tagSci-Fi & FantasyBetween Armageddon & a Hard Place Ch. 01

Between Armageddon & a Hard Place Ch. 01



You know the generic information; if under the age of 18, don't read the bloody thing. Like that has stopped kids in the past in the first place? Anyhow. This starts with a good deal of sex, but tames down some, because it has an actual plot to go along with it too! Imagine that, a story with a plot? Well anyhow, it has a mix match of several types of groupings to be bunched up all into one. I'm not going to list them just yet since they will probably be too numerous to count, or at least I hope so.

If you got past this without rolling your eyes once, or skipped over this in the first place, then you missed a poorly written triad about nothing except you've been warned.


Chapter 1: Sam

As most stories start with, we start with our "Hero," well here, we don't, this isn't like any other story you've read so far, and this is my story. So we start with the bad guy, the evil doer, hell lets just get down to it, and lets just say she isn't the type of woman you'd like to bring home to Mom, Dad, or even a Stag Party, she'd rip your guts out for looking at her the wrong way and call it a productive day, and that is if she is in a good mood.

So you got an idea of her tempter, lets get down to her as a person now, if you can call her that is. She stands at five feet even, and she prefers it that way too, easy access to what she likes the most about guys in the first place, or so she says. Her skin is nearly alabaster white, and it isn't because she doesn't spend time outside, this is how she portrays herself in this lifetime. Yes, you read right, this lifetime. She is older than she looks by several centuries, although no one knows her true age, she is old enough to remember when the Romans were just starting in small clay domiciles, and even further than that if she ever dared to reminisce. Her eyes, a steel grey, they are the only sign of her age, they are hard, and piercing, and although she smiles, and laughs, her eyes always portray another story. She would be considered lithe in build, all except for her feminine attributes.

At five feet even, and vixen red hair with raven black tips that caress her ass when she walked, she would make any woman envious, jealous, or sympathetic of her "plight," and any man wanting to see more, much more... having wide and firm hips, with a tight and strong looking ass, always got the men looking, once they reached her bust though, whiplash, and rubbernecking had an a tendency to occur. She used her body's attributes to get what she wanted when she wanted it, and she had no sympathy upon doing so either. Men were to be used, and not loved.

Her hands were small, but had strength to them that very few noticed, because the fingers were adorned with jewelry. Her fingernails were pointed to a slight tip, in where if she wanted to, she could use them as weapons, but mainly she used them to draw blood from her latest sexual conquest. They were always painted in black, blood red, or both, which were her favorite, it was easy in this century to find someone who could do this, it was such a pain back a few hundred years ago. Her legs were tone, very strong, but kept their femininity to them. Through history she has received several tattoos, and multiple piercings along her body, it is amazing what was once taboo is now considered sexy, and provocative she mused several times as she watched several men's eyes glitter at she described where they were in detailed descriptions. Oh and for your information, she has a name, but she goes by the name Sam now, the rest will be explained later on.

She enjoyed the hunt, enjoyed the challenge, enjoyed the looks of betrayal that her prays' lover, husband, or wife, has as she takes them away for a night of unimaginable sexual lust, and bliss, or at least that is what they remember. Today was like any other night or so she thought, sitting on a plush bed with blood red silk sheets, covering a black satin bed, Sam looked across the bed, her latest conquest. On her scale he was a four maybe a five, which was high in this day and age, men lacked imagination, the aggressiveness that once gripped their soul, their hearts, and their libido. She loved to be ravaged, loved to be taken advantage of, or let the man think she was being taken advantage of that is. She played the victim well, she loved letting men think she was the submissive, someone who loved being told what to do. In all honesty, a small part of her did, but in truth, she was always in control, and tonight was no exception.

He was easy to manipulate; getting him out of the dance club from his girlfriend was child's play. Of course, once he saw the cleavage she was sporting, the tell tale signs of lust and the ever protruding hard-on always made life so much easier. Teasing his libido with forbidden sexual promises, and things she would let him do to her, was nearly all it took. The girlfriend started to rebel, and attempted to get "her man" back, but it was a waste of time. Once the guy or girl was in Sam's hands, they were hers to play with as she found fit. When the guy wakes up tomorrow, and she isn't there, the spell will be broken, and he will be begging for forgiveness later on from his probably now ex.

The guy in her "Seduction bed" wasn't a prime specimen of what today's man can be, but she never went for the all brawn, no brain studs, for her imagination and some experiences were more rewarding. Sure, the average stud could go hours upon hours of slamming into her pussy until he was worn out, but why bother? That is what a dildo or one of her slaves was for. She looked at his back and grinned; her mark was there, nearly twenty lines of "claw" marks on his back that will indefinitely take some time to heal.

Her nails slowly sliding up and down the inner thigh of his leg, seeing whether she can still get a reaction out of him; she smiles as she sees his cock twitch in an attempt to get hard. She begins a quiet chant and slowly blows some cold air onto his cock; it starts to become hard as she wraps her hand around it. She muses as she watches it grow as her ministrations start to take effect. It becomes a little larger than what he came in with, but the spell will only last the night, but that is all she needs him for. One night of pleasure will feed her needs for at least a day or two, it really matters how much sexual energy she can cull from her "lover" at that given time.

No, she isn't a succubus but one of the reasons she has lived as long as she has, has given her the abilities or at least a limited version of what a succubus can do. It was a part of her life she would rather forget, but living as she has is a constant reminder of whom she is and what is expected of her when the time comes. Which often she hopes never will, for she can die; which if she does, breaks her mortal coil, but condemns her to a place she would rather never have to see. If she does, what is expected of her, there is a slim chance of redemption, but there are never any guarantees. No one ever said living was easy.

The guy's cock has nearly inflated to its normal size, but as she continues to chant his cock starts to take on a thicker and longer look, the veins becoming more prominent as the skin becomes taut. She licks the tip and is rewarded with a dollop of precum, it normally is a little bitter, but with her enchantment it can taste from anything between the finest white wine from the French vineyards, to the tenderest lobster just caught and prepared by some of the top chefs in the world, to the sweetest chocolate any mortal lips have ever tasted. Every cock is different under this enchantment, but she is never disappointed, for not only does it change the size of the cock, the flavor of cum, but also it produces much more volume, which is exactly what she is after.

As she slowly starts to stroke his cock, she can feel him building up already; Sam sighs realizing that men don't last as long as they use to, she reduces the power of her spell, and slides her tongue down the length of his cock. If anyone saw her do this, they would think that she had surgery to make her tongue as long as it is, but it is another of her "blessings". Her mouth slowly envelops the guy's cock, she begins to twist her tongue around his cock and vibrates her mouth around it, sucking with her lips up and down the shaft tasting and smelling the musk that is coming from her man this night.

The guy which is Sam's conquest for the night is named Dave, nothing fancy, just Dave; she never asked for his name, and he never offered it to her, so they will remain anonymous for their meeting. Although Dave had a girlfriend, and a rather fetching one at that, the minute he saw Sam he couldn't take his eyes off hers, when he did that was only to look at the vast amount of cleavage she was sporting for the whole world to see. Dressed black and red corset, which looked to be cinching her waist rather painfully, and pushing up her vast breasts to everyone to see without shame, she sauntered up to him and whispered the words all men want to hear but never admit it, "I'll show you a night you'll never forget or regret for the rest of your life." His girlfriend attempted to push between them, to claim Dave as hers, but Sam and Dave never looked back, or acknowledged that she was even there, and Dave's girlfriend screamed in rage and threats, but they fell of deaf ears, and the two crossed the floor, she wasn't heard by either one of them.

Now Dave was slowly waking up, passed out from unimaginable sex, he was feeling this unknown woman's mouth and tongue caressing his cock. Did it look bigger than he remembered? It didn't matter for the minute he stopped looking at her head and cock working like a piston he noticed something odd about her. She studied his eyes as she realized he was awake and they were not the hypnotic steel grey he remembered but an emerald green, almost ebbing with power. He heard her speak without saying a word with her mouth, "Sleep lover, tomorrow is another day." Dave's eyes started to close, he saw with lidded eyes little horns protruding from her hair, and large pair of wings sprouting from her back, and a rather thick tail grows from her wide ass. The last thing he heard and felt was her saying," Sleep." and his orgasming into her mouth.

Chapter 2: Unforeseen Consequences

Sam awoke in her normal bed; her "lover" wasn't there, he left this morning, after seeing that she was gone. She wasn't, she was just in another room, which was hidden, no man or woman ever says longer than a night, it is a curse, and a blessing of the magic she uses. Sometimes she wished that they would be stronger than the magic and stayed, but that hasn't happened in just shy of over four hundred years. The last was William Shakespeare, although happily married Sam knew of plenty of artists, writers, and politicians had mistresses. Back then it wasn't unexpected, sure she was the cause of his early death, but neither argued, and the sex was good for that century. What shocked her was that he actually stayed, he didn't seem to be an unusual character, sure, he had a great mind, but there were no tell tail signs of him being unusual in any other way.

With a smirk, she reminisced on that history never said where he died when he did, what many people didn't know, or refused to let his name to be besmirched by, but he was with her. His final words were, a scream of orgasmic pain and pleasure wrapped into one, he clasped himself around her, his final orgasm launched itself into her womb, and his heart just stopped. She knew that being with her as long as he did would take him to an early grave, but he never listened to her; telling him to leave and not come back for his own life might be forfeit if they continue. He thought it ridiculous, but she knew otherwise, for each night with her takes a little life from the person she is with, even with her knowing how to control that part of her, it was still a part that demanded some part of her victims, even if it were a little of their life force a bit at a time. She learned to control that trait the hard way.

Sam got up looked at the clock and swore she was sure to be late; the alarm clock never went off since it looked like power went out the night before. She put on her terrycloth robe and went to the bathroom that was adjoined to the hidden room. The bathroom was nothing special to her, just a place to wind down that night if her lover didn't match her libido, which more often than not was the case. It was adorned to the ceiling with Greek tiles from 200BC, the wash basin was from the Romans around 140BC, and the tub was the only thing new that and the fogless mirror in the shower, the tub she acquired from the reign of Coagula was in her normal bathroom, she always insisted it was a duplicate, but she knew better. It was a deep tub encased in glass paneling, with multiple shower heads to hit her in all directions, it made it easier than to worry about missing something that may be embarrassing in her line of work.. Especially since she liked to keep her nightlife and her work life separated if possible, which she was very successful at doing.

She shed her robe as it pooled around her feet, and turned on the TV for background noise. The shower hitting all sides of her simultaneously was invigorating, but for some reason something felt off, she didn't know what it was, but it was there, she ignored the feeling and shook her hair so it would lie flat on her back as the water hit it. Her hair was a mess from last night, but again it should be expected especially since she was the aggressor. Rivulets of water dripped down her hair caressed her full ass, and trickled down to the cleft of her pussy, causing an itch that would need to be taken care of eventually. Sam sighed as the tickling became increasingly annoying with no intentions of stopping by the looks of it. Normally, this would be amusing but as late as she was this was frustrating because she probably wouldn't have time to take care of this issue as she liked to call it sometimes.

Sam grabbed the shampoo bottle, poured our copious amounts, she hated how much shampoo, and conditioner she went through sometimes, it was a curse and a blessing, a blessing because it made heads turn, a curse because the cost of upkeep was astronomical. After she lathered her hair up she picked up the conditioner, as she was saying it was expensive to upkeep her hair, she needed more conditioner... Sam rinsed out her hair from the shampoo, emptied out the conditioner, and threw the bottle into the trash barrel. Her nails dug deep into her hair and caressed her scalp, she always hated fall and winter, her scalp dried up way too quickly... the caressing of her nails felt wonderful, but she needed to be attentive to the rest of her body, or last night's endeavor may be noticeable, if she weren't careful.

She took some body wash and a sponge and started on her arms and legs, looking for any marks that may be noticeable, also ignoring for now the most sensitive parts of her body. Seeing no marks in the fogless mirror she started to go to her belly, this part of her always seemed to be ignored by her lovers, yet, it was sensitive in its own way; she shivered as she touched it with her nails gently. She carefully went upwards and began to caress and soap up her breasts, this part always got her going, but she needed to clean them, for the last thing she needed was another man's smell on her body. Her areole crinkled at the touch and her nipples hardened. Sam bit her lower lip and moaned, this was getting out of control, but her body didn't care, she needed to be pleased, especially after being teased like this. Her hand dropped the sponge, and she started to pinch her nipple with her fingernails, her other hand went to her pussy and started to caress it gently, never entering it, but hoping this would be enough to take the edge off. Her pussy clenched around her finger and sucked it in, and begun to suck on it as if it were another cock entering her. Sam's hand that was caressing her breast shot against the glass, she closed her eyes concentrating on the feeling, and she let out a deep guttural almost feral moan, she was loosing control, her nails started to elongate and her hips started to grind and buck... she was so close from the simulation. Her eyes shot open, removed her finger and adjusted her pussy so it was like a normal pussy. Breathlessly Sam was thinking, "I didn't change my pussy to do that last night, what the hell?"

Before she could think about this more the water from the showerheads got cold, Sam let out a squeal of shock, and hurriedly washed out her hair, swore and got out of the shower before she got any colder. She was really going to have to get a tankless water heater; she really hated running out of hot water. She quickly toweled off, got dressed in a two piece suit and hurried out for work. Sam forgot to turn off the TV, it said to no one in particular, "...and it looks as if we get a special Halloween in two weeks time ladies and gentlemen, for some reason without any real explanation from NASA, they seemed to of missed the lunar eclipse that is to happen that night. NASA representatives had no comment for the event..." Sam got to the driveway, and jumped into her red Shelby Cobra GT500, put the pedal to the floor and peeled out to the street hoping to make up time for this morning.

Sam worked at the local museum, using nothing less than her own skills to get there, at least the skills of her "grandmother" that is, which through generous donations, and the stipulation that Sam was given the opportunity to work at the museum, they would maintain ownership of the items in question. If Sam were fired, the donations would be revoked and given to Sam to do as she thought fit. In four years time Sam became the youngest curator of the museum in its 250 year history. She smirked for she remembered back that far when the museum was being built, she was paid by the workers to service them on their lunch shifts, she did enjoy those times there were a lot less hassles to worry about back then too, minus the worries of being claimed she was a witch that was, but none the less it was a fun time to her.

Sam ran into the hallway that her office was situated at the end of, straightened out her suit and walked slowly to her office, she was late, she didn't need to look like a fool being late, at least that is what she though at the time. Today would be a busy day anyway; they were going to open a wing in honor of her late "grandmother". Lauren, her secretary was giving Sam the "You're late look," and sighed as Lauren smiled at her boss. Sam greeted her secretary named Lauren, "Morning Lauren, I know I'm late, can you get me a tea, cream two sugar, and tell everyone we will be starting the ceremony punctually today at 1:00 so no one make late lunch plans or it will be their job, ok?" Lauren nodded and got up from her desk, and quickly went to get the tea, it would take her about ten minutes, so Sam had time to reminisce in her office if she so choose to do so.

Laura was a cute girl, but nothing really to write home about compared to Sam that was. Of course, that didn't stop the girl from going out and partying as well, which was all, and good, as long as it didn't interfere with her daily work, which so far it hasn't. Sam smiled remembering when she sat at that desk, it seemed like ages ago.

Sam sat down at the desk and looked around her office, everything in there was part of her life, half the reason she was allowed to also be a curator was because she seemed to know more than most of the aged professors about most European and Ancient Mediterranean history, the other half is that she came back with some absolutely amazing artifacts when she went to specific areas, it was as if she knew exactly where to look for them. The fact was she did, because she was digging up her old lives to supply new materials for the museum, at least until she retired that was. There were several suits of armor, including a suit of Samurai armor made for a woman, and a set of swords that went along with the armor. Those times were the most perilous to her, she had to not only prove she could handle a sword, but do so as good as, or better than any man, which was a feat unto itself. It has been one of the only complete suits found for a woman ever. There were gowns made of fine silk behind glass, and a large chest that had the contents of her original life. The desk she was sitting at was a gift from King Henry VIII; she was one of his many lovers when he left England for business purposes. He gave her the desk in hoping to impress her, to be more to him than a mistress, she never took the bait, but the desk did get some use, the only use they got out of it though was proven by the scratch marks from her nails that were on the sides of the desk, under neither the lip of it. She pulled a drawer out and saw an old leather bag; she opened it and saw it contained coins from a bygone era. There was a metallic ring, tarnished, but with an engraving on it saying, "Your forever." She smiled, for it was the ring she was to be given when she married.

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