Handbook of Erotic Fantasy: Simo (Patreon)

Something had finally broken between them. The only surprise was that it had taken so long.

“Mmmph!” said Witch.

“Um-urmph!” said Succubus.

Brutus looked on with worry. The pyromaniacal little hedgehog didn’t have much of a moral compass, but he did feel some small flicker of responsibility. After all, it was he who had suggested the charm monster spell. It was he who had spent the past several days in communion with his mistress: refining the necessary vocal components, correcting pronunciation, and suggesting those subtle iflections most likely to penetrate fiendish SR. And to be fair, the fiend in question had been thoroughly penetrated.

Tongue lolling, eyes filled with peculiar heart-shaped lights, Witch managed to raise her head for the space of a breath. “You’re so strong,” she panted. “So pretty. You should lead the Evil Party.”

Succubus seemed to swim up out of a haze. “What?” she breathed, lips glistening with her rival’s love juices. “No! I adore being your underling. You’re so deliciously wicked!”

“But your hair is so manageable!”

“But your necklines are so plunging!”

And at that ‘plunging,’ the twin magics reclaimed the pair. The chamber once again filled with the sound of lingual rapture.

It was, Brutus supposed, inevitable. Ever since Witch’s first recruitment drive, there had been a certain tension. Would the demoness serve at the whim of the mortal — a bound tool of Witch’s gleeful depravity — or would Succubus usurp the mage’s place as leader of the vilest adventures in the kingdom? The question would have to wait another day. Or more precisely, 1 day/level. For more than anyone, Brutus knew just how long charm monster could last, and that the furiously 69ing villainesses before him would be a good long while before their duel had reached a mutually-satisfactory conclusion.