A Devilish Temptation

Warning:

The following story will focus primarily on the play and consumption of human waste including feces and urine. If these topics do not interest you, I would not recommend you read further. If you do, however, continue to read then do not rate this story poorly due to its contents alone. Although, constructive criticism and comments are appreciated.

All characters are fictional and over the age of 18.

Author's Note:

Taking a short break from The College Sluts, I thought I would write a story different than a lot of my other works. At the suggestion of one of my readers, this story includes more fantasy elements with the inclusion of succubi and futanari. I realize that this is not something everyone is into, but I wanted to try something new. Hopefully you enjoy!

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Chapter 1

"Fuck, come on!" Amber swore, turning the key in her ignition for the fourth time, "Work you fucking piece of shit!" After giving the steering wheel a hard slap, however, the car's engine sputtered and died. Grabbing her bag from the passenger's seat, she swung open the door and stumbled out onto the pavement. "I don't have time for this," she shouted, kicking the tire before jogging through the parking lot of her apartment complex to the street.

She thought sleeping in was the worst of it, but Amber's morning had been one problem after another. First, she missed her alarm, then her shower didn't have any hot water, and now her car wouldn't start. Running in her office clothes in the California heat, Amber could feel the sweat already drenching her body before she even made it to the end of her block.

It was all in vain, though, as she made it to the bus stop just in time to see the bus speed past. "Are you fucking kidding me!" Amber screamed, unconcerned with who Amber be viewing her breakdown. Slumping on the bench with defeat, she pulled out her phone and figured out when the next bus would come: 15 minutes. Switching apps, she quickly typed in Stephanie's number from memory.

"Amber, where the hell are you?" the girl picked up only seconds later whispering into the phone.

"Hey Steph," Amber put her head in her hands, wincing, "I'm going to be late today, can you cover for me?"

"Going to be late? Amber, you were supposed to punch in fifteen minutes ago. You're already late. When are you going to be here?" Stephanie replied angrily.

"Um... like fifteen minutes."

"Another fifteen minutes?!"

"Probably more like twenty. Twenty-five tops, I promise," Amber lied, knowing it would definitely be longer.

"Jesus Christ Amber, you're almost thirty and yet you still can't show up to work on time?" Stephanie was angry, but not surprised. The two women had been friends since they were little; she was more than familiar with Amber's habit of being late.

"I'm 27, the same age as you," Amber grumbled.

"Yeah, and I'm at work like a responsible adult!"

"My car wouldn't start, OK? Otherwise, I would have been there!" Amber protested, intentionally omitting the fact that, had her car started, she still would've been late.

"I told you not to buy such a piece of junk car," Stephanie remarked.

"And I told you that I couldn't afford a better car."

"Just-" Stephanie paused, taking a breath, "Just get here as soon as possible, OK? I'll try to cover for you but I'm not making any promises."

"Thanks, you're the best friend ever," Amber let out a sigh of relief, "I'll be there soon."

"You better be."

"The bus is here, I got to go," Amber lied, trying to end the conversation as soon as possible. Hanging up her phone, she shoved it back into her pocket. Leaning forward, she looked down the street attempting to spot the bus but saw nothing. All that she could do now is wait.

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"Thank you," Amber flashed the bus driver a quick smile as she hurried down the stairs and out the door. Checking both ways, she dashed across the street and up to her office building where she swiped her access card and jogged inside.

"Look who finally showed up," Stephanie remarked, grabbing Amber's arm and pulling her into the offices, "Dressed like absolute shit and only forty-five minutes late."

"Look, I'm sorry, OK? Now let go of my arm," Amber struggled out of the girl's grip, "I can walk without your help." She tried to avoid the wandering gazes of her coworkers, some of them watching the scene unfolding from their desks.

"I got you this job," Stephanie said under her breath, hoping to keep their conversation private as they passed a group of people congregating the hallway, "When you are late or fuck up, it looks bad on me. And I don't understand why you continue to dress like some rebellious teen. Do you even own professional attire? Jeans and a t-shirt are not what you should be wearing to work." She led the two of them into the elevator, pushing the button for the third floor.

Amber rolled her eyes, "I told you I was sorry."

"Doris is pissed," Stephanie ignored the obviously phoned-in apology.

"When isn't she pissed? That old bitch sat on a nail when she was twenty and it's still stuck up her ass," Amber remarked, her look to Stephanie causing the girl to laugh before she quickly regained her composure.

"You shouldn't say that about her, she is your boss."

"Uh, stop trying to pretend like you're all professional," Amber grumbled, "I've known you most of your life, and the day you got your job here you suddenly act like some sort of hoity-toity businesswoman. It must be so exhausting."

"I am professional, and I work hard. I started with a shitty desk job like you have a few years ago and, through my hard work, I managed to work my way up to an executive chief revenue officer," Stephanie stated proudly, stepping out of the elevator and turning down the hallway to her left.

Jogging to catch up to her friend, Amber continued, "Do you even know what that means? There's four words in your title and none of them actually tell what you do."

"I manage the revenue generation and collection at-"

"Yeah, I don't care," Amber waved her hand, cutting the girl off.

"Oh my god, remind me why we are friends?" Stephanie sighed, pulling her phone from her pocket to check the notification she had just received, "I'm needed upstairs, can you handle behaving for the rest of the day?"

"Obviously I can-" Amber stopped in her tracks as they rounded the corner, almost running into the crowd of people surrounding her desk. Mostly men, they were all seemingly lost in a trance, staring at the young woman who was currently sitting in her desk chair. "Well, I was going to say that I can behave, but there is some bitch sitting in my chair," she asserted.

"OK, just..." Stephanie rubbed her face, "I have to go. Please don't make a big deal out of this." Not wasting another second, she turned on her heels and made her way back to the elevators they just came from.

Of course, Amber being Amber, she couldn't just ignore such blatant mistreatment of her property. With a huff, she shoved through the crowd, flashing the strange woman her best pissed-off expression before storming to the office at the other side of the room. Flinging open the glass door and slamming it behind her, Amber wasted no time laying into Doris. "Why the hell is there someone sitting at my desk?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"Oh, didn't you hear? You're fired," Doris said with a shit-eating grin.

"Don't fuck with me," Amber spat.

Doris' face shifted to one of disappointment, the older woman taking a long drink of her coffee before continuing, "Fine, you're not fired. As much as I want you to be," she said under her breath, "You're lucky as hell to have a friend high up. But I don't even think she can save you if you continue to fuck around."

"Then, back to my earlier question, why the hell is there someone at my desk?!"

"She's new. Some friendly competition maybe," Doris grinned again, "Or maybe your future replacement. You can work at the spare desk by the breakroom until we can find somewhere better."

"Why does she get my desk and I have to take the spare?" Amber asked, narrowing her eyes.

Doris laughed at the question, "Because she wasn't an hour late."

"Forty-five minutes," Amber grumbled as she turned to leave, knowing she had lost.

"Oh, and by the way," Doris shouted just as the girl was about to leave the office, "Go clean yourself up, you look like shit. More than usual, anyway."

Amber slammed the door, the sound of Doris' laughter now no longer audible. Pulling her laptop bag from her shoulder, she tossed it on her new desk for the foreseeable future. Without any direct overhead light, her new space was dark as it was dingy. The fiberboard top was cracked and peeling, the edging dangling freely from the sides.

"Fuck this," Amber dropped into the chair, though she had to quickly grab the side of the desk as one of the wheels popped off and almost sent her sprawling to the floor. "Of course," Amber sighed, finally conceiting. Pulling her beat-up laptop from her bag, she slid it onto her desk and opened it. In its black screen, Amber saw her disheveled reflection and tired state.

Knowing full well that it would be at least another ten minutes before her computer was in any state of usability, Amber decided it best to deal with her less-than-professional looks. Sliding out of her chair, she slinked past Doris' office and to the bathrooms located on the other side of the floor. Waiting for a group of chatting women to slowly inch out the door, Amber slipped inside and made her way to the sinks.

For once it seemed Doris was telling the truth; she did look like shit. The sweat now dried; stains were left on the armpits of Amber's t-shirt. Her once-dirty blonde hair was now a deep brown, wet and clinging to her forehead, just above her heavily bagged eyes. Fortunately, she couldn't be bothered to wear makeup and, as such, had no concerns about dunking her whole head under the running tap. The cool water felt nice and helped to rinse away some of her dried perspiration. Using a paper towel to dry off, Amber grabbed her loose curls and forced them back into her messy ponytail.

"Hmmm, you do clean up nice," a voice came from behind the girl's back.

Jumping, Amber only just realized that there was a woman's reflection in the mirror, visible just over her shoulder. "What the fuck?!" Amber spun around, finding herself face to face with the woman who was previously sitting in her desk chair. "Oh, it's you," she said through gritted teeth, "The one who stole my desk."

She was tall, at least six feet based on Amber's estimation and comparison to her own five-foot-seven. Red hair fell far past the woman's shoulders. It didn't look natural nor dyed, a fiery crimson that appeared almost as if it was glowing. The natural wavy ends ended centrally on the woman's bust which was almost absurdly large.

"Name's Sierra," the woman smiled, taking a step forward and reaching out her hand, "A pleasure to meet you."

"Don't even think about it," Amber slapped away the hand, trying to move past the human blockage to escape the bathroom.

"Hmmm," Sierra just grinned, "I knew you were a feisty one. But you don't want to leave, not yet."

Before she could process the words, Amber heard the bathroom door open and the sound of heels clicking across the tile. Hands were suddenly on her shoulder and forced her forward, Sierra pushing her into an open stall. Sierra hooked the door with her foot, slamming it closed before adjusting her hold on her co-worker. Amber tried to wiggle free from the woman's grip, but Sierra's grip was inhumanly strong. Yet, Amber still tried to escape. "Get the fuck off me!" she whispered harshly, thrashing her shoulders.

"In a few minutes," Sierra hissed, pinning Amber against the stall's wall. A few stalls down from them came the sound of a metal door swinging closed and a lock clicking into place. To Sierra, Amber still looked pissed, but she was no longer struggling, perhaps realizing that it was futile. "Do you hear that?" the woman tilted her head, listening to the sound of urine lightly trickling into the toilet bowl to their left.

"I'm not listening to another girl piss," Amber tried to shove the woman off to no avail.

"Oh, but you are," Sierra grinned, her ear twitching as she heard a subtle crackling and rush of air, "And maybe more-" she cut herself off, turning to Amber before narrowing her eyes in an observatory manor.

"What?" Amber whispered, trying to get out of the woman's eye line.

"I knew about the pee..." Sierra said, more to herself than Amber, "But... I didn't expect this. No, this, this is much less common." Her face returned to its grinning state, her eyes widening as she licked her lips.

"What the hell are you doing," Amber began to struggle again, clearly noticing the shift in the atmosphere.

"You like it."

Amber tried her best to keep up her angry front, "Like what? What the fuck are you talking about? Creep."

"I can smell it you know..." Sierra's eyes locked onto Amber's, her gaze smoldering with desire.

"Yeah, I can smell it too. It smells like shit. Probably because we are in a fucking bathroom and there is a woman taking a shit four stalls down from us," Amber hissed.

"Three, actually," Sierra corrected, moving a little closer to Amber, "And I wasn't talking about that smell."

"Get off of me!" Amber tried shoving the woman's shoulders away but soon found herself being engulfed in Sierra's hefty chest.

"No," Sierra continued, completely unphased, "I was talking about the oh so addicting smell of arousal. The sweetness, the musky, deep aroma of another woman. It is one of the best things in the world." Sierra flared her nostrils, taking in a long, deep breath.

Recoiling, Amber returned to thrashing, "What are you talking about?!"

"You're a strange case, aren't you? Don't often run into girls into shit. Watersports are becoming more mainstream every day," Sierra tilted her head, looking up to the ceiling, deep in thought, "But the brown stuff? That's still heavily taboo. I can't remember the last time I met someone into it, honestly. So unwomanly," her face twisted into another wicked grin, eyes locking back onto Amber's.

The woman began punching now, fists flying into Sierra's stomach. As she made contact, however, Amber knew she was having absolutely no effect on the towering beast. The skin beneath Sierra's blazer felt muscular and tense, hardly flinching against the volley of punches.

"Hmmm, maybe a little experiment," Sierra leaned forward, wrapping her arms around the woman's torso tightly to stop the fighting before locking lips.

Unable to process what was happening, Amber felt a tongue suddenly forced into her mouth. It wiggled around, gliding across her teeth and playing with her own tongue. She completely melted, her arms falling to her sides as Sierra gave Amber one of the best kisses of her life. When it ended, Amber could barely support her own body weight and slumped onto the lid of the toilet.

Nothing was said for a while, Sierra listening to the mystery woman flush and wash her hands while Amber still tried to come to terms with what happened. "Just as I had thought," Sierra finally said when she heard the bathroom door closed and confirmed that they were alone again, "Into both men and women."

"Am not!" Amber argued, quickly standing to defend herself.

"Really?" Sierra sighed, almost as if she was over the whole thing, "You're really going to keep lying? I already told you; I'm practically drowning the smell of your sopping pussy right now. You can say whatever you want with your words, but your body doesn't lie."

"I'm not w-" Before Amber could get the word 'wet' out of her mouth, Sierra's hand was on her pussy. The woman cupped Amber's burning mound, massing it through the denim of her jeans. Although seemingly not satisfied -- or perhaps just trying to prove her point -- Sierra wasted no time forcing her hand down the front of the woman's pants and into her panties.

Amber bit her tongue as she felt fingers spreading her labia, allowing the flood of pussy juice that had been building within her folds to come pooling out into her panties. "Hrgh," she groaned, fighting to close her eyes and let out an orgasmic moan.

Satisfied, Sierra slid out her hand showed off the glistening flesh. "Soaking. Wet." With each word, she sucked a finger clean as if to further punctuate her point, "I'm surprised it hasn't already seeped through your jeans." Sliding the latch on the stall door, she strutted to the sink with the walk of a supermodel, fixing the few strands of hair in the mirror that had been jostled free by Amber's pitiful self-defense.

Still trying to get a hold over what had just happened, Amber took longer to leave the stall. Shuffling her feet across the tile, she joined the woman at the sinks. "What you just did in there? That was sexual assault," Amber said proudly.

"I didn't hear you complaining," Sierra replied nonchalantly, pulling out a tube of chapstick from her slacks and applying a heavy coat to her lips.

"What- I...?" Amber was flabbergasted, "I was physically pushing you off and punching you!? And that's ignoring the numerous times I told you to stop verbally!"

"Mm-hm," Sierra mimicked kissing in the mirror, returning her chapstick to her pocket, "Yet, you let me do everything. And then there are all the signs your body was giving off. Do I need to put my hand back down your pants?" she turned to face the girl.

The sudden eye contact through Amber off her game, the girl subconsciously taking a step back to get further away from the six-foot creature that stood before her. "I- that wasn't-" she struggled to find the right words, "I can't control that! Getting... wet... is an automatic response. It doesn't mean I was aroused."

"True, but I knew you were. Or, I guess, still are," Sierra took a little sniff of the air, "Just like how I knew you liked shit."

"I never said that!"

"Oh, so it is true," Sierra said offhandedly, "Glad to see I've still got it."

Amber could feel her stomach stirring as she realized one of her best-kept secrets had just been discovered by what was essentially a stranger. Still, Sierra might have been joking, and her secret was still safe. "Still got what?" she asked, trying to change the subject.

Intentionally ignoring Amber's question, Sierra gave her hands a quick rinse before rubbing them dry with a paper towel. Checking her appearance in the mirror once more, she turned on her heels and gave the woman one last look over. Slipping a hand into her bust, Sierra pulled out a white card and handed it to Amber.

"What is this?" she turned over the piece of cardstock and read the gold lettering.

"My business card."

"OK, why?"

"So you can call me later," Sierra sighed, annoyed that she had to spell out such a simple concept.

Amber narrowed her eyes, "I'm not going to call you."

"Whatever," Sierra shrugged, tossing her crumpled paper towel in the garbage before making her way to the door. "That's what they all say," she mumbled before returning to the offices, leaving Amber alone in the bathroom once again.

Taking time to contemplate what to do next, she traced her fingers along the indented word on the business card; "Sierra" The lack of a last name confused Amber, especially given it was a business card. Logically you would include your surname, but from their short time together in the bathroom, Amber knew that Sierra was anything but logical.

She was very tempted to just throw the card into the garbage and be done with it but, for whatever reason, Amber found her hand shaking as she held it over the bin. Unable to relieve herself of the seemingly insignificant piece of paper, she instead slipped it into the pocket of her jeans before giving her hands a rinse and leaving the bathroom.