Tristessa: A Succubus in Love Ch. 02

I'd been hanging around London for weeks now, hoping to find Charlotte, or at least that she'd find me. Well, not so much the latter—I definitely wanted the element of surprise on my side, and not hers. Self-preservation and all that. Word around town from other demons was that she was probably affiliated with the Circle of the Purity Scroll, a group dating from ancient Rome that sought to rid the world of demonic beings. They were a pretty shadowy bunch, though, and no one seemed to know anything about them having a significant presence in London. I was beginning to think she had been here simply to deal with Ellison, but even if that were the case, I would have been surprised if she hadn't stuck around knowing I was in town.

In any case, a girl's gotta eat. As per my usual MO, I'd been preying on either real scumbags, the kind of people that deserved to die, or on hard-luck cases: those with terminal illnesses or who were about to kill themselves. Cancer support groups were always a good place to find someone. In fact, attending them was part of my strategy to find Charlotte. I thought she might put two and two together, after what I'd told her, and realize these would be a prime spot for me. But so far, no luck. I struck out in the feeding department as well; the only men at the meeting were some combination of old, fat, and gross. No poor souls being cut down in the prime of life.

It had been a week now since my last feeding, though, so I was getting pretty desperate. I'd heard rumors of a sex club controlled by the Russian mafia. Real sick stuff; kidnapped Eastern European girls that upper-class twits would spend hundreds of thousand of pounds to rape and torture to death. Through some well-placed cash outlays of my own (when you're twelve-hundred years old, money isn't much of an issue; you've had plenty of time to make some solid investments) I got a line on a girl who was being taken off a cargo ship and sent to wherever this place was.

I got down to the docks just in time; she was going willingly enough. Probably thought all she had to do was some porn or prostitution, the poor thing. I was hoping they were going to load her into the back of a van or something, from where I could have taken her place unseen, but she was just riding in the back seat of a BMW 750. There was a driver and one other guy riding shotgun. I followed them instead, keeping to the rooftops as much as possible. Eventually the car turned into an underground parking garage in Acton. I scrambled down to the street and down the ramp just in time to see the three of them get into an elevator. It stopped at the fourth floor of what was a five-story building. Back up to the roof then. I figured they had at least the top two floors. The operation probably was largely a conventional brothel, with, I assumed, one or two "special" rooms for the rough stuff. It wasn't a particularly new idea. Anywhere there was too much money and too many easy thrills bred a market for this sort of thing. London, in particular, had a long history of sexual sacrifice. Let's just say Jack the Ripper didn't happen in a vacuum. But that's a story for another time.

The doorway on the roof was well-secured. The locks wouldn't have been too much of a problem, but the alarms certainly were. I made my way around the side of the building along the fifth floor, peering into what windows weren't fully covered. It was, as I had suspected, an ordinary brothel. As far as I could tell, though, each window was alarmed. The fourth floor was more of the same, until I came to room with an open window. There was one man inside, sitting in front of a bank of video monitors. He was absentmindedly stroking his cock, his pants unbuckled and pulled down just enough to give him access. A security guy, no doubt, but when you've got nothing to look at but grainy cam footage of people fucking, I guess it's easy enough to lose your focus. He wasn't the one I wanted, but I was awfully hungry. Before he knew what was happening, I had straddled him, slipping my cunt right over his erect member.

He started to say, "What the hell are..." (in Russian -- 1200 years gives you lots of time to learn languages, too) but was soon overcome by the intense pleasure he was feeling as I pushed down onto him. He was actually pretty big, and I say that as a girl who's not easily impressed. Nor was he bad looking. He had made some poor career choices, though. I began to grind into him, pushing him deeper into my cunt, moving my hips in a circular motion. The sense of fullness his cock was giving me was nice, to say the least, and in any case I wasn't in much of a mood to take my time. I focused my mind on the sensation of his hot, engorged cock sliding in and out of me, and in a few seconds I was coming -- which meant that he was, too, a few seconds after that. As usual, the sensations he was experiencing made the fact that I had suddenly turned bright red and grown horns and a tail not all that important to him. As his life force spurted into me for the next two or three minutes, his body wracked with an unknowable and unimaginable pleasure even as he passed from this world, I came again, the spasms of my vagina squeezing out his excess ejaculate that, pooling up, began to make a loud squelching sound as I continued to move up and down on his nearly exhausted body. His eyes were wide with wonder as the last of his soul dribbled from his cock. As I climbed off of him, his body fell off the chair onto the floor.

I quickly cleaned up with a fistful of tissues and started to examine the video monitors. There were several BDSM-themed rooms with various accoutrements -- sawhorses, shackles embedded into the walls, floggers, and the like. But outside of the décor, they were just ordinary rooms, except for one. This one looked medical or clinical, all white tile, with a padded leather thing that was half-chair, half-bed, and all sinister. It was either for people with a serious medical fetish, or it was the torture room -- much easier to clean up blood. The monitor was labeled 404, so I figured it was on the fourth floor, same as me. There was no one in the room, yet.

I was pretty well sated, hunger-wise, after that, which of course diminished my biological imperative to feed but nevertheless left me with something of a dilemma. Here was a group of evil men, doing very bad things. I could, probably, one by one, go through the place and fuck each one to death. That seemed kind of wasteful, though, when I knew I could keep coming back here every time I got hungry. But then there was the problem of the girls. Sure, I could get the one who was heading for the torture room out of there, but they'd just send another one in her place. I could try to get them all out of there, but I'm just one person and I can't solve every problem in the world. It was time to come up with a plan.

I spent thirty minutes or so watching the video monitors. There were maybe ten or twelve girls active at any one time. There were two rooms that were dormitories, with a dozen or so beds in each room. There seemed to be eight guys around the place, five on this floor and three upstairs. Two of them on the 4th floor were ensconced in an office; the rest seemed to be guards. There were also two guys downstairs at the elevator in the garage, doormen more or less, and a woman who went back and forth, escorting clients up to the girls. One of the two guys in the office went out and checked on this or that every few minutes; the other never seemed to get out from behind his desk. Probably the head guy. I slipped down the hall to what I figured was the office. I figured right.

"Who are you?" the number two man asked, in Russian. The whole conversation was going to be in Russian. I addressed myself not to him, but to the man behind the desk.

"I'm from Sergei," I said. There's always a Sergei somewhere higher up. "A gift for the both of you. For your hard work." I started to take off my shirt.

"We have the run of the girls already," the second man said, to which the head man said, "Shut up, Mikhail."

I smiled seductively at Mikhail and said, "Yes but with me you don't need condoms. I'm clean." My shirt was off by now, and my bra soon followed. I draped myself over the desk on my stomach and began to unbutton the head man's pants. By the time I pulled his cock out, he was already hard. I went right to work with my mouth. Succubae don't have gag reflexes, so if you think you've had a good blowjob (or can give one), you haven't. I took him right down my throat. He grasped the back of my head and pushed me down further, my lips now pressing hard into his pubis. After a few seconds, he pulled me up by my hair, not letting his cock fall from my mouth, and then pushed me back down. He started to do this more rapidly. I let the drool pour out of my mouth, dripping down his shaft and soaking his pubic hair. After a couple minutes of this, I pulled back and held my face just inches from his, smiling.

"What's your name, lover?"

"Alexei."

"Well, Alexei, tell your friend to get over on that couch and to get his cock out. If you think my mouth is good, you're both in for a real treat. Tell him how good my mouth is." He was putty in my hands already. "Her mouth is amazing," he said. "Now go over to the couch. You heard her."

Mikhail didn't waste any time. What was it with these Russian guys? Alexei was more or less average, but Mikhail was even bigger than the guy in the video room. I sort of wished it was the other way around, because his was the one that was going to go in my ass. I don't do anal all that often because it doesn't get me anywhere, feeding-wise. I generally saved it for when I actually liked a guy, for whatever reason, and didn't want to kill him. Not that I liked Mikhail, but I had my reasons.

I quickly dropped my pants and panties after kicking off my shoes, and got on my knees in front of Mikhail. I licked my way up his long, thick, shaft, and then took him balls deep in one swift move. He gasped and I could feel his muscles tense up. I stuck my tongue out and licked his balls while he was still deep into my throat. Once I was got his cock nice and slick, I stood up, turned around, and lowered my ass onto him. It was a tight fit but within a minute he was buried inside me. It felt pretty fucking good. I hadn't had a solid assfuck in years, actually. But I had other things on my mind. Like Alexei. Poor Alexei. He had no idea what he was in for. Then again, neither had however many girls he'd sent to their deaths in the torture chamber. I beckoned him over with a come-hither glance, wrapped my fist around his cock, and pulled him toward my glistening pussy.

As he entered me, I began to rub my clit furiously and with Mikhail's enormous member buried in my asshole, I started to come in mere seconds, my skin suddenly turning red, my tail and horns popping out. Alexei soon followed suit, convulsions racking his body, his eyes rolling back in his head as his life force-turned-cum pumped into me. He was groaning and writhing for what seemed like longer than usual, and his ejaculate was flowing out between my things, dripping down onto Mikhail underneath me. Meanwhile, I had wrapped my tail around Mikhail's throat, choking him but not to the point where he was going to die. Not yet. He tried to call out to Alexei but didn't really have the breath to do so, and in any case Alexei, obviously, couldn't answer. His mind was elsewhere, busy embracing his own imminent demise, the pleasure pulsating upward from his cock outweighing the terror that gripped his heart. Even as his consciousness faded away, his body kept jerking in and out of me, fucking me to the very last. He finally slipped out of me and fell to the floor. As he did so I released my tail from Mikhail's throat, rose up off his cock, spun around so I was facing him, and, in the same motion, impaled my dripping cunt onto him (girls, don't ever do ass-to-pussy like that -- I can't get Chlamydia, but you can).

"What the fuck..." he gasped. "What are you? What did you do to him?"

"I killed him," I said, smiling down at him while I fucked him. Already, the pleasure was controlling him. He knew things weren't right, but his cock wouldn't let him do anything about it.

"H-how?"

"With my pussy. I sucked out his soul, Mikhail, and as soon as I come, I'm going to do the same to you. Unless..." I trailed off.

"Anything!" he yelled.

"Anything?" I grinned.

"Yes! Please!"

"Are you sure you don't want to come? I promise you you'll never feel better."

"I don't want to die. Please."

"Good. I have plans for you anyway. You're going to take over this little operation now that Alexei's gone. I know he's not the guy who's really in charge, but whoever that is, you're going to convince him that you're the new guy. And then you're going to change things around here. The girls are going to get better treatment. Access to doctors. Better food. More space. More money. Twice as much money. And the torture room, the killings. Those are going to be off the menu. Understand?"

"Yes. Please, lady, I'll do anything you say."

"I'll be checking on you. You know what a succubus is, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Good. Then you know I can come to you in your dreams." I couldn't, actually, but it was a common misconception, and as long as he thought I could, it was good enough for me. "Don't fuck this up, or it'll be the last thing you do." With that I climbed off him. On my way out the door, I gave him a look I'm sure he'll never forget, equal parts seductive grin and threatening glare.

I was nice and full now, and even had a good deed under my belt. Quite a day. Not what I was hoping for, exactly, but at least I wasn't hungry anymore. It was getting dark outside, and I had a yen for a nap before hitting the town later that night. Not for feeding purposes of course—just for entertainment. Catch a band, have some drinks, that sort of thing. I caught the Red Line at East Acton and took a seat on the far side of the train. The west-bound train pulled up just as we were pulling out. I found myself locking eyes though the window with a luscious-looking girl. She was staring right back. Contented as I was from the afternoon's activities, my mind probably wasn't as sharp as it ought to have been. It wasn't until my train began to pull out that I realized the girl was Charlotte.