Curses Ch. 11

Chapter 10 - Succubus

After our shower, and just a little more play, it was time to leave for our sex-capades. Oli, having been thoroughly blow-dried, led me out the door. Or, more accurately, she towed me, since she was still on her leash. The both of us were still bare-assed, although she had the benefit of her fur coat. Still, to be fair, her big red labia fairly screamed 'FUCK ME'. Once we were on the sidewalk, she reminded me that we could 'cloud the minds of passersby', as she put it - supposing we felt like it.

After crouching to grope her inviting pussy, for luck, I put my end of the leash in her mouth, and we split up. She sashayed, still on all fours, to the left - to visit her werewolf. Good luck with that, I thought. I assumed that Mr. Shagswell was just some guy - since fantasy was our calling - but, given how my world view had been forcibly expanded, I knew he might be the real deal.

Meanwhile, comfortably starkers, I marched off in the opposite direction. I had no idea what to expect ... Oli had neglected to fill me in on what my engagement with this Richard Rutsall, or whatever his name was, entailed.

The pebbles were annoying at first, but my feet were soon hardened to it. By the end of the first block, my clopping footsteps were echoing off the sleeping houses. Apart from my feet, I could feel a few other changes (although you will have probably observed that I'd already passed the point of noticing most of them). My shins were itching, and something was going on with my back - but mostly what I sensed was that, at this pace, it would take me hours to walk there and back.

"Screw this," I announced to the night and, spreading my wings wide, I sprang straight up into the moonlit sky.

Spiraling up, I could see Captain Jim's house, and then the little park where Roger had first fucked me. I could also see my long, distorted and hoofed feet, my now shaggy shins, and my strongly beating bat-like wings. It was fair to assume I also had horns, but given my arms were free just now, I felt my head anyhow. Yup - there they were. My client wanted some interaction with a demon. And to judge by my ramped-up urge to fuck the essence out of somebody, and the way my cunt lips glowed like stoked coal embers, I was pretty certain that I'd become a succubus.

Fair enough. I imagined demons were less than punctual, and that the wait would do Rick some good, so I took a sightseeing swing over town. My night vision was totally great, and I was already 'booked', so I dropped back down to rooftop level to peek in alleys and windows. Although I scoped out a variety of dirty deeds done in the dark, the lack of hands-on action - that is to say, MY idle hands - quickly sent me on my way to my assignation.

Putting the city lights to my back, I flew for the flashing red cell tower light that marked my destination. Gaining elevation again, I made good time - as the raven flies, as you might say. When I got to Harlot Hill (or whatever) I swooped low over a gate promising in wrought iron 'RAMSGOOD' - thinking, right, that's the name - and up a tree-lined drive to the sizable manor I'd seen on my flight path in. Only one room was lit, and that by a single candle. So far, so good.

But in spite of there being a half dozen rooms sporting balconies with leaded-glass doors, this wasn't one of them. Instead it had a trio of smallish windows, and I was obliged to hover at the one which was open a crack, so as to pull it wide. Even then, I couldn't just fly through. Rather I was obliged to perch in a crouch on the sill, and glare demonically at the doofus who must have thought this was amusing.

Clouds had hidden the moon (I think I may have brought them to me) but the candle's light - and the glow from my lava-like cunt - gave more than enough light for me to see inside. My target was fast asleep in the middle of a big bed; whereas if I was going to invite hell-spawn around, even fantasy ones, I'd probably be wide awake in anxious anticipation. He seemed normal enough - quite good-looking, actually. His sheets were kicked off and, to judge by his invitingly tall cock-stand, I felt sure he was dreaming of me.

The first order of business was to get inside. I tried folding my wings, which made me way too tall to fit. Finally, I swung them directly behind me and leaned forward. I expected to land face-first onto the floor, but while a succubus can't turn to vapor like Dracula, I'm here to tell you that she can waft like a thistle if the mood (or fear of concussion) takes her.

Bugger this bullshit, I thought, as I hung horizontally near the floor. I'm gonna leave this joint by the front fucking door.

I sorted my shit out at the foot of Dick's bed, and realized that there was room enough to spread my wings wide. It turned out that either another of my skills was to sedate my victim with my mind, or this dude was able to sleep through both a falling lamp and a breaking vase. Whatever. Now there definitely was enough room. One gentle flap and I was standing astride my prey's plump prick, lighting it up with my burning cunt and feeling very much the carnal-energy feeding monstress.

After savoring the moment, I settled myself onto Dick's cockhead and, once having it lodged comfortably in my notch, I drove down on the thing to take all the rest in one exhilarating plunge. That woke him, and he looked up at me, eyes wide in terror. It was so convincing I had to remind myself that this was a monthly gig for him. And his cock, which was throbbing inside my pussy furnace, agreed.

So I proceeded with the agenda, giving him a suitably evil grin (enhanced by the sulfurous smoke trickling from all my orifices) before commencing to buck and plunge on his sizable member. My scalding juices made that appendage a slippery devil but, once his whimpering had reached the desired level, I used my pussy muscles at the bottom of a down-stroke to clamp onto the entirety of it.

Oh, yeah! I tipped my head back, silently exalting, and then I began to beat the air with my leathery wings. My pussy being locked tightly onto his cock, I lifted Dick off his palatial bed. He was light enough, but a bit top-heavy, so I sank my claw-like fingernails into in his shoulders. Once his back was clear of the mattress, I wrapped my long prehensile tail (which I'd totally failed to notice) around his waist, and used it to pull him deeper inside me.

He didn't hold out for long. I soon felt the sensation of his cooling cum as it surged up into my molten core - a fountain of life. His energy, and his seed, fed my own huge orgasm, and I think I may have shot sparks out of my ears. And, probably, out of my ass. Certainly there were bits of carpet smoldering, and so was the mattress directly below us.

So that was intense.

Wait - how can I see directly below? There was no Dick underneath me. Fucking hell, I thought, with no intended irony. Yet I could still feel his engorged cock inside me, and see the mass of it swelling my belly. Fuck! I'd got carried away and eaten him, or maybe absorbed him. I dropped to the bed (avoiding the still smoking bit) and leaned down to inspect where he wasn't.

And there he was - sort of. A pair of fat testicles spread my glowing pussy lips wide. Without any further thought, I took a firm grip on them and pulled. The rest of what was left of Dick was just that - a dick so big that it took me some effort to shift him. By the time I had hauled about three quarters of him out of me, my cunt lips were flaming around his veiny circumference, and smoke was roiling out of my nostrils.

It probably goes without saying that I drove him back inside. And then, not least because of his pressure on my bladder, I pissed out the various fires - as one does. Then I proceeded to use him as a fuck toy for ... well, it might have been hours. I sort of lost track. I know that at some point I flew straight through the window, unconsciously folding my wings back and then plunging twenty feet before pulling up and launching myself skyward. No wafting now.

And all the while I continued to pump and twist Dick deep in and out of me. On the out strokes, I could see that my still fiery cunny didn't seem to do him any harm; presumably it was some arcane sex demon thing, or maybe I had fire resistant pussy lube. As I cranked Dick-the-dildo around inside, I flew higher until I was looping around the communication tower light like a moth to flame. Only, I was the one flaming, by now brighter than the red beacon I was orbiting.

Even as another wicked orgasm began to build, I felt a twinge of curiosity. This was Dick's fantasy, not mine. What was he getting out of this? A total body fuck, certainly, but in the dark. Probably some vertigo, too, what with my hard turns and dives.

Anyway, that's when my first-rate lube displayed a down side (so to speak), since he fell straight out of me. It was just inertia, really - I had performed another plummeting fall, and then hammered him with g-forces on the rebound. Luckily for him, I caught him as he shot free ... with my tail, using it to grip one of his testicles. He spun in mad arcs under me as I flew back up to the light.

But when his knob had first cleared my pussy, outbound, I saw goggling eyes fitted on either side of his wee cock lips, and guessed that this was maybe more than he'd expected. I hoped so, anyway. When I again reached the elevation of the tower beacon, I stopped abruptly and hovered. Thanks again to inertia, he continued up, and I performed an aerial maneuver that involved catching his rising head and pivoting it back into my waiting cunt.

With his knob-head lodged home, I swung the rest of him up and - critically - back inside me, so that I could channel the adrenaline charge of the past thirty seconds into my impending come. I felt much better about Rickie when he obliged me with another great gloopy blast of his essence - a cum that was, amazingly, superior to his previous one, and that totally put me over the edge. I performed a back flip that sent us yet again tumbling and ground-bound.

Well, more sparks and flames ensued from pretty well everywhere, inexplicably including, this time, my eyes. Good thing there's a heavy dew this morning, I thought, proving that there was still some latent good in me ... and also that I was running late.

This time I had the hang of flying straight through that little window. I swooped over to land on his bed and stood there, my legs spread wide. Then, using my tail, I extracted my phallic interloper to splash at my feet in a flood of excess cum. He seemed to be sound asleep - or unconscious, maybe. At least his creepy glans-eyes were closed and, with the dreamy half smile on his tiny lips, he looked like a perfectly peaceful living dildo. As peaceful as an iron-hard sentient cock could be considered to be, anyhow.

While it was utterly pointless to resort to physics to explain any recent events, I tried to reason with myself that Dick was so stiff because, obviously, he was still engorged with blood (which, among many other things, failed to take into account the impressive volume of cum he had only just spent).

Now that my mind had started wandering - which I'd noticed seemed to happen after a run of extended orgasms - I briefly wondered if he would stay this way, like some of Olivia's other regulars. Assuming this happened every month, it obviously wore off. But that could take weeks. What he would find to eat? Stiff as he was, could he crawl around the place like a giant inchworm (or yard-worm, more like)?

Purely out of curiosity (truly not caring if today was Dick's lucky day to permanently remain a real prick) I rolled him onto what passed for his face. Looking quite randomly for clues, I poked the back of his 'neck' ... and watched his skin finally smoke as my touch branded a pentangle onto him.

This was new.

It would be interesting, I thought, to see if this was also permanent. And, if he eventually regained his human form, would he see my mark on his cock? Or would it be on the back of his actual neck? My preference was for both. Whereas, if he remained a dick...

I saw no point in hanging around to find out.

Standing up, I turned to take off when I noticed a Real Clue, over by the open bathroom door. There sat a nearly empty bowl of bits, with a sack of kibble alongside - the word 'cat' on the package having been over-struck by 'COCK'.

Sighing, I topped up the bowl, and checked the nearby water supply. This consisted of a five-gallon jug upended on a tank, from which hung a hose with a rubber nipple at the end. Sorry now that I'd ever wondered about how he was going to survive the next few weeks, I tried (unsuccessfully) not to visualize the details.

Anyhow, there was lots of water in the jug for the prick. Forgetting my earlier vow to leave out a proper door, I launched myself the hell back out the window and set a course for home.