Meeting My Succubus Ch. 03

I realised that her mouth was too small and my cock too large for this to be a realistic option. The symbolism of her submission had been achieved but we were ready to move onto the next stage. I even felt a tiny twinge that one of my favourite activities, eating out her pussy, was not right for this occasion.

However, there was one thing that was needed.

"Lick the precum from my cock and swallow it down like a good girl." I loved the fact that we both knew what would result from her doing that.

After a brief hesitation on her part, she licked the head of my cock with her delightfully tiny tongue, careful to get to every drop of the clear liquid, and I saw the graceful movement of the muscles in her throat as she swallowed.

Lifting her head off my cock I said,

"Go and lay yourself on the bed, princess and wait for me to come and fuck you."

She got awkwardly to her feet and then uncertainly made her way to the bed. She removed her shoes and I let her, before she got onto the bed and laid back on the pillow.

I did not know what to expect in terms of how the precum would affect her, but it was certainly not what happened ... to me.

How to describe it? If you close your eyes and think of your body, become fully aware of each part, then you realise that some are far more sensitive than others. If you were to draw a picture of your body in proportion to how sensitive it is, then your hands and feet would be much bigger than they are in real life, and if you are man, then also your penis. People have already done this and if you want to you can look it up. It is called a sensory homunculus.

Now imagine if there was another limb that you had not noticed and suddenly it 'switched on' and you became aware of it. That would be pretty weird.

In this case a whole other body was gradually switching on. Like the lights in a city at dusk where lights slowly come on, in different parts at different times. Of course, what I am saying is only an analogy, in truth it is one of those things you would have to experience to understand. The last part to 'switch on' was Michelle's brain.

I got up and moved to the bed and I could feel her physical response to what she could see, the heightening of arousal, goose bumps on her upper arms, a tightening in her breasts, and then the collage of thoughts and feeling from her mind, mostly without words, but occasional fragments would float to the surface, such as 'Oh God, he is going to fuck me with that huge cock and I will never be the same again'.

There was a fascinating feedback loop being created. I could instantly sense how she responded to the smallest, gesture or movement of mine, as well as both what I said and the tone in which I said it. This allowed me to adjust what I did. I found myself getting onto the bed and crawling toward her with clearly predatory intent, and could immediately feel it making her nipples harder, her blush deeper and her pussy wetter, and her eyes flitting between my face and the threat of my approaching erect cock.

One thing I quickly realised was that in some ways I had a form of control over her that she did not possess herself. I could mentally 'press a button' and make the little pea-sized glands at the entrance to her vagina start working overtime. The sensation for her was as though her wetness was gushing from her pussy and in response she squeezed her thighs together in a vain attempt to stem the flow, or at least to make it less evident.

I laughed and said,

"There is no point in hiding it, we both know how wet you are getting for me, princess."

There was an adorably mortified look on her face as she realised just how much her response to me was something she could not hope to hide.

"Look on the bright side. It will make it so much easier for you to take my cock."

I reached out and firmly pushed her knees apart. Her mound was covered by a small area of soft curly black fur. She had one of those sweet neat little pussies where everything was pretty much hidden away, making even more visible the clear liquid that was oozing uncontrollably from it.

She gasped out loud when I unexpectedly leaned forward and took the nipple of her right breast in my teeth and gently, but not too gently, bit down on it. Then before she could properly process what was happening, I had pulled her head to one side and was kissing and marking her neck beneath her ear while the tip of my cock had arrived at is predestined place, nuzzling her entrance.

All this time I was presented with the array of her thoughts, vocalised or not, overlaying each other, yet perhaps clearer to me than they were to her. A strong thread was her telling herself that the idea of 'size matters' was nonsense, that if anything it would hurt, and in fact I could also sense that she actually wanted it to hurt. Also, she was telling herself that all the nerve endings were in the entrance and she would not be able to feel me further inside her vagina.

All this is most likely true to a large extent (excuse the pun), however it did not consider two important points. The first was that she was at the same time turned on by the idea of a long thick cock like mine. And the second was that I could control her response to me.

This meant that as I eased myself into her, I was able to adjust the multitude of physical reactions, as though I was adjusting the settings of a series of knobs. Thus, I dialled any trace of pain down to zero. I allowed a hint of discomfort to remain. The feeling of being stretched I even enhanced. The sensation of fullness was something I amplified, including the echo in her mind, giving her a picture of herself as being helpless while slowly being impaled on my manhood.

However of course, I steadily and mercilessly ramped up the sensation of physical pleasure she was experiencing at the slow but implacable entry of my cock, pushing its way through her pussy. Even as she was reassuring herself that any stretching would be temporary, which is of course true, I planted the idea in her mind that I was maybe able to make changes to her in that way and really have it be permanent, so that she would not be able to feel a smaller cock, and I delighted in the way that thought aroused her even while it scared her.

Once I was already perhaps three inches inside her, I felt the involuntary clenching around me that she knew was a prelude to an orgasm. And I made sure it did not happen. I held it in place. On its way but never quite arriving.

It took a little time before she began to realise that I was doing this to her deliberately. At first, she tried to resist the desire to ask for her orgasm and even to beg, but then, with my help, her self-control failed.

"Please, let me cum, I need it," Michelle gasped out, her words punctuated by panting.

I smiled, looking into her eyes, and said,

"That depends on whether you are prepared to pay the price."

I already knew that she was not on any form of birth control, and that this was the point in her cycle when she was ovulating, when I said,

"If you cum then so will I, and I will put a baby in that belly of yours. I will knock you up."

She gasped aloud and at the same time clenched powerfully around me.

"If you want to cum then you have to ask me to make you pregnant. You will have to say the words."

As I said this I began to move once more gently into her and out. If I had not been holding her back Michelle would have been helpless to stop her orgasm once I raised her greatest taboo, but as it was, she was left hanging on the edge, desperate to cum but also desperate not to have me plant a child in her with all the shame and disgrace that would bring.

While this was happening, I was also slowly becoming aware that I was in some way feeding on her lust and arousal. It was not as if there were some new organ, some kind of parallel demonic stomach that was being filled, but rather the closest analogy was a sense that my body as a whole was basking in the feelings coming from her, as if it were some kind of equivalent to the rays of the sun. However, you would have to experience it to really understand, and you never will.

Michelle held out for what seemed to her like an eternity, even though in reality I think it was only a couple of minutes. As her resistance crumbled and she berated herself for considering paying such a price for an orgasm, I was aware of my seminal fluid building up ready for release, and being able to adjust the volume, which of course in this case I set to the maximum. I also knew how to open or close the 'tap' that would add my sperm to that mix.

She cracked.

"Please, just make me cum. I need it."

Still, I held her back. Both her body and her mind were now writhing, outside her conscious control.

"You know what you have to say, princess."

Just three days before, I could not have imagined behaving even remotely like this. Of course, part of it was my knowledge that it really was her biggest turn on, but in truth it was clear that I was changing, and I could not help but feeling a nagging disquiet at where it might end up. But it was a feeling I quickly put to one side.

"Please ... make me pregnant. Put your baby in my belly."

"It will be my pleasure ... princess."

With that I began the process of taking her at last to the promised land.

I took my time, steadily building it to ensure it was by far the strongest orgasm she had ever experienced. I also removed her ability to stop herself from crying out, ensuring that her cries and groans were loud enough, at least in her own ears, to be heard by the others in that house and leave them in no doubt as to what she was experiencing.

When she came Michelle lost all control of herself, shrieking and flailing her limbs, her eyes squeezed tight shut, and I made sure that it lasted, even as I also released my control over myself and came, releasing powerfully into her. Even though of course most often a woman cannot feel that at all I ensured that Michelle was acutely aware of her vagina being flooded with my semen.

Her orgasm finally over aside from a few aftershocks, I remained on top of her, and in her, as she slowly recovered. When she could speak again, she said,

"Oh, god. I should at least go and have a shower." I knew that she would want to do her best to remove as much as possible of my cum from her, if only to feel that she was at least doing something to reduce the chance of pregnancy.

"No, my princess, you are going to lie here with your feet up on the headboard to give my little swimmers the chance to complete the job, while I go and take a well-earned shower."

I could sense that she was shocked to discover that she literally could not disobey my direct order at that moment. She did as I told her, even while giving me a beseeching look and saying,

"Please ..." But I interrupted her.

"You just do as I say, princess, and I do not want to hear any more from you till I have showered and dressed."

As I left her lying there, I filled her mind with images of my spermatozoa making their way to her fertile egg, and enhanced the sensation of my cum in her vagina as well as the feeling of some of it trickling out.

I gathered my clothes and made my way to the en suite bathroom where I enjoyed a leisurely and luxurious shower, before towelling myself dry and dressing.

While I showered, I had a little time to ponder on what I had learned and experienced and it struck me that an advantage I might have over my predecessors was a better intellectual framework within which to understand my newfound powers. What could they have known of neurochemistry? Or of how information might be transmitted invisibly through the air, when they lived long before the invention of radio? It would also have been terribly psychologically damaging for someone with a religious worldview to find themselves transformed into one of what they saw as 'the damned'. Maybe I had a chance.

When I re-entered the room, Michelle was still lying where I had left her, her pretty little feet resting high on the headboard, with a substantial puddle having formed beneath her entrance. I could sense that her thoughts were becoming a little more anxious.

"You can sit up now, Michelle." I now used my normal voice and tone, indicating to her that the games were over.

As she moved herself around, slightly awkwardly, I then added,

"And by the way I did not make you pregnant. You can relax."

She gave an audible sigh of relief, then smiled and said,

"Wow. An ethical incubus."

She then got to her feet and came and gave me what was almost a chaste kiss before saying,

"Thank you, Adam, you just about fulfilled all my fantasies in one go. And at least now I have a much better understanding of the whole business. I guess you could call it field research!"

I laughed and took my leave, giving her a chance to shower and pull herself together before facing anyone.

Before entering the room where I had left Clara and The Lady, I took a moment to examine some of the pictures in the entrance hall. There were little inscriptions beneath them, and it turned out that they really were succubuses and incubuses, though there were far more of the former than the latter. Since the inscriptions also gave dates, it was evident that while most succubuses could expect to be around for centuries, it was exceedingly rare for an incubus to make thirty and as far as I could see none of them had reached fifty. Food for thought!

When I entered the room, Clara and The Lady gave me a small round of applause and The Lady even said,

"Bravo, you make a wonderful incubus, Adam. I love your imagination. And sensitivity."

My intuition told me that her knowledge of what had transpired in the room next door was not down to anything so mundane as cameras or microphones.

It was clear that it was time for us to leave, but before we departed The Lady said to me,

"Remember what I said about bears and wolves. We need them but it took a long time to realise that, and people still have to grasp that they need those like you and Clara. I like you and when you need help, I will be here for you."

With that we were back out on Cromwell Road and it was late evening. It was strange to see the ordinary world unchanged around us, with buses, taxis, cars and bikes going past and no sign of anything that hinted at the supernatural.

* * * * *

"So, did you put a baby in her belly?" Clara asked me playfully, when we were in bed that night and talking about Michelle.

"No!" I said, shocked.

Clara did not seem to pick up on my feelings and said,

"Why not?"

"Because I'm a bastard."

Although I was angry, I was also mystified that she did not seem to have learned of my feelings about this, when it was something so crucial to me, while she had learned of my liking for coffee through sampling my semen.

"Don't you mean because you're not a bastard?" She asked, clearly puzzled.

"No. I meant what I said. I am a bastard. My biological father got my mum pregnant, and then, after giving her a lecture on the evils of abortion, walked away."

Clara was beginning to pick up on how strongly I felt, and could sense the anger in my voice.

"So, the last thing I will ever do is inflict that on someone else."

I turned away, trying to calm down. After a pause, Clara said in a plaintive and rather small voice.

"I'm so sorry, Adam. Please forgive me, I'm not very good at this, and I can't bear it if you are angry with me ..."

I could hear the desperation in her voice and with some difficulty I put my anger to one side and turned over and held her.

"It's OK my love, I'm not angry with you, or at least not anymore. But you will have to get used to it. Couples sometimes disagree -- it does not mean they don't love each other."

I smiled at her and added,

"And it also means that we can have make-up sex ..."

Clara laughed and said,

"OK. I may be a beginner with this love business, but when it comes to sex ..."

With that she gently pushed me onto my back and slithered her way on top of me, seduction incarnate. She was in charge and I had no objection. It was exactly what I needed at that moment. There was a moment, when she lowered herself, achingly slowly, onto my cock, all the while gazing intently into my eyes, when I wondered at the fact that I was in love with a succubus, and she was the only woman I got to make love to. And at the same time, I was fucking other 'normal' women to fulfil their kinks and fantasies.

This was only a couple of days since we had met and it seemed that my life was like a runaway train, careering out of control.

I hoped that the next day might bring at least a slight slowing of pace, maybe even a chance to come to terms with how my life had changed.

I wondered what Monday morning would bring.