The path to becoming a warlock is long, difficult, and—in Phil Rowling’s case—filled with unhealthy amounts of dangerous sex.
After summoning and being dragged off to hell by Verdé and her sexy succubus friends, Phil returns to Wargsnouts College for Warlocks to discover he’s been placed in the fast track Advanced Studies class. Here students are taught how to control and harness the power of their daemons. Phil just wants to find out how to stop his succubi from trying to kill him and his fellow students with mind-blowing, soul-draining sex. On top of this he also has to worry about a callous teacher who doesn’t care how many of his students die, a vengeful student sending an alluring arachne assassin after him to sexually suck him to death, and additional lessons from his own succubus, Cέrμləa, that might just unhinge rather than broaden his mind.
Magic, mayhem, monster girls, and dollops and dollops of weird sex abound as hapless novice warlock Phil Rowling continues his misadventures in succubus summoning.
Warnings: TThis title contains graphic language, sex and elements of horror. Sex with daemons can be extremely hazardous to your health!
Word Count: 90,000
The room resembled an old-style classroom. There was a blackboard on the back wall and a teacher's desk sat in front of it. Arranged in rows facing the front were plain wooden desks. The walls were covered in children's crayon drawings. They depicted gross sexual acts and unsettling images of torture, all rendered in a bright, childish style. One of the desks had a two foot machete embedded in the top.
"Class is in session," Cέrμləa said, dropping a couple of dusty tomes onto the teacher's desk.
A casual observer might have mistaken her for the pupil and Phil the teacher, even though it was the other way around. Cέrμləa might have looked and sounded like a child, but she was anything but.
"I think Nurse Honey might have killed one of the other students," Phil said. He was still moping over the news he'd heard that morning.
"Oh? They probably asked for it," Cέrμləa said as she wiped a disturbing chalk picture of a man being graphically tortured with hooks off the blackboard.
The board rubber was attached to a pole to allow her to reach the top corners.
"How do I stop the succubi from killing more students?" Phil asked.
"Tell the other students not to have sex with them otherwise they'll have their souls sucked out," Cέrμləa suggested. "No-one ever seems to pay attention to that bit," she muttered to herself.
It wasn't the answer Phil was hoping for.
"Anyway!" Cέrμləa slammed a cane down on the teacher's desk for emphasis. "Class has begun. Take a seat, but not at that desk." She pointed to an otherwise unremarkable desk two rows back. "I think it ate my last student."
It looked like any other desk. Phil still looked at it warily as he picked a desk in the middle of the front row.
"Let's start with basic geography," Cέrμləa said. "The others tell me that's what your lectures have been about lately. Describe the basic topography of hell to me."
"Um, okay," Phil said. He recalled what he'd been told both in his previous Wargsnouts lectures and then the special lectures from Lutwidge. "It's a separate plane. There are seven concentric circles, each corresponding to a primal sin. Satan rules the whole of hell from his throne located in the seventh, innermost circle of hell."
Cέrμləa put a hand over her face. She turned around and, with a piece of chalk on the end of a holder, chalked a large F on the blackboard.
"Most information on hell comes to humans from daemons," she explained.
She added embellishments to the F she'd drawn on the blackboard. She added fangs to the two horizontal lines, making a mouth. She added long horns curving backwards to the top and bottom of the vertical line. Then she drew a pair of batwings coming out of the back and roughly level with the bottom horizontal line.
"Daemons are all creatures of deceit," Cέrμləa continued. "The information they give humans is often lies and shouldn't be trusted."
"Um, but aren't you a daemon," Phil pointed out. "Doesn't that mean I can't really trust what you tell me either?"
Cέrμləa morphed into a statuesque, stern-looking dominatrix with long flowing electric-blue hair and a baroque basque that emphasised a considerably enlarged cleavage.
"Quiet in class!" she yelled. Her red eyes glowed as she slammed her cane down on the desk for punctuation.
Phil quietened up.
This book was added to our catalog on Saturday 10 September, 2016.