A Succubus for Saint Patrick's Day and other tales

by M. E. Hydra

  His eyes shone as he walked over and opened the ornate little box. It was filled with white spherical pills. They looked like pearls or maybe even eggs. Smythe estimated there were maybe a hundred or more in the box. He picked one up and examined it between his thumb and forefinger.

  “This is the treatment?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Xie-Mu replied. “Take three a day—one in the morning when you wake up, one at lunchtime and one in the evening before you go to bed.”

  “What’s in it?” Smythe asked.

  Xie-Mu tapped her nose. “Secret clan recipe,” she said. “All natural ingredients.”

  “Powdered rhino horn and that sort of thing,” he said.

  Xie-Mu smiled and said nothing. Her face was completely inscrutable.

  And beautiful.

  “How can these little pills...” Smythe held one up to the light. It was even slightly translucent like a pearl. “...bring about a physical change in the body?”

  “You know how Viagra works?” the girl asked. “It loosens the muscles around the blood vessels entering the penis. The vessels open wider and more blood flows into the penis. This gives the man a longer lasting erection.”

  Smythe wasn’t interested in generating regular erections. He wanted bigger erections, whopping great erections that would have girls gasping and moaning in pleasure at the sight of him. He couldn’t see how a little pill would achieve this.

  “These pills work in a similar manner,” Xie-Mu said. “Your penis...” She stepped forward and placed a hand flat against Smythe’s crotch. He was surprised by her sudden invasion of his personal space, but pleasantly so. “...is like a bag of blood. When it fills up, you get hard. Increase the size of the bag and you increase the volume of blood it can hold. The more blood it holds, the larger an erect penis can get.”

  She ran her fingers up the outline of his dick as it lay in his pants. Smythe shivered in pleasure, feeling his cock start to strain against his underwear for the first time in a while.

  “The pills contain a hormone that acts on the tissues lining the blood vessels in the penis. It causes them to loosen and increase the capacity of blood your penis can hold.”

  Her fingers pinched him through his trousers.

  “Sounds fantastic,” Smythe said. “Why haven’t you found a way to mass-market it? You’d make billions.”

  Xie-Mu looked away. “The raw ingredients are rare and difficult to obtain. There is a reason the treatment is as expensive as it is.”

  That was true. This was a luxury far out of the reach of most individuals.

  “Aren’t you going to try it out?” Xie-Mu said, extra meaning in her eyes as she glanced sideways at him.

  Smythe looked at the pill between his thumb and forefinger.

  Why not?

  He popped it into his mouth and rolled it around on his tongue. It was sugar-coated and tasted sweet. Smythe knew most medicine tasted foul once the coating dissolved, so he swallowed it and washed it down with his cocktail.

  He waited for something to happen. The fear this might all be a highly expensive scam was still lurking at the back of his mind.

  Wait! He felt something. A twitch in his trousers.

  Xie-Mu turned to him with a seductive smile and rubbed a palm against his crotch.

  No, more than a twitch. That felt quite nice.

  Xie-Mu turned her back to him. She backed into him and rubbed the shapely curves of her ass against his groin. A twitch became a throb. She took his hands in hers and brought them around her body and pressed them against her breasts. He felt their weight and softness between his palms. She was very much atypical for an Oriental girl in this regard. Her nipples were hard like bullets. Smythe rubbed them beneath his fingers and Xie-Mu gave a soft sigh.

  “Would you really like to try it out?” Xie-Mu turned her head to him, letting Smythe’s lips brush across her smooth cheek.

  So it was the same as all those other furtive knocks on hotel doors, Smythe thought.

  “Yes,” he said. He didn’t really need much encouragement.

  Xie-Mu took a step forward. She turned her head back to glance at Smythe. She undid the sash around her waist. Her robe slipped off her shoulders and slid down her body to form a black puddle of silk at her feet. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

  What a body.

  Through his ‘hobby’, Smythe had seen a lot of beautiful women naked. He’d even gone on to fuck most of them. There were limits to what money could buy. Xie-Mu was almost in the category above—the one reserved for top actresses and models. Her body was a work of art.

  In more ways than one.

  Tattoos covered her body. Her skin, with the exception of her hands, neck and face, was a canvas of rich, fantastic imagery. Smythe had seen tattooed girls before, their adornments ranging from delicate little flowers or butterflies to larger designs sprawling across their back and shoulders, but he’d never stood in the same room as a girl tattooed to this extent.

  “Beautiful,” he said, running a hand across her shoulder.

  “It’s a tradition in my clan,” Xie-Mu said. “Outsiders sometimes find it a little strange.”

  “Not at all,” Smythe said. “It’s very exotic.”

  He traced a finger along the black wings inked over her shoulder blades. Unlike most tattooed wings, they were not the feathered wings of an angel. They were sable-black and looked more like the wings of a bat. Or devil.

  Perhaps she was showing she was a very bad girl indeed, Smythe thought with a grin.

  Or maybe they weren’t wings at all. They trailed streamers like the elaborate fins of tropical fish. They could be fins. There were similar, smaller designs tattooed on her lower back. Fins also fit in better with the rest of the tattoos.

  There was a marine theme to the artwork on her body. Her flesh was tattooed in different shades of blue. The seas of her skin were filled with fantastic sea creatures. Serpents, dragons, fish, sharks, crabs, squid; all formed an exotic collage on a background of blue waves and crashing foam. So much detail, Smythe thought. He could stare at her all night. How many hours had she lain beneath the tattooist’s needle?

  Smythe circled her and saw it wasn’t only her back she’d decorated. Her front continued the oceanic theme. Tentacles of octopi coiled around her breasts. A large crab with an iridescent shell stood atop her mons. Its claws reached up across her flat body until it looked like her navel was held aloft in its grasping pincers.

  Xie-Mu had had enough of Smythe admiring the intricate canvas of her body. Her hands slid behind his ass and she pulled his body close to hers. She rubbed up against Smythe’s groin and he felt a thrill surge through him.

  Xie-Mu’s almond eyes gleamed as she crouched down before him. She unbuckled his trousers and then pulled them down along with his underwear. Smythe’s erection bobbed out into the open air.

  Now that was a sight for sore eyes, Smythe thought.

  “Works fast,” he said.

  Xie-Mu didn’t say anything. She caressed a soft hand up and down his shaft. She stared at Smythe with deep brown eyes. Her mouth opened and she dabbed her pink tongue against the fleshy mushroom head of Smythe’s dick.

  Oh yes, he thought, closing his eyes as her moist tongue wrapped around the underside of his glans. A little shudder of pleasure ran through him as she guided him into the warm interior of her mouth.

  She cradled his balls in her hand and didn’t take her gaze off him as she bobbed her head up and down. She was good. Really good, Smythe amended, as he gave an involuntary quiver as she used her teeth to lightly run down his shaft. His hips started to follow the bobbing motions of her head.

  She was experienced enough to know to stop before pushing him over the edge too soon. For which Smythe was grateful. As much as he’d happily shoot his load right into the moist heat of her mouth, that would mean missing out on greater pleasures to come.

  She led him to a bed. Smythe lay back on the soft mattress as Xie-Mu climbed on top of hi
m. She had no compunctions about kissing. That wasn’t so unusual. The high class girls were high class because they knew exactly how to treat their clients. Even then, unless they were one of the really good girls, there was always a sense of them holding back. Not so with Xie-Mu. She lay on top of him—her lithe body against his—and kissed him with all the passion of first love. Smythe put his arms around her and savoured the feel of her lips against his, her tongue locked with his.

  She ended the kiss and sat up to straddle him properly. Her moist pussy kissed the paunch of Smythe’s lower body. She reached behind him for his dick.

  Suddenly, familiar doubts welled up to the surface. Dark fears—of size, of performance—oozed out from the dark crevices of his mind where they’d been hiding and slithered down his body to choke the base of his penis.

  Xie-Mu must have seen the concern on his face.

  “You don’t need to worry about your size satisfying me,” she soothed. “The stereotypes are more than true in my case.”

  Indeed they were, Smythe thought. He was shocked—pleasantly so—at how tight she was. She moved down until his cock rested against the entrance to her vagina then slowly, exquisitely slowly, sat down. His manhood entered her luxurious warmth, centimetre by glorious centimetre. He felt resistance as her vagina stretched to accommodate him fully.

  As good as it felt, it brought home to Smythe what he’d been missing. All those years, sliding his tiny dick into the slack pussies of experienced women.

  Begone doubts, he thought. Why obsess over the past when the present felt this good.

  “Once you’ve finished that course of pills every woman will feel this good,” Xie-Mu said.

  She sighed as she sank all the way down his cock. That felt so good, Smythe thought and it was only the start of something better.

  Xie-Mu hooked her feet against his shins, bracing her body as she started to bounce on his cock. She wriggled her hips as she moved up and down, making sure every part of his cock was caressed by the inner walls of her silky-smooth pussy.

  This good? Smythe didn’t care how expensive that box of pills was. If only half of what Xie-Mu had said was true it was still worth the price.

  He threw back his head and closed his eyes as the lithe Oriental girl rode his body. She wasn’t shy in articulating her desire either. Her sighs increased in volume, becoming full-blown cries of passion. Caught up in the moment, Smythe started to moan his own pleasure.

  He felt a pleasurable stirring in his balls.

  No, not yet, not yet. He wanted to delay the moment of release to prolong the pleasure. Not yet.

  Xie-Mu was really into it. Her cheeks were flushed red and her almond eyes shut as she thrust up and down on him. As she moved on top of him, Smythe noticed an odd thing happening with her tattoos. Her breasts swayed, her back arched, her taut stomach contorted and the fantastic seascape drawn on her skin seemed to come alive. Serpents roared, pincers snapped shut, fish leapt and tentacles writhed. The artist who’d worked on her body was a genius to create such an optical illusion.

  Her cries grew louder and louder until she settled right in Smythe’s lap and gave a loud moan. Her pussy, already moist, suddenly became soaking wet.

  She’d come? Smythe thought, feeling a small thrill of pride. His cock was deluged with her juices. They spilled out of her vagina and dribbled down over his balls.

  Smythe scrunched his eyes shut. Oh fuck. Her pussy felt heavenly—tight, warm and now very slippery. Xie-Mu knew Smythe wasn’t done, so neither was she. She resumed riding his body, only this time her movements were slow and deliberate. She let her hips slide up and down Smythe’s cock with exquisite slowness. Tight, yet lubricated enough for Smythe to slide all the way inside her delicious little cunt. She controlled the movements of her ass, using each stroke to elevate him to a higher plateau of bliss.

  Finally, he could take it no more. He gave vent to a loud moan and surrendered to his own orgasm. Her vagina trembled around him as he spurted his seed inside her with great, throbbing pulses. Xie-Mu wriggled on top of him, trying to draw the moment out for as long as possible before, exhausted, she collapsed down on top of Smythe. They lay like that for a while, arms around each other as they waited for their breathing to slow and their bodies to cool down.

  “Is that a normal part of the delivery?” Smythe asked.

  “No, that’s for me,” Xie-Mu said. She kissed him on the cheek before bouncing off the bed.

  Smythe admired her naked body as she retrieved her silk robes. Her tattooist was a master artisan. As she moved her fantastic designs seemed to move with her. The black wings or fins seemed to glide across her skin with each nimble footfall.

  “It’s the best part of my work,” she said as she slid her black silk robes over her shoulders, once more hiding the exotic canvas of her body from the eyes of the world. “I find men I can comfortably have sex with.”

  Smythe paused as he took in the implications of what she’d said.

  “I’m not sure whether I should take that as a compliment or a slight,” he laughed.

  Xie-Mu stood by the open window, lost in thought as she stared out across the bustling city. Smythe padded up behind her, letting his hands roam over the sinuous curve of her hips.

  “The worst part is knowing the treatment I give them will prevent them from ever having sex with me again,” Xie-Mu said.

  Smythe leant over and nuzzled her neck. He was tempted right there and then to screw the treatment entirely if it meant he could fuck her every night.

  “It’s what must be done,” she said, shrugging him off.

  Smythe caught a strange tang in the air—salty like a breeze coming in off the ocean, fresh and invigorating.

  “Can you smell the sea?” he asked. The city was inland as far as he knew.

  “It’s possible sometimes,” Xie-Mu said, “if you’re high enough. There’s a breeze that comes in off the ocean that rises above the smog and noise of the city. I like it.”

  “Better than exhaust fumes,” Smythe said.

  Xie-Mu kissed him on the cheek. “I must go now,” she said.

  She walked to the door, on the way collecting the suitcase of cash Smythe had brought as payment. He admired the taut peach of her ass as the silken fabric of her gown rubbed against it.

  “One thing,” Xie-Mu said as she reached the door. “While you’re taking the pills you must not masturbate.”

  “What, you mean I can’t have a wank?” Smythe said. What an odd condition.

  “The medicine loosens the lining of the blood vessels in your penis,” Xie-Mu explained. “During this time your penis will be extremely sensitive. Any kind of rough treatment could cause permanent damage.”

  Permanent damage? Smythe didn’t like the sound of that.

  “You can still have regular intercourse.”

  Eh?

  “Sex is fine, but masturbation isn’t?” Smythe wasn’t entirely sure on the logic of that.

  Xie-Mu smiled. “Men are a little rougher with themselves when they attend to their private needs,” she explained before leaving.

  If you say so, Smythe thought. Oh well. Ms Palm and her five young daughters would have to go without for a while. He could handle that.

  He turned and stared greedily at the ornate little casket sitting in the centre of the open briefcase. It was filled with little round white spheres that glittered like precious pearls.

  Especially given the rewards awaiting him.

  * * * *

  “Oh my god!” Jo exclaimed as she pulled down Smythe’s boxer shorts.

  Smythe stood before her, feeling pretty damn pleased with himself at that moment. The course of pills might have been expensive—really damn expensive, actually—but right now, looking at Jo’s open-mouthed expression, Smythe felt they were worth every penny.

  “You’ve... uh... changed,” she said and then laughed.

  Smythe could scarcely believe the change himself. Xie-Mu had given him a plausible explanation—s
ort of—as to how the pills worked, but he’d still felt a twinge of scepticism. He certainly hadn’t expected anything as dramatic as this.

  Three inches. That’s how much the length of his erection had grown in the past week. Three whole inches.

  “The wonders of modern medicine,” Smythe said. Or rather, the wonders of secret ancient Eastern herbal remedies.

  Jo stroked a hand up his shaft and Smythe trembled with pleasure. “I can’t see any scars,” she said as she examined his cock intently.

  “That’s because there wasn’t any surgery,” Smythe explained. “All this was done with some special little pills.”

  “Pills?” Jo said. She stared at him, incredulous that such a dramatic change could have been achieved through pills alone.

  “Yes, pills,” Smythe replied. He felt as proud as a champion bodybuilder as he stood before her.

  Jo hit him on the side of the head with a pillow.

  “What was that for?” Smythe said.

  “Men,” Jo said with mock outrage. “You make all the cool stuff and keep it to yourselves. Viagra and now this. We’re still shoving plastic balloons in our tits. When do we get the magic pill?”

  They both laughed. That’s why Smythe enjoyed his sessions with Jo. She was such an easy girl to get along with.

  And as filthy as a hardened porn star.

  “Harder! C’mon, harder!” she growled back at him and pouted her bee-stung lips.

  Smythe had her bent over the bed and was driving back and forth into her pussy. His hands gripped the soft flesh of her ass as he pounded her. She felt really good. Tight.

  “More! Give me more of that big cock!” she snarled, her blue eyes gleaming.

  Smythe obliged, grunting and squeezing the soft flesh of her ass between his hands as he thrust deeper into her luscious cunt.