Sleazy’s: The Mage
Lamia can take size and strength from whoever she coils around, getting more than she really should from it. She has an agreement with the succubus bartender at the bar she frequents though: I can use the bed in the back whenever I want, but you get to feed on me and whoever I grab for the night. When she grabs a cute little mage, she and her partner get much more than planned as she slowly releases the seals on herself.
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Sleazy’s isn’t the kind of place nice people go.
That’s what makes getting one inside so damned hard.
It’s not that it’s an ugly bar. It’s not. There’s a lot grosser watering holes along the highway. It’s more it has that look. You know the one. The kinds of places you pass as you’re driving, and they’re the only building for miles. You see a motorcycle out front, and already your mind is taking off. They sell crank. Women. The burgers are made from human flesh. Everyone’s on some kind of drug.
You’ve no idea how badly Lila and I wish that were true. At least then the rubberneckers might get out.
No, we’re just a bar. A clean one, a nice one, but one forgotten by the simple nature of poor location. I could weave you the whole sob story about how a highway was supposed to come through. Lila, she took everything she owned and sold it for this place. But that isn’t going to fill the stools at the bar. It isn’t going to put chink in the tip cup.
Everyone loves a sob story until it’s time to pay up.
No, Sleazy’s wasn’t where nice people went. It’s not even the kind of place people at all went. But I did, along with a few regulars.
It was the only place where I didn’t get yelled at for my tail.
Oh, Hi. I’m Tina. Mind the tail. It’s not for show. Yes, it’s real. Yes, it’s attached. No, I can’t grow it back. There. That’s all you were going to ask, right? If you were cute, I’d add something like “oh honey, I’m all natural”. If you were a guy, I’d even wink. It’s so creepy to be on the receiving end of that, but gods. Do the warm-bloods go nuts when I do it. Lila, she’s the horned lady by the bar. She’s real, too. She’s a tad more playful about it than I am-but don’t you dare make a short joke.
Over there is Ol’ Russ. I’m sure his real name is “Russel” or something. He doesn’t talk much, but between the poncho and the eight legs, most folks don’t talk to him either. Over there, long fingers at the piano? That’s Langston. That’s not a crack on him being a skeleton, either. He’s Langston. You’ve read his works, right? Stick around long enough, and he’ll make you cry. Promise.
There you go. That’s Sleazy’s most nights. Sometimes we get a scraggler from the road. Some road-weary biker, the occasional cocaine cowboy. They come in, wide eyed and shaky. But they still sit down, they still order. They oogle like we’re some kind of zoo, then leave. Always in a damned rush, their stool swiveling. We’re lucky if they pay. Poor Lila. But I’m not here to piss and moan about them.
No, see? On occasion, we get a real interesting customer. I don’t mean that as some euphemism either. I’m not slithering around bias or some crap. No, when someone purposefully comes to Sleazy’s?
It means they’ve came packing. A story, coin. The latter is nice, but it’s the former I wanna give you now.
Before I start, you’re going to buy me a drink. You’re going to say I’m cute, and you’re going to put your hand on mine. I need the comfort, alright?
Lila, two fingers of whatever. They’re paying.
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Okay, listen. It’s a shitty start, but it WAS actually a stormy night.
Russ was propped up in his booth like always. Tequila dreams and his hat pulled down. Langston had just got done for the night and lit one up. Doubt he gets anything from it, but habits die hard right? I think that’s why he keeps playing too. Even the grave couldn’t keep him from the keys. Lila and I were at the bar. I was helping her with her nails. You think being a succubus she could do it herself, but that’s the unpretty part. See, her horns? Hooves, nails? All that shit, I gotta help with. Poor girl grows ’em like wild and if it weren’t for me, she’d be too thorny to get close to. Much less pass health inspection. We were talking about nothing at all. Me and her, we’ve always been like that. Maybe it’s because of what she is-a barkeep, I mean-but talking comes easy with her.
I like that about her. It’s why we’ve an arrangement-but uh, I’ll get to that.
So like I said, we got odd types. The occasional idiot following an urban legend. The religious cult down the road-Children of the Crow Mother? I’ve no idea. They wear all these black feathers. Then there’s this one guy, he comes almost enough to be a regular. He says he’s a writer, but he’s got this look about him. Most of the time, these oddballs are just pure entertainment. That’s it. They come in, they buy some drinks, and act nuts until they pass out. If they don’t look dangerous, we call them a ride. But if they scare us? There’s a bed in the back. Real comfy like, all goose feathers. They sleep like a babe, wake the next morning and stagger off. There’s a feel to these customers, a baseline you get the moment they come through the door. You can call it a feeling if you want to be romantic. Most of the time though, you just now.
This night though, with the rain pouring and the thunder?
Well.
Nice people don’t go to Sleazy’s. Least of all on nights like that. So when that door swung in, I pulled away from Lila’s hands and looked.
I guess I’d expected the boogeyman. Not THE boogeyman, naturally. He only comes around once a year. But you know, a metaphorical one. Some real twisted son of a bitch that would brave flash floods for a beer. Hell, I half expected the writer. But standing there dripping on our mat? With a peel of thunder tearing ass across the sky? Well-I’m not saying short people can’t be intimidating. I’m not SAYING their height alone made me snort.
But I am saying I knew for a fact Lila was going to card them.
They weighed maybe a buck ten in their soaked clothes. They had a wide brim hat, gray as the water falling outside. They had on a navy coat, and these black rubber boots that disappeared into a simple gray skirt. The coat is what got me thought. It wasn’t like you see most wear-those sport, sterile affairs with zippers and logos. This thing, it was ratty. Had holes in pockets, and these garrish loop straps. Most of all though, it looked ten sizes too big. Like it was supposed to fit their dad or something. This sentient pile of rags, it stepped forward and lifted it’s hat.
Doing that, it just made Lila sigh.
If they didn’t have ID, this was going to get very awkward.
The face that peered from the hat was smooth, pale and pink. It had simple lips like a doll. The cheeks were round, and framed by straight, white bangs that poured from the brim. The thing that caught my attention most was the eyes. One was covered by a simple black patch-and the other was a radiant blue. Like a clear summer sky without a single cloud. It’s not that they were pretty-it’s that “pretty”, as a rule, is hard to come by here.
They smiled, and stepped towards the bar.
Maybe it was the fact Langston wasn’t playing. Maybe that was emphasized by the fact Russ had stopped snoring. But things got really quiet in that moment. Which, considering the way the windows had been rattling with the thunder, only made those footsteps louder. Wouldn’t think such a small thing could step like that, but their boots squeaked the whole way. When they finally got to the bar, I had to hold back a snort.
Their head JUST cleared the stool. They clambered up all the same, and took their hat off. They laid it right on the bar with a smack as white hair cascaded down their shoulders. That doll face, it grinned real big and said “One whiskey sour, please!” with a squeak.
There was a pause-one that broke seconds later but uproaring laughter. From Lila and I to the rattling of Langston, the dry heaves of Ol’ Russ. We all let loose one hell of a rip, and the newcomer frowned.
“Did I say something wrong? Th-this is a bar, right? I didn’t come to the wrong place?” said the voice, it’s alto squeak making it that much harder to stop.
Lila shook her head, and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “No, no. We’re a bar alright. Got some ID kid?”
At this, the doll face perked up. The newbie pulled at neck of their coat, and reached within. “I sure do! Hold on just one sec. I swear it’s just right here-“
I watched as the hand plunged deeper and deeper. It was just momentary-but I saw a sliver of skin. Pale, just like the rest of them. Soft as snowballs, judging by the jiggle. The newbie pulled out a tube of paper, and laid it on the bar. They unfurled it from the top, and turned it to face Lila. The succubus arched her brow, read for a moment, then snorted as she waved the paper away.
“Well, it’s not a driver’s license. But it’ll do. Whiskey sour, right?”
“Y-yes ma’am!” said the newcomer. They lifted a hand, and snapped their fingers.
I still think sometimes I was just too drunk. That it was a trick of the light, some crap like that. But the paper was there-then it wasn’t. Not a single scrap. There was a slight smell in the air just then-like flowers and electricity, but it passed. Lila turned towards the bottles behind her, and went to work. I leaned closer to the newbie, and flicked my tongue.
See, when most see me do that? They think it’s some kind of sensual thing. Like with the winks, right? You probably thought the same thing. It’s okay. Fact is though, I’m not looking for you to gag me. That’s an entirely DIFFERENT thing with my mouth.
I’m testing the air.
See, snake folk like me? Our tongues are sensitive. If there’s a minute change in heat, taste, in the air? I can tell it all with a single flick. It’s how I know if someone’s going to be a “problem” or not. Most people and stragglers, they stay at their same levels. Warm. Lila, she runs a bit hotter. Langston is cold, and I’ve never dared flicked at Russ. This newcomer though?
They ran hot. Really, really hot. Think of pressing your tongue to a scalding tea kettle, but a thousand times worse. So I flicked again, half convinced I was having an off night.
Flicking at this person, I might as well have tongued the sun. This pipsqueak, this dimutive little fucking nerd, they radiated like nothing I’d ever tasted. Lila turned, her eyes cutting to me as she slid the drink over. I smiled, and leaned in closer to the newcomer still. Lila smirked, and snapped her fingers at Langston. Keys struck chords, and I smiled as that face turned towards mine.
I gave them my name, just like I did you.
They bought me a drink, just like you.
What came of that night though, well.
Have you ever wondered how the bar got its name?
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Let’s take this from the top.
We’re monsters, all of us. Don’t give me that look. It’s not a slur, not around here. It’s a fact of life. A succubus barkeep? Her friend, with their entire lower half encased in scales? A skeleton, and-well, WHATEVER Russ is. Monsters, all of us. And while our needs might be different, we’re a lot like you. We like friends. We like a good drink. That’s why we’re here.
But there’s another part to it, something I don’t suppose I need to tell you. I mean, it’s nothing bad. You didn’t see bodies, bones and skulls around, right? I bet you didn’t. You figured to yourself you were safe then-even after stepping through the door. Good. That’s good. Because our feeding, it is safe.
Oh, don’t pale on me like that. Hold still. Your hands still in mine. You haven’t ran away just yet. And you’re not going to, are you?
Yes, we feed. And it’s safe. Lila and I, our needs are just alike. That tongue flick? The whole reason I do it is to gauge energy. That’s what helps me keep these curves you’ve been eyeing. Lila’s the exact same. Her and I, we’re not just friends. We’re dinner buddies. See, I flick patrons and see if they’re up to snuff. If they are, we take them in the back. It’s where her bed is. Big, king sized and soft. It’s the same one we toss the rowdies on.
Sometimes they go for me, sometimes they go for her.
Nobody gets upset when their second choice shows up.
We kiss, we fondle. We let them squeeze wherever and whatever they want. Then we pin them. Lila, she likes to spread them flat and straddle. I wrap my coils around them real tight. Either way, we get the legs. The hands.
Then it’s our turn to get our fill.
No, we don’t eat them. No bones, remember?
You look fairly smart. Take a guess for me. If you’re right-I’ll let you see it first hand. How’s that?
That good with you, Lila?
But anyways, this newbie. The one running hot as hell. I’d never tasted something like that before, so I started the pitch right away. Lila kept the drinks coming, and I signaled to her to make SURE they kept coming. The short with the doll face, her name was Lizzy. Cute thing, really. Just graduated from some college, Miska-something or other. Got some useless anthropology degree, yada yada. Lotta good that’s going to do her in the desert. But we get her drink, and I tease her with my tail. Wrapping it around her. She gets all giggling and talks about how warm I am. I smirk, and crack some joke about getting warmer. Then she blushes.
That’s how it usually goes. People get all giggly, a little handsy. Then they’re in the back, all the color drained from their face. Lila’s laughing and smacking our new boobs against each other. So when the moment was right, I kept to the script. Langston rolled out with a rattle, and Russ clambered up the wall and out a window. I gave Lila the signal, and she leaned over the counter. Her breasts smacked against the top, and I watched as Lizzy peered right at them.
Gotcha.
A few jokes, a few more empty glasses, and Lizzy was riding atop my tail as we slithered to the back room. Even with both arms wrapped around me, she wobbled atop me and shouted at the top of her lungs.
“I’m THE next *hic* SUPREME!”
Lila snorted, and said “Sure thing, sweety. And you can show us alllll that power in just a sec. Let’s lie you down, okay?”
Lizzy didn’t have to be asked twice. Hell, we didn’t even have to ask her to “make herself comfortable”. Miss five-foot-nothing peeled out of her coat, her skirt. They met the floor, and she jumped atop the bed in nothing but boy shorts. She bounced atop the mattress, Lila and I just staring on. It wasn’t unexpected-but it was pretty bold. Getting naked with a bunch of strangers, I mean. But Lizzy kept on bouncing, her b-cups jiggling as she laughed and laughed.
“Y-you two wanna fly too? You want to?”
I snorted, and said “Sure kid, uh-could you make some extra room on the mattress for-“
That’s as far as I made it. Seriously, ‘for’. That was the last word out of my mouth before Lizzy snapped her fingers, and that smell came again. Flowers and electricity filled my nostrils as I floated off the ground, my tail flailing manically as I rose. I just stared at the floor, jaw slack as Lizzy giggled.
“You too! You too!” she said. Lila’s head whipped around-and then came another snap.
Lila floated alright-only she rose too fast, and almost hit the ceiling. I wrapped a coil around her in time, and pulled her in. Her eyes were wide as her face came into view, and cut between Lizzy and me.
Then it struck me like a ten pound hammer on a tin nail.
Lizzy was running hot for a reason. One very specific, magical reason.
“Oh shit,” I muttered.
“Mage,” sputtered Lila.
Then came Lizzy’s laughter as our faces met. It wasn’t like Lila and I haven’t kissed-but this was like a kid shoving two dolls together. Our faces rubbed and rubbed, and I caught a glance of Lizzy. She lay on the bed, her breath ragged as her fingers wavered back and forth.
“Awww, you two are super cute…and hot…and I…fuck. Is this weird? Is it weird if I touch myself?” she said, each word slurred on the next.
Lila jerked her neck back, and forced a smile. “U-uh, no! Not at all, we uh-we don’t mind. But could you put us down?” she said.
Only Lizzy didn’t. Lizzy didn’t do that because her hand was already in her panties, fingers rolling beneath a thin layer of white cotton. She cupped her breasts, her hips bucking into her fingers as she did.
“Oh fuck, fucking-this is good, this feels so fucking good,” she cried out as she writhed.
Which, frankly, wasn’t the problem. Hell, under other circumstances, I might have even thought it was really hot.
But Lila and I were still under her spell.
Every thrust, every buck sent Lila and I rubbing against one another. Our lips pressing, our tongue rolling over each other’s skin. Lizzy would raise her hips to fuck herself harder, and Lila’s cunt would meet my mouth. When Lizzy tore away her panties, Lila’s top split down the middle.
To this day, I’ve no idea WHY Lila left her dildos laying out. But Lizzy found them, drunk on drink and herself as she was. She raised the biggest, thickest one she could find. It was this dark green number, meant to look like an ogre. Her eyes were wide as she looked at it, her mouth slack.
“Oh helloooo handsome,” she muttered as my tail lifted into the air.
As she worked it against her slit, Lila’s legs were jerked open.
By the time the head was inside, I was writhing and wriggling within Lila’s walls. My friend’s eyes spasmed, her face blushing deeper as she arched her back. As she took me deeper, the mage mounting the toy on the bed.
Do you know how hard it is to make a succubus cum? Like, actually have an orgasm, not just faking it for someone?
Do you have ANY idea how long I was inside of Lila? Because I do. Long enough to get wet myself. Long enough for both of us to realize just how nice it felt to be bound, to be controlled. By the time Lizzy came, her eyes rolling back?
Lila and I didn’t have to be controlled anymore.
We wanted to be.
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So.
There you go.
Welcome to Sleazy’s. You know all the regulars, and you seem like a nice enough sort. But I’d also like to introduce you to a friend of mine. No, not Lila, you lush.
This other girl, she’s a real brainiac. She’s got a space in the back you’re just going to love. And don’t worry if you stagger-she can work with that.