Succubus: Geek Whisperer

"That's why I'm here," he said. Nervously he leant over the bed, and put his face up to mine. "Be gentle," he said.

I had no idea what he was going on about. But fuck he was sexy. I loved the smell of him. His cologne on his neck. It was drawing me in. Before I realised what I was doing, I'd snapped out my fangs and plunged them into that pulsing artery and was drinking him down like I'd reached a water fountain on the far side of a desert. He tasted so good. So warm, so salty. So... meaty?

Then I was vomiting, throwing up his partially congealed blood, wracking and coughing, and choking as I lay strapped on my back. Steve ripped the restraints open and held me as I leant over the edge of the bed, heaving up black-red chunks.

"I'm going to call for help," he said, reaching for the phone.

"Just what the buggering fuck is going on?" I asked.

///

"How long have you been a vegetarian?" asked the distinguished gentleman Steve had summoned for help.

"Fifteen years, give or take," I said.

"Dairy?"

"A bit of cheese every now and then, but I react badly to it."

"Shit," he said. The cuss felt out of place from his well-cultured lips, which made it all the more powerful. Steve was holding my hand. They'd changed the sheets, so it no longer resembled a scene from the Exorcist, but it was still far from cosy.

I'd got the whole story from Steve. He was Alpha of the local wolf pack. That night, when I'd taken my life in the bath, he could smell the blood from the other end of the dormitory block, where he was in the bar. He'd smashed his way into my room, but it was too late to save me - or save me as a human, anyway. He called out to his Master, who sensed the cries of his animal to call, and said he'd do what he could to save me. So apparently, I was now a vampire. Or would be, if only I wasn't haemoglobin-intolerant. They'd had to tear out my piercings, the silver burned my skin, and my flesh repulsed it in its need to be perfect. Thank god none of them was a crucifix.

"I've seen it before, particularly with vegans and long-standing strict vegetarians," the old guy said. "We're not really sure if it's physiological or psychological."

"You mean her body can't process blood - like some people can't digest milk?"

"Possibly. Or maybe her brain just rejects the idea of eating blood, and it's a compulsion. It's hard to predict; the supernatural doesn't respond well to scientific study. But we'll know soon enough."

"How?"

"Well, if it's psychological, then eventually her hunger will outweigh her revulsion, and she'll eat whatever she has to eat to survive."

"And if not?"

"The true death comes for us all, eventually," he said. "I'm so sorry."

I was still in shock, and said nothing. But Steve was having none of this, he didn't want to lose me twice. "Surely there's some other way?" he insisted.

The vamp doctor looked me over. He put his head to mine, fingers touching at my temples and cheeks as he semi-cradled my head in open hands. It felt like a ritual. I saw pictures in my mind, depraved sexual memories - Sandy Shore, blowjob tag-teaming with the Bestie; the two of us in a 69 racing each other to orgasm; that time 3 lads stood round and came over my face; me blowing the tattoo guy so he'd give me the tongue piercing, and the pleasure-pain orgasm when he pushed the needle through my clit.

"Hmmm. Maybe," he was muttering to himself. "I need to make some calls," he said out loud, and left us alone.

///

It turned out there was another way, if I had the aptitude for it. Blood wasn't the only form of life force you could take from a human host to sustain vampirism. But living from lust ran a higher risk of discovery. Sex naturally required more vulnerability and exposure, literally; and you had to earn the trust of your prey, which needed to be in the right frame of mind in for you to maximise the harvest. You wanted to both literally and figuratively feed on their lust - bring them to orgasm and bathe in the power, while swallowing down their fluids for the physical sustenance you needed. Seems all that cocksucking I loved was going to come in useful after death, too.

I won't go into the metaphysics of my conversion from vampire to succubus - I don't understand it myself, so I wouldn't expect you to. And reading about the torture I had to go through to switch my blood lines... Well I guess some of you might get off on that, but too bad, that's not the story I'm telling, I didn't even really meet the Mother; just kind-of sensed her overwhelming presence as I bathed in that pleasure/pain. I feed her, and she sustains me. Every orgasm I ride, she rides along with me, and leaves me my share.

I knew I was attractive; I'd had years of boys drooling over me. I knew how I looked. Big tits, small waist. I'd got over it being a curse years before, and if flaunting it for free stuff hadn't bothered me while I was a living horny teenager, it was hardly going to bother me now I was dead and literally needed to fuck to survive. But I did intend to get the biggest bang for my buck, so to speak.

For a while I hung out at nightclubs, feeding from the environment, showing off my body, teasing and flirting and touching them up, swallowing down their lust, and later their cum in the alleys or the cabs back to their place for a banquet that could keep me sustained for a week, if they were up to it. But I hated the people. The guys were letches, and just expected a fuck from any of the girls. So, while I was well fed, I was lonely and used. I remembered where that road led me before, but this time I couldn't even kill myself to escape it. All that faced me would be an eternity of painful hunger and loss. The hungrier and weaker I got, the less attractive I would be, and that was not a vicious cycle I could let myself get into. Eternity is a fucking long time.

I needed to work out how best to target my prey - and who my prey should be. What would be the easiest lay for me, the lowest effort. What did I know? I only had two skills, so I'd need to put the one to use in order to be able to use the other.

///

I have fond memories of my first gamer's fair - it's when I realised what I was going to do with my death. The casting agency, after a lot of cocksucking, managed to get me a stint as a Booth Babe for a shitty driving game. They wanted to emphasise the realistic 3D aspects of the game - this was the early 90s - and decided the best way to do that would be to drape curvy girls with big tits and painted-on-tight leather leggings over the bonnets of some flashy cars on their stand. So I smiled and pouted and blew kisses and winked at the punters. I let myself be photographed. I gave hugs, and lost count of how many times I was touched inappropriately. But I could feel the lust, and it warmed me inside. Not as satisfying as an erotic session, but enough to sustain me through the day.

"Hello sexy," said a voice, and I felt a hand grab my leather-covered arse. I smiled, and turned to face the sleazeball sales executive.

"Hey," I said, trying to meet his eyes, but they had wandered south to peer down through the low-cut tank top he'd arranged for his girls to wear. I could feel the heat, the energy, rise in him. I shifted my stance slightly to give a bit more hip, to push my chest out a little further. As we talked - idle chat about nothing - I'd giggle and lick my lips, brush my boob carelessly over his arm, toy with my long brown hair.

As the lift doors closed, he grabbed my arms and pulled me to him. I let him back me against the wall, and I swallowed his tongue as he pressed himself against me. He grabbed my left tit roughly with one hand, through the tank top, while grabbing the hair at the nape of my neck with the other.

This was going to be so easy.

I stood behind him as he fumbled with the passkey to his hotel room, and stroked his aching cock through his suit trousers. He stumbled through and I locked the door behind us, then prowled towards him, tossing my hair back and staring straight at his groin, licking my lips. He stepped backwards, recoiling slightly from the strength of my glare, and fell into a chair. I dropped to my knees before him and started working on his fly.

"I really have to thank you for getting me this job, sir," I said, and untangled his rock-hard dick from his boxer shorts. I watched his eyes roll back as I slid my ruby lips over his tip and all the way down the shaft, swallowing as the head pushed into my throat. His hands tangled into the hair behind my head, and I let him set the pace as I worked my magic (in both senses) over his aching manhood. It was times like this when I really missed that tongue piercing. God, he tasted so good. I craved his cum like you might crave a beer after a long hard day in the office.

"The bed..." he gasped. I looked up at him watching me, with my cheeks drawn in from the suction. "I wanna fuck you before I come."

Disappointed, I stood. Turning away from him, I drew the tank top over my head, then unclipped the Wonderbra and threw it aside. I could feel his eyes boring into the small of my back, looking at the tattoo of the bat that stretched across from hip to hip. A tramp stamp, they'd come to call it in later years. I reached the bed, and worked the tight leather over my hips and let it drop to the floor. I was now naked, since I couldn't have worn anything under that outfit without it ruining the finish. I could feel the heat of him from across the room. I turned, and sat at the end of the bed, then beckoned him over. I scootched back up onto the mattress as he tore off his shirt and stepped out of his trousers and boxers, his eyes practically burning with desire. I cupped a breast with one arm, and played with my pussy with the other.

"Nice tattoo," he said, looking at the flames rising from my cunt. I saw it reflected in his eyes. He was stroking his dick; I don't think he even realised he was doing it, as he nearly fell onto the bed. I watched him climb up between my legs, which I spread wide for him.

"Take me," I said. "Hard as you like. I ask just one thing."

"What's that?" he asked.

So I spoke the words every man wants to hear me say. "Come in my mouth."

///

He didn't last long. I'd guided him into me, and he was so worked up that he was pumping harder than he could sustain. I watched his aura carefully; I could sense he was going to go quickly and wasn't in full control. When I sensed that his climax was inevitable, I effortlessly pushed him over onto his back, and slid back down between his legs.

"Give it to me, baby, " I said, with that practised Marilyn voice. While I looked into his eyes, he gave me his offering, and I drank of his energy and essence.

"Fuuuuuck," he said, holding my head gently in his hands. His dick kept twitching and I kept sucking, careful not to waste a drop. He was happy, but there was the twinge of something else there. Guilt? Shame? No, just disappointment.

"Shit, that was too fast. You're so fucking amazing," he said. "So hot."

I felt bad for the guy. His aura had dampened, but there was still a spark there. He had more to give. I didn't think it would be difficult to feed from him again. So, gently, I kept licking and toying with his softening dick in my mouth. I used a lot of spit, making it sopping wet, tickling under the base of the head, and humming.

I let it slip from my mouth, semi-erect, and pushed myself up onto the bed. I took my boobs into my hands and wrapped them round his slippery wet dick, sliding them up and down over him as he rapidly hardened back up. Getting a willing but flaccid man ready again is an essential life skill for a succubus. "My god, what are you doing to me?" he asked.

"Giving you a great fuck," I said, sliding my soft wet pussy over him until our pelvic bones met. Kneeling round his hips, I leant forwards and let my boobs swing onto his face. Gratefully, he pressed into the cleavage, then licked and sucked at the nipples. Like a kid in a candy shop, he didn't know what to do first with his hands. Grab my ass, stroke my tits, pull my hair... It was so sweet, the indecision so unlike the smarmy businessman front he put on.

"I don't pay you enough," he said, entranced. I just smiled, taking my payment from his energy, riding his lust.

"Eat me, and we'll call it quits," I suggested. Cock felt good, but tongues were better - if he knew how to use it. I climbed off, threw a leg over his face, and leant down to take his cock back in my mouth while he set to work. Unfortunately, he had no technique, so I brought his orgasm as quickly as I could manage, faking my own. We hugged, him on his back and me draping my body across his, until he was snoring like a drain.

Carefully, I climbed back off the bed. I didn't need much sleep, and given my heritage I preferred to sleep during the day. I wasn't pure vampire and the sun wouldn't burn me, but I still found it more comfortable to sleep in the daylight. Besides, there was good hunting left tonight. I pulled the leather trousers back up my legs - no cum, no mess - and clipped the plunge bra back over my assets. I looked around for the tank top but couldn't immediately see it. Fuck it, I thought. I've worn less in nightclubs before.

My tits bounced as I strode across the street to the club, heels adding much needed inches to my height. Being short didn't help when I already looked so young. There was a queue to get in, but I walked up to the VIP rope and had a word - and a tongue - in the bouncer's ear. One oral favour in the alley later, and I walked in; the guys in the queue liking the view and the women giving me the cold dead bitch stare.

The music was banging, and I lost myself to the bass, jumping and pumping on the floor. I wasn't a great mover - unless you counted Dance Dance Revolution - but who needs skill when you have tits like mine? I could feel the eyes on me, smell the testosterone in the air. I began low-key feeding, and that drew some of the hornier guys towards me like moths to the flame. I had hands on my ass, my thighs, my waist. Some random came up behind me and had his arm round just under my tits; I ground my ass over his cock as we moved together. I leant my head back against his shoulder, and slipped my tongue into his waiting mouth. He slid his hand up to my crotch and started stroking me as I raised my arms over my head, lifting my tits, and kissed him. His other hand slid into my bra and started fondling my tit. He was beyond primed. I needed to feed before he got us thrown out of the club for indecency.

I broke the kiss, took his hand and started off towards the toilets. As ever there was a huge queue for the ladies', but bold as fuck I just pushed open the door to the gents' and dragged him in. I reeled slightly from the smell of piss, but it was a raw male scent that grabbed me by the pussy. I kicked open one of the stalls and pushed him in, closed the door behind, and was on my knees with his cock in my throat just as fast as I could.

"Holy shit," he was repeating, over and over. I guess I kind-of was; some kind of supernatural anyway. All too soon I had drained him, body and soul.

I stood, peeled the wet tissue I'd knelt on back off my trousers, and game him a peck on the cheeks. "Thank you," I said.

"Thank me?" he replied, incredulously, but I was already out the door... and literally bumped straight into another guy.

"Excuse... Wow, fuck me," he said, as my tits squashed into his chest. Well, why the fuck not, I thought, already buzzing on an energy high; and pushed him into the neighbouring cubicle.

Much later, and well fed, I headed back up to the hotel room. The sun was rising as I curled back up against him, and caught an hour or so's rest. No dreams came - that only happened at night; I guess sleeping in the day was closer to the vampiric mini-death, so I never dreamt then. Another reason I preferred it.

When I woke, he was already hard - thank god for morning glory - and I stroked him until he woke up.

"I was just dreaming about you," he said.

"Oh yeah? All bad, I hope."

"It made me realise - technically I own your ass for this gig; but I haven't, you know, owned your ass."

I giggled, that dirty little laugh I'd practised, and rolled onto my stomach, tucking a pillow under my hips to give him a better angle. Anal wasn't really my thing; but then again, my thing was to maximise the pleasure of my prey. The stronger their lust, the bigger the reward for me. I let him finish in my ass; it was clearly what he wanted, and I didn't need to swallow his load to gain nourishment from it. I just generally preferred it that way. Besides, I'd had a stomach full of jizz already that night.

///

I owe my current persona to a guy I met a few years after I died. I was moving around from university town to university town; people were used to new blood showing up every September and then disappearing after a few years, so that made great cover for me, for a while. I led the life of a loner nerd girl, hanging out with losers in their mum's basements, playing video games. They didn't feel like they were losers when they fed me with their desire.

I met Joe while hanging out around video arcades. We got chatting, got friendly over a few weeks 2-playering our way through some virtual worlds. It didn't take long for him to invite me back to his place to play console and PC games together, and before he realised it, I'd moved myself into his house-share.

He was the perfect gentleman, which I found incredibly frustrating but also rather arousing. I was used to being hit on, and I found it intriguing that he didn't make a move. Fortunately, his flatmates were extremely horny and very loud, and I was able to passively feed on that for a while to a small extent. But I did need action of my own - I needed to be the target of the lust to feed properly, and I wasn't yet desperate enough to risk my new friendship by sleeping with his friends. Joe didn't set off my gaydar, and besides given the choice he'd pick the female avatar with the big tits and skimpy outfit. I'd dutifully pretend to roll my eyes, then pick the butch ripped hunk.

Joe introduced me to Anime. We binged through Neon Genesis Evangelion in a weekend; I found myself fascinated by the storylines, of the fantastical monsters, and by Japanimation culture as a whole. I was drawn to strong female characters, and the whole hypercute look. Big eyes, unlikely boobs and waists, long legs... Guys loved that style. How I wished I could look like that - but the glamour energy I'd have to burn for it would have been unsustainable.

But cosplay - that was another matter. Joe and I visited a few conventions, and I'd love dolling myself up as Sailor Moon characters and suchlike. I could walk around the convention, playing videogames, and low-key feeding from all the lustful stares I'd get in those outfits. The tighter and skimpier the costume, the stronger the desire of those around, and the more I could feed without tapping my friends.

One day I went browsing through one of the stalls and selected a few Anime videotapes to watch with Joe back in the hotel room we'd booked. I didn't really know what I'd picked up; I didn't recognise the series and my Japanese wasn't then good enough to work out what was written on the tapes. We'd settled in for an overnight session and had patched up a video player to the TV in our room.

It soon became clear that this wasn't the kind of Anime we'd watched together before - it was properly dirty. Animated sex scenes were a new concept to me, and somewhat unexpected - but a pleasant surprise, nonetheless. With my human senses I could feel that Joe was uncomfortable - but with my supernatural ones, I could tell how excited he was. Now was the time to press my advantage.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realise..." I said. "Do you want me to find another one?"