar with a cloudy liquid inside, — I replied.

— Hurry up and get over here and listen. — the Shepherd replied impatiently, — it's medicine inside, and it needs to be rubbed into the werewolf.

I glanced at the coarse, black fur and understood the Shepherd's idea. Rubbing the ointment on the outside would be very difficult, but from the inside... The werewolf's vagina was occupied, leaving only...

— I need to administer the medicine rectally? — I asked with a foolish smile.

— Yes, and hurry, please; my mana is about to run out. — the Shepherd said strainedly.

I quickly pulled down my pants and unscrewed the jar's lid. Sniffing, I expected a foul smell to hit my nose, but the ointment smelled of pine. Taking a thick glob of the potion with two fingers, I began spreading it over my cock. The ointment left a pleasant chill and stung slightly. Finishing, I knelt and lifted the werewolf's tail. The dark-brown ring of the anus, wrinkled inward, looked very defenseless. I could only hope that in her human life, she really loved anal sex. Pressing the head against the hole, I pushed hard. Meeting the tight ring of the sphincter, the head wrinkled, but thanks to the ointment, it began to slowly work its way inside. The werewolf twitched, feeling something entering her from behind, but the Shepherd held her firmly. I pushed even harder, and my cock slipped. Scooping more ointment