My Demon Succubus - Pt. 03

Luke gets his revenge with a little help from Luka.

PART 3

On Sunday I attended church as was my weekly routine and unable to find peace, I decided to walk the country lanes to think over my predicament. Clearly, Miss Johnson was enjoying her power over me, and sooner rather than later she was going to use me again, and she probably wouldn't be satisfied with anything as coy as a hand or blowjob. The thought of fucking that dried up old bitch repelled me and excited me, but past experience told me that I might be inadequate for her needs. What if I didn't satisfy her? Would she stoop to even more extreme measures to get her gratification?

I was lost in thought and didn't notice a raven-haired woman approaching in the opposite direction. She seemed to materialise out of the morning fog like a wraith dressed in black.

As I passed her she stopped, and asked, "You're Luke Coldrum aren't you."

Shocked I stopped and looked at her unable to understand how she knew my name. I could not place her accent -- eastern European perhaps -- maybe Ukraine -- I couldn't be sure -- but it was like honeyed silk. She looked in her mid-thirties, but her face was ageless. Her skin was milky white and her knowing eyes were dark wells that sucked me down.

"Yes, "I stuttered. "How do you know me?"

"Oh I'm somewhat of a people person, I know a lot of things," she said. "In fact, I know lots of things about you, even you're little liaison with Miss Johnson the other day."

She paused for effect but she needn't have bothered because I felt the colour drain from my face.

"How do you know that?" I gasped, shocked by the revelation.

"As I said, I know people, better than they know themselves sometimes."

My head swam as she smiled revealing gleaming white teeth framed between ruby red lips. She held me with her gaze and I felt the breath leave my lungs. At that moment I can honestly say that she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

"I can help you with your problem," she continued.

"Oh?" I said intrigued now, "how so?"

"Let's just say that I have certain skills that could be useful in a situation like yours, all you have to do is invite me in."

"I beg your pardon," I asked, "invite you in?"

"Invite me into your life," she said brightly, "like you would a friend. Win-win, so to speak."

Was this woman nuts? Any man would invite this woman into their lives -- it would be a dream come true. In fact, it was too good to be true.

"And what's the catch," I asked, suspicious now.

"No catch," she said sweetly, "other than you have an hour to make up your mind and your decision is permanent."

What did she mean by permanent?

Reading my face she continued, "Binding, in perpetuity, until our Kingdom come."

The strange woman chose an odd set of words to make her point, but I understood her meaning perfectly. Whatever I was agreeing to had no going back -- a contract of sorts - and whilst I had my suspicions, especially as I only had an hour to decide, I couldn't help but feel that an eternity with this woman wouldn't be half bad.

"Give me an hour," I said.

The woman flashed that dazzling smile again and said, "I'll meet you here."

I set off again and then turned to call back 'one hour' but the woman had already vanished into the fog. My mind raced trying to figure out where the trap lay -- after all -- beautiful women weren't in the habit of approaching me, ever, let alone, making an offer like this. Why on earth shouldn't I accept the deal -- it was a gift horse? As I meandered through the lanes I realised that I couldn't get the image of her face out of my mind -- it was as if it had etched itself into my subconscious- and now those beautiful eyes and full lips beckoned back -- 'one hour.' I realised that a woman like her had a rare beauty -- one that could enrapture or enslave, whichever was to her liking.

"Snap out of this," I mumbled to myself, "get real, what's someone like her doing in a place like this?"

"She was looking for me," I replied snappily, "she knew my name."

"Why would she be interested in someone like you?" I responded, asking the obvious question.

"Because sometimes strange things happen, once in a lifetime things," was my response. The answer seemed weak but my doubts were easily assuaged by those eyes that enraptured me with her gaze.

"Am I really going to turn down this offer?" I asked myself.

Who was I kidding, I was hers from the beginning. Some part of me knew this -- it was a chemical attraction that I was powerless to deny - and whilst the rational part of my brain reasoned against this, the more cunning animal mind knew what it wanted. Already it had tempted me with imagined liaisons, scenarios, and moments together.

I arrived at the allotted place an hour later and waited. My mind was made up despite a faint sense of unease that I easily ignored. I fidgeted, conscious that it might look odd for a man to loiter in such an isolated spot, half-shrouded in the mist. Ten minutes quickly turned into twenty, excitement slowly fading way to disappointment, and after half an hour I realised that the woman had played me for a fool. Angry and frustrated I trudged home wondering why someone would play such a cruel joke. Perhaps she'd been sent by Miss Johnson to taunt me? Had Miss Johnson wanted to send a message -- be careful, I know where you live?

The following morning I woke up with a crushing headache the likes of which I had never had before, bar perhaps in my drink addled university days. I lumbered downstairs and took two Tylenol with my black coffee. I got into my beat-up Honda Civic and began the 40-minute commute to work. Thankfully the traffic was light and I arrived 10 minutes early which allowed me to grab another coffee and retire into the darkened reading room.

After an hour or so my headache dissipated and I felt cheerier than I had good reason to be. I had almost finished the cataloguing of the new stock when the door quietly swung open. I knew who it was as there was no knock -- only Miss Johnson barged in like that --hoping to discover some misdemeanour no doubt.

"Good, I'm glad that you're here," she said. "I need you in my office, now."

She wore a stern face and I knew that she had some ghastly delight in store for me. My heart lurched and on seeing it, she smiled lasciviously.

Sullenly I followed her into her office. Colin shot me a glance that plainly begged the question -- 'what's happened now?'

I shrugged my shoulders and he mouthed the words, 'Good Luck.'

Inside Miss Johnson's office, I could see a bean bag and next to it, Melody standing with her face in the corner of the room like a naughty schoolchild. Her knickers were down between her ankles.

"What the fuck?" I said. "This is fucked up."

I quite forgot my position as rage welled up in my stomach but it quickly abated when Miss Johnson growled, "Shut up if you know what's good for you."

She exuded a quiet authority not just because of her senior position at the library but because of the power she held over my career.

"Melody here can't help but get herself into trouble. Just 10 minutes ago I found her sitting on the loo texting with her phone. It's library policy that mobile phones cannot be used for personal calls within office hours -- and that includes text messages - unless it's an emergency... and I don't think texting her boyfriend is an emergency."

Miss Johnson then picked up Melody's phone that she had confiscated and parodied, in a caricature of Melody's sweet lilting voice, "Oh Kevin, last night felt like heaven.' For Christ's sake, whoever writes that sort of drivel?"

She paused turning to Melody, "Now I want you to lie down on the bean bag."

Silently Melody complied. Tears welled down her cheeks and she hiccupped little sobs as she bent over.

"Lift your skirt."

Melody reached behind her and pulled it up to reveal lily-white buttocks. Pale vulval lips peeked out between her thighs.

"This is sick," I announced. "I won't do it."

My heart raced and my voice quavered as I said the words. Miss Johnson's face transformed into an ugly maw of rage and hate.

"You either do as I say, or I will make sure every library knows about your deviant sexual proclivity for young girls."

Dread and an overwhelming sense of helplessness seized me as I realised I had no choice. I felt despair and rage and beyond that, sorrow for Melody. Somehow she had become the brunt of Miss Johnson's ire and there was nothing that I could do.

"Let me handle this."

I looked around the room wondering who had dared to speak and then the disembodied voice came again.

"Leave this to me."

The voice was somewhere in my head. It was familiar and in a heartbeat, I realised that it had that same eastern European accent -- confident and assured - of the woman I had met on the lanes.

What the fuck was going on?

Had the stress of the moment sent me over the brink and I had suddenly developed a split personality? Perhaps madness is the last refuge of the mind?

"You know Miss Johnson, you have a lot to say for a woman with very few cards to play." The voice was mine -- but not mine. The timbre was an octave or two lower and buttery smooth.

My heart had slowed to a steady pace ... and there was something else there as well - command. Miss Johnson sensed it too, and taken aback for a moment, found no words.

"Get up Melody," I said.

Melody, moon-eyed stood, stood drawing up her panties.

"What are you doing?" Miss Johnson erupted, finally finding her voice.

"Silence," I commanded and in an instant Miss Johnson obeyed.

"Sit," I said, depressing my finger as if pushing an invisible button.

The little voice in my head said in that Slavic accent, "you see, it's not so hard when one knows the words of power."

Miss Johnson collapsed in her seat, deflated and for the first time, afraid. Her pupils were dilated in terror.

"Who are you?" she stammered not recognising the voice.

I realised that I too did not know the name of the entity that now resided inside me.

"Call me daddy," I said.

"Weren't you your father's pride and joy -- an only child? Didn't he share forbidden things with you?"

Images and preternatural knowledge poured into my mind.

Miss Johnson's face turned ashen white.

"You remember that weekend when your mother visited friends in Scotland? The storm that drove you frightened into his bed? The strong hands, the smell of his whiskey breath?"

"Yes," Miss Johnson whimpered, her eyes far away.

"Come and lie down for me, I can take those hurts away."

Miss Johnson got up and knelt before the bean bag.

"Now, lie down."

Miss Johnson stretched out.

"Pull her knickers down Melody."

Melody jumped to it gripped by morbid curiosity. She lifted Miss Johnson's heavy pleated skirt to reveal kidney hugging knickers. A moment later she had them off exposing an enormous cellulite arse. Stiff silvery hair lined her pink pussy lips.

I picked up the hairbrush that lay on Miss Johnson's table and silently handed it to Melody. Grasping my idea, she took it by the plastic bristles and placed it over Miss Johnson's vulva.

I knelt down and took Miss Johnson's head in my hands, drawing it up to my eye level.

"I know this is what you want. I know everything about you -- your darkest thoughts and most intimate secrets."

Slowly Melody plunged the brush into her vagina and a soft moan came from Miss Johnson. The young girl began to work it with a soft toing and froing action and Miss Johnson lifted her ass to meet each thrust. Her eyes were lost in inner contemplation.

"If you reach into her you can feel her cunt," my inner voice said.

Puzzled I looked into Miss Johnson's eyes and felt her pain and beyond that, the warm feeling in her vagina -- the growing excitement and the accusations of past hurts. She began to buck now like a broodmare silently mouthing the words, "Fuck me. Oh God fuck me like a whore."

Miss Johnson's lips were swollen, oozing a clear viscid fluid that dribbled down her thighs and onto the bean bag. Melody continued to pummel the hairbrush into her vagina pushing the hilt so far that the plastic hair tines buried themselves into her clitoris. Miss Johnson purred in pleasure.

"Harder," she moaned, "deeper."

Melody's face was slicked in concentration as she worked on Miss Johnson's love hole, and as I reached into her too, I sensed a font of revenge, lust and excitement. Her hand worked itself under her panties and between her legs as she pounded Miss Johnson's pussy.

"I'm cumming," Miss Johnson sobbed, "Oh my, Oh Jeez."

She bucked and spasmed in ecstasy and then went limp.

"Oh thank you," she whispered.

I reached into her and felt peace.

Melody stepped back grinning. You know she said, "That's too easy, she deserves more after what she put us two through."

"Me too," I agreed.

A sly grin stole over Melody's face and she jumped up, cupping a hand to my ear and whispering, "Fuck her."

The idea, abhorrent just a few minutes ago, now seemed attractive. What had happened to me? I bent down in front of Miss Johnson.

"Do you want daddy to fuck you now?"

Her eyes cleared from the trance and she nodded eagerly.

I knelt behind her and pulled out my cock. It looked inconsequential against Miss Johnson's massive buttocks but as I inspected it, I got the distinct impression that its girth had increased in diameter. It was still less than 5 inches long -- small by internet porn standards - but rather than being a willow thin rod, it now had a little more substance to it.

I shoved it into Miss Johnson's service hole and it slid in easily to the hilt. Her soft flesh yielded as I bore down on her encouraged by Melody's soft words in my ear.

"Fuck her, Luke. Make her beg."

Melody's eyes gleamed in excitement and she knelt down on all fours sliding a hand between her legs again. She arched her back and threw back her head cooing in delight as she fingered herself. Soft moans too came from Miss Johnson as I began drumming into her backside. My stomach slapped against her arse cheeks as I buried my poor prick into her cunt. My balls began to tighten as I felt my climax rising.

"Oh fuck me, daddy," Miss Johnson moaned.

I plunged my ramrod into her, rocking her great bulk with the effort, and then without warning, I shot my load deep inside her. I fell back withdrawing my little cock as cum spurted onto the carpet. Melody beamed and then shuddered as she too came before collapsing on the floor.

"Thank you," Miss Johnson said sometime later. "I haven't been fucked like that in years. You wouldn't believe how much I needed that."

She seemed genuinely reconciled with her past for the first time since I'd known her.

"I'm sorry for what I did to you two. You didn't deserve that."

Her words were simple and sincere, but had justice been served? The old testament spoke of an eye for an eye, but I never believed in that, lest we should all go around eyeless. Miss Johnson had been healed but Melody's hurt had not been satiated.

"You haven't paid in full yet," I said.

"I know," she replied, "but one step at a time."

***

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