The Succubus' Tale - Chapter 1

Introduction

Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Sthethya, First Consul Succubus to his Supreme Evilness. Some of you might be surprised; I'm sure you didn't know succubi were still around in this day and age.

What is a succubus? You might well ask that, for we often visit mortal men in the comfort of their dreams. We are creatures born out of the union of daemon with human; we are abominations of nature who thrive on the male life force. We steal life from men by stealing their sperm, which we use later for other magics and to support our own existance on the mortal plane.

I have been a succubus for over nine hundred of your years. During that time, I have felled empires, corrupted godly men, and spawned evil and hatred on Earth. While Earth may be more complicated now than it was several hundred years ago, there are still many opportunities for evil. You don't think all the current sex scandals were created by mere mortal women alone, do you?

Now that you doomed mortal men have delivered all those thousands of gallons of warm, delcious cum into my hungry orifices, I should confess that there have been relatively few instances where I've been impressed. Often, especially in my earlier years, I have had to seduce three or four men a night just to fight off the weakness of starvation. Despite this, there have been many memorable encounters.

These are my memoirs and my daily journals. Some of them date back from when I was still a third-rank succubus; the weakest kind. Third-rank succubi have to feed several times a night or else it's *ZOOP*! back to the lowest levels of the Big BBQ for a few decades while they build up enough strength to climb outward for their next foray into the mortal world. You can find the junior succubi standing on street corners now-a-days... or working in Vegas brothels.

Chapter 1

I can remember my mortal existence, although it is hundreds of years past. My name was Maria, and I lived near Rome. These were troubled times for the Italian States, with local unrest and problems with the Church (which would soon be moved to France). The year was, I estimate, somewhere around 1250 AD, and I was the only daughter of a tradesman, actually a blacksmith. My family was well-known in the area. My grandfather had been a local landowner and merchant. He had three sons; the eldest blackened our family name by entering the priesthood. The middle child, my father, became a blacksmith. My youngest uncle followed in my grandfather's footsteps and was a merchant with ties to Venice. My mother was one of the most beautiful women in all of the world. She was in love with my eldest uncle, but after he went into the priesthood and refused her, she became my father's wife. I feared my eldest uncle absolutely; he was a great, tall, dark man, with deep-set brooding eyes of a pale color and a stern demeanor. He always viewed me with a dour expression, as if he could see my innermost sins without my confession of them.

They said I was the image of my mother. My mother was dark and lovely, with flashing eyes and an infectuous laugh. She was very much in love with my father. I remember nights at a tender age, while I still lived at home, being occupied with lying awake on my pallet, my fingers playing within the soft, damp, velvety folds between my legs while I listened to my parents fuck in the room next to mine. I never confessed my desires to the priest out of my fear of my uncle. and I was not even old enough to bear children, but I still had great lusts raging in my small soul. My desires were confusing and powerful... so great that, starting from about age seven, I would place small objects up inside my untouched virginity so that I might walk about during the day and feel them slide and bulge inside of me. And now, with the first small hints of my maturity, I had started to achieve orgasms on occasion, which were new and very heady rewards for my carnal labors. But it was still not enough for me. I craved more... much more... and I could not put a name to the craving. My mother caught me masturbating several times and spanked me, telling me that it was a sin and that I must not. Her face always went white when she saw any hints of sexual behavior on my part, but I am sure she never spoke of the incidents to my father. It was from my mother that I learned to keep my desires secret.

Unconfessed, my sins boiled in my heart and multiplied in my soul. Despite the fact I had the face and body of a sweet dark angel of a girl, my soul was tormented by mortal sin. My mother died when I was eleven from a wasting disease that came on her so mysteriously that the people of our town said she was felled by an evil eye. I felt a crushing guilt, and believed it was my lusts that doomed my poor, lovely mother (in fact, I was not half wrong). My guilt was compounded by the fact that I found myself, after her death, with inexplicable effects on men and boys, who now seemed to find me strangely compelling no matter where I went or what I did. The effect seemed to extend to my father, whom I found staring at my developing breasts before he flushed dark red and told me he was going to send me away to my younger uncle's house -- for without a mother I needed to be brought up as a young lady should. My uncle, his wife, and his two daughters lived in the merchant's quarter of Rome. I was excited... to live in Rome instead of our little village! I was able to visit my father once every fortnight, but I missed him terribly. My greatest discomfort, however, was that my eldest uncle, the priest, also visited my youngest uncle more often than he did my father (since my youngest uncle actually lived in Rome and not several miles distant). I found myself facing this man several times a month over the supper table.

Ah, but Rome seemed to make up for all these horrors. I was often allowed out with my aunt and my cousins to go on shopping trips, and there were men everywhere I looked, unlike the small population back in my home village. Men! They were fascinating creatures, large and strong. I wanted one to pick me bodily into his arms... and then what, I was not sure. Although I was still unknown to men, I had no illusions as to what sex entailed, nor was I immune to its possibilities. Men began to affect me while I was still very young, and I had a definite affinity for their company, my father especially. I loved sitting on his lap and smelling the combination of leather, sweat, and sulfur, but I had no experience in the joys of male anatomy, until I was introduced to them while I was still a girl.

My sinful lusts were to blame, bless them. I had escaped to the loft at the rear of my uncle's house often in the early mornings while others in the house were still asleep, the only private place I had to seek relief since I now shared sleeping arrangements with my boring and innocent female cousins. This particular summer morning was already sultry and bright, and my short robe was gathered up around my narrow hips while I lay cushioned in the hay. My legs were spread wide and open to allow my fingers full purchase inside the shallow folds of my vulva. I delighted in the warmth of a beam of light that I had positioned myself to allow to fall directly on my swollen and tingling clit. There were other thin shafts of light coursing through the dusty air, which originated through the shutters from the morning sun and I could feel warmth shining on my body and glistening pussy while my fingers rubbed furiously at my clit. I had been spread and desperate for release for a full ten minutes on the rough but cushioning hay.

The fact that I was barely orgasmic gave me no stay against trying anyway. I was straining, trying to catch the hook that would plunge me into another frantic explosion of fluttering and subsequent temporary relief from the raging desires that were consuming me. I was now old enough to experience that exquisite release, but still seemingly young enough that orgasms did not come easily; when they did, I felt near to fainting from the pleasure and enjoyed actual peace of mind for a few hours afterwards, until the maddening desires clutched at my pussy once again.

I was just moments away from another hard-won orgasm, and my slender thighs were straining so wide that muscles were beginning to cramp in my hips and thighs. Suddenly, I heard a soft breath not my own, and my eyes flew open, my desperate fingers frozen just a second away from the threshold of release.

My uncle, visible only from the shoulders up, stood on the ladder where he had come up from the horse barn. He was staring right at my sunlight-drenched pussy and my wet fingers, and I saw his right arm moving slowly beneath the level of the floor. I could only guess at what he was doing or how long he had been standing there.

I don't know what came over me. An ice-cold voice in my mind said, "Continue." I should have pulled my robe down in shame, but instead I let my fingers rub at my hard little clit once again, and closed my eyes, catching the pleasure once more and flying into one of the hardest orgasms I had ever experienced at my own hand. I jerked, twitched, and moaned. My bottom and thighs lifted up off the hay in a paroxysm of pleasure, while juice dripped from my softly fuzzed slit to
cover my raised asscheeks and moisten the hay beneath me. I heard an answering moan, and opened my eyes to dazedly watch my uncle break into a sudden shudder, still only his shoulders showing above the loft floor. His eyes were still fixed on me yet were half-closed, and I could only guess he was feeling the same pleasure as I, though my curiousity as to what his male equipment must be like had to wait until later.

He whispered, "Not a word," to me, and disappeared down the ladder. We spoke no more of the incident, and I did not return to the loft for the gnawing fear that he should tell my eldest uncle, the priest, even though my lecherous thoughts had begun to swing in the direction of seducing my own uncle. My fears of hellfire were dwindling; no rapid punishment seemed to be coming my way, and my shaky faith was tottering at its base.

It was the next month, while my uncle and I were riding on his horse to visit my father in our village several miles away, that everything changed. We rode in a wagon together, the first time we had been alone since that morning in the barn. We were silent for several minutes out of Rome, and when began to pass through the countryside and forest copses, I had a sudden urge to urinate. I tugged on his arm and as he let me to the ground, I ran into the woods at the side of the path, crouching to pee. I heard a rustle behind me, and my uncle stood watching me, his frowning face half hidden in the shadows of the trees. I finished and turned to face him, and he seemed to make up his mind. He took my hand and walked me deeper into the woods.

I felt an ache and a slickness begin between my legs as I realized what might happen. I had been dreaming of seducing my uncle for the weeks since I saw him orgasm in the barn. Oh, I had seen animals mate, and I had the naive impression that perhaps my uncle (who was twenty-seven and still very handsome for being so old) was going to mate with me, rather like the sheep or the dogs did, by gripping me about my waist and pressing his cock into my pussy.

He led me deep within a copse of willow and elder, and there sat down on a rock, leaving me standing before him.

"I want you to take off your robe and let me see you, naked." he said, quietly.

I felt a cold rush of fear and anticipation, and more excitement that dampened my thighs. I took off my robe and stood there before him. He turned me around and I heard a soft gasp, and then a low moan. "My eldest brother is right. You have a witch's mark, child. This explains what happened when I caught you in the hay loft. How your sin excited me so, even from a distance." I felt a firm hand on my buttock, and I strained to see what he was talking about, but could not.

I said, "What is that?" and he replied, "You have a brown mark on your flesh, upon your bottom, in the shape of a pair of lips, as if the Dark One himself has marked you for carnal sin. You must never, ever show this mark to anyone, else they will claim you as evil, and you may be tried
and burned if ever a witch cry is released. We shall consult your eldest uncle for guidance."

His last statement made my skin crawl and grow cold. I opted for a way out of 'consulting my eldest uncle': I should seduce this man and make him guilty as I. I pressed my bottom into his hand while he still had a firm grip on my left asscheek. One of his fingers slid along my smooth skin and slid into the wet slit below. His hand seemed to spasm at the feel of my hot, wet flesh on his fingers, and he groaned loudly as if in pain. He whispered, "For one barely become a woman, you have all of the sins of Eve to tempt me, and may God forgive my own sin." At that, he picked me up, bodily, spinning me around and crushing his lips to mine. I threw my arms around his neck and suckled on his bottom lip. He thrust his rough tongue into my mouth and yanked off my boots. He then lifted me high in the air and dipped my torso downward, placing each of my legs on either side of his neck, and buried his bearded face into my privates.

Such a feeling I had never experienced! It was rough and ticklish and overwhelming at the same time. His whole mouth engulfed the soft folds of my vulva, sucking and licking madly. I twisted in his grasp, trying to thrust myself wholly into his mouth for the pleasure. I felt his tongue lick and suckle at my clit and then impale itself into my virginal hole where it twisted and thrust. I felt weak with pleasure, and my legs locked behind his neck as I gasped and thrust at his face.

I felt, rather than heard, a curse burst from my uncle's lips, and one of his hands let loose of me while his tongue reclaimed my vagina. I felt him move about beneath me, and after a moment he lifted me off his tongue and shoulders. His dark eyes were blazing with an insane lust, that nearly frightened me, and he let me to the ground. Before me, erect and visibly throbbing, was the purplish arc of my own uncle's penis, where beads of milky moisture were slowly dripping from the dark tip winking from behind the encompassing fold of skin. I was fascinated by the sight, and a weak hunger rushed through me. I think he was bent on taking my virginity, but a strange and foreign impulse took hold of my mind. I felt another wave of weakness, and leaned forward, controlled by a hunger I could not explain. My impulse was to lick at that strange liquid, which drew me to it like honey must draw the flies. My tongue swiped smoothly and scooped up the fluid, and the taste of it burst into me like a sensory explosion. Suddenly, at my first taste of semen, it was as if I was awoken from a dream, into a passion that frightened me even as it swept my small, trembling body into a raging torrent of unholy desires.

This desire focused on my uncle's cock. It was as if the entire universe was centered on a sudden urge to suck on his cock like a baby must suck on a teat. My uncle gasped in disbelief as my small lips circled the slick, leaking head, with my mouth straining open to suckle more of him within my mouth. I mouthed and licked at him, the salty taste of his precum coating my mouth with an oily feel and slicking over my working lips. Another taste drew me closer to madness, and I felt an orgasmic rush start to build inside my womb as more and more of his hard cock slid over my small tongue.

He responded to my sudden unnatural hunger with a madness of his own. He threw back his head, grunting and growled as his hands roughly raked through the wind-tangled darkness of my hair and then gripped my head, fucking his hips towards my face. We were like two strange animals, locked in a close, fatal combat with each of us fighting against the other but locked and unable to move, with his cock straining to thrust into my hungry throat and my mouth fighting to take every inch of what he was demanding I swallow.

After a moment of this exquisite madness, what was at first a cock much too large for my mouth seemed to slide more easily, for his rock-hard shaft began sliding in and out of my straining lips almost effortlessly. Granted, he did not penetrate very far, but my small hands milking at the velvety skin over the rigid steel of his erection served their purpose. I milked at his shaft like I might strip at a cow's teat, only gentler.

I do not know how much time elapsed, for I was in an ecstasy of hunger and triumph. It was quick, however, for it seemed his fit began instantly. His moans broke into curses laced with disbelief. He raised up on his tiptoes when the first squirt of cum flew out of the slit at the tip of his cock while his hands gripped my hair and slammed my head down against his groin as far down as I could take him. It was with the first full blast of his cum that the unbelievable orgasm hit me.

I had not touched myself, but I was orgasming! Waves of ecstatic pleasure coursed through me as I sucked each burst of cum out of his cock. My hand instinctively moved down to gently milk at his balls while I helplessly gave into the animal pleasures. I had never tasted anything so sublimely delicious! It was pungent, salty and rich, and I swallowed each heavy spurt eagerly. I continued milking at him until his roars of pleasure became hoarser and weaker. I did not let up; his cock continued to pulse even after he had shot himself dry and every drop had been swallowed down my eager throat. My pleasure continued unabated at each tiny taste of this new heaven, so I sucked incessantly with the same madness that demanded I swallow his cock in the first place. His hoarse cries sounded painful, but he still gripped my head in place, helpless himself to pull away from me... as unable as I was unwilling to stop this unnatural act. My unholy hunger seemed to be awakened with the taste of my first man.

My uncle let out a fresh roar and a new but weaker series of pulses rippled through his cock, and he slowly fell to his knees with my mouth still locked and suctioning at him to drink the smaller flow of hot cum that was squirting over my tongue. His breathing was labored, but he still gripped my head helplessly, straining towards my mouth even as he collapsed with his back to the rock. His hips beat weakly upwards, trying to fuck at my mouth and then he let out a small cry and lay still, panting.

I continued to suck for several minutes until I came back to sanity. His cock grew limp as soon as I released it, and I gathered my senses about me to pull away at this moment. I licked at his softened cock to gather every last bit of delicious juice before I looked upward to see him staring at me with obvious disbelief, and his manner seeming half unconscious. It was nearly an hour before he was strong enough to stand and lead me, wordless, back to the road and the cart which stood there, untouched. We continued to my father's house where he left me to spend three sated, satisfied days, happy as a child.

Continued in Chapter 2