A Succubus For Christmas

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A Succubus For Christmas Page 19

by M. E. Hydra


  Succubus? Wasn't that some form of mythical demon–ooh.

  Annette gave his cock a gentle little squeeze and the temporary burst of pleasure pushed aside all other thoughts.

  “Succubi are demons that feed on souls. During the act of sex they draw a man's essence into his sexual organs and consume it when he ejaculates inside them.”

  Her hand continued to pump up and down his cock with wet squelching noises.

  “This is what I'm doing to you right now, Mr Little. I'm drawing all your energy, your soul if you will, right here.”

  Her other fingers gently caressed his sac and Little arched his back as pleasure washed through his body. He felt a little odd, like his body and mind no longer felt quite in synch.

  “There are eight hundred and seventy-one known ways to extract the soul from a still-living human being,” Annette said, her hand gently pumping his cock. “The majority of those ways inflict excruciating agony on the victim. The succubus's method is far gentler. In a moment I will give you an orgasm so powerful you will ejaculate your own soul. I'm afraid this will prove fatal to you, Mr Little.”

  “You mean it'll kill me?” Little said. He definitely felt a little strange, like he wasn't quite tethered to the flesh of his body.

  Pleasurable as it was, this session had gone on long enough as far as Little was concerned. He commanded his body to sit up and was both surprised and scared when the command went unheeded.

  “I can't move,” he said. “What have you done to me?”

  “Relaxed your body totally,” Annette said. She still sat on his stomach with her back to him, her lubricated hand moving up and down his cock.

  Little couldn't move. He was helpless as she pumped her hand up and down his cock. With each stroke she drew more of his essence into his swelling balls, reeling him in like an angler would land a fish.

  “Why me?” he asked.

  “Please understand Mr Little. I bear you no grudge and feel no malice towards you. I simply require a human soul. It was your misfortune to be the first person to come along.”

  She ran the palm of her hand over the head of his cock, sending shockwaves of pleasure throbbing down the shaft.

  “A man's last moments with a succubus are said to be one of the greatest pleasures in existence,” Annette said.

  She reached into a bowl and poured more of the thick oil onto Little's cock. He groaned in pleasure as the warm liquid ran down his shaft. His hips thrusted upwards of their own accord. Annette rode him with serene calm, her fingers gently caressing his balls, drawing more of his essence into his sexual organs.

  “While I am a mere amateur in the arts of pleasure by comparison, I trust you will find my attentions satisfactory.”

  Her hand slid up and down his cock, making little wet squelching noises as she massaged more of the blissful oil into his flesh. Little's body quivered and shuddered beneath her.

  “Agk.” The pleasure was too much. His balls were swollen and ached with a need to release the pressure.

  “That's it. You're close,” Annette said. She took his cock in a double handed grip and slid her hands up and down.

  Little convulsed beneath her. He felt the beginnings of an orgasm stir inside him, an orgasm powerful enough to tear him to pieces. His face contorted with the effort of trying to hold it back.

  Annette calmly sat astride his convulsing form and squeezed his cock with long, languid strokes. Little felt moisture on his stomach as juices dripped from Annette's aroused pussy.

  “Relax. Don't fight it. Most men grow old and grey without ever experiencing pleasure such as this.”

  “Gah!” Little thrashed his head.

  Too much. Too much. His balls were boiling. He had no control over his body. It was hers. She'd taken hold of his animal impulses and used them to enslave the rest of his flesh. His body burned with the desire to come.

  “Yes, that's it,” Annette said, pumping his cock faster and harder. “Your body wants release. Let your body release.”

  Oh god, it felt so good. He couldn't hold back. He had to release. He had to…

  “Nghhhhhhh!”

  Little's hips jerked upwards as his cock erupted like a geyser. He had scant moments to experience true ecstatic release before the force of the orgasm tore his soul from the moorings of his body like a tsunami ripping through boats in a harbour. He was carried up and out of his body like ash from an erupting volcano.

  For a moment his essence swirled in the air like gossamer silk. He looked down and watched as Annette rode his body with supreme poise, still milking the last of his essence from his traitorous cock as his body convulsed beneath her. She looked up and fixed him with her glittering hazel eyes, smiling as her hands took hold of the strands of his ethereal form and began to spool them around her fingers.

  Her eyes loomed closer and closer, sparkling like crystals as their hard edges and angles first filled and then became his world, fixing him for all eternity in a cold hard prison.

  * * * *

  Annette Brite stared at the blood-red crystal in her hand and smiled. Here was the human soul she required.

  She stood up, ignoring the airbed as it squeaked beneath her and looked down at Little's motionless corpse. His cock stood up like a flagpole and his face was contorted in an expression of ultimate bliss.

  “I said I would give you a happy ending, Mr Little,” she smiled.

  Incall with a Succubus

  Jack Newman checked the house number against the address on the card. It was the third time he'd done it since climbing the small flight of steps that led up to the front door. He knew it was nerves. He'd never done this before, had never even considered it.

  He reached up to push the doorbell and his finger stopped just before pressing the button.

  He checked the address on the card again. Just to make sure.

  He looked up and down the street. There was no one around. Bridgwater was a quiet residential area, a little way out from the centre of town. The row of immaculate town houses extended up the hill in an unbroken terrace. It was a nice neighbourhood. Jack had considered buying a house here for his daughter once she graduated from university.

  He reached for the bell again. Once again his finger stopped just before the button.

  Come on. This was ridiculous.

  He jabbed his finger forward. He heard the far off chimes of a bell somewhere deep inside the house.

  Now he'd done it. Too late to back out now.

  * * * *

  “Don't you think you were a little harsh on Susan back there?” Kimberly Yeovil said as they walked along a corridor in the Houses of Parliament. “Her heart is in the right place.”

  “Her suggestion was impractical,” Jack replied. “People don't need dreams and idealism, they need to be given the means to improve their own lives.”

  “I know, but you didn't have to cut her down so forcefully.”

  No he didn't, Jack thought. Susan was one of his junior assistants. She was young, eager and very intelligent. Jack just hated to see talent wasted in woolly pie-in-the-sky thinking. The smaller policies might not catch the headlines, but they stood a better chance of positively impacting people's lives.

  “Could I have a quiet word?” Kimberly said once they reached his office.

  “Of course,” Jack replied.

  He followed the Deputy Chief Whip into his office. Kimberly closed the door after him.

  “You're a good man and a fine MP Jack, but I worry about you,” Kimberly said, sitting down behind his desk. “We all have needs whether we realise it or not. What happened was tragic and I can understand why you'd want to lose yourself in your work, but I've seen the results of too many good people denying their basic natures. They become irritable and isolated, or they take reckless risks and get found out and destroyed by the tabloids.”

  He reached over and handed Jack a small white card. Jack read it and looked up at Kimberly in surprise.

  “Are you serious?” he asked. “Is
n't this one of your reckless risks? What if the papers found out? They'd have a field day.”

  “They won't. She's very discreet.”

  Jack stared at Kimberly, looking for the slightest trace that this was a joke. There was none.

  “She's special. Have fun.”

  * * * *

  Jack fidgeted nervously on the doorstep. This was a mistake. He shouldn't be here. What if someone saw and recognised him?

  Jack was about to bolt when the door swung open in front of him. Revealed in the doorway was a strikingly beautiful girl. Her black hair was cut short in a stylish bob, framing an elegant, enigmatic face. She was very attractive, but also aloof, like she'd been carved from marble by a master artisan. She was wrapped in a white fur coat and inexplicably was wearing large black sunglasses even though it was night time. She reminded Jack of chic actresses from French movies.

  “Nicole?” Jack asked.

  “Yes, and you must be Mr Newman. Please come in.”

  Jack entered and Nicole closed the door behind him. As she took his coat she came close enough for Jack to smell her perfume. He hadn't encountered this fragrance before. It was exotic, yet subtle enough to tantalise rather than overpower him.

  “Would you like a drink?” Nicole asked. Her voice held the faint trace of a foreign accent. Not French though, maybe Eastern European.

  His mouth did feel a little dry. “I wouldn't say no to a glass of red wine, as long as it's not too much trouble.”

  “No trouble at all,” Nicole said. She smiled and beckoned him to follow.

  Jack was a little surprised at how ordinary her house looked. It was well-kept and not that much different from most other houses he'd visited. They entered a spacious, modern kitchen and Nicole poured him a glass of wine. He took the first gulp a little too fast and it felt like a hard pebble in his dry throat.

  “You're not drinking?” he asked, noticing she hadn't poured herself a glass.

  Nicole shook her head. “I don't drink wine,” she said.

  Jack took another swallow of wine, this time a sip. The wine was better than he expected. It was sweet and had a slightly fragrant bouquet that made him think of leaves falling in autumn.

  “So what…er…happens now?” he asked.

  Nicole smiled. Her moist red lips parted slightly to reveal her white teeth.

  “Whatever you wish,” she said, “within reason.”

  Jack took another sip. He nervously dabbed his lips with his tongue. A host of different emotions and desires were charging back and forth across his body.

  “We don't have to get started right away,” Nicole said. “We can talk for a while if it would make you feel more comfortable. I don't believe in running a meter.”

  “Yes…thanks…” Jack said. “I'm sorry. I haven't done this before.”

  “That's okay,” Nicole smiled warmly. “It's the first time for a lot of my new clients. Think of this as harmless fun between consenting adults and those nerves will go away in no time.”

  “I wish I could,” Jack said. “The guilt keeps getting in the way.”

  “A conscience, in a politician, I would have thought that was a liability.”

  “We're not all as bad as the papers try to make out,” Jack said.

  “So who's footing the bill for this evening's fun?” Nicole asked playfully.

  “Me,” Jack replied. “I don't use taxpayer's money for my own personal entertainment.”

  “An honest politician as well, I do appear to have come across a rare breed. What makes an honest man want to enter a career as disreputable as politics?”

  “I wanted to do some good,” Jack said. “I started my own business, got lucky and made my money. Now I feel like it's time to give something back.”

  Jack took another sip of wine and smiled. “Sounds corny doesn't it.”

  Nicole laughed. “No. It's sweet.”

  “I like it,” Jack said. “I used to be a problem solver for things that didn't matter. Now I can use the same skills to actually help people's lives.

  “What about you?” he asked. “How did you come to be in this…” He realised what he was saying. “No. Forget I asked. It's none of my business.”

  Nicole laughed even louder at his discomfort. “It's okay. I don't mind,” she said. “I do it because I like sex and the money is good. Don't pay too much attention to what the moral crusaders say. We're not all victims.”

  It was good to hear that, but Jack did wonder if she was saying it for his benefit. Those sunglasses preyed on his mind a little. He wondered what they might be hiding. He doubted her profession was a bed of roses, even at the top.

  “So what brings an honourable servant of the people to my highly disreputable little house?” She rolled her tongue over 'disreputable' like it was an organ to be pleasured and Jack felt a little erotic shiver slither down his spine and nest in his balls.

  It had been so long since he'd enjoyed the company of a woman.

  “A friend recommended you. He knew I was lonely and he said you were very discreet.”

  “I imagine that was a hard sell,” Nicole said.

  “You could say that,” Jack laughed. “It's not every day a respected colleague suggests engaging the services of a 'Professional Relaxation Therapist'.”

  “That's a nice title,” Nicole said. “The old words have such a stigma attached to them.”

  “I think I know which words the tabloids would use if they found out,” Jack said. “I've watched those rags tear apart too many lives over a minor moment of weakness.”

  “And yet you're still here,” Nicole said.

  “Yes,” Jack said. “I don't know why.”

  He must be insane to take such a ludicrous risk with his career. There was an urge within him though, he tried to ignore it, but it nudged him nevertheless, nudged him all the way into the house of a…he couldn't even bring himself to whisper the word in the confines of his own mind. This was not him.

  “I do,” Nicole replied. “It's an animal need. Your body needs it as much as it needs to eat or breathe and the body always overrules the brain.”

  She noticed Jack's discomfort.

  “It's been a long time hasn't it?”

  “Over five years,” Jack admitted truthfully. “My wife died. Cancer,” he added. “There's been no one since. I don't think anyone could ever replace her in my heart.”

  “Oh, I am so sorry to hear that,” Nicole said.

  An image of Geneviève entered his mind. It was the time they went sailing off the Isle of Wight. Her auburn hair was blowing in the wind as the sea sprayed behind her.

  “I'm sorry,” Jack said. “I don't think I should do this. I'll leave the money and go.”

  A warm hand touched his and electricity crackled with her touch.

  “Please stay,” she said, looking up at him. “You need this.”

  Jack's heart raced in his chest. It had been so long. He knew he should leave, but his feet didn't move.

  “My friend said you were special,” Jack said.

  Nicole smiled.

  “Did your friend say anything else about me?” she asked.

  “No,” Jack said, a little puzzled. “Should he have?”

  Nicole turned away and carefully took off her sunglasses. “Please excuse me Mr Newman. I'm afraid this will be quite a shock to you.”

  Shock? What was she talking…then Nicole turned back to him and Jack fell back in horror.

  She had no eyes. Where were her eyes? Jack stared into two empty black pools. It was like looking through two windows into the void.

  The horror didn't end. Two wings, black and leathery like those of a giant bat, erupted from her back and sent shadows skittering over the pristine surfaces of the kitchen.

  She was on him before he even had a chance to draw breath to scream. Two hands gripped either side of his face and her soft lips crushed against his in a kiss. He took a breath and his lungs filled with a strong musky perfume that sent his heart pounding and hi
s senses spinning. His cry was smothered in her hot mouth and dancing tongue. Her wings blotted out the light as they wrapped around him and crushed his body against hers in a tight embrace.

  She held him like that, breathless in her kiss, until fires ignited in his veins and drove the fear away. The passion was too much. Pure naked desire surged through his body like a wildfire out of control. Too much. It was overwhelming him. He was falling. He was fall–

  * * * *

  Jack opened his eyes. He was naked and lying on a large, soft bed. Black silk sheets felt luxuriously smooth against his exposed skin. He looked around and realised the bed was perfectly round. Beyond it stood a ring of black candles. They suffused the room with an intimate glow and filled the air with aromatic smoke.

  Nicole sat at the foot of the bed, revealed now in her true form. Her eyes were two windows into the abyss. Small jet-black horns protruded from each temple. Her naked flesh, pale almost to the point of being white, was covered in an intricate series of lines and whorls, as if a master alchemist had run out of blackboard space and had continued to scrawl across her body instead. She sat with her knees tucked up against her breasts and her wings partially folded around her like a cloak.

  She was the most beautiful thing Jack had ever seen in his life.

  No, that wasn't quite right. Beauty was too abstract a concept. She was the most desirable thing Jack had ever seen in his life.

  Nicole gently wafted her wings and a warm, perfumed breeze passed over Jack's body, causing his skin to tingle.

  “Welcome to my bedroom,” she whispered, her words dripping with honeyed sin. “Please forgive the manner in which I brought you here. I find it the best way to get my first time clients over the shock of what I really am.”

 

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