My Demon Succubus - Pt. 01

I really hope you like this story - it's my second one and in a different genre to the first one, so I'd appreciate your feedback to help me understand what works and what doesn't in order to make entertaining writing for you. This story is complete so will be uploaded over the coming days...

Prologue

I never considered myself to be a Casanova or Don Juan, or for that matter, a great lover of any kind. In fact in the romance department, I was distinctly average -- and if I was honest with myself -- less than average. My penis was a disappointment -- short and flaccid and swelling to a lacklustre five inches when erect. Of the few women that had accepted my offer of a cup of coffee (an old trope to lure them in) -- two had exclaimed at how short it was, giggling behind their hands, whilst a third had said that it was cute and non-threatening. None of them had returned to try it out a second time... but I digress ... the point of this part of the story was to explain that I was a pretty average guy. My name was Luke Coldrum. I lived in a quiet neighbourhood and worked at the central library located 10 miles away in the city. I went to church on Sundays and attended an art class in the evening. The only thing I would say that was slightly unusual about me is that I was a bastard child to a teenage mother. Two weeks after my birth she had put me up for adoption. I have no recollection of her and I had made no attempt to find her. Any mother who gives up on her child isn't worth it.

PART 1

I arrived at work at 9 am, or close to it. The library where I worked was a big one serving the city and surrounding small towns and villages. I had worked there for 10 years, starting at the front desk before graduating to junior, then assistant and finally senior cataloguer. My job was to ensure that our collection of books, journals, magazines, CDs, DVDs and audiotapes was up to date -- not to mention online digital resources. Each month I would research new material -- digital, visual and audio -- and decide which ones we should purchase on behalf of the taxpaying public.

I walked into the staff canteen to be greeted by Miss Brigitte Johnson who was our head librarian.

"Hello Luke, "she said pleased to see me. "Good weekend?"

"Not bad," I replied.

Miss Johnson wagged a chubby finger and said, "I bet a fit young man like you paints the town red at the weekend. Kiss the girls and make them cry, I bet."

I could never tell if she was teasing me or really meant it. She had worked at the library for as long as anyone could remember and in the last few years, as she neared retirement, she had become distinctly eccentric. I wasn't sure whether this was part of the ageing process or whether she simply didn't care anymore. She was the boss and she could do anything that she liked. She wore severe horn-rimmed half-moon reading glasses attached to a necklace and today sported a pink blouse and knee-length skirt.

Lately, she had begun wearing tighter more revealing tops that pushed her wrinkled breasts upwards and outwards.

"Oh look at the muck on this floor," she exclaimed, "I shall have that cleaning lady skinned alive, the little bitch."

Spotting a speck of dirt, she bent down to pick it up causing her enormous breasts to loll forward, wobbling and straining against the top button.

Miss Johnson had always spoken her mind, but of late, her open criticisms were punctuated with more and more choice words that caused uncomfortable silences in polite company. No one ever said anything though -- if one got on her wrong side she bore a grudge which more often than not resulted in the more junior person being fired or transferred. I didn't mind the odd expletive though and we got along fine. In fact, she had a soft spot for me, so much so that we were on first name terms.

"I hope you weren't looking at my breasts then or I'll have to report you for sexual abuse," she growled as she stood up.

My heart missed a beat.

"I'm sorry?"

My breasts, I saw you glance at them. Her face was expressionless.

"No Brigitte, I swear, I hardly noticed them." The room had suddenly become very hot and I felt a rising sense of panic.

"Just kidding, you should have seen your face," she laughed.

Relief flooded over me and I laughed too -- or at least I tried to given that my heart was in palpitations.

Just at that moment, Melody walked in.

"And who the hell do you think you are walking in at this time?" Miss Johnson barked.

Melody stopped in her tracks. This was only her second week and she had not yet been on the receiving end of Miss Johnson tongue.

"Melody miss, I didn't..."

"Melody miss," Miss Johnson cut in, pantomiming her in a squeaky voice. "It's just my second-week miss, so I thought I could turn in late."

I wanted to help Melody. I was her mentor and we were getting along quite well until I had given her an impromptu hug by the photocopier as a reward for getting all the French political history filing reorganised. In my mind, she would have blushed sweetly with her soft breasts nuzzling up against my chest, but as it turned out, the hug had become rather awkward and after that, she had avoided me for the rest of the week.

"If you're late again, then don't bother turning up," Miss Johnson said. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Brigitte," Melody piped.

"Miss Johnson to you, now get on with your work. No time for coffee."

"You need to keep them in line Luke, a girl like that needs to be put over your knee and spanked.

You need to show them who's boss," Miss Johnson said.

"I'm not sure we're allowed to do that," I replied meekly.

"If I say you can do it, then you can bloody well do it. Do you think anyone is going to believe her word over mine? I've worked here for the best part of 40 years with a perfect record." She paused for breath. "No, if she steps out of line again, then I want you to march her into my office and bend her over your knee? Do you hear? Teach that young hussy a lesson. A good ass spanking will put her straight."

I smiled weakly at Miss Johnson not knowing what to say. Was she fucking with me again? No -- her face was deadly serious, contorted with rage, her arms waving animatedly as she spanked an imaginary girl, causing her great sagging tits to jig about under the thin cotton blouse.

"I'll keep an eye on her," I said.

"You know, her mother, she was a right tramp in her day," Miss Johnson continued. "She had men hanging off both arms. I'd be surprised if the girl knew who her own father was, not that that's any excuse for coming into work late."

Miss Johnson had piqued my interest so I asked in my most innocent voice," So if Melody steps out of line, you want me to march her into your office?"

"Yes, I do," she said, emphasising the last two words. "You march her right in and bend her over your knee and spank her pretty little bottom until it is black and blue. That's what we did in my day. Down with the knickers and a good firm hand."

The thought aroused me and I felt my flaccid cock swelling. Melody had a great ass -- being of the younger generation she tended to wear figure-hugging jeans. On her first day she had worn hot pants but much to my disappointment, she received a warning that she was violating the dress code. Still, I could imagine that tight ass pressing into those pants and those pert little boobs beneath her T-shirt. They were small enough that she didn't really need a bra and thinking back when I hugged her, I was fairly sure that I didn't feel strap.

"Well I must be going," I said, partly to hide my growing erection, and partly because I had to take delivery of this month's stock order. The stock came in several large cardboard boxes and was delivered to the staff reading room where they could be unpackaged, checked and catalogued. The room had floor to ceiling windows looking out onto a lawned area. I entered the room and I activated the automated blinds so that the bright sunlight didn't blind me as it shone over my shoulders and reflected off the glossy pages. I sat down and started unpacking the books but couldn't get the thought of Melody's tight ass out of my head. I felt a warm glow in my nether regions as I imagined her bent over the photocopier.

"For Christ's sake Luke, she's half your age," I said to myself.

The first book out of the box was a treatise of ancient Greek warfare and after briefly checking it for defects, I pulled out the next one which was a colour atlas of nude paintings.

My penis was still semi-rigid and on opening the pages, I couldn't help but be titillated by an image of a Rubenesque woman lying artfully on a Chaise Longue with her hand barely concealing her vagina. Melody's pert little ass draped over my lap insinuated itself into my imagination, and unable to concentrate, I unbuttoned my trousers. With the pressure released, I felt myself swell. My mind wandered from Melody's tight backside to Miss Johnson's heaving tits. In my aroused state even they exited me. My hand began to rub up and down, and with it, I felt a thrill creep down into my balls.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. My heart missed a beat and I quickly zipped up my pants.

"Come in," I quavered.

The door opened and Miss Johnson stepped in locking the door behind her. She walked over to my desk with a wicked glint in her eye.

She paused as if searching for the right words, and then said, "You know Luke, I've been thinking about our conversation, the one we just had in the canteen." She paused again and then continued. "We've always shared a closed working relationship, you and I, and it's no secret that you're my little favourite. So I was thinking, if you're good to me, then I could be good to you? Win-win, if you understand my meaning."

"I beg your pardon?" I stammered, not knowing quite what she was driving at. Her voice was friendly, but her eyes cold and calculating.

"Let me help you understand," she said, her voice now more assertive, "Melody made a complaint about you last week. She said that you groped her. I didn't entertain the idea of course. A girl like that probably makes up all kinds of stories."

My heart lurched and I felt nausea welling in my stomach.

"And I wouldn't want you to get fired for sexual harassment. A man like you may never get a job again, at least not in the library service. Even worse, if a sexual harassment case ever became a molestation case, things would not be easy for you."

She let those words hang in the air. Panic gripped my balls as clearly as if she had them in her hand and I felt my armpits grow damp with sweat. Her face had that look of satisfaction -- the kind of look that your opponent has when they announce check-mate.

"So, as I said, I got to thinking about what we discussed in the canteen. You know, Melody's mother told me that this job was a Godsend. Without it, she doesn't know how she would meet the rent. She told me how proud she was of her little girl and how grateful she was to me for giving her the job."

Did Miss Johnson plan to use Melody in some sick way?

"Let's just say that I don't think we need to take her accusations too seriously ... if that's what you want. So if you do me a little favour then I can do you this favour for you, and it goes no further."

My heart pounded in my chest and my voice caught in my throat, but she was offering me a ray of hope and I nodded eagerly.

"Of course, I'll do whatever you want."

"Good," she said with satisfaction. "You know, when we were chatting, I noticed you got a nice little erection for me just before you left the canteen."

She wiggled her shoulders so that her tits bounced and bobbed barely contained by the open mouth of her blouse.

"Are these what made you so hot and flustered that you had to leave so suddenly? Do you like them?"

Was this a trick question?

If I said 'Yes' would she report me for sexual harassment? Her story together with Melody's would seal my fate. If I said 'No' would she be mortally offended and fire me anyway?

"They're wonderful," I stammered, "large and soft and voluminous."

Voluminous? Why the hell had I said that? I searched her face looking for a clue as to whether she was pleased with me or not. A slow sly smile stole across her face.

"Good. Undress me."

Oh my good God -- really? What had I done to deserve this? Was she going to ask me to fuck her next? Was this why I was her favourite? The idea sickened me but I had no choice.

"Now," she ordered, her voice more aggressive.

I fumbled for the buttons and popped them open -- one, two... On three they tumbled out -- two lily-white tits with shrunken atrophic nipples and puckered warty skin.

"Take them in your mouth," she ordered.

I complied with a little whimper. They tasted dry but I started working the nipples with my tongue.

After a few minutes, she said, "Good little puppy, but you're far too eager. That's enough. I want to have my fun with you."

She pushed me away and told me to sit at the table.

"Pull your pants down," she demanded.

I obeyed wordlessly.

"Good and the boxer shorts too."

I hesitated, wanting to preserve my little modesty. I knew how it would look and desperately tried to cover it.

"Really?" I said, "Please Miss Johnson."

"Now," she growled.

I reluctantly slipped down my pants to reveal my flaccid pecker.

"Oh dear," she chuckled, "what are we going to do with that? I don't think that is going to make the girls cry. Well what are you waiting for?"

Did she want me to masturbate?

"Sorry," I said, a tremor into my voice.

"I want to see it" - she hesitated searching for the right words -- "fully-formed like it was in the canteen. Or do you just get erections only when you think no one's watching?"

I clasped my penis between my thumb and forefinger willing it to swell but all my blood had rushed to my stomach.

"I can't Miss Johnson," I replied in a high pitched voice.

"It's so small and pathetic.," she said with a smirk on her face. "I hope for your sake you have more than that to show me."

"Perhaps if you helped," I offered with desperation in my voice.

"Oh very well," she said.

She knelt and started fondling my cock sending a jolt through my body as her cold hands cupped my balls. Thankfully my little pecker responded and began to twitch in her hand.

"You see, it's a wee little thing with a mind of its own. Look how it wants to please me."

She started rubbing with her two fingers and thumb. It quivered and swelled in her hand, blossoming from a little nub of flesh into a bite-sized mouthful with a bright purple head.

When it had reached full size and lay there rigid in her open palm, she said in a disappointed tone, "Never mind, we'll just have to work with what we've got, now stand up."

I did as she asked bringing my cock level with her face.

"Such a little thing, I should imagine I could gobble it down in one gulp," she said. "I bet you would like that, wouldn't you? Having the Head Librarian suck your little dick."

I could feel the warmth of her breath on my swollen gland. My cock stood rigid to attention and despite the humiliation, I found myself becoming excited. Was this old hag going to mouth fuck me? Why did I find this so hot?

She chuckled softly to herself again and then took me in her mouth. Her lips slid down its full length and then back up.

"You know I haven't sucked a cock in over 15 years. I've forgotten what it's like."

Greedily she went down on me again, this time sucking and slurping more vigorously, bobbing her head and using her hands to massage my balls. After a few minutes she pushed my cock against my abdomen and inspected my testicles.

"Like little marbles!" she muttered, and then took both in her mouth. Her tongue played with them whilst her hand stroked my shaft.

Her dextrous tongue sent waves of pleasure through my body and I began despite myself to moan. This woman was old enough to be my mother and here she was on her hands and knees with her tits lolling about sucking my cock. Her appetite was enormous and despite all her faults, she had somehow acquired considerable expertise with her mouth. Aware of my growing pleasure she artfully sucked my balls taking each individually and then together with a popping sound. She chuckled to herself and a moment later she set to on the head of my cock, her pink tongue circling the tip whilst her hand frantically worked my rigid Johnson. The pressure inside my balls became unbearable, and sensing my desperation she pulled down on my ramrod preventing me from orgasming. The pain and the ecstasy were unbearable.

"Oh God let me come," I cried.

"Like a nice little piggy, you want to come all over mummy," she said mockingly. "Mummy will let you come when she decides and not before."

"Please," I whispered.

A moment later she released the pressure on my shaft.

"I'm going to cum," I warned her.

She took my creamy-white jiz in her mouth, swallowing each spurt down. I collapsed on the desk and she released me. Cum dribbled down her chin and onto the carpet.

"Good little boy," she said, almost lovingly.

***

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