Showing posts with label locked in with a succubus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label locked in with a succubus. Show all posts

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Locked in with a Succubus: The Inside View

Okay, so it looks like I need to run through an explanation after all. :)

Whether people got it or not depended on whether they'd already read my earler story: Delivery Special Soap. That's a fail on my part as I always intended the recurring characters and cheeky little references to enhance the stories for the readers who were familiar with my other works, but not be essential to the understanding of the story for the first time reader.

Here's a little peek from the other side to clear up any confusion:

Demons (and possibly other mythological beings) exist in that world, but they're rare and largely unknown. George doesn't know they exist. Inari, the mysterious woman he does some odd jobs for, does and she has a problem.

Virgins are extremely tasty delicacies to a succubus, especially the nice ones and even more so the older ones. As Nicole points out, George is quite the hot commodity in the succubus world. Inari knows it's only a matter of time before one of the nastier demons (Like Orchrhys in Delivery Special Soap) catches his scent and makes a snack out of his soul.

George hints at Inari's earlier attempts in Part 6, although he doesn't recognise them for what they are.

The problem is he's now too old and a little too tasty. (Hinted at twice. At the very beginning Nicole isn't going to let him into her house. He also mentions about the masseuse, Arisa, making an excuse and leaving. They're worried they're going to eat the poor guy!)

The wine is important as most of you probably guessed.

Mysterious label. No recognisable branding. Yeah, that's not wine. It's how George is able to have a lot of sex with Nicole and not meet the usual fate of most of my protagonists when they have a lot of sex with a succubus. It keeps his energy levels high enough so he doesn't die. (Hinted at again. Nicole recognises what it is. As soon as George shows her the bottle she changes her mind and lets him in)

Nicole picks up on George's slightly submissive tendencies, but gets it wrong with the first room - a classic dominatrix dungeon - she picks.

The second room is right and Nicole reveals her succubus nature. Because of the wine she can also be a little more sexually aggressive than normal.

Except it goes wrong and she loses control. Her behaviour should (I hope!) seem a lot different in Part 9 compared to other chapters.

George passes out and then wakes back up. What happened in the meantime? Another oblique hint. George notices smudges on her cheeks. Succubi can cry and Nicole was extremely upset a few moments before. She thought she'd killed him.

Of course, I'm not going to tell you this. Why spoil the fun when there's another three chapters of will-she-won't-she-kill-him to play with! :)

It's all from George's PoV, so he doesn't realise. Nicole, ever the sublime consort, slips straight back into her role as the teasing demoness. At this point George is in no danger. Nicole has already taken his virginity and gorged on his energy. The final pieces to explaining her behaviour drop into place in Part 12 when she tells George she knows what his secret fantasies are.

The explanation for it all is in the epilogue when Nicole tells Inari her "stink is all over him".

Yeah, if you haven't read Delivery Special Soap, you've got no chance with that one. In the world Nicole inhabits, it makes sense for demons not to tangle with each other over a single human when there are so many others to prey upon. Nicole has fulfilled Inari's request. She's taken George's virginity (so he's no longer a beacon of tasty snackness to other sex demons) and claimed him as 'her kill'. Which was Inari's aim right from the start. Whether the other demons hold up to that, well that's another story...

That's a bit of a booboo on my part. Oblique references to link the story with Arisa from the earlier story are one thing. It's an Easter Egg for the people that spot the reference. Making it vital to understanding the denouement . . . that's the kind of clever-cleverness that falls straight into stupid.

Oh well. That's the good part about putting stories up for free. It's easier to make the right corrections before they find their way into anthologies. :)

I hope that clears things up anyway.

Tuesday, June 07, 2011

Locked in with a Succubus, part 12

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10. Part 11.

A day later than planned, but never mind.



“I lied,” she said.

George stared at her.

Nicole smiled. She traced a circle around his nipple with a coquettish nail. “I’m a demon, what did you expect?”

George deflated inside. She was never going to let him go.

“Aww, such a hurt look,” Nicole teased.

“It’s not fair,” he said.

Nicole laughed. “Oh come on. You’re thirty-four. You must know by now the world isn’t a fair place.”

She reached over and retrieved the bottle of wine from the shelf.

“It’s a pity,” she said. “If there were a few more like you, maybe it would be better.”

“Then I suppose you’re doing your job,” George said. “Servant of Satan and all that.”

He felt so stupid. He’d thrown everything into that last bout of sex. He felt so drained he didn’t even have the energy to lift his head from the mattress. He’d played right into her claws, again. She was a demon; of course she wasn’t going to keep her word. He was such an idiot.

Nicole looked at the wine bottle. Her eyes became a little distant. She smiled.

“Yes, I suppose I am,” she said.

She brought the bottle to George’s lips and he greedily gulped it down. It was so delicious. The wine settled in his stomach and emitted a warm glow. All of a sudden he didn’t feel quite so exhausted. What was in it—crack? His mouth even followed the bottle as she took it away. Don’t, she’d only make him beg for it next time.

If there was a next time.

Nicole shook the bottle with a frown on her face. There was barely a swallow left in the bottle.

“Oh well,” Nicole said. “All good things must come to an end.”

She poured the last dribbles between George’s parched lips and tossed the now empty bottle over the side of the bed.

“Mmm, I was saving this for last,” Nicole said.

She lay down on George and then rolled them both until she was lying on her back in the centre of the large, circular waterbed with him on top of her. The classic missionary position, although George didn’t feel like he had any control.

His erection didn’t get a chance to go down from his last bout of ejaculations either. The moist lips of Nicole’s vagina wrapped around the head and sucked his whole length down inside her. The soft walls of her sex pulsed and undulated around him. He was back to full hardness and trembling in a matter of moments.

Nicole’s legs wrapped around him. Her arms went around his neck. Her great black wings unfurled and then folded around his back like a latex cloak.

“This is nice,” Nicole said. “Relaxing.”

George felt weak, like a kitten, but pleasantly so. He slumped on top of Nicole, his chest resting on the soft pillows of her breasts. There was a pleasant tingling sensation wherever Nicole’s smooth skin came into contact with his. It had a strange draining effect that left him relaxed to the point of immobility. Every breath he took was filled with the sensual perfume of her body.

“You don’t have to do anything at all,” she sighed, her breath whispering through the hairs on the back of his neck.

The walls of her vagina bunched up around his shaft and then rolled down, giving him a pleasant little tug. Her soft lips brushed against his tender throat. Her thighs squeezed his sides. Her membranous wings stretched across his back, hugging him closer.

“You’re mine,” Nicole whispered in his ear. “There’s no escape. I’m going to drag you down into deep, delectable darkness.”

She’d wrapped him all up in her body. There was no way George could get free. He sighed as her pussy contracted around his cock and gave him a teasing little suck.

He wasn’t even sure he wanted to get free.

“How does it feel to have your favourite fantasy made flesh?”

Her vagina squeezed again. The moist walls, soft like sumptuous cushions, rubbed against his glans.

What fantasy?

“Haven’t you always wanted to be enthralled by a creature of the night?” Nicole whispered in his ear. “You like to watch the horror movies with the sexy vampiresses. They arouse you.”

George had told no one about those fantasies. Reeves as Harker in the castle of Dracula. “How’d—”

Nicole cut off his question with a luscious kiss.

“A guess,” she said. “But an easy one. A good succubus is adept at sensing the desires of her prey. I heard your heart quicken when you saw my fangs and wings, and you haven’t exactly put up much of a fight.”

George sagged. Was it true? He knew he found her incredibly sexy, but surely he didn’t want this—his death?

“Now it’s real,” Nicole said, her soft breath tickling against his ear. “Here you are, drawn into the embrace of a dark beauty. Mesmerised, seduced and helpless as she folds her wings around you and puts her fangs in your neck.”

Oh god, it was true. Her words sent a thrill of pleasure through him. His manhood swelled and twitched inside her snug sheath.

Nicole chuckled. Her hot lips brushed his throat.

“I can bite you,” she whispered, soft and barely audible. “I have fangs. Would you like me to sink them into your throat?”

George felt two sharp pinpricks. He panicked and started to squirm.

The pinpricks went away. Nicole laughed.

“The bite doesn’t interest you,” she said. “It’s the feeling of being seduced and overwhelmed by a dark temptress. That’s the turn-on.”

She hugged him tighter and writhed beneath him, rubbing her breasts against his chest.

“A good thing,” she said. “Biting’s messy. Blood goes everywhere. Not very sexy.”

Nicole crossed her ankles behind his buttocks and squeezed, pulling him down deeper into her velvet depths. The fleshy walls of her sex throbbed and pulsed against his twitching erection.

“A succubus drains her victim in a much more pleasurable manner.”

Her luscious vagina squeezed around his cock. She stimulated the head with rhythmic tugs of her flesh. George tensed up right away. Pleasure and anticipation thrummed along nerves as taut as piano wires.

“Can you hold on?” Nicole teased.

George groaned. He felt like he was vibrating like a struck tuning fork. Her fleshy tunnel squeezed and sucked on his cock, enveloping his member with hot, wet kisses. Her moist walls slid over his pulsing hard-on like the finest silk.

“I don’t think so,” she said.

George’s balls felt like they were boiling. He trembled as he tried to deny the instincts of his body.

“Oh yes, you’re close. My vagina’s going to slurp you all up.”

Gngh-no, George thought. Her pussy gripped the base of his cock and pulled him deeper into her. Fleshy walls sucked on him like a mouth.

It was her mouth.


Nicole hugged him closer, enfolding him in the heat and scent of her body. Her pussy sucked on him with rhythmic pulses. Too much. He was welling up.

“Mmm, time to drink.”

A gasp of air escaped George’s mouth. The molten flesh of her pussy stimulated him beyond the limits of his resistance. He came.

It was like no ejaculation he’d experienced before. It was like a river of mud—slow and constant—running from his cock with slow, deep throbs. Each throb was a spike of purest ecstasy, each almost a separate orgasm in themselves, all running together as one.

“Ooh,” Nicole sighed. She ground her hips against him, stimulating the flow to continue.

Her vagina pulsed around him with slow, steady contractions, pumping the semen from his body. Pumping his fluids—his life—while he was kept helpless and overwhelmed with sensations of purest bliss.

“It won’t hurt,” Nicole said, her voice soft. “You’ll fall right asleep.”

George slumped on top of her. His energy was ebbing away. She pumped it from his body and into the ravenous pit of her sex along with his seed.

“You’re like most shy guys. You want the wanton temptress to give you the sexual release you’re too nervous to ask for, but you’re so insecure, the fantasy only works if you make her the femme fatale—interested only in your blood.”

Nicole let his head fall over her shoulder, into the black silk sheets of the bed. She placed a hand on the back of his head, and let her smooth cheek brush against his.

“So silly. You’re far more of a man than the shallow peacocks you envy.”

Nicole sighed. Hot sticky fluids bubbled up around his spurting penis.

“And far far tastier,” Nicole purred. “The nice gentlemen always taste the best.”

Her vagina continued to pulse around him with long, slow throbs—like a great velvet heart. He felt the beats flow through him, a pleasure which washed away all other sensation. His ejaculations were long slow waves rolling through his body. He was pouring, emptying, into her and—god help him—he couldn’t bear for it to end. His eyelids drooped shut. He felt tired now—drained and sleepy. There was no fear or panic. His only thoughts were a constant series of sighs and moans—the soundtrack to a hundred porn films all overlaid on top of each other.

“This brings back memories . . .” Nicole said, “. . . of times past, when the world was larger and existence was simpler. A chapter long closed. As it should be.”

George felt like he was sinking. Like the bed was growing softer and softer and, wrapped in Nicole’s embrace, he was sinking into its depths. Pleasure enveloped and surrounded him in a second skin. It saturated all his tissues.

“Mmm, I do so enjoy playing the wicked sensual predator.”

Nicole hugged him tight and dragged him down into deep, delectable darkness. George closed his eyes and the darkness welcomed him into its embrace.


Oh Nicole. To be concluded . . .

Sunday, May 29, 2011

Locked in with a Succubus, part 11

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10.


Nicole frowned. “It’s not much of a chance. You are quite inexperienced in the arts of lovemaking . . .”

“I’ll take it,” George said.

Nicole’s black eyes glimmered. Her smile became crafty.

“Make me come,” she said.

George paused. He didn’t know what to say.

“When it comes to a succubus and a human male, the succubus has total control in all matters concerning sex,” Nicole said. “As you’d expect of a being who is an absolute personification of carnal desires.”

She sat cross-legged next to George. Her tail curled round into her lap. She stared down at the flicking, arrow-pointed tip.

“Unfortunately, the gulf in experience makes it very hard for a succubus to achieve full satisfaction,” she said.

Her thumb and forefinger came together in a circle around her tail. She moved her hand up and down in an imitation of masturbation.

“What do I need to do?” George asked.

He felt a lot of trepidation. He had no real experience and he was dealing with an entity that lived off sex. Still, a slim chance was better than no chance at all.

Nicole tapped one clawed finger against her cheek. Her other hand went down between her legs and she ran a black fingernail between the moist folds of her sex.

“Mmm, it’s no good with me on top,” she mused. “It’s against your nature, but you’ll need to take the initiative. Be forceful. And work extremely hard. Mmm . . . yes . . . this might give you the best chance.”

She hopped up on all fours and faced away from him.

“Come over here,” she ordered.

Her tone was sweet but the words slipped right through his ears, hooked talons in his brain and tugged. George was on his knees and moving towards her before he even realised.

“Wha-how?” George said in surprise.

“Darling, you should never release your seed in a succubus’s cunt. It gives her a degree of control over you.”

She looked back at George and gave him a wicked smile. She waggled the lovely peach of her ass.

“I probably should have mentioned that earlier,” she said.

Yeah, thanks for the warning, George thought sourly.

“Now come and fuck me.” That voice again, jerking his body around on sugar-sweet puppet strings.

Before he was even aware, George was kneeling behind the lush swell of her behind with a hand stroking up and down his erection. Her tail flicked and twitched, exposing the little bud of her anus. George paused. Her tail lifted. The orifice relaxed and opened. The dilations and contractions, the moist lining behind, the hint of deep tight depths, all drew his gaze. A target.

His hand stroked up and down his bulging erection. All he needed to do was push forward.

George did, but at the last moment his hand steered his cock downwards, plunging it into the silken sheath of her vagina instead.

She hadn’t given him permission for the . . . other place.

Nicole chuckled.

“Always the gentleman,” she said.

She rocked back into him. Her whip-like tail slithered over his hips and curled round behind him.

“You could have, you know,” she said. “I wouldn’t have minded.”

The tip of her tail pressed up against the sphincter of his anus. Not hard enough to enter, but hard enough to imply it could.

“Of course, I’d have then felt obligated to do the same back to you,” Nicole said with a sultry chuckle. “Fair is fair.”

George shivered and instinctively jerked forwards. Forward meant plunging deeper into Nicole’s velvet depths, which he suspected was what she’d intended. She gave a contented moan and stretched her back like a cat. The soft curves of her buttocks pressed into his crotch.

“It’s not as bad as you think.” Her tail tickled around the rim of his anus. “It’s quite pleasant.” The tail gave his asshole a delicate little prod. “But I fear you’d empty out very quickly if my little tail started tickling away on your prostate.” The tail moved away and the tip tickled against the underside of his testicles. “Far too quickly to get me anywhere near orgasm.”

George allowed himself a little sigh of relief as her tail slithered off down his inner thigh.

He placed both hands on the soft flesh of her ass and held on as he began to thrust back and forth into her. His cock slipped in and out of her moist sheath.

“Ooh yes, that’s a nice rhythm,” Nicole said. “You can go harder.”

George did, although he wasn’t sure it was by choice. His hips had slipped the leash of his mind and were rocking back and forth of their own accord. In. Out. George plunged into her silken sex again and again.

“You can drop that tentativeness,” Nicole said. “Women like sex too. Harder.”

She braced her legs and rocked back against him, meeting his thrusts with perfect timing. The bed sloshed and swayed beneath them. George was worried he’d lose his balance and slip out of her, but he didn’t.

“I’m not a porcelain doll,” Nicole said. “You’re not going to break me. Harder!”

I’m trying, George thought.

He grasped her hips—her flesh felt so good beneath his fingers; warm, soft, like a pillow he never wanted to let go of—and pounded her harder, harder, harder. She didn’t mind. She wanted more, more, more.

In. Out. His swollen erection sliding between her fleshy drapes. Feeling the friction as her moist vaginal walls rubbed against him.

Make her come.

In. Out.

Sheesh, this was knackering.

Sweat-soaked hair drifted down across George’s vision.

Focus! In. Out. Make her come.

Nicole’s pussy convulsed; clenched and dilated around him. George’s cock plunged right into a thick vaginal secretion that felt as soft and as rich as squirted cream. His mouth fell open as his dick was engulfed in pleasant tingles.

George paused. Nicole murmured in pleasure and writhed against him. The walls of her vagina crawled up and down George’s penis in soft little undulations. His hands slipped from the smooth skin of her hips. Her vagina swelled, pulled away and thick tingling juices were pumped over his cock. George stopped.

That felt so—

No. He mustn’t stop. He was hers for sure if he stopped.

George grabbed her hips and redoubled his efforts. Waves of force rippled over the taut skin of her buttocks as his hips slapped against her. Her round breasts jiggled and swayed.

In. Out. Fucking as if his life—and soul—depended on it, which they did.

Nicole quivered and shivered. The elastic walls of her vagina clenched and unclenched around his dick. Each squeeze felt like a sunburst of pleasure in his loins.

He was going to—

No! Focus on something else.

His breath rasped in his lungs. It reminded him of cross-country running back at school.

He fucking hated cross-country running back at school.

No good. Her ever so pliant pussy squeezed and rubbed against him. Rich warm cream enveloped his member. Nicole was breathing heavier now—deep husky breaths.

No good. Her vagina clenched again and George felt the wet suction pull on him as he fell back for another thrust.

No—uh—good.

George groaned. He was coming. He felt it welling up inside him—from his balls, from his hips, from his toes.

Nicole chuckled in triumph. The motions of her vagina changed, became like a mouth sucking on a lollipop.

Ahh.

No. Even though he was coming, he’d still remain hard for a short while.

He rammed his spurting cock into her as deep as it would go. Nicole gave a surprised yelp. The yelp changed to louder and louder moans as he thrust back and forth into her. George squeezed every last drop from his protesting muscles as he jackhammered against her. It was the last sprint to the line as his dick sprayed his seed inside her.

Nicole shivered. The trembles travelled through her body, spreading to her partially folded wings. She paused, gave a loud sigh. Her pussy exploded around George, flooding his lap with warm, sticky juices.

That had to be it. Completely shattered, George collapsed back onto the comfortable, yielding surface of the waterbed. He lay there, breathing heavily.

Was it enough? It had to be enough.

Nicole shuffled across on her knees and straddled his supine form.

“That was . . . very good,” she said. Her full breasts moved up and down as she got her breath back. Her pale cheeks were flushed deep red. Her crotch was sticky with their shared juices.

She fell forward on top of him and rubbed her body against him, sighing in contentment.

“So, can I go?” George asked.

It had to have been enough.

“No,” Nicole said.

“But I thought—”

Nicole stifled his protests with her soft lips and warm breath. She broke off the kiss and looked down at George. Her black eyes glittered like stones.

“I lied,” she said.


To be continued . . .

Friday, May 27, 2011

Locked in with a Succubus, part 10

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9.

A little later than planned. Took three rewrites before I was happy with the chapter.



“Did you think I was done with you?” she said.

George had thought she was done with him, to the point of doing him in. His relief at finding himself alive and still breathing was tempered by his fear of the demon sitting astride him. She still had his penis.

“And don’t think the usual male weakness will save you,” Nicole said.

Her vagina pulsed. A warm, thick fluid poured into her fleshy cavity and submerged George’s trapped cock. Nicole closed her eyes and murmured. Her vaginal walls slowly undulated, stirring the fluid around his erection and massaging it into his flesh.

George gasped. His hips twitched. His cock surged back to full hardness and strained, eager to burrow deeper inside her. The sudden rush of blood made him feel woozy.

“I can keep you hard for weeks,” Nicole purred.

She wriggled her hips, rubbing more of her juices into George’s throbbing penis. He couldn’t move. The slightest motion and his over-aroused cock would rub up against her vaginal walls, incapacitating him with a burst of intense pleasure. She had him completely helpless and she knew it.

He noticed something odd with the tattoos on Nicole’s side, just below the curve of her right breast. The black lines didn’t seem as clearly delineated as before. It was like the black ink was running. Or—and this must be a trick of the subdued light—Nicole was bleeding as the sharp lines of her tattoos dug into her flesh like razor wire.

“What happened . . . earlier?” George asked. He feared the answer.

“You passed out,” Nicole said. “Anyone would think you’d never had sex before.”

Her lips turned up in a mischievous smile.

“Sorry,” she said. “Couldn’t resist.”

She tweaked his nipples.

“No one will be able to tease you about your virginity in the future,” she said. “It’s gone. The wicked succubus sucked it right out of you.”

“Was that all you took?” George asked. “It felt like . . .”

His recollections were hazy. He remembered both terror and incredible pleasure, a feeling of coming apart and being drawn up into Nicole’s body as she lay on top of him.

“. . . you were sucking out my soul.”

It was strange to use the word. George didn’t really believe in souls and that kind of thing—

He hadn’t believed in the existence of devils either . . .

—but it seemed like the only explanation which made sense.

Nicole laughed. “Don’t be silly. You wouldn’t be talking to me now. Taking out a person’s soul is like removing the batteries from a toy soldier. They cease to function.”

A chill ran up George’s spine. She was speaking from experience.

Nicole leant over him until her abyssal eyes were staring right into his.

“You had sex with a succubus, a being with complete mastery of the carnal arts. For your first time. It was too intense. You passed out.”

It sounded like it made sense, George thought. But what about—

No, best not to go there. Let those memories stay buried in the dark, forgotten corners of his mind. A man could go mad if he thought about it too much. He could throw his life away in a crazy, self-destructive quest to recapture those sensations.

There were smudges on Nicole’s cheeks—black like oil but very faint, as if she’d already wiped most of it away, leaving behind only these barely perceptible traces.

Her claws tickled the skin around his navel.

“Mmm, what to do now,” Nicole mused.

“You could let me go,” George suggested, more in hope than actual expectation.

Nicole sat up, tilted her head to the side, smiled.

“Your libido really is low, isn’t it,” she said. “I see now why it took so long. Most men are usually begging me for more sex by now . . . even though they know they shouldn’t,” she added, a wicked gleam in her eyes.

“I can’t.” She shrugged.

She placed her hands flat on George’s chest.

“It’s a little embarrassing actually,” she said.

She pushed down on George’s chest and used the leverage to lift her hips. George felt a strong tugging sensation on his cock. Her vagina had clenched tightly shut around the root. Where Nicole went, George went too . . . if he wanted to remain a man.

“I really can’t,” Nicole said.

“Oh,” George said.

“My vagina appears to have developed quite an attachment to your penis,” Nicole said. “It’ll relax in a while. Until then it does rather restrict what I can do to you. Hmm, let’s see . . .”

She wriggled and attempted to swivel on George’s cock. At first he was terrified she’d twist his manhood right off, but the swollen entrance to her vagina seemed to slide around his root easily enough. It was only when she attempted to lift her body off him that her orifice tightened up around the base of his cock and refused to release him.

“This is so embarrassing,” Nicole said.

She manoeuvred her body through a full one hundred and eighty degrees. Then she leaned backwards—George’s penis still inside her—until she was lying on top of him with her folded up wings flat against his chest.

“Better,” Nicole said. She smiled up at George’s reflection in the mirror. “I think we’ll lie like this for a while. Consider it a respite.”

She picked George’s hands up off the mattress and placed them on top of her full breasts.

“Something for you to play with while we wait.” She smiled up at the mirror.

She gave George’s hands a squeeze, which in turn caused him to grope the ripe round curves of her breasts. The flesh was soft, warm and eminently squeezable. George wasn’t sure which was hungrier for the touch—his hands or her breasts.

Nicole took her hands away. George’s stayed where they were. He didn’t have much say in the matter. Nicole’s breasts might as well have been coated in superglue for all the chance he had of removing his hands. His fingers clutched and squeezed her boobs, seduced and enslaved by their weight and smooth texture. Normally, George would have been too embarrassed to paw and grope at a woman’s bits like this, but he felt an illicit charge of pleasure as his fingers roamed over her lush curves. And shame. To take pleasure in groping her like a lecherous pervert.

“Naughty naughty fingers,” Nicole purred.

She closed her eyes and stretched on top of him like a cat. He knew she was enjoying the shame she caused him.

George’s fingers brushed up against a chain.

The key!

He remembered. She’d put it on a chain and hung it around her neck. Now if he could just hook a finger around the chain and slip—

Nicole opened an eye. The muscular walls of her vagina clenched around his cock hard enough to make his eyes water.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked sweetly.

“N-n-nothing,” George said.

Please don’t crush my cock, he thought. How could she be so powerful down there?

One hand closed over George’s. The other lifted up the key. It glinted as it swung on the end of the chain.

“Aww, you were after this,” Nicole said. “How sweet.”

Her vagina relaxed around his cock. George went from feeling as though his manhood had been trapped in a vice to feeling as though it was sunk in luxuriously soft putty. A gasp slipped from his open mouth. Her sex burbled and more warm fluids swirled around his cock. Her walls stroked against him in pleasant undulations. It didn’t matter that their sexual organs were sealed together. She didn’t need to move; the internal motions of her vagina were friction enough. The flesh stroked and stroked up his shaft and teased the end with moist kisses. George felt like he was being stroked up higher and higher, as if his hips were rising up off the mattress and he was floating up to heaven.

His cock throbbed and erupted within her. He pumped another great load of semen into her undulating warmth. The soft walls kept stroking and stroking, coaxing more and more juice from his straining manhood until finally he crashed back down on the soft bed. His head and arms lay limp on the mattress. Droplets of perspiration beaded his brow.

Nicole was as perfectly composed as ever.

“Are you really sure you want this key?” she asked.

The moist interior of her vagina squeezed and rubbed against the fleshy head of his spent cock. Sparks of pleasure cascaded through his trembling nerves.

George paused to catch his breath. “Yes,” he wheezed out.

Nicole sat up.

“How disappointing,” she said. “We’ve barely started and already you want to leave. My seductive powers really must be waning.”

She lifted her body off him. George’s erection was finally out from the hot, smothering confines of her vagina. He was horrified by how much he wanted to put it back there.

Nicole reached over to fetch the bottle of wine from the shelf. There was no outpouring of liquid from her sex. While within her, George’s cock had been flooded with her juices. He’d added great spurts of his own semen to the mix. Yet not a dribble escaped Nicole’s vagina. She’d absorbed it all.

She put the bottle to George’s lips and poured in some of the contents. Relishing the sweet taste, George greedily gulped it down.

“If I stay here I’ll die,” he said as she returned the bottle to the shelf.

Nicole sat cross-legged on the bed next to him. He shivered in pleasure as she cupped his balls in a warm palm. Her claw hooked under and tickled around his anus.

“I suppose I shouldn’t begrudge you your survival instincts,” Nicole said.

She lightly squeezed his balls and George gasped, his spine contorting backwards. It felt like a flash, like a warm spark of electricity. He felt something reach up into his abdomen, grab pieces of him and drag them down into his balls. In a matter of moments they swelled back up and felt as plump and as fully loaded as if he’d gone without masturbation for a month.

Nicole looked at the key in her left hand. She ran the fingers of her other hand up and down George’s twitching erection. She tapped a claw thoughtfully against the swollen head.

“You seem like a nice gentleman,” she said. “And I’m not the completely heartless demon I appear to be. Maybe I should give you a chance to escape.”

George’s ears pricked up.

Nicole frowned. “It’s not much of a chance. You are quite inexperienced in the arts of lovemaking after all.”

“I’ll take it,” George said.


To be continued . . .

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Part 10 is delayed by vacation :(

I'm currently on vacation in a lovely East European city. I was hoping to write up part 10 and get it posted while I was out here, but beer, friends and other things have intervened. (A final proof check on the print version of "A Succubus for Halloween" mainly).

Diabolic tease that she is, I'm sure Nicole would approve of leaving readers stuck on tenterhooks. Barring mishaps, Part 10 will go up on Wednesday with Part 11 (Assuming poor George hasn't already expired in ecstatic bliss) following in the usual Sunday/Monday slot.

So much for thinking I'd gotten ahead on the serial . . .

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Erotica: When Your Chapter Has No Sex

I’ve started posting the “Locked in with a Succubus” chapters up on Literotica. It’s the first time I’ve gone outside of the Erotic Horror category. I thought I’d try and see if I could pick up some new readers by posting in the NonNuman category instead (and then promptly lose them as the story heads off into too-dark territory). The first chapter (intro + part 2) went live yesterday.

It has the worst score of any of my Literotica stories.

(lower even than "The Biggest Tits in the World", where I screwed up and tossed out a mental image most readers spotted right off was simply impossible—although I do have a fix now)

That’s something I was expecting and knew I’d have to take on the chin. People like their erotica to have, you know, naughty bits.

It’s always a dilemma. I like my sex scenes to be surrounded by a strong story and the problem with Plot with Porn as opposed to Plot? What Plot? is sometimes the plot heads off into areas with no sex. So what do you do? Crowbar in the naughty anyway, or cross your fingers and hope the story is compelling enough to keep the readers interested until the next pair of jiggling boobs appears on the horizon?

I’m a bit weird, so the story is always sacrosanct to me. No sex unless it fits naturally into the plot.

Fortunately for me, when you write about succubi, sex always naturally fits into the plot!

I was going to combine "Locked in with a Succubus" into one single piece, but I think it might diminish the impact of all those teasing little chapter endings. It’s given me some ideas on how to put my 4th collection of short stories together. I’ll see what happens on Literotica over the next couple of weeks. If everyone gets bored waiting for the hot stuff to happen and buggers off, then I’ll know it was a failed experiment.

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Locked in with a Succubus, part 9

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8


“Oh crap,” she said.

Puzzled, George looked up.

Nicole sat astride him, motionless aside from the up and down movements of the waterbed beneath them. Her sex had contracted snugly all around his cock, holding him firmly inside her. It was very tight, but not uncomfortably so. In fact, it felt very pleasant. Her vagina was warm, almost hot, and his dick felt like it was stewing in pleasure.

What was happening?

Nicole’s eyes were shut and her face was expressionless, perfect like a porcelain doll. Her vagina slowly started to peel back from the root of George’s cock.

Her sex convulsed.

George’s whole body tensed up. An involuntary gasp burst from his mouth.

The soft walls of her pussy squished around his cock like warm putty and then squeezed. He felt powerful suction roll all the way up his shaft.

And beyond.

He felt it in his trunk, in the blood vessels running throughout his body. The pad of soft fleshy tissue enveloping the head of his penis expanded like bellows and he felt the pull right through his balls and down to his curling toes.

Aaaah. Another involuntary gasp shot from his lips.

Nicole’s head dropped forwards. Her lovely supple lips pouted in a cute little ‘o’ as a short sigh of pleasure slipped from her mouth. Her pale cheeks blushed deep red.

Her vagina pulsed again and a whiplash of breath-taking pleasure thrummed through George. His spine arched backwards, pressing his shoulders back against the mattress.

Nicole lifted her head up and gave a strange alien cry, like some kind of exotic bird or beast. She looked down at George and he was unnerved by what he saw. It was Nicole’s beautiful face, but it looked like a host of emotions were churning away beneath the surface. Something was coming through, something demonic and full of lascivious hunger.

George knew then he was in trouble.

“Mmm,” Nicole murmured.

She relaxed and sank down on George, letting his trapped erection be drawn up deeper into the smothering flesh of her vagina. The muscular walls undulated and sucked, sending another blast of ecstasy rushing through George’s body.

He didn’t know if this had been Nicole’s intention from the start or whether something had gone wrong, but instinctively he knew he was in mortal danger. He tried to lift his shoulders up from the swaying bed.

Nicole looked at him with eyes as cold as distant galaxies. She sang words in an alien tongue. They sounded like the sweetest, purest notes, but with dissonant harmonies like metal coming together in a car crash. She made strange motions with her hands, as if she was dragging her claws through soil or clay even though there was nothing before her but empty air.

Glistening threads, like angel hair or the finest spider silk, drifted down onto George’s chest and shoulders. Where they touched him, they sapped his strength and left behind a state of pleasant enervation. His shoulders fell back on the bed and stayed there.

“You think you can escape,” Nicole mocked. “You’re inside me.”

Her sex pulsed again and George trembled. The muscular walls bunched up around his shaft and rolled to the head in a kind of lascivious peristalsis.

Nicole whispered more words so alien they slipped past his ears like shimmering silver fish. George felt the strange constriction around the base of his cock relax. A few moments ago he would have given anything for it to be gone. Now, he would have given twice as much to put it back.

He was naked, completely exposed. The liquid interior of Nicole’s vagina slithered and tugged at him. She had full control. George felt she could make him come at any time, but instead her motions were slow and practised. She teased him with silken tugs that left him always just short of a threshold that kept rising a little each time. George squirmed and writhed beneath her like a fish caught on a line. The pleasure kept building and building until the denial of release became a kind of torture in itself.

Nicole shifted position on top of him. She sat up straighter and tilted her head up to the ceiling. She held out her hands with the palms facing upwards. Her wings extended behind her. If they’d been feathered rather than membranous like a bat’s she might have looked like an angel in prayer. She even whispered words that sounded like prayer. George thought he saw a nimbus of purple flickering light around her form, but that could have been his imagination.

It was hard to think of anything. Pure sensation overwhelmed him. Nicole might have looked still and composed—with her only motions short, controlled thrusts of her hips—but the interior of her vagina was alive. George heard liquid sounds as the thick, soft walls of her sex crawled over his erection. Her lust had engulfed him whole. It felt like an alien heart had invaded his system and his blood was now dancing to the beat of the intruder organ.

“Now,” Nicole commanded in a soft voice.

The soft meat of her vagina wrapped tightly around his penis and pulsed.

George gasped through gritted teeth. His hips bucked upwards.

Fuck.

His cock spewed an enormous load of semen into the succubus’s pussy. The fleshy pad at the end of her vagina absorbed it all and then sucked on the head of his cock for more.

Oh god.

He obliged. He had no choice. His cock throbbed again and again, each time depositing another hot, sticky load into the succubus’s smothering grip. On and on—

How much—

—more and more—

—could she take?

—as George writhed and thrashed in the throes of pure animal orgiastic release.

The ejaculation kept going, way past the point it should have ended as George pumped jets, streams, rivers of cum into her greedy sex. She absorbed it all and exhorted him for more, more, more!

He couldn’t. His body . . . there wasn’t . . .

Nicole leant over him. She caressed the side of his face with clawed fingers. Her face was feral and strangely all the more beautiful for it, like seeing the model in the flesh rather than her sculpture. Fires raged in the depths of her abyssal black eyes and yet George saw something which glistened in the corner of one of them—a tear maybe, but blacker than the deepest sin.

His body convulsed. He was still coming. What, he had no idea; his balls must have emptied already. Her sex continued to throb around his cock like the beats of a great fleshy heart, pumping the goodness and vitality from his body.

George’s movements quietened down. A cold numbness was spreading throughout his abdomen.

And still his body sang with pleasure, as if he wanted this continue forever and ever and damn the consequences. Forget the future, enjoy the now!

Nicole lay on top of him. Her full breasts rested on his chest. George’s eyes, holdouts from the revolution she’d instilled in his flesh, pleaded with her to stop. Nicole crushed her soft lips against his and stole the breath from his lungs.

Her skin felt so hot against his. A raging furnace.

George was coming apart inside. His pieces were dismantling, becoming firewood to fuel her flames.

The tide of pleasure rose up and claimed the last of George’s thoughts.

It was wonderful, the most natural thing in the world. He felt only the contentment of absolute release as the deep deep darkness rose up to envelop him.

* * * *

George jerked awake with a gasp.

What? Where?

The bed. He lay in a shallow, comfortable depression in the centre of Nicole’s waterbed. And Nicole . . .

The demon was still on top of him. She looked down at him. The stark, perfect beauty of her features contrasted with her horns and empty black eyes. She placed the neck of a bottle against George’s lips.

“Drink,” she ordered.

She upended the bottle and a trickle of sweet liquid passed between George’s lips. He recognised the taste as that moreish wine he’d drunk earlier, only now it seemed even more delicious. He gulped it down like a parched man finding water in a desert.

Nicole took the bottle away, much to George’s disappointment. He lifted his head up and saw Nicole was still sitting on his crotch. The lips of her labia were splayed and pressed against his body. He couldn’t see his penis. It was still inside her. Inside the succubus.

“Did you think I was done with you?” she said.


To be continued . . .

Sunday, May 08, 2011

Locked in with a Succubus, part 8

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7.

Now it really heats up. It goes without saying, but if you're not at least eighteen years old, you shouldn't be here. So go now. Don't read another word. I don't want to be responsible for your eyes catching fire and melting in your head.


“My pussy is hungry,” Nicole said, letting her soft hand caress up the underside of George’s cock. “I think it’s time to let her feed.”

George would have been more concerned by her words had his brain not been suspended in a thick fog of pleasure. Nicole looked at his empty, blissed-out state and tutted.

“First we should clear your head a little.”

She rested a palm on George’s forehead. He felt a sudden hot flash and the clouds obscuring his mind were blown aside.

“Wha-ha?” George said. He felt like he’d just woken up from a pleasant dream.

“Too much pheromone,” Nicole said.

She lay next to George and lazily pumped a hand up and down his twitching cock.

“For some of my clients it’s a kindness to have them spend their last moments submerged in a fog of purest bliss,” Nicole said. “I didn’t think that was fair on you. A man should fully experience the moment he loses his virginity.”

“Thanks. How thoughtful,” George said sourly.

Nicole slid on top of him and straddled his midriff. She pinned his arms to the gently rocking bed. She looked down at him and smiled.

“What’s the matter,” she said. “You did say you weren’t against the idea of casual sex, providing the other participant was willing.”

Her tail coiled around his cock and started to pump up and down, keeping him at full hardness.

“And I’m extremely willing,” Nicole beamed.

No, George wasn’t against the idea of casual sex. But this, spread-eagled and straddled by a demon from the pits of hell, wasn’t exactly how he’d pictured losing his virginity.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Nicole said. “I know you’re secretly enjoying this.”

She lay down on him. Her soft breasts rested on his chest. Her arms went around him in an embrace. Her pleasant perfume filled his nostrils.

“I’ll let you into a little secret,” she whispered in his ear.

Her tail continued to masturbate George’s cock. He felt his body respond as his hips started to move up and down in time with her moments.

“I don’t feel pleasure,” she said. “Not in the conventional sense. I only feel the pleasure I give to my sexual partners.”

She leant closer. Her soft lips brushed against the lobes of George’s ear. Her felt her warm breath tickle his skin.

“And I’m very adept at giving them pleasure,” she whispered.

Her tail squeezed his cock. The flat arrow-point tip wrapped over George’s glans like a tight hood. George gasped as it squeezed him. His body shuddered uncontrollably, sending waves flowing outwards across the bed, as the coils of her tail bunched up and stroked up and down his shaft. As much as his throbbing balls wanted to disgorge their contents, the seal around the base of his cock held.

Nicole sat up and laughed.

“Mmm, nice,” she said.

She released the head of his cock. George gasped as he felt the tip of her tail hook and tease the opening to his urethra as it slid off him. Shivers of pleasure ran through his body.

“I’m just a plaything for your pleasures,” he accused.

Nicole sat up. She cocked her head to the side. Her tail continued to give stimulation to his cock.

“Yes, I suppose you are,” she said. The corner of her mouth turned up in a wicked smile. “You’re my little toy and I’m going to play with you all night.”

She reached behind her to fondle his balls.

“How is this different to rape?” George asked.

Nicole put a hand to her mouth and laughed even louder than before. She pinned George’s arms back to the bed and leant down until her nose was brushing his and her empty black eyes were staring right into him.

“Silly boy,” she said. “A succubus never rapes her victims. Rape is sex without consent and a succubus’s victim always gives consent…in the end. They even expire with a smile on their face.”

That wasn’t much comfort to George.

“Don’t worry,” Nicole said. “I’ll push the corners of your mouth down so you look all serious for the undertakers.”

George’s eyes widened.

Nicole ducked down closer. “That was a joke,” she whispered in his ear.

George’s brow furrowed. What did she mean?

Nicole sat back up. She lifted her body up and moved backwards until she was directly above George’s crotch and his bobbing, swollen erection.

“Enough foreplay,” Nicole said. “It’s time my pussy was fed.”

She lowered her body and used her tail to steer George’s erection to the naked cleft of her sex. A mixture of excitement and trepidation flooded through him and he tensed as he felt her weight press lightly against the swollen head of his cock. Her labia, those thick fleshy lips, parted around his swollen glans and he felt the wet folds of her inner sex against the head of his cock.

“It’s still rape,” George said.

His hips twitched. Another orgasm was sent back by the seal Nicole had placed around the root of his cock.

Nicole laughed. “I think your body would beg to differ,” she said.

George’s hips had seceded from the rest of his body. They jerked and flexed of their own accord. Part of him had been waiting—longing—for this moment for a very long time. The little matter of the girl on top of him being a demon wasn’t going to dissuade his body from pushing his manhood up into her juicy, taunting snatch.

Nicole laughed, low and sultry. She had all the control. She rode his clumsy upward thrusts with languid ease. She kept the head of his cock pressed against her moist folds, but didn’t permit him to go any deeper. She wiggled on top of him, teasing him as she ran his swollen glans along the dripping groove of her sex. The tip of her tail curved between his legs and tickled the underside of his scrotum.

“So eager,” she chided. “You should draw out the moment for your first time. Savour it.”

George was more concerned it might also be his last time. His body, of course, didn’t care.

She stopped pinning his arms to the bed and leant backwards, bracing her hands on his thighs. She pressed her hips downwards. George watched her plump labia swell out and engulf the head of his cock. He was inside her, just the tip, but inside her nonetheless. He let out a soft groan as he felt the muscular walls of her vagina contract around the tip of his cock.

Nicole closed her eyes. Her pale white cheeks were tinged with red.

“Mmm,” she purred. “Just a taste to start with. A tiny little suck.”

The lips of her vulva started to move against him. They were sucking on the tip of his cock. Her sex was sucking on the tip of his cock. Like a mouth. George’s head fell back and another involuntary groan of pleasure escaped him.

He felt her juices. Warm and wet, they bathed the helmet of his cock and dribbled down his shaft. Just as with his tongue and lips from when she’d sat on his face, her juices magnified the sensitivity of his skin. His glans felt swollen, enormous; increasing in size until it encompassed his whole world. The warm folds of her sex swept across that world, sucking him and coating his skin in more of her body’s sinful secretions.

“Still feel like rape?” Nicole asked. “You can say no.”

George lay back and stared up into the mirror on the ceiling. Nicole was astride him, in total control. Her black wings were tightly folded up against her back. It felt like a mouth was down there, sucking on the tip of his cock. Such control.

He said nothing.

Nicole looked up and met his gaze in the mirror. Her black eyes gleamed. She smiled.

“Thought not,” she said.

She started to sink down on him, slowly taking him inside her, millimetre by exquisite millimetre. The inside of her vagina was silk. Silk impregnated with perfumed oil. It slid smoothly over his head and hugged the length of his shaft. Nicole sank all the way down on him until she was kissing the base of his cock.

Nicole’s eyes gleamed with triumph as she stared down at him. The succubus had him. He was in her. He was hers.

“Would you have stopped,” George asked, “if I’d said no?”

Nicole cocked her head to one side, thoughtful as she considered his question.

“No,” she answered.

Her vagina convulsed. The walls undulated up and down George’s erection. Inside her, his cock was deluged in thick, warm fluids that sank into his skin and sent his nerve endings wild with pleasure.

George’s head crashed back down on the mattress and he thrashed it from side to side as ecstasy washed through him in a wave.

“But I might have felt a little guilty about it,” Nicole said.

Calm and perfectly poised, she started to move her hips up and down. Her full breasts bobbed with her movements, but the rest of her body was still and composed. The bed rocked and swayed beneath them and Nicole incorporated the undulations into her movements, timing each downward thrust to match the rising crest of each wave.

“Poor little virgin,” she teased. Her pale face was beautiful, radiant, terrible. “Defiled by the evil succubus. You’re my little toy now. Drown in my lusts.”

George was sinking. He still lay on top of the pitching surface of the waterbed, but he was drowning nonetheless. All his thoughts were being crowded out. The only thing left was the sinuous motion of her hips as she smoothly engulfed his cock within her silken sheath again and again.

“Drown little virgin,” Nicole whispered. “Give yourself up to my lusts.”

George writhed beneath her. His own body was betraying him. His hips began to push up and meet her thrusts, driving his manhood deep inside her warm vagina.

There was something at the end of the tunnel of her sex, he realised dimly—a pad of flesh that was hot and lusciously soft. As Nicole’s thrusts grew longer and deeper, the head of his cock nudged up against it. It felt…pleasant. The tip of George’s cock came away with nice tingling sensation and a desire to bury it deeper into that thick soft cushion.

Nicole came down hard, pushing George’s erection all the way up inside her vagina. His cock pressed against that soft obstruction and suddenly it came alive. Soft, hot, moist flesh ballooned around the fleshy helmet of George’s cock and engulfed it—absorbing it almost—in a tight muscular grip.

Nicole gave a sharp intake of breath. She paused. Her vagina contracted—hard—around George’s shaft, trapping him in a tight, fleshy vice. Her eyes widened.

“Oh crap,” she said.


Uh oh. To be continued...

Monday, May 02, 2011

Locked in with a Succubus, part 7

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6.


“Relax. There’s no escape now,” Nicole whispered in his ear. “Mmm, I like to let my victims melt with pleasure. Then I slurp them all up like delicious ice cream.”

George remembered why he should be afraid.

“Still frightened?” Nicole asked. “My my, you are a troublesome client.”

She slid an arm underneath his body, grabbed his arm and pulled, spinning George around until he lay on his back with Nicole on top of him. The waterbed sagged beneath him, comfortable but also a prison.

He saw again her horns and those empty black eyes.

Still frightened? You betcha.

“People will notice if I go missing,” he said. “They know I’m here.”

Nicole put an elegant hand to her mouth and laughed.

“I hope you don’t play cards for money,” she said. “You don’t bluff well.”

She pulled off her panties.

“Of course Miss Kitson knows you’re here,” Nicole said. “She did send you to me after all.”

George’s eyes widened. Why would Miss Kitson do that?

“Now shut up and soak in my pheromones for a while,” Nicole said.

She shifted position until she was crouched above his face and facing his feet. George got an extreme close-up view of the shaven lips of her pussy. George might not have had sex, but he’d still seen his share of porn films. Nicole’s labia seemed plusher and somehow more comfortable looking than the girls he’d seen in those films. They tugged at him with a primal urge and his cock twitched to life as the image of slipping it between those cushioned lips entered his thoughts.

“That’s more like it,” Nicole said as she bent down to caress his erection with her hand.

Her labia twitched, gaping hungrily to reveal a glistening red tunnel. George shivered. The girls in the films he’d watched had never been able to do that. No human was able to do that.

Nicole laughed at his fear. “Just wait, in a moment this lovely rock-hard cock is going to be inside there. Then my sweet little cunt will suck all that fear right out of you. As well as everything else,” she added with a wicked laugh.

George didn’t get a chance to protest. Nicole sat down, smothering his face in the soft flesh of her ass. The bed rocked and swayed beneath him as she ground her body against him. He felt the moist folds of her sex rub against his nose and mouth. Something slender and whip-like wound around his throat.

He couldn’t breathe. Her ass covered his face like a pillow, blocking off his airways. Her warm juices dribbled onto and between his lips. Each drip set off firecrackers of sensation across his nerve-endings. The opposite of a numbing agent, her fluids heightened the sensitivity of whatever skin they came into contact with. George’s lips and tongue fizzed with pleasure. Nicole laughed wickedly and wiggled her body on top of his face.

George still couldn’t breathe. Her tail tightened around his neck like a noose. His mouth and nose were smothered between her ass cheeks. He started to feel light-headed.

Nicole waited until he was on the verge of passing out—George had no idea how she knew; she just knew—and lifted up her ass. Grateful, George took a deep breath—

—and nearly choked on an overpowering, musky scent. It surrounded his head in a cloying cloud and—with his lungs starved for air—George was helpless as he drew the heady perfume into his body. His first instinct was to cough out the corrupted air, but he had no chance to do that as Nicole was already sitting back down on him, smothering him back between the luscious curves of her ass.

The scent was like a fine liqueur—the first taste abrasive, but after that becoming smooth, warm, pleasant; something to crave. Tendrils of perfume twined up his nostrils and wrapped his brain up in soft cotton wool. He felt like he was floating up in the clouds. The bed, so soft and comfortable beneath him, felt like a big fluffy cloud.

The next time Nicole raised her ass George was eager to inhale more of her sweet-smelling musk. He felt it rush down through his body like a head of steam. The pressure built up beneath his manhood and it swelled up even harder until it was throbbing with need.

“Mmm yes,” Nicole purred. “Drown in my lust.”

She folded her body down on him until her breasts were resting on his midriff. Long, skilful fingers touched, prodded and flicked his erection. They crawled down between his legs and tickled through the hairs on his testicles. George’s sigh of pleasure was cut off—smothered—in the descending folds of Nicole’s sex.

A soft hand wrapped around the base of George’s cock. Soft, full lips kissed the tip. Just a light peck for the first, second and third touch. For the fourth, the lips remained there, pressed against the swollen mushroom head of his dick. They slowly sucked, drawing the tip into her mouth like a strand of spaghetti. A quicksilver tongue lapped up the pre-cum drooling from the opening to his urethra.

George groaned into her smothering pussy. His body twitched.

“A-ha,” Nicole released his cock and scolded. “Not yet.”

She pursed her lips and blew on the tip of George’s cock. Something—it felt like a smoke ring or bubble of energy, yet tangible—rolled down the outside of George’s shaft. It settled at the root and cinched tight, choking off George’s premature orgasm before it even started. Dammed, the pleasure backed up and cascaded through George’s writhing body.

“You don’t come until I say you can come,” Nicole said, her voice as soft and as authoritative as an old-fashioned schoolmistress.

Her warm lips enclosed the head of his cock and gave another teasing suck.

“And I’m not letting you come until you’re buried deep inside my hungry vagina,” she released his cock to say.

Her warm breath flowed over and teased the throbbing head of his cock with maddening swirls. Nicole dipped her head forward and took another teasing suck, going deeper this time, letting the head of George’s cock rest on her moist, fleshy tongue. One hand pumped the base of his cock while the fingers of the other fondled and toyed with his balls.

George writhed and squirmed beneath her, battered by waves of sensation crashing through his body. He was helpless as she used her fingers and mouth to play him like a virtuoso musician. Unused to the touch of a woman, he felt the desire to come rise in him again and again, only to crash into and be repelled by the choke around the root of his penis.

Nicole shifted position, climbing off his face. George was finally able to take a breath untainted with the odour of her sex.

“My pussy is hungry,” Nicole said, letting her soft hand caress up the underside of George’s cock. “I think it’s time to let her feed.”


To be continued...

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Locked in with a Succubus, part 6

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5.


“Then I’m sorry to disappoint you,” George said. “I only run that line to make the ladies think better of me. Do you honestly believe a man can get to thirty-four—in this day and age—without ever having sex?”

Nicole chuckled. She leant over him until his eyes were staring up into hers. Their emptiness was a hole that threatened to tug out his soul and reel it up into limitless black depths.

“Cute bluff,” she said. “Not very effective when I can see it clearly for myself.”

“How?” George said. “It’s not like I have a hymen or anything. What’s the difference between spunking my load into a woman’s vagina or the palm of my hand?”

“We know,” Nicole said.

She dipped her head and sniffed George’s chest. Her cheeks reddened and she sighed in pleasure.

“Here.” She took his hand and pressed the palm against her crotch. “Do you think this happens around every man?”

George’s eyes widened. The fabric of her panties was completely sodden. He felt the cleft of her sex beneath. He drew his hand back in alarm as he felt her vulva move independently against his hand. Like a mouth.

Unabashed hunger shone in Nicole’s eyes.

“I want so much to shove your hard cock in my pussy and suck and suck and suck,” she said, her supple lips coming together in a luscious pout.

As much as the prospect thrilled George, he knew it would be too much for him. She’d be too much for him. Her passion would incinerate him like a moth in a candle flame. He had to get away.

Nicole started to undress him, first peeling off his jumper and vest from his unresisting body. As she moved down to his trousers George felt flickers of life return to his limbs. The paralysis, or strange state of blissful enervation, was wearing off. He rolled over and kicked out blindly as Nicole tugged at his trousers and underwear. The bed rocked and swayed with violent motion as he struggled beneath her.

His trousers came away and with them Nicole. Naked now, George crawled across the wildly pitching surface of the bed. He reached out with a hand, found the hard rim of the bed, started to pull himself towards it.

A warm weight settled on his back. Nicole lay on top of him, her soft breasts squashed against his back. George stopped squirming.

“It’s really not possible for a man to fight a succubus from this position,” she whispered in his ear. “Not when he’s naked and she’s on top of him. Not when her naked flesh is pressed against his.”

George’s mouth gaped open and he released a little sigh. Her skin felt so good against him—warm and smooth like silk. He felt a pleasant buzz wherever she came into contact with him, a luxurious tingle which left the rest of his skin hungering to experience the same pleasure.

“It takes the fight right out of them.” Nicole dripped honeyed sin into his ear. “It’s pushed aside as all those illicit little desires come bubbling to the surface.”

George gave another soft little groan. His thoughts were submerged beneath a deluge of pornographic images. Full pouting red lips; eyes gleaming with lust; ripe, round breasts with perky erect nipples; glistening pink pussies—all calling out to him, hungry for him. George struggled to hold on as the torrent threatened to wash his mind away.

Nicole came closer. Her soft lips brushed against his ear. “I can satisfy all of them, every last filthy one of them,” she whispered in his ear.

George shivered beneath her.

She ran a claw lightly over the skin of his shoulder. “What? Doesn’t that appeal to you?”

It did, but his terror of the consequences more than outweighed the stirrings he felt in his balls. It was so unfair.

“Being a virgin at thirty-four is bad enough,” George said. “Now I get to be savoured as a delicacy by a devil because of it. Whatever happened to punishing the deserving sinners?”

Nicole’s finger tickled down between his ass cheeks.

“We wouldn’t be considered evil if we only targeted the bad people,” Nicole said. “Do you consider this to be punishment?”

She lightly kissed the back of his shoulder. Her hand cupped his balls and gently pumped. A warm burst of pleasure washed over George’s body.

“Oh, but you do,” Nicole said. “You tremble like prey. You smell of fear like prey. If I fuck you like this I’ll surely eat you all up like prey.”

She straddled the small of his back and sat up. Out of the corner of his eye George saw her tail loop around the handle of one of the exotic bottles sitting on a bedside shelf. Her tail lifted it up and brought it back to her.

“I think we’ll wear away all those fears with a sexy little massage,” Nicole said.

George heard her work the pump handle of the bottle. He felt a cool liquid splash across his back. It didn’t remain cool for long as her skilful hands started to rub and knead it into his flesh. She pushed her hands up either side of his spine and then across his shoulders, spreading a pleasant little buzz in her wake. They moved up to his neck and she used her long fingers to work out the knots in his muscles. The fragrant aroma of the massage oil tickled his nostrils.

“My, so much tension,” she said. “Have you ever been massaged before?”

“No,” George replied.

Nicole squirted more oil onto his back and danced along his spine with her thumbs. She pressed down with her palms and slid them out to George’s sides, smoothing out the flesh beneath them. A nice feeling of warmth permeated through the muscles of his back.

“You were never tempted to pay a visit to one of those naughty little massage parlours?” Nicole asked.

Her hands glided up to the back of his neck and rubbed behind his ears with soothing circular movements.

“I was always curious about what went on in those places,” George replied. “Miss Kitson suggested I go in and find out. We had a little joke about it.”

He paused.

“I thought about it,” he admitted, “a little, but it was never going to happen. You never know where the girls are from, whether they’re on drugs, crazy, under duress. Not worth the risk. Even if it went fine, I’d still feel like I cheated.”

George didn’t know why he was so forthcoming all of a sudden. He felt odd again. Fogged up. The scented oil smelt extremely pleasant and Nicole’s hands were supremely skilled at working out the kinks and knots in his muscles.

“Miss Kitson did book a masseuse for me one time,” he said. “Not this type,” he added hastily, “a sports masseuse.”

“Sports masseuse?” Nicole queried.

“Yeah. I hurt my knee and Miss Kitson sent a girl round to look at it. A pretty young oriental woman. Really pretty, actually. She had me strip down to nothing but a towel and I was really embarrassed she’d see I had an erection.”

Nicole paused. She chuckled at a joke only she understood.

“Of course she’d try Arisa first,” Nicole murmured. “The weaver and the serpent aren’t reliable enough and she definitely couldn’t send you to the Scottish village.”

“Arisa, yes, that was her name,” George said, surprised Nicole knew it also. “Lovely girl. Had a really nice smile. We never went through with the massage in the end. Something cropped up at the last minute and she had to leave in a hurry. Some kind of family emergency. At least that’s what she said. I think she took one look at my hairy back and legged it.”

Nicole laughed at another private joke.

“I think you have a very nice back,” she said, straightening her arms and rubbing her hands over his shoulder blades. Her sultry voice drifted over him like a warm quilt.

“We never did get round to making another appointment,” George said wistfully.

“A shame,” Nicole said. “I hear Arisa gives a very pleasant body-to-body massage. Truly enveloping.”

Her fingers kneaded the muscles of George’s neck and shoulders.

“And lucky,” Nicole added. “I hear she’s also quite the maneater.”

She bent down low, sniffed the back of George’s neck and murmured contently. George felt the wetness of her sex where it rubbed against the small of his back.

“I’m not without my own talents,” Nicole whispered in his ear.

She lay down on top of him. Her arms went around him, her thighs squeezed against his sides and she squashed her soft breasts against his back. The pleasant tingle of skin-to-skin contact was all around him. Ripples of pleasure ran out across his skin from where her nipples pressed against his flesh. Her heat—and lust—enfolded him. He soaked in it, drew it in through his skin in a form of osmosis. Nicole murmured. She held him tighter. The flow of pleasure increased. George felt trailers of fire race through his blood vessels. He moaned as he felt the heat settle in his balls. They felt bloated—overripe—and the desire to plunge his cock into a soft, snug orifice and relieve the pressure grew overwhelming, shouldering aside other thoughts.

“Relax. There’s no escape now,” Nicole whispered in his ear. “Mmm, I like to let my victims melt with pleasure. Then I slurp them all up like delicious ice cream.”

George remembered why he should be afraid.


To be continued...

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Locked in with a Succubus, part 4

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Time to start turning up the heat...



“Would you like a little tour of my house of sin?” she whispered. “I’m sure you must be curious to see how a high-class escort plies her trade.”

George was, actually.

“Why not,” he smiled.

Nicole looked at her wine glass. It was still full.

“It would be a shame to let this go to waste. Here,” she said, passing him the glass.

Well, it would be a shame, George thought. Before he knew it, he’d tipped the glass back and poured the whole contents down his throat.

“Heh, seems like you really like it,” Nicole said. “Why don’t you bring the bottle with you?”

Whoa, George thought as bubbles of light-headedness trickled up through his brain. He was probably going to regret this come tomorrow morning. Against his better judgment he picked up the bottle anyway. Damn stuff was so moreish.

Nicole led him through the back of her house. It seemed a lot larger than it had looked from the outside. And deeper. She led him down some steps and into a maze-like basement area. The first door Nicole opened led to a very odd room. It looked like a cross between a medieval dungeon and a fitness suite. There were stocks and full-sized crosses covered in black padding. A cage big enough to hold a man if he was on his hands and knees stood in the far corner. A variety of whips and floggers were mounted on the walls.

“Is this your...?” George asked.

“Yes, it’s my dungeon,” Nicole answered. “I bring naughty boys here and teach them some discipline.”

She looked at George and smiled. The bright red colour of her lips contrasted with her pale complexion.

“Have you been a naughty boy?” she asked.

“No no no!” George said, backing away with his hands up. He was thankful Nicole was still wearing her large shades. He suspected he’d be quite unnerved by the look she was giving him right now.

Nicole doubled up with laughter.

“That room was scary,” George said once they were back in the corridor. “Do people really pay you to tie them up and beat them?”

Nicole nodded. “People in power often have their day-to-day lives filled with hard choices. I think sometimes they enjoy ceding that power to someone else.”

George looked at her as if she was speaking Swahili. He shook his head.

“Diff’rent strokes for diff’rent folks,” he said.

They continued on through Nicole’s lower floor. She skipped the next door, but opened the one after it. Now this room was more like how George expected a tart’s boudoir to be. The lighting was low and soft. The walls were hung with heavy black velvet drapes. A huge circular bed took up most of the centre of the room. It was covered in glossy black silk sheets and plush black pillows. An apothecary’s dream of bottles and vials stood on the back shelves.

“This is my relaxation room,” Nicole said.

“Is that a waterbed?” George asked.

“Yes,” Nicole answered.

He pushed down on the edge of the bed and watched the surface sway with wet sloshing sounds.

“Can I?” he asked.

“Be my guest,” Nicole smiled.

“I’ve always wanted to find out what one of these felt like,” George said.

He put the wine bottle down, took off his shoes and dived backwards onto the bed. The bed rocked and swayed beneath him, waves lifting his body up and down. He grinned as he stared up at his reflection in the mirror on the ceiling.

“Yes, I think this is the right room,” Nicole said, looking about her.

George lifted his head up, puzzled.

Nicole took off her coat and hung it on a peg next to the door. Her body was even more gorgeous than George had imagined. She was curvaceous around her chest and ass, but there wasn’t an ounce of spare fat anywhere else. George knew this because he was seeing a lot more of Nicole’s body than he was entirely comfortable with. Beneath her coat she wore a skimpy black bra, panties, thigh-length fishnet stockings, and that was about it.

Her skin was the biggest surprise. She was covered from head to toe in black tattoos. It was an unusual design; George hadn’t seen anything like it before. It looked as if a mad scientist had scribbled all over her body in black pen, covering every inch of her exposed flesh in bizarre symbols and pictograms.

Nicole hadn’t finished disrobing. The bra went next. The mad designs continued across the ample swell of her breasts. Her left breast was decorated with a complex whorl that spiralled all the way down to the pink disc of her areole. George thought she didn’t really need additional help to draw the gaze to the perfect curves of her bosom.

His mouth gaped open. She was topless. Why was she topless?

“Uh...I thought you said Miss Kitson hadn’t given you any money.”

Nicole looked at George and smiled. “She hasn’t.”

Her skin wasn’t the biggest surprise.

She finally took off her shades and shook out her hair. A chill ran through George. What was that at her temples? Horns? And her eyes—god, her eyes—where were they? He saw now why she always wore those dark glasses. There were two empty black wells where her eyes should be. Nicole stretched her shoulders and a pair of black bat wings erupted from her back. A black tail—slender as a whip and ending with a spade-like point—unfurled down the back of her legs.

“Ah, much better,” she said.

She smiled at George. It was the same elegantly angled face; the same full, kissable lips; the same gorgeous contours of her body. Her features should have been perfect, but they also came with horns, wings, tail and those unsettling empty black eyes. It turned her beauty into something horribly wrong. Sexy into perverse.

“W-w-what are you?” George asked.

“I’m a succubus. I guess Inari neglected to tell you that,” Nicole said. “And you appear...” She turned a key in the door, locking it with a click. She hung the key around her neck like a pendant and dropped it down into her cleavage. She turned back to George. A predatory smile was on her blood-red lips. “...to be locked in with me.”


To be continued...

Sunday, April 03, 2011

Locked in with a Succubus, part 3

Part 1. Part 2.

“I’m a prostitute,” Nicole said, absolutely straight-faced and without a hint of shame. “Men pay money to have sex with me.”

Her directness completely threw George off.

“Well...um...”

“Does that bother you?” Nicole asked in a voice that sounded as if it had been dipped in honey.

“No...um...I mean if you’re...um...happy...if it’s what...”

He held out his palms.

“I’m not judging,” he said.

Oh dear. George knew he was making a hash of it and tried to rally.

“I mean, if you look at it a certain way, I do the same thing with the people I go and visit,” he said. “We’re both giving people a bit of company. Only I don’t have to do the...uh...physical side of things...”

George ran aground.

“I’m trivialising it, aren’t I? It’s not the same at all. I’m not forced to...uh...do those...uh...other things...”

Dear oh dear. Keep on digging why don’t you, George.

Nicole didn’t seem to be taking any offence. She laughed at his discomfort. That was good, he supposed.

“It’s fine,” Nicole said. “I get paid well and I enjoy the work.”

Understanding suddenly dawned on George. There could be another reason why Miss Kitson had sent him here.

“Um...Miss Kitson, she didn’t give you any money to...”

“To do what?” Nicole asked, affecting an air of deceitful innocence.

“Oh, nothing,” George said.

It must be the wine, causing his tongue to flap like a flag in a gale.

“Nothing?” Nicole said. She raised a pencil-thin eyebrow.

Her sunglasses made it impossible to tell, but right then George fancied she was staring right through him with a piercing stare. She examined him, no trace of emotion on the flawless mask of her face.

“You’re a virgin, aren’t you,” she stated.

“What,” George protested. “Me? No...of course not. I mean...I’ve had my share...I know what it’s...” he blustered. “Yes,” he admitted. No point lying; she’d see right through it anyway.

“I thought as much,” Nicole smiled. “I saw how uncomfortable you looked whenever I stood close to you. You’re shy around women.”

“Yes,” George admitted. “Don’t make a big thing about it, okay.”

“I’m not judging,” Nicole said, smiling as she held out her palms.

George realised he’d used the same response when she’d told him she was a prostitute. He laughed.

“Another glass?” Nicole asked.

“What?” George looked down. He’d managed to empty the glass without realising it. “Oh, yes please.”

Nicole refilled his glass and walked back to her seat, leaving behind a swish of her musky scent. It really was rather fine, George thought as he started on a second glass. Fruity, bubbly...vital, somehow. Really moreish. He’d have to be careful he didn’t drink it too quickly, in case it went straight to his head.

He noticed Nicole still hadn’t touched her glass.

“You’re not drinking?” he asked.

“I don’t drink wine,” she answered. “I do love the aroma of a freshly popped bottle, though.” She picked up the glass and swirled it beneath her nose, savouring the aroma. “Especially a vintage brimming with such youthful vigour.”

George smiled and shook his head. Beautiful, delightful and very odd.

“How old?” Nicole asked.

George realised she’d gone back to the other topic. “Thirty-four,” he answered with a grimace.

Nicole’s supple red lips formed a perfect ‘o’. She sat back in her chair.

“Really?” she said.

George nodded.

“I always thought it would be one of those things that would just...you know...happen one day. And, well, it didn’t. Or rather it hasn’t.”

“I think it’s sweet,” Nicole said. “It’s admirable to wait so long for that certain special person.”

George’s expression became pained.

Nicole raised an eyebrow. “You’re not waiting for someone?” she said.

“I’m not against the idea of sex for a bit of fun,” George said. “It’s the deception I don’t like. You know how it is. Some blokes will say anything to get in a girl’s knickers. And then they’ll kick them out of bed the next morning without so much as a how-d’you-do. There’s the other stuff as well—getting them drunk, getting them vulnerable—”

“Paying for it,” Nicole interrupted.

“Paying for it,” George repeated. “Drugging the poor lasses if they’re desperate and ratbag enough. Raping them.” George shook his head. “I’m not going down that route,” he said. “I’d rather go without than resort to tricking or forcing the girl.”

Nicole made circular motions with her finger on the table. “So you’re not against the idea of casual sex, so long as the other participant is willing.”

“Oh no,” George said. “I’m not one of those no-sex-before-marriage types. Not that I’ve got anything against them,” he hastily added. “I’m fine with the idea of sex for fun, with the right precautions of course. It’s just I’m a bit...well...crap around girls as you noticed. And I’m not exactly a prime specimen of manhood. Let’s face it, there’re easily hundreds of blokes a girl at a nightclub would rather take home first before getting to me.”

George paused. Nicole didn’t appear to be paying attention. Hard to say with her sunglasses—why was she still wearing them?—but she looked like she was staring into space. George watched as she ran a moist pink tongue over her supple red lips. He caught a whiff of her musky perfume again. Stronger this time.

“Sorry,” Nicole said, snapping out of her sudden trance. “Daydreaming.”

Had her pale cheeks picked up a red tinge?

“Um, Miss Kitson, she didn’t...?”

“No, Inari has not given me any money,” Nicole said with a smile.

“That’s a relief,” George said. “She has some very strange ideas sometimes. About what she thinks people need.”

Nicole leaned forward towards George.

“Does it disappoint you Inari hasn’t given me any money to have sex with you?” she asked.

George recoiled. That directness again. He guessed it came with her profession, but it sure made him feel uncomfortable.

“No...um...I mean you’re...um...really beautiful and I’m sure you’re very...um...good at what you do...”

Good golly, could he dig himself any deeper?

George took a deep breath.

“I’m sure it would be very pleasant,” he said, “but it wouldn’t feel right. I’d always know you only did it because you were paid to. It would feel like cheating, like it didn’t count.”

Nicole smiled at his tongue-tied stammering.

“It’s fine. I understand perfectly,” she said.

“You do?” George said, letting out a sigh of relief. He looked down at his ratty old jumper. “Besides,” he said. “I must be way below your usual clientele. Who are they?” he asked. “Lawyers? Politicians? Football stars?”

Nicole regarded him with an enigmatic little smile.

“Is that the writer in you?” she said. “Digging for interesting stories.”

George blushed. “Sorry. Mustn’t pry.”

Nicole leaned right across the table. Conspiratorial.

“Would you like a little tour of my house of sin?” she whispered.

To be continued...

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Locked in with a Succubus, part 2

Here's part 2 of the little mini-serial I'm running here. Part 1, the introduction, is here.

This was a nice place, George Mead thought as he walked up the steps to the front door. Elegant Georgian terraced housing stretched right up the hill. A quiet street. Posh without being ostentatious.

He rang the bell and was surprised by the woman who answered. She was younger than he’d expected, and far more attractive.

“Nicole?” he asked.

“Yes,” the woman replied. “And you must be George. I was told to expect you.”

She was gorgeous. Delicate high cheekbones, luscious red lips and pale white skin on a face that could easily grace the cover of a fashion magazine. Her jet-black hair was cut in a stylish bob with wings to frame those perfect features. Her figure was hidden by an elegant white fur coat. Her eyes were also hidden; she wore a large pair of black sunglasses. They looked very chic.

Absolutely gorgeous. She could have been a French film star, or a perfume model. What was he doing here?

“That’s right,” George said. “Miss Kitson sent me.”

Nicole didn’t seem so thrilled. Actually, that was a bit of an understatement. George thought he was about to get a door slammed in his face.

“I bring wine,” he said, holding a bottle aloft with a cheerful grin.

The bottle was Miss Kitson’s idea. It was also her bottle. George didn’t have a clue on the quality. There wasn’t even a name on the bottle, just a label featuring silhouettes of sylph-like women dancing around oversized bunches of grapes on a plain yellow-gold background.

It overcame Nicole’s reticence. She looked at the bottle and her cold hostility thawed into a warm smile.

“Come inside,” she said.

George tried to place her accent. He didn’t think it was French, although it had a similar sensual eroticism. Brazilian?

“Let me take your jacket,” Nicole said as he crossed the threshold into a neat little hallway.

“Er, thanks,” George said.

He let her help him even though he didn’t really need the help. Was it him, or was she standing a little closer than was entirely necessary? She seemed to linger a little over helping him remove his garment. Odd girl, George thought as he watched her hang his jacket up next to the door. Extremely beautiful, but odd.

She picked up the bottle of wine and examined the label. Her supple lips turned up in a smile.

“Will you join me for a glass?” she asked.

“Sure,” George replied. It was why he was here after all.

He followed her through into a large kitchen-slash-dining room. For all her glamorous appearance, Nicole’s house looked surprisingly normal, bland even. Her kitchen was so clean and tidy George wondered if she’d ever prepared a meal in it. Nicole opened a cupboard and brought out a pair of pristine wine glasses. She popped open the wine bottle and took in the released aroma with a murmur of pleasure. George caught a whiff of something both fruity and spicy. Nicole poured out two glasses, but instead of passing one to George, placed both on the table instead.

She pulled out a chair and motioned George to sit on it. Again, she seemed to linger a little longer than was necessary behind him. This time George felt a strange prickling sensation on the back of his neck. What an odd girl.

Nicole moved away, leaving behind traces of an exhilarating musk that crackled up George’s nostrils. Nice perfume. She sat opposite from him, her eyes still hidden behind big black shades.

The wine was an odd colour, George thought as he examined his glass. He’d thought it was a white, but it was yellower than any white he’d ever seen, almost like sparkling honey or amber. It must be a specialist brand. That would explain the label.

“I hope this isn’t really expensive,” he said.

“Why?” Nicole asked.

“It’d be wasted on me,” he said. “I’ve got no palette to speak of at all when it comes to wine. It’s all grape juice gone off to me.”

Nicole laughed.

In truth, George didn’t really like wine, but he took an experimental sip anyway. It would be rude not to drink it.

Mmm, that was nice, really nice. It was sweet rather than dry and made his whole tongue come to life, like there was a wild party kicking off in his mouth. He took another sip—bigger this time—and relished the fizzing sensation as it slipped down his throat. Delicious. He took a gulp. He could drink this all night, or at least until he fell out of his chair.

Nicole swirled the glass under her nose. Her nostrils dilated as she savoured the aroma. She didn’t drink.

“How do you know Inari?” She asked.

“Miss Kitson? I’m sort of her odd-job man,” George answered. “I do a bit of gardening here, mend a few wires there. That kind of thing. I help her out with her psychiatry work sometimes.”

“Really,” Nicole said, leaning forwards. Her wine glass was in her hand, but she still hadn’t touched a drop.

“Well...” George started. “I say help out, but really it’s just talking to people. And listening. Miss Kitson sends me out to visit people and I talk to them and listen to their stories. They’re usually old dears, poor things. It’s sad really. Their husbands are long dead, the family doesn’t give a toss, so they’re left on their own. I go over, have a cuppa with them and try and cheer them up. That’s all people need sometimes—someone to talk to. I don’t need any fancy certificates to do that.”

George looked at Nicole.

“I thought that’s why Miss Kitson sent me here, but you don’t exactly look...”

“Old,” Nicole finished for him with a smile. “I’m not lonely either,” she added.

Her smile held extra meaning.

Of course, George thought. A girl as pretty as her would never lack for male attention. It didn’t mean she always had someone to talk to. Being beautiful wasn’t always a guarantee against feeling isolated and separated. Maybe that was why Miss Kitson had sent him.

“But do you ever get a chance to talk?” George asked.

Nicole cocked her head to the side, as if George had said something which had genuinely surprised her. She looked at him and then laughed. It was light-hearted laughter, nothing malicious or mocking about it, more like she was laughing at herself for missing something obvious.

“It’s very noble,” Nicole said, “giving up your time to talk to those lonely old dears.”

“I like it,” George said. “I’ve always wanted to be a writer. To be good at that you have to get out there and hear what people have to say. Some of these people, the things they’ve seen throughout their lifetimes, the stories they know...It’s fascinating. I never understand why they get abandoned when they have such tales to tell. It’s tragic.”

Nicole looked at George with an impish smile. “I can give you some stories,” she said. “Did Inari ever tell you what I do for a living?”

“Um no, I don’t believe she did,” George said. He wondered what was coming next.

“I’m a prostitute,” Nicole said, absolutely straight-faced and without a hint of shame. “Men pay money to have sex with me.”

To be continued...