The Succubae Seduction Ch. 10

Mr. Snow,

It has come to my attention that you have a girlfriend. I will not play party to such behavior. As of now, we are through, and I will tolerate no further such behavior from you.

There isn't even a signature at the end, and I glance up to my boss wanting to explain, but she's studiouslynotlooking my way. Unfortunately, I can't seem to come up with a plan to get her alone, without appearing suspicious to my coworkers, to explain.

Come to think on it, should I explain? Sure, Jennifer isn't really my girlfriend, but I do have a girlfriend, or two. Other than having an angry boss, maybe it'll be good to stop fooling around with her. Once again, I'm tempted to just up and quit this job. It's not like I don't already have enough stress in my life!

Something stops me, though. It's not that I need the money, but with my apartment gone, my car destroyed, and my entire life flipped upside-down, my job is the only thing I have left.

Why did Angela have to come into my life? Everything started after she showed up in my office. Once more, I feel a pang of hurt from thinking about the succubus, which inevitably reminds me of Brooke leaving.

I need to get over them. They're my past, and I need to concentrate on the present.

"Mr. Snow, get back to work," Sheila states a little louder than I think is truly necessary, but I get back to work nonetheless.

Lunch comes painfully slowly, and I head down to the lobby to meet up with Guard Lansbury.

"You showed up," the now skinny woman states, and from her tone I can't tell if she's happy or disappointed. She walks an arm's length away from me as well, and now I'm truly curious as to what's going on. We walk to a deli around the corner, and I offer to pay for her, but she refuses.

"Look," she starts when we sit down with our food, and I immediately feel my heart sink, "you know I like you, Lyden, but things have been a bit weird. No, let me finish," she says when I try to interrupt, and I close my mouth. "You're involved in something very dangerous, and I'll help you out if I can, but I'm not going to hang around just looking for trouble."

"I understand," I tell the pretty woman, and I really do understand. Truth is, I probably shouldn't even be around Becky and Lisa, but I'm still human, and need some level of companionship. Now that four women have basically rejected me in less than as many days, I'm beginning to wonder what's wrong with me.

Just last week I could have my pick of women. This week I'm lucky to have. . . .

Wait a minute! Why am I getting down on myself? I have two, count 'em, TWO girlfriends. Just because I don't have six? What kind of demented man am I? After last night, I'm not sure if I can really handle any more than two women right now anyway. Whatiswrong with me?

Yeah, Guard Lansbury's decision is a good thing, I tell myself.

I only wish my heart would buy what my head is selling.

We try to talk amiably through the rest of lunch, but I think we both know it's strained.

When I get back up to my office, I find a flyer on my desk for a church gathering this Saturday, and know that AnnaBelle must have placed it there. My first response is to rip it up and throw it away, but maybe this is what I need right now.

"AnnaBelle," I say to the woman sitting in the desk next to mine, "I'm truly sorry for what I said on Monday. It was inappropriate, and while I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, I'll do what I can to go to this event."

"It's not my forgiveness you should strive for, Lyden, but our Lord and Savior's. Only he can truly forgive." I hate this pious attitude, but I'd meant what I'd said about being wrong in my behavior. "But know that I have already forgiven and forgotten your words from Monday. You're a young man, and I remember when I was younger. I'll see you there."

I nod that I will indeed be there, and even though I'm dreading the experience, I actually intend to follow through.

The rest of the day flows smoothly, and despite the occasional glares from Sheila, I actually feel somewhat better.

After work, I take a cab to Lisa's Dojo. She finds an outfit for me to start getting trained in. At first I'm embarrassed to be lumped into a group of young children. Even though I know I'm a beginner, and I have to start somewhere, having a six year old kid flip me onto my back is humiliating.

I find out that Aikido is a martial arts form that doesn't use strength so much as holds, pressure points, and avoiding direct attacks. It takes me a bit to get used to thinking like this, but after the umpteenth time of a child controlling my movements, I start to pay better attention.

I catch a ride home with Lisa, and offer to make dinner. When I serve my concoction up, we all agree that I may not be the best cook.

Both women are still thankfully satisfied from last night's marathon session, and I'm actually able to get a little sleep sandwiched between the two attractive women. This time we're in Lisa's bed, as Becky's sheets are still in the laundry because of last night.

The rest of the week seems to go by smoothly. Even Sheila Lance stops glaring at me, only snapping at every little distraction from work.

No more assassins show up to kill me under TanaVesta's orders. No more drama from any women. Jennifer tries to treat me as she used to, before our first kiss, but we both agree it's too awkward, and our interactions end up reduced to curt greetings. Every time I see her walking her rounds, I have to laugh at all the men ogling her. She tries to grimace every time she catches someone looking her way, but the way she moves her hips, or readjusts her clothing lets me know she's enjoying the attention.

I find a great apartment to move into on Friday, but by then, both women refuse to let me go, telling me that I can just stay there and pay rent. A strong part of me wants to have a little bit of freedom, but deep down I'm not willing to give them up either, and end up staying. I end up buying a whole new wardrobe, and Becky gives me a corner of her closet to use.

Saturday rolls around, and I'm surprised to find that both women want to go to AnnaBelle's church's event with me.

We dress nicely, and Becky drives us—she has the nicer car—to the address on the flyer.

AnnaBelle's church is a large attractive white building, with a large lawn. People dressed in Sunday finery are amiably chatting, and I can see a couple tables being set for an outside picnic.

The religious woman from work spots me as we walk onto the lawn, and I can tell her smile is forced as she takes in Becky and Lisa on my arms.

"I'm so glad you could come," she says, "and I'm sure the Lord is too."

"Thank you for inviting us," Becky says.

"We brought a Jell-o salad," Lisa follows up, presenting the desert.

It's obvious that AnnaBelle doesn't know how to take the women's behavior, but she smiles, saying, "The bigger the flock that follows our Lord, the better," and takes the bowl from the blonde-haired woman.

"You weren't kidding," Lisa says in a whisper as AnnaBelle walks away. "She reallyisoverzealous."

"Be nice, Lisa," Becky says, but I can see her eyes sparkling with mirth as well.

"Maybe we shouldn't have come," I say, feeling uncomfortable surrounded by so many religious people. It feels as if my skin doesn't fit well, and that at any moment, someone is going to show up and start judging every bit of my past.

"I don't recall seeing you here, before," a deep voice, sounds behind me.

I turn to see a man with a deep tan and brown eyes. From the way the two women start to unconsciously preen, I'm guessing that with his ruggedly chiseled face and flowing brown hair, he must be quite attractive.

"AnnaBelle invited us," I say, offering the man my hand. Already I don't like this man, but I can't place my finger on exactly why. "I'm Lyden, and these lovely women are Becky and Lisa."

The man grips my proffered hand in a powerful grip, shaking it firmly. "I'm Reverend Michael Chilton, parishioner of this humble flock."

Okay, I'm beginning to know why I don't like this man. His eyes are hard, and even though they are on me, it's obvious that his attention is on my girlfriends. From the flush in their cheeks, they're noticing the attention as well.

"Well, welcome, and I hope you enjoy. Any chance we'll see you in our service tomorrow?" Before I have a chance to respond, he turns and sees AnnaBelle approaching. "Ah, well I see our sweet AnnaBelle is returning. Please let me know if I can answer any questions for you."

He takes the women's hands and bends over each. I can't miss how each woman's flush deepens.

"That man is the most humble and pious man I've ever met," AnnaBelle says as she comes back to us. I grunt noncommittally, not wanting to say what I really think about the reverend. "Food is served," she then says, turning to us.

We follow her up to one of the tables, and wait for a prayer to be said for the food. I'm not sure if it's just the mood I'm in, or if it's something else, but the blessing seems to drag on as thanks is given for everything under the sun, and there are no less than three references to Reverend Michael.

We serve ourselves, and then head over to a picnic table, where AnnaBelle and another young couple join us.

The conversation turns inevitably towards the high and mighty Reverend Michael. It doesn't take long until my appetite is shot. What is it about that man that has everyone all atwitter?

The end of the picnic can't come quick enough, but thankfully it does end. AnnaBelle walks us back to Becky's car.

"I hope to see you in service tomorrow," the religious woman says. Religion can be a great thing, I know, but I have no intention of coming to the great and humble Reverend Michael's service.

I watch curiously, as Annabelle's face drains of color and her mouth drops open.

I turn to follow her gaze, and feel my heart plummet. It can't be, my first thought sluggishly moves through my mind. What happened? No! I won't accept it! I was just getting better. I was just starting to be able to go most of a day without thinking about her.

Angela is holding her side, blood obviously seeping through her fingers. She is still in her punk guise, but I can see where her nose and eyebrow rings have been torn from her face.

"Lyden," she gasps as she collapses, still a good twenty feet away, "we have a problem."

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Big thanks to Garbonzo607 for the awesome edits, ideas, and advice. Without his help, this story would have been a LOT more lackluster and confusing.

I read all of your comments, and take all your advice to heart. If you see any mistakes, or have any advice, please let me know, so that I may improve upon this story.