For the first time this semester, Billy made it to Bio-Magical Ethics 101 early. It was a 7:00am class, making it hell for a satyr who wakes up hungover every morning. But last night’s orgy got cancelled thanks to the syphilis curse going around, so Billy finally got to see what waking up sober felt like. It was nice, so nice that he bothered to put on a t-shirt that morning instead of just going commando as satyrs are wont to do. He entered the classroom a few minutes before the class started and noticed a shapely, green-skinned woman sitting where his friend usually was.
“Yo, Victor, you’re looking fine this morning. You do all this for me?” Billy joked. The woman was wearing a low-cut t-shirt and yoga pants, appearing to have just gotten back from a morning jog. She turned towards the satyr, her lovely, wart-covered face throwing him into a panic. “Adelheid!?” he screamed, tumbling backward over his chair. “Wh-What did you do to my friend?”
“Who? You’ll have to be more specific,” she responded, “I’ve done a lot of things to a lot of people.” Billy was frozen in fear. If she was in sitting in Victor’s seat, then he must be in serious trouble, maybe even dead. As his buddy, Billy wanted nothing more than to rescue Victor from whatever cruel fate this woman bestowed upon him, but what could a simple woodland creature do against the Queen of Evil herself.
“Billy, it’s cool. I’m right here,” Victor’s disembodied voice called out. Billy looked towards Adelheid, the voice sounding like it was coming from her ass. “Down here.” The chair started rocking back and forth.
“Woah!” Heidi griped onto either side of the chair which was bucking her around like an animatronic bull. “Easy, easy.”
“Bro,” Billy’s fear dissipated into exasperated disbelief, “you turned yourself into a chair?” The couple laughed wildly together as Victor continued to swivel and shake. The rest of the classroom just tried to ignore their ruckus as they went about their own lives.
“Hey, I just had a good idea,” Victor said. His bones, currently taking a metallic form, creaked and bent as they expanded. Soft leather pads grew out of him as his chair shaped frame bulked up. The backrest dove backwards and an awning sprung up from under Heidi’s legs. In a matter of seconds, the incubus went from the typical classroom chair to a Lazy Boy recliner. Vibrating massagers activated within Victor’s leather body, swarming all over Adelheid’s backside and rear. The witch’s eyed rolled back as her boyfriend targeted her most sensitive spots.
“You guys are weird,” Billy commented as he sat down next to Heidi. “Name’s Billy. I’m friends with your seat.” Heidi limply turned her head to face him.
“You’re a satyr, named Billy?” she moaned.
“Yeah, my parents were real comedians.” As the class was getting settled, the professor floated in. Prof. Abatur was a celestial, a graceful being of pure holiness, favored and employed by God. He worked part time at Fenglewood Academy as a theology and ethics professor.
“Good morning class. Open your texts to- What in God’s good name are you doing here!?” The usually stoic celestial shook at the sight of the green woman in a massage chair.
“Herr Froggy!” Heidi shouted, springing back to life as Victor powered down. Abatur had a reputation for being overly strict and demanding despite mostly teaching gen ed. classes to freshmen, but that all changed a week ago. After attempting to chastise Ms. Hemlock for her inhumane behavior, she turned him into a frog and stuffed him in her bra for an hour. The experience was so humiliating, he lost all his edge as an authority figure, becoming the laughingstock of the school and another example of why it’s best to let the young witch be. His pleas to the headmaster to have her expelled fell on deaf ears; in fact, he was given specific instructions to let her do whatever she wished as the Hemlocks had been the school’s biggest donors for generations.
Abatur grit his teeth and white knuckled his podium, still not used to letting a student have their way. He correctly deduced that the chair she was sitting on was his incubus student. “Listen, Ms. Hemlock, you may sit in on my class if you’d like, but please keep off my students. Mr. Frankenmuth needs to be able to take notes.”
“No he don’t,” Heidi sassed. “He’s always going on about how this class is waste of his time.”
“Heidi!” the recliner protested.
“All your test questions are just common sense; nobody actually pays attentions to your droning lectures. My Liebling Victor only shows up because of your stupid mandatory attendance policy.”
“I told you all that in confidence, babe.”
“Don’t mind me,” she continued. “I’m just here to give my darling something to do. You can go on prattling about…” she turned to Billy, “What’s this class, again?”
“Bio-magical ethics,” he replied. Heidi burst into a giggling fit.
“Fuck, that is pointless.”
An awkward silence encompassed the room as the celestial hovered there, defeated by a brat an infinitesimal fraction of his age. Abatur grabbed his unopened briefcase and made for the exit. “Class is cancelled today. Go do a good deed or something, I don’t care.” The entire class got up and left, happy they could do something meaningful with their morning. A few thanked Heidi as they passed by. Billy gave her a high-five.
“Vic, you’re girlfriend’s awesome. Let me borrow her for History of Potions.”
Heidi slapped the side of the recliner. “Grow some wheels, Schatzi. We’re getting out of here.”
“Give me a second.” The back of the chair folded in on itself as the armrests collapsed. Leather hardened and morphed into sleek black metal. The leg rest rose up and morphed into handle bars, wheels developing where the chair’s base used to be. Victor transformed into a sleek, black motorcycle with orange race lines. His leather seat rubbed up against his girlfriend’s crotch as he revved his engines.
“Hop on, goat boy,” Heidi called. Billy gripped her tightly from behind as she spun the bike 270 degrees and blazed out of the classroom. Students and faculty dove to the walls as the witch popped wheelies through the castle hallways.
…
Victor was lying on the couch in Adelheid’s dorm, flipping through a magazine while he waited for his girlfriend to get ready. She was in her bathroom, combing her hair and applying pro-blemish cream to her warts. Victor was currently a short, skinny redhead lazing about his girlfriend’s place. With a sudden bang, a dozen men in black robes and stone masks burst through the door and surrounded the incubus.
“There’s the heathen!” One cried, holding a wavy, obsidian dagger. The other eleven men gathered around the unsuspecting Victor and pulled him off the couch, holding his limbs as their leader brandished his knife. “You dare sully the Hemlock clan with your undeserving presence! You must be stripped of this mortal realm and banished to a thousand hells for your transgression!” The robed man held the dagger above Victor’s chest, preparing to strike. The incubus’ invulnerability only worked if there was someone nearby getting off to his injuries, so unless one of these strangers had a stabbing fetish, he was in actual danger.
Victor’s assailant swung the knife at his heart. The incubus closed his eyes, wincing at the pain that was sure to come, but all he felt was the man’s fist slamming into his chest. Opening his eyes, he saw the knife had turned into a long blade of grass, bending harmlessly against his body. An orange aura surrounded Victor and the robed strangers as the group of men all shrunk to half an inch tall.
“I thought I told you asskissers to leave me the hell alone,” Adelheid grumbled. Her footsteps shook the floor, producing cacophonous booms she approached the shrunken men. “I’m not even head of the clan yet. Go back to bothering Mom and Dad.” The cultists abandoned Victor and circled Adelheid’s imposing, green feet.
“Please have mercy, Hellish Mistress! We did not mean to insult you!” one cultist shouted, gazing longingly at her toes. Adelheid lowered her big toe onto him, shattering his spine and ribcage as she pinned him to the floor.
“Oh Queen of all Things Vile, please forgive us. Do not use your heel to grind me into a fine paste!” The man was pinned down by the end of her foot, and with one powerful twist, was squashed into a red and flesh-tone goop.
“Your punishments are needlessly cruel! Why must you do such awful things, like flinging me into the air and flicking me away like the insignificant bug I am.” The man was magically lifted a few feet up, floating aimlessly in front of the witch’s chest. After priming her middle finger behind her thumb, Adelheid splattered the man against her fingernail. The witch continued to squish each cultist beneath her foot, making sure to fulfill each one’s dying wish. Even at her boyfriend’s miniscule size, she noticed the tentpole forming in his pants as he watched her decimate his attackers with her powerful body. Lucky bastards, he thought.
Before long only one cultist remained, the group’s leader who wished nothing more than to wipe Victor off this world. No man deserved to lay with his goddess, especially not some lowly, backwoods, servile sex demon. The cultist grappled Victor from behind and pointed his blade of grass at his neck.
“Do with me what you will, m’lady, for I will not descend to Hell alone. This insolent imp will suffer my righteous retribution for all eternity as we grapple in the broiling pits of Tartarus!”
“Oh just shut up already,” Heidi groaned. A deep shadow encroached the shrunken men; crimson droplets rained upon them as she held her blood-soaked sole over them. The cultist laughed maniacally as he fulfilled his life’s purpose. The two crumpled like pop cans beneath the ball of Heidi’s foot. For extra measure, and pleasure, she pivoted her foot from side to side, atomizing every living thing beneath it. With one final scrape, Heidi pulled her foot from the floor, watching the bloodstain below bubble with new life. “Enjoy yourself down there?”
Skin and bones materialized out of the pool of blood; a miniature thumbs up poking out of the sanguine fluid.
“Sorry about all that. My family’s followers tend to get a little zealous,” she confessed as the rest of Victor’s body reconstituted itself on the floor. Heidi sat down on the floor, resting her heel directly in front of Victor. Her foot towered over him like a monolith as mushed up viscera slowly slid down her sole. “And they make such a big mess without ever cleaning up after themselves.” The witch’s closet door flung open, and an animated mop and bucket pranced over to the tiny man, shrinking down to his size as they got closer to him. “But that’s what I have you for,” she giggled.
…
Adelheid was laying on her stomach on the floor, flipping through the magazine Victor was reading moments ago, her bloodied sole facing upward as her half inch tall boyfriend mopped up the liquified remains of overzealous cultists. In a half hour, all he had gotten done was the ball, leaving the entire arch, heel, and her toes still stained in blood.
“How’s it going back there?” Heidi asked, glancing over her shoulder.
“I could finish a lot quicker if you just returned me to normal,” Victor complained. An orange aura surrounded him and his cleaning tools, shrinking them down to a quarter inch scale. The witch cackled as her boyfriend took in the fact that his workload just doubled. “Y’know, I’m more into physical torture than the menial kind.” Heidi pushed herself off the ground, sitting up and turning around. Victor slid off her foot and fell to the floor.
“Yeah, it seemed like a fun idea at first, but the novelty wears off quick.” The mop and bucket hustled back to the closet, regaining their original size in the process. A washcloth flew out of Heidi’s bathroom and wiped her foot clean, accomplishing in seconds what would’ve taken Victor hours. “Let’s try something more your speed.” The shrunken incubus was lifted into the air and sent hurtling towards the kitchen table, breaking his neck on impact. As Adelheid sat down in front of him, two hands sprouted out of the other end of the table’s surface. Their thumbs touched and their index fingers stretched upwards, forming a mock goalpost. Victor stood up, cracking his head back into place as Heidi grew him to an inch and a half. “Ever hear of paper football?”
“That thing Americans play?”
“Mm-hm. Too bad I’m all out of paper.” She gripped his legs between her thumb and index finger, holding him steady against the table, and flicked him with her other hand. Her middle finger catapulted into his body, the nail slicing his torso from his waist. The force of her flick sent the incubus’ arms flying in either direction. His head ripped free of his chest as his tattered body flipped rapidly through the air towards the goal. Victor’s miniature torso soared between the disembodied hands as his head flew off to God-knows-where. “Score!” Heidi celebrated, peering down at her boyfriend’s lower half still pinned between her fingers. Judging by how stretched his shrunken pants were, this was much more to his liking.