The Succubus Heart Squad

"We're a crack team of luscious lovelies with a single mission—find single and underappreciated good men and give them the night of their lives," Angela answered.

"And women," Mystrella whispered in his ear.

"How do you find these 'single and underappreciated good men'?" Kurtzburg asked. "I mean, who decides."

"You caught the eye of someone who felt you were deserving."

"Who?" Kurtzburg asked.

He couldn't think of anything he'd done that deserved this. At work he was largely anonymous. At home he either played strategy computer games or worked on solving abstract programming problems. Both were fairly anonymous things. How anyone would notice him at all was the biggest mystery.

Angela tapped her nose and said nothing.

Kurtzburg sipped on the champagne. It was a little sweeter than he expected. Fruitier. And bubbly.

"Someone must be paying for this," he said. "Who?"

"The Heart Squad does not do this for money," Angela said.

"Then what do you do this for?"

Lapine shared a sly glance with Angela. "Shall we show him?"

Angela shook her head. "Not yet. Wait until we get back to the flat."

"Flat?" Kurtzburg queried.

"We can't exactly drive around all night, can we," Angela said.

The way she said it sounded sensible. Of course they couldn't drive around all night.

Kurtzburg shook his head. Just how had he got into the limo? And what was he doing with this drink?

"So, we're going back to your flat," Kurtzburg clarified.

"Yes, our little love nest," Angela said. Both her voice and gaze were suggestive.

"More like our shag pit," Eulalia added with a lusty guffaw.

"And what will be happening in your flat?" Kurtzburg asked.

Angela smiled enigmatically. "We couldn't possibly spoil the surprise."

Kurtzburg's heart kicked up in his chest in excitement. His head still felt fuzzy... and wrong. This was wrong. It couldn't be happening. He must have tripped on the stairs and banged his head going into the office this morning. This had to be a dream.

The journey didn't take long, maybe ten or fifteen minutes of suggestive conversation, a hand placed between Kurtzburg's legs in a way that was not accidental. The driver, who Kurtzburg still hadn't seen, pulled up to the curb in a nondescript thoroughfare and they all got out.

He didn't recognise where they were. It could have been anywhere on the outskirts of the centre. He saw a line of local shops, all closed. He doubted they did much business when they were open. Some even looked as though they hadn't opened their doors in a long long time. The Heart Squad's flat was above a bed shop and accessed by a rickety metal staircase located in the dark side alley next to it.

The cool night air had a sobering effect on Kurtzburg. It cleared some of the fog in his thoughts. Just what was he doing here? Gorgeous women did not pick up shlubby IT guys like Kurtzburg and take them back to their flat to (fuck their brains out) party.

The alley looked dark. The whole street didn't exactly look salubrious.

Kurtzburg knew this story. He'd seen it enough times in film and on the news. He'd always thought the people that got themselves into those stories were clueless idiots, and now here he was, being a clueless idiot.

"Thanks for the lovely evening," he told the girls. "But I really must be getting back. I don't suppose your driver can give me a lift home?"

Angela put a hand on her hip and sighed. "Such a troublesome one."

Her eyes flashed pink again...

...and Kurtzburg was up the stairs and walking into the flat.

One drink wouldn't hurt.

The interior was very unusual, that was for sure. The whole flat looked like a converted warehouse loft. There were a couple of rooms partitioned off, but everything else was open plan. The walls were covered in crushed black velvet. Decorating them were paintings that dangerously straddled the line between arty erotica and outright pornography. The lighting was dim, intimate and all at floor level. Lava lamps, Kurtzburg realised. He hadn't realised they were still being manufactured. The furniture also resembled kitsch art sculptures from the '60s. The sofa was a giant pair of bright red lips. The bed—was that really a bed, it was massive!—looked like a giant red heart. It was large enough to take up maybe the far third of the flat. The walls and ceiling surrounding it were covered in mirrors, a reminder that sleep was only its secondary purpose. A purpose that was likely extended to the whole flat. It was gloriously kitsch and unashamedly frank about its sensuality.

It was also somewhere Kurtzburg had a nagging feeling he should not be.

This wasn't a place for living or sleeping. It was somewhere scary crime bosses took their squeezes back to for drug-fuelled sex orgies. How Kurtzburg had gotten mixed up in this, he had no idea. He just knew he didn't belong here.

He turned on the spot and collided face-first with Angela's ample bosom. Red-faced, Kurtzburg mumbled apologies as he tried to get around her and out the door. Angela strategically blocked him at every turn without even seeming to try.

"Stop being so jumpy," she said. "Come in. Relax. Enjoy your Valentine's night with us."

Going against her was like trying to push against a snowplough. She bulldozed him over to the sofa and left him little option but to sit down.

And promptly sink into the sofa. It was soft, spongy, but also surprisingly comfortable. It got even more comfy when Mystrella and Eulalia squeezed up on either side of him, close enough for Kurtzburg to feel their heat and curves.

"Lapine, can you fetch Mr Kurtzburg a drink please," Angela asked.

Lapine bowed in a slutty version of a curtsey before sliding behind the kitchen bar. She returned with another glass of bubbly. When she handed it to Kurtzburg she kept her long long legs straight and bent at the waist. This gave Kurtzburg an uninterrupted view right into her cleavage. He saw. She saw he saw. She gave him a wink before swaying away with an enticing jiggle of her ass.

Kurtzburg gulped.

He took a sip of the wine. Again, the drink unexpectedly sweet. It slid down his throat easy. Like pop. Posh pop.

Was it him or had Mystrella and Eulalia pressed up even closer? Both were leaning on him now. Leaning into him.

"What now?" Dare he ask.

All four women stared directly at him. Their eyes were hungry.

Kurtzburg gulped again.

"What would you like?" Angela asked, her face a cryptic mask. "We're the Heart Squad. We're here to make your Valentine's Day a memorable one. So, what would you like—love, sensuality, passion?"

"Filth?" Eulalia whispered in Kurtzburg's ear.

Kurtzburg's Adam's apple bobbed. Kept bobbing. It felt like a yo-yo going up and down in his throat. He had a feeling that if he asked for it, the woman would start a full-fledged sex orgy with him in the starring role. That would be like something out of his deepest, erotic dreams.

And that was the problem.

Something like that could only happen—to Kurtzburg—in a dream.

He tried to rationalise it. His thought processes ground together like rusted cogs with the effort.

Okay, let's say they were escorts—gorgeous, high-class, top-of-the-range escorts. That would explain why they were up for a wild orgy with a random podgy IT guy they'd picked up off the street.

But who was paying for it?

Assuming they were high-class, top-of-the-range escorts, their hourly—nightly!—rates must be exorbitant. Then multiply that by four...

Kurtzburg didn't know anyone with the spare cash to splash out on a night of this level of hedonism for themselves, let alone him. They might have his name and details, but a mistake must have been made somewhere. And when it was discovered, the person paying for it all was likely going to be pissed.

Mystrella and Eulalia pressed up closer. Each had an arm around Kurtzburg. He sank deeper into the sofa—which was extremely comfortable, to be fair. He took another nervous gulp of the fruity wine. His head was starting to feel as effervescent as the liquid in the glass. He made small talk with the women. Or rather, they made small talk and he mumbled along with them.

Eulalia whispered something in his ear. Kurtzburg didn't manage to catch it, but it must have been sufficiently lewd as he felt a throb of arousal.

That was another thing that concerned Kurtzburg. Let's say they were escorts and someone—mistakenly or otherwise—had hired them to give Kurtzburg a wild night of sex. Could he? It had been a while. He was no longer young. What if his worries affected his... other parts?

Eulalia whispered some more in his ear. Kurtzburg didn't catch those words either, or even if they were words. Whatever they were, they stroked something in his brain, something that liked being stroked. Kurtzburg felt an erection rise in his pants. It was like Eulalia's whispers were flowing right down to Kurtzburg's cock and filling it up like water from a tap. Filling it up until it was straining against his underwear. Straining enough to be almost uncomfortable.

A hand brushed against Kurtzburg's tented crotch. Clearly not an accident. He jolted.

"Eulalia, are you using that filthy mouth of yours again?" Mystrella asked.

"I'd like to use this filthy mouth on his cock and give him a good suck," Eulalia said.

She reached into Kurtzburg's lap. A whole host of emotions collided in his head like a pile-up on a motorway. He sprang up out of the soft clutch of the lips sofa.

"I can't do this," he mumbled.

He turned to the door...

...and the room kept turning.

He felt giddy. Light-headed. He would have fallen had Mystrella and Eulalia not got up with him and supported him on either side.

Angela's mouth showed concern, but her eyes were smiling. "Are you okay, Mr Kurtzburg? That wine is quite strong. It looks like it's gone right to your head. Why don't you have a little lie down?"

Mystrella and Eulalia steered him over to the giant heart-shaped cushion. Or bed. Whatever it was, it was luxuriously soft. Kurtzburg sank right into it. He lay sprawled there and looked up at his reflection in the mirror on the ceiling. Three blurry versions of his face stared blearily back at him.

How'd he let himself get here?

The giant cushion heart was a little too soft and deep to be a proper mattress. Kurtzburg sank right into it. It was comfortable, but he suspected he'd have a bugger of a game getting out of it.

And get out of it, he should. He shouldn't have come back with them to their flat and he definitely shouldn't have drunk anything they'd offered him.

The bed was more difficult to get out of than he thought. Or he was more drunk—drugged?—than he thought. What was it made out of? Maybe it was filled with water or some other, denser, liquid. It moved with Kurtzburg and kept collapsing beneath him, denying him any kind of purchase to get back to his feet.

It couldn't be the wine, could it?

The four women stood at the foot of the heart-shaped bed and watched Kurtzburg's inept struggles with open amusement.

"I... uh... need a hand here," Kurtzburg said, even though he knew he wasn't going to get one.

"Now can we?" Lapine asked.

"Yes," Angela answered. "I don't think he's going anywhere."

"Thank fuck for that," Eulalia said.

The forms of the four women blurred and shifted before Kurtzburg's eyes. They became monstrous—demonic—yet strangely without losing any of their considerable attractiveness and sex appeal.

Lapine was still a lithe, long-legged beach bunny, except her tan had taken on a reddish tint. She had red devil horns, red devil bat wings and a slender red devil tail. She was completely naked. Kurtzburg would have been excited to see her pussy, except what she had between her legs was a mouth with plump, sensual lips.

With her black horns, wings and tail, Mystrella resembled even more a sultry horror-movie vamp. Her leather corset had changed. Before, it covered her breasts. Now it framed them and showed them off like an expensive painting. Her tits were good enough to be framed like an expensive painting. Or would have if it hadn't been for her nipples. Or rather, the lack of them. In their place were sumptuous lips bunched up as if pouting for a kiss.

Eulalia had grown a pair of ram's horns. They emerged from her honey-coloured hair and curled down behind her—now pointed—ears. The lines of her face had subtly altered, making her beauty look unearthly and supernatural. It was most pronounced in her lips. They had swollen and become so irresistibly ripe they exerted a strong magnetic pull on Kurtzburg's gaze.

Lastly there was Angela. She seemed to have grown even taller and her presence even more overwhelming. Her skin was bright red in colour, like a devil. And also—like a devil—she had horns, bat wings and a long, whip-like tail terminating in an arrow-pointed tip. Her horns were long and black and stood straight up. She had cloven hooves instead of feet. Despite all this, she was none the less attractive for it. Naked, her body was complete knockout.

"Well Mr Kurtzburg," Angela said. "You did ask what we get from this, and now you know. We're succubi. We feed off sex."

"And tonight we're going to feast," Eulalia added.

Fu-u-u-uck, Kurtzburg thought. He was nerdy enough to know what a succubus was. They were a staple of fantasy RPG games. They fucked men to death... sucked out their life and soul. They were also fictional monsters that shouldn't exist at all, but Kurtzburg wasn't about to take any chances, especially as pretty strong evidence of their existence was standing right before his eyes.

He kicked out and bucked and thrashed and tried—unsuccessfully—to get off the bed.

Why couldn't he get off this damn bed?

Something was wrong with it. The cushion was sometimes spongy, sometimes like a bladder filled with water or some other, more viscous, liquid. It was whatever it needed to be to stop him going anywhere.

"That bed is rather special," Angela said. "You're not going to get out of it. And after you've tired yourself out trying, you'll find it's extremely comfortable to lie and relax on."

Kurtzburg yelled for help as loud as he could.

There was an awkward silence after his cries finished reverberating off the walls. Mystrella sighed. Lapine rolled her eyes.

"That's not going to achieve anything," Angela said. "Nobody lives around here and the walls are soundproofed."

"We wouldn't want to get disturbed when the action gets good and hot," Eulalia said with a salacious smile.

"And normally we don't have to worry about it," Angela said. "Normally the only cries we hear are cries of ecstasy from men balls deep in our luscious twats. But not you, Mr Kurtzburg. You're proving to be a most troublesome client. It's been, what, three years since you last got laid. I'd have thought you'd be overjoyed at the prospect of spurting your seed in our tight wet pussies."

Kurtzburg's cock tented his trousers at the mention of spurting seed in tight wet pussies. That was something he hadn't been able to do for a long long time.

"Ah, there it is," Angela said.

She settled on the bed next to Kurtzburg. Unlike him, her body barely dimpled the surface. She seemed immune to the unnatural grasp of the heart-shaped cushion.

"You should listen to your body. It knows what's good for you."

"I don't want to die," Kurtzburg said to the demon lying next to him.

Angela laughed. "Who said anything about dying? So melodramatic. All we want to do is give you a good fuck."

"We're succubi. We exist to fuck." Mystrella had positioned herself behind him, with her heavy breasts swaying over his head.

"And we're going to give you such a night of fucking you'll think you've died and gone to heaven long before the sun comes up." Eulalia lay down on the other side of him.

Kurtzburg closed his eyes. This couldn't be happening. It must be a hallucination. The drink was drugged.

Couldn't be happening. Couldn't be happening.

"Oh, stop fretting, Mr Kurtzburg," Angela said. "Enjoy our bodies."

She grabbed his hand and pressed it into her large boob. Her flesh might be red and demonic, but her breast felt soft and smooth beneath his fingers.

"We can do so many pleasurable things to you."

Eulalia took his other hand, inserted an index finger between her plump lips and sucked.

Oh wow, her lips felt incredible. So soft. The surface so silky-smooth. Her suck was like a long leisurely kiss. Kurtzburg imagined what those lips would feel like on his cock and his erection surged to full hardness. His pants suddenly felt uncomfortable and restricting.

"Girls, can't you see Mr Kurtzburg is in some discomfort here," Angela said.

Their hands all dived in to grab his clothes. Kurtzburg squirmed and tried to fight them off. Angela tsked. Her eyes flashed pink and...

...Kurtzburg was naked and lying on the bed. His shirt and trousers were hanging over the back of a nearby chair. He had no recollection of how they'd got there. Even his spectacles were gone. And the succubi were all over him, moaning and sighing in pleasure. Angela had one of his hands clamped between her tits. Eulalia was sucking on the fingers of his other hand. Mystrella was doing the same to his toes. And Lapine...

She was standing astride him in full naked glory.

"Our Lapine is very young and energetic, Mr Kurtzburg," Angela said. "You don't need to do a thing. Just lie back and let her—"

"Fuck your brains out," Lapine finished for her.

Her hand reached down between his legs and stroked up and down his erection. Energy seemed to crackle from her fingers and into him. He sucked in a breath, his erection swelled further and his body throbbed in anticipation.

Lapine straddled him and whipped her long silky blonde hair behind her shoulders. Kurtzburg felt a surge of excitement. He was about to have sex... with a girl as good-looking as this?

Then he remembered her vagina looked more like a mouth.

It was too late. Lapine steered his erection to the plump, sensual lips between her legs and swallowed him up. Or rather, sucked him up. It felt like soft, supple lips drawing his cock into a mouth, but inside there was far less room, just warm fleshy walls pressed tightly up around him. She gave a satisfied moan as she sank down on top of him.

Kurtzburg let out a sharp exhalation. Wow, her vagina felt so good. It had been a while since he'd felt this.

Lapine shifted position in his lap. Her silken inner walls undulated around him.

Scratch that. He'd never felt anything as good as this.

It had been so long since Kurtzburg had had sex, he was a little uncertain about what was expected of him. He reached down to place his hands on Lapine's hips, only for the succubus to take his hands and press them down into the red heart cushion.

"Better to let her get on with it," Eulalia advised. "You'll only hurt yourself trying to keep up."

Lapine swung her long blonde hair about as she smoothly bounced up and down on Kurtzburg's cock. She rode him with liquid grace. His cock slid back and forth inside her tight pussy.

"This is how the humans do it, isn't it?" she asked.

"Yes, but not quite so vigorously," Eulalia said.

"Oh," Lapine said. "But I was just warming up. I was going to go faster. Like this."

She sped up.

A lot.

Kurtzburg sank deeper into the heart-shaped bed as Lapine's hips rose and crashed into him. Again and again. Faster and faster. Her pussy was tight, but soaked with lubricating fluids. Kurtzburg felt her luscious walls stroke up and down his shaft as her hips moved up and down. Too fast. He didn't think he'd be able to hold on.

Lapine paused.

"The human way is fun, but it seems so inefficient," Lapine said. "So many wasteful up and down movements."

Kurtzburg lay flat out beneath her. He felt like he'd just been hit by an erotic truck.