Pamela muttered a curse as she dropped her pen. It rolled under the table and without thinking, she got down on her hands and knees to retrieve it. From behind, her dress was flipped up and she heard the maniacal giggling as something reached for her underpants.
"Don't!" she barked.
"Yezz, yezz, yezz," the small voice wheedled.
Taking her pen, Pamela spun around on her knees to confront the small, naked figure.
"Ah, sucky!" he cried, aiming his hard-on toward her mouth.
Pamela's hand came from the side, slapping the member aside. When its owner tried to push it at her again, she grabbed it and gave her hand a twist.
"Youch!" the creature cried but several more of them giggled.
Sensing another one approaching from under the table, she kicked out with one leg, connecting the heel of her shoe squarely with the creature's chest and sent him flying across the room where it stopped at the wall with a hard thud. More of its kind howled with laugher and the victim joined them.
"Arthur," she growled.
At the sound of her husband's footsteps, the creatures stepped back and quieted a little - just a little.
Pamela sighed. Imps could be useful but having an entire pack of them - around twenty (counting them as they scurried about was a test for even her supernatural powers) - suddenly arrive through an accidental opening of a dimensional portal was highly annoying.
They stood only about three to three and half feet tall and, although strong for their size, could be controlled. One of the major problems was their insatiable appetite for sex, sporting erections for nearly every waking moment (and often while they were asleep).
Pamela stood up, her pantied regions somewhat safer for the moment, and glared at the gathering. They varied in color from pale green to yellow, light gray, and brown. Several were hopping, anxious to sink their dicks into anything. Pamela was glad they had sent Milhouse, their huge hell hound, to a fellow coven member's for safe-keeping.
"Now boys," Arthur scolded the crew. "I told you to mind your manners. Just relax and wait a few hours and I'll have some ladies just your size."
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Mr Double's Palisade A MrDouble Production:
Changes last made on: Wednesday, October 19, 2016