A servant of a succubus is turned into one and learns that for her, self-worship can give her more power as if she is draining a mortal. She is still bound to her mistress and a portion of her power is always “taxed”.
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I mean I wasn’t expecting anything, but stubs?
Fucking stubs for horns?
Like yeah, sure. The boobs are great. The hips are great. But these little dark nubs at my hairline, they’re the first thing my eyes focus on. Morgana, my miss, she’s got these huge, curved and elegant things. You know like in National Geographic when they cover mountain goats? Like that, but you know-dignified. They’ve this nice sheen to them, and refract light when she tilts her head. If she catches it just right? She turns it into a rainbow.
That’s how we met-Morgana and me. I uh, well. I’m kind of really new to this whole, like. Embodiment of lust, and-
“Oh, Lilly. You’re not picking at them again, are you?”
I nearly jump. I could have fucking sworn she wasn’t there. But I blinked, and boom. She’s impossible to miss, Morgana. I mean like, she’s six-ish or seven-ish feet tall? Does it even matter if you have to look up to talk to them? She’s fuck huge, okay? She’s big and tall and super pretty. But she carries it all without a hint of effort. The horns curl around her, the tips ending right at her angled chin. They do a fantastic job of holding her night-black hair in place, too. She’s got these plump, red lips that always seem to be smiling.
Except for now. They’re pouting, and her eyes are looking at me, looking at myself. My hands shoot straight to my sides, and I shake my head.
“H-HAH! Uh, no! Not at all, Miss! I’m just-”
“Lilly sweety, you don’t have to call me miss anymore. We’ve been over this. We’re colleagues in full now, okay?”
She always does this. Her and her stupid silky soft voice, with it’s sweet dulcet pronunciations that drip into your ear.
Look. I’m not like, in love with her or anything. I swear. I mean like, I greatly respect and admire her. A lot. And now that I’ve been bumped to an actual succubus, yeah. I suppose I owe her a lot. She’s been…
Well, fuck.
She’s been the only person to care in a long time. But love? Pssht. Don’t even say that word.
She’s my miss. Co-worker. Something or other. I don’t rightly know how the tiers work, and when I think about it I get sca-
“R-right, I just. Um. Yeah, I was picking at them. Are you sure they’re suppose to be this small? I mean like, you’ve got such pretty ones, and I look like I’ve got gravel glued to my head,” I say. I lean forward, and press my index finger right against them. I wince as a warm, dull pain arcs across my skull. Morgana snorts, and leans forward.
She’s so close I can feel every syllable when she speaks. I can smell her, like cinnamon and honey. God I fucking love that smell.
“Lilly?”
“Yes?”
“What’s the first thing I told you about the business?”
I let out a sigh, and do my best to keep my eyes from rolling. Really, I try super hard, ‘cause she’s watching. But it happens all the same-I cross my arms and everything. Ew. I probably looked like a proper brat.
“Size doesn’t matter. But that’s different! It’s-it’s them, and this is me. And I just,” I say, but then I snap my jaw shut. I don’t take it that far, far enough to reveal the chink in it all.
I don’t have to though.
I never had to. My mi-Morgana-she just knew. Knew what I was going to say, and when.
Knew when I needed her hands to wrap around the soft pudge of my stomach.
When I needed her lips on my neck.
She’s so warm against me I almost melt then. There had been times before when like, I could tell it was “the succubus” doing this. But right now, here in this pillbox of a bathroom-it’s her. Morgana.
Someone who would hold me even if we weren’t demons.
My face warms, and I lift my hand to meet her chin. She kisses my neck, her lips inches from my ear.
“You just want to be the best. You want me to be proud. But I want you to know something-I’m proud of you every single day. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes miss,” I say. That time, it just might have been on purpose. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip and smile as she pinches me. But she doesn’t correct me. Instead, she raises a hand from my stomach. It glides up, past my cleavage, right to my chin. She grips it, and nuzzles right against my cheek.
“You’re going to be fine. I promise. And I don’t make promises I don’t keep, do I?” she says.
I answer with my lips instead of words. Morgana replies in kind. Our clothes-ones I had so carefully prepared for my job that night-meet the floor. She cups my ass, and raises me up on the sink. That warmth from before, it melts all over me.
And for a while, I don’t worry about my horns. Even a little bit.
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Okay so like, you gotta promise not to tell anyone. But being a succubi?
Dude, it’s such a racket.
Like okay, let me start from the top alright?
So. You’ve just got turned into the physical embodiment of lust. You’re never going to die, and you’re going to be super pretty forever. Awesome, right? Oh-and you’re only going to grow stronger as time goes on. Nice! Except all that power, it can’t do anything about how awkward you are. It can’t save you from social anxiety, compounded by the need to feed. No, you’re hyper pretty and money-shot inducing.
And you still can’t talk to people. At least, that’s my problem.
Morgana and I, we met just like that.
Like, it’s not like I hadn’t had offers. Guys, girls even. But they would start talking to me, and I’d just clam up. I’d start giggling, sweating. I’d cock it all up, and there I would be. Alone on a saturday night with Mister Cuddles, my cat. He’s a sweet boy, but a fat tabby can only do so much for you. He can’t take you out to dinner, or-
Okay, ew. That’s not a joke I should make. But the point is, if you’re lonely before you become a succubus? Well, the horns aren’t going to help that. They’re just going to make it worse.
There’s stones with more conversation skills than me. Like, I’m not bad-bad. But people can be so intimidating, you know? I mean just starting a conversation is daunting. You’ve all the stand-bys, but once you’ve ran through the weather and news-what is there? Soooooo, I-well.
I enjoyed a lot of my own company. Perhaps a bit more than normal people. Morgana told me once that’s what brought her. Me, being all pent up and stuff. I know better now-she just said that to get close to me. But, uh-ahem. So I stayed home a lot, and…yeah. All those fancy weird dildos you see girls use online? I’ve an entire chest of them. I’m not talking one of those CostCo cheap jobs either. Like a BIG wooden one, with leather straps and everything. I filled it to the brim.
That’s before we get to the ones I snuck in my purse. To work. When I went out. I didn’t think about it at the time, but looking back? Well, it’s weird how things connect sometimes, you know? It just made me feel good, and it was all I had. I’d talk to someone who had some interest. I’d get all warm in my stomach, and five minutes later I was in the bathroom. Six inches, eight. Twelve when I got home and had lube. I’d ride, splattering the bathroom stalls and my sheets.
But it still wasn’t enough. There wasn’t a voice to it. I tried having porn and stuff playing. Then I found ASMR, videos of people encouraging you. That kind of thing. I even tried warming some of my toys. But like-it just wasn’t it. It wasn’t a person beneath me, in me. It wasn’t a person cupping me. Touching me.
So like, I got curious right? Don’t give me that look-I bet you’ve weird stuff in your browser history too. So like, I had heard about succubi from all the bodice-rippers I read. These like, super sexy demons that come in the night and suck your soul out your tits. I figured that’s all it was-a literary device. Like how all werewolves are just super troubled men, that kind of thing. But when I started looking, I found the most peculiar things.
People wanting to summon them. People having success, even. At least claiming to. I figured what the hell, you know? I’d give it a shot. All I had to lose was my time. I sure as shit didn’t have dignity left, hah. I stole some instructions from an image board. I put Mister Cuddles up for the night, and closed my door.
Now, you’ve got to understand. I didn’t expect any of it to work. I thought it was just some ongoing joke about lonely people. The succubi stuff, the candles-it was all some kind of ruse.
Then Morgana showed up. Big as hell, without so much as a plume of smoke. She opened her mouth-and I started screaming. I was throwing things. Not a one of them hit her. She just giggled-and then I blinked.
That warmth, the kind I talked about in the bathroom? It was behind me for the first time. Her hands cupped my stomach, and she just held me. Held me until I stopped shaking, until I finally turned to face her. Inch by inch, I looked up into her face.
It was the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen.
Then she kissed me, and said I was alright. That it was all okay. That I was okay. I stood there, and I tried really hard not to cry. That lasted about three seconds. Morgana, she was the first person to talk to me like that in…ever. We stayed up the entire night, just talking. I unloaded on her, and she would just nod. She would slide a finger through my hair, and ever so gently kiss my neck.
Then she told me she didn’t have to go if I didn’t want her to. I didn’t have to do the banishment ritual.
So I didn’t.
And like, all that social awkwardness? All the panic about talking to people? She’s helped so much with that. I mean, it’s still there. Which leads me to here, right now, with you. You’ve got to promise me that you’re not gonna like-touch yourself or anything. I just-I just need to tell someone that isn’t her.
I just can’t let her down.
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Sooooooooo with being a succubus comes reading. And I’m not talking about all that crap online. See like, unlike life? There’s all these books you can refer to. By humans, by succubi! Infernal scrolls from the fifth dimension, stuff like that. It’s actually really, really great. Anything you could ever want to know is written down somewhere. You’ve just got to work up the nerve to think about it.
I mean, it’s not Google, but it’s almost as quick. You don’t get caught in nearly as many rabbit holes filled with cat pics either. You simply think of your question, and boom. The book you need is right there, on your night stand. It was pretty damn spooky when I started. And like, who keeps track of these books, you know? Like, I was terrified some infernal librarian was going to come after me. Chuck some fireballs and yell at me about late fees or something. But when none came, I relaxed. Just a smidge.
I’m still new. Even months out. So like, Morgana had her answers. All the basics, all the quality reassurances. But there were things-like now, with you-that I simply couldn’t ask. I was embarrassed alright? I mean like, do you have any fucking idea what it’s like to be in your thirties and say “Hey, I’ve no idea how to talk to boys?”
Gods just thinking about it makes me want to shrivel into my hoodie. And like, this was a basic thing I was expected to do. Talk to people. ‘Cause like, I needed them just to survive. Their sexual energy. Without it-well.
I can’t die. Morgana assured me of that much. But I could starve. Having hunger pains for eternity seems worse than death.
Turns out everything Succubi knew was wrote for confident people. Not introverts like me. Every single text I turned to, it just like-fuck. “Be yourself” is advice so fucking oblique it’s worthless. “Have confidence”-Gee, thanks infernal beings of infinite age and knowledge. Fucking fantastic. But there was one thing I stumbled across. Just by chance. A single paragraph tucked in the back of Feeding And You: The “Vegan” way to Consume the Damned.
So like, I’m no brainiac. Like, even a little bit. But the way it explained it, succubi are like, perpetual energy machines or something. Basically, we consume energy-but we never dissipate it. Like yeah, we get hungry, but we’re more like a power vacuum. Stuff goes in, and it doesn’t come out. One of the easiest ways to deal with it is self care.
That’s what the book called it. Self care. Something I’d been doing like, forever. Reading that? I couldn’t bust my chest of toys open quick enough. My stomach was rolling, and my hands shook a little. But I reached in and found the absolute biggest toy I could. Like, this thing was probably used by the ATF at some point to kick a door in. Big as my forearm and twice as fat, I hadn’t dared to use it when I was human. It was just scary, damned scary. I can’t even remember why I bought it now.
But as a succubi? As a magic dick vacuum of power? Hell, anything seemed possible. I got my lube, I slathered it down. It jiggled as I stroked it from tip to base. Every drip of lube seemed to make it throb.
Okay, so I might have drooled. Just a bit. Don’t you dare judge me for that. I put it on the floor, and stood on my bed. I tried to angle myself, a single stray thought in the back of my head saying this thing is gonna rearrange your small intestine. Your stomach is going to fucking BULGE.
Then I dropped down.
Like normally with my toys, I sometimes have to angle them. It’s not that I’m tight, but like? It’s just a big thing going into a small opening, you know? So I wiggled my hips on the tip. I tried to get even just an inch in, but I slipped. I had used so much lube that I just slid all over it, you know?
Which meant the tip rubbed right against my clit.
Okay so like, I was uber sensitive when I was a human. It’s half the reason I had all these toys, all these times I had to break away from life. My damned clit just had a mind of its own. But this? This shit was different. A single stroke against me had every synapse in my brain spasm. My spine went rigid, my jaw slack.
I’ll admit to drooling then.
I kept on rubbing, kept on rolling my hips against it. I leaned back on my bed, my spine arching at an angle that had been impossible before the nubby horns. I shuddered, and didn’t try to contain the moan that erupted from my lips. It was just too much. Like for the first time in months, I was making something happen. Not Morgana. When I came the first time, I nearly hit my fucking window.
Actually, yeah. I did. If you think regular cum is hard to get out of things, wait ‘till you’ve succubi jizz. I had to get holy water. Really.
Even with the splatter on the window pane, it wasn’t enough. I had to have more. Like, I’m totally used to intense heats. I got them all the time, you know? But this-this was thirst ascended Advanced thirst. Thirst prime. Warmth just billowed out of my cunt over every limb, every muscle. I felt like I’d taken my first breath, had my first heartbeat.
And I need more. So, so much more. I looked down at the toy, at my cunt still giving a weak squirt against the shaft.
I wiggled my hips closer, the sheets slick against my ass.
I stood on the bed, and brought myself back down.
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So like, funny thing about being turned. Or sired if you’re feeling fancy.
There’s literally nothing I can hide from Morgana. At first, I thought she just had this cutesy way of knowing. Intuition, that kind of thing. I mean like, she’s a demon. How could she not know, right? Truth is though, all succubi are psychically linked to the one that turned them. Morgana’s miss is retired, but she hears every little thought the old biddy has about tea and cats.
So uh.
Like.
Okay, so think of it like this. You decide to lock yourself in your room. You’ve the rare weekend off, and uh.
Well.
Let’s say hypothetically, you were to spend the entire weekend just like, endlessly orgasming. Just a veritable roller coaster of cumming, okay? Maybe you even went the extra mile, and put down tarps for clean up. I mean, my carpet isn’t water proofed and my landlord would-Uh, hypothetically.
I just thought I was getting stronger. Feeding on myself like that.
Then my miss showed up, her hair frazzled, her pajamas akimbo. I guess she’d been trying to get some sleep. I’d been right in the middle of another squirter when she just showed. I paused, and Morgana got real close to the bed.
It’s then I smelled her, the scent pungent. I looked down-and realized her fleece sheep pajama bottoms were sticking to her.
Remember when I said talking to people made me want to hide? Seeing my miss like that, I could have just died. I was so fucking embarrassed. But then she climbed atop me. Her hands pinned my wrists above my head, and I tried to meet her eyes.
I say “tried to”, because her cups had to have grown since we last talked. Morgana was a nice, warm size C. These? They were at least at “possible death by effortless suffocation” size. I damn near did, too. Morgana didn’t say anything. She just laid their atop me, her big ol’ honkin honga dungaroos cutting off my air supply. I tried to wheeze a greeting-then her lips were on mine. Warm, wet. They came to my ear, and she whispered one single thing.
Keep going.