The Succubus' Tale - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I felt sick with an ague all the morning after the demon's visit. My horror and sickness of soul were slowly replaced by anger at the creature which violated me the evening before. This rage I had growing inside of me was cold, direct, deliberate. I decided that, even if the demon had fathered me, it was not my father. The sweet, handsome blacksmith was my father. And my father doted on me like no man ever did or would. I feared for him now, and if it meant never seeing him again to protect him from the evil that had taken root in me, I would run away to the furthest ends of the earth.

My father was a tall man for his day, nearly six feet tall, but long of body and short of leg. He had deep brown eyes with lines at the side, and swarthy skin from the sunlight. He also had a beard, which he kept tight next to his chin in a blacksmith's style. He always smelled of leather and coal-smoke, and had an easy and infectous laugh. I used to take a kind of semi-erotic pleasure out of sitting on his lap, but now the thought of fucking him and killing him caused the worst kind of nausea in my belly. I steered clear of any thoughts in that direction.

But today, he was worried about my upcoming trip back to Rome. We sat at the rough-hewn wooden table near the fireplace. "Maria," he said, "It's about three hours back to the City. I don't think you should make the trip if you feel chill. You feel almost feverish to my hand. Perhaps you need some more sleep."

I smiled at him to dispell his fears, for the first thing I wished to do was leave his house so that any other visits from the demon would not happen there. I said, "It is merely residing in my nose, and I feel fine, other than the slight chill. There was a fog last night, perhaps that is the cause of it."

My father raked his fingers through his hair, looking thoughtful. "I have a spare blanket in the chest in the rear sleeping room. You will take it with you." He rose up from his seat, and went to the fireplace, where he poured a cupful of hot mulled wine into a mug. "Here, drink that. It has some herbs for ague within."

I took the hot cup and stared within it. Usually, before this morning, I had a normal appetite, but I realized that this wine repulsed me, now. As did the bread and cheese on the table. I attempted a sip of the wine and winced. It was as unpleasurable as drinking mud, but I managed a sip and a small, hesitant smile to my father. "You know, I shall bring this into my room so I might drink it while I attend to my packing." My father nodded at that, seemed about to say something, then shook his head as if in denial to himself. I did not prompt him, but instead took the wine into my room, where I threw it out of my window onto the damp earth, and watched its blood-red color ooze into the mud.

The mid-day approached slowly. I was in fear now, even for seeing my uncle, after the demon's talk of death and fucking. My young mind was in a turmoil, and it was with only a slight sense of relief that my father announced my uncle's wagon from the other room. I picked up my sacks of clothing and walked out, after making sure the bedding and bedroom were clean and bore no trace of my torture the night before.

My uncle looked pale next to the tall, healthy image of my father. His skin was sallow, and his lips were thin lines, as if a man tormented by something, illness or deed. My father voiced his concern, but my uncle waved it away, claiming a stomach dyspepsia after a particularly rich meal. After a few minutes, my uncle bowed to my father and my uncle and I walked outside and boarded the wagon. My father threw a blanket over my shoulders and smiled cheerfully as he waved us away.

About fifteen minutes out of the village, we were starting to pass farms, and soon we would be in the rocky forests. I feared nothing in particular... I just feared, and my uncle stayed silent for the first hour.

Sometime after the first hour he blurted out, "I have been unable to sleep or properly eat for these four days, for my desire of you. I must have you again, God forgive me, or I shall go mad. I found a place, an old stone barn without a roof, not more than an hour's travel from Rome, and we shall go there today. You and I, we shall make love there, so that I may find some release from the maddening lusts that make me want you so." His voice cracked, for he must have seen me shrink away at his confession. He grabbed my wrist, painfully, and said, in a rising voice, "You will obey me, or bad things will happen to you. Do you understand?"

His grip hurt my wrist. I was unable to pull away, but aches began to race up into my womb at his touch. I closed my eyes as a sick fear mixed with the waves of lust starting to yank at my clit and sodden my underclothes. His touch made it start all over again. My other hand reached up to hold to the amulet I had pinned to the inside of my robe, but there was no relief there. The next hour went by excruciatingly slowly, and my uncle nearly started racing his poor horse as we drew near to the turn-off leading to the abandoned stone barn. It was part of an unused, mostly-swampy area near one of the tributary streams, before the rocky ground would rise to the hills surrounding Rome. Now all that was left was a stone barn, overgrown with weeds and vines, and my uncle drove the horse within and tied him to a rock on the ground, never letting go of my wrist, even when we descended off the cart.

Once inside, he grabbed me and kissed me hotly on the lips, moaning his lust into my mouth. It was as if I stood outside my body and watched my wanton reactions to the man kissing me. He lifted my dress and slid his fingers into my bared, sodden pussy. At this point, I cared not whether or not he saw the pentagram scar marking my pussy as tainted by a demon. I just wanted this man with a raging hunger that should have made me fear for his life.

I reached out and grabbed for his cock inside the codpiece banding his leggings. It was already stretching free of its confines, arcing out eagerly and waiting. He untied his leggings and piece, and let them sag to the ground. He pushed my head towards his cock, wordlessly, and I descended to my knees before my uncle, grabbing his hips and engulfing his cock immediately between my lips.

Oh, the velvetiness of that cock. The sweet, maddening taste of his precum as it pulsed small globs over my tongue drove me insane. The hot scent of it, throbbing and eager, proclaimed its willingness to sacrifice its juices into my unholy throat. He wailed as I began to suck, fingers gripping frantically at my head with the sensation of my smooth, hot mouth sucking him exquisitely. What should have caused him pain was instead pleasure.

His hips bucked back and forth, and his balls began to bounce off my chin as my throat opened like a snake's to take him down into my gullet with each stroke. I sought to devour him, like the snake swallows a mouse, so that soon my lips and nose were buried in the thicket of black hair foaming around the base of his shaft. The slamming of his body into my face began to bruise my lips.

Each fresh thrust sent a new small pulse of pre-cum to inspire me to suck harder, faster. The man was at my total mercy now, for there was no stopping the insane animal we had become. We were one creature now, locked together, both of one mind, seeking the same release, only I was the taker and he was the taken. He *would* give me his cum, there was no question. When that certainty took its place in my mind, he lifted higher up on his toes and let out a roar that might be heard for miles. Thick, ropy streams of cum started arcing into my throat and I drew back so that the head rested on my squirming tongue, that I might taste the ambrosia as it welled forth from his balls.

I felt the orgasm rocket up from my toes and grab my womb like a squeezing fist, before it broke into a series of belly-shocking waves that ripped through me in time to the pulses of cum racing out of his cock. I shook in place, as if with a seizure, as I desperately drank him down.

This time I had enough control to pull away after he pulsed himself dry. He slumped down and sat in the grassy dirt, heaving breaths, looking not like a man who just experienced pleasure, but rather one who just experienced pain. He looked almost sick, yet more at peace than he had when we came to the old barn.

I stared at him for a moment, while still tasting the hot aftertaste of his cum on my tongue. I licked my lips clean, and walked to the cart and sat up in my place, waiting for him. He straightened his clothing and we continued on to Rome. Before we entered the city, my uncle said, "At moonrise tonight, you are to meet me in the loft above the stables at the back of the house." I said nothing in reply, and when he looked at me sharply, I just nodded my agreement.

When I arrived back in his household it was as if nothing had happened, which as far as my aunt and cousins were concerned, nothing had. My two cousins suddenly seemed even more annoying, girls as they were, and my uncle's wife seemed vapid, cow-like, insipid. My whole world was now colored with an intolerance of stupidity which liked to mask itself as innocence, and I found myself spending the day alone, avoiding my uncle and tending to my needlework.

When night came, I waited until the house was asleep, and at moonrise that night, an hour before midnight, I slipped out of the bedroom I shared with my two cousins, and went to meet my uncle in the loft.

He was not there, but a dull red glow was in the corner of the hayloft. A familiar chuckle shook me roughly to the core, and I whispered, "My uncle will soon be here. You had better leave, demon."

The creature stepped out of the shadows, its pointed, hideous teeth bared in a rictus of a smile. "I think not. Your uncle is exhausted after your fine job of draining him this afternoon. No, he shall sleep soundly until morning, without even a nightmare to disturb his sleep."

I sat in the hay, hands gripping my skirts tensely. He continued, "You see the possibilities before you, do you not? Your effect on the mortal male shall be overwhelming, when you wish it. You must first learn control, or the merest touch of your hand or your nearby presence will drive men to raging lusts. While you may want that effect on occasion, it is inconvenient when you are trying to mask yourself in the mortal realm."

I listened to him dully, my mind still working on the memories of that afternoon, when my uncle was desperately thrusting his cock into my mouth, as if seeking oblivion in the release of his sperm down my throat.

The demon said, "You will learn that all mortal men wish death, deep down. They seek pleasurable deaths, the ecstasy of oblivion that only a succubus or a skilled mortal whore can offer. A man tortured by lust is a tool to be used in our struggles against the Enemy." I looked up at the demon, past his jutting penis and into the expressionless red glow of his baleful eyes. He said, "It will be your duty to further our cause on Earth."

I said, "What if I choose not to?"

He chuffed. "You can choose not to, and die. You will die in a pain-wracked way, desperate for release but too weak to move after a time without the delectable taint of mortal semen." He moved closer to me, then, and lifted my gown up over my head, and picked me up in his arms like a doll.

He continued, " Your oblivion will come slowly, not before you have explored all the avenues of desperation and desire. Even if you were able to battle and overcome your desires, and sink into death, you would wake up in torture in the lowest reaches of Hell, where you would need to work for centuries to crawl out of the pit into the ease of the mortal world."

I hated him now more than ever. He took delight in my horror and despair. The stink of his flesh overwhelmed me just as it had the night before, and he yanked off my drawers and let them fall to the floor. He turned me around in his grip so that my back was to him, and the hard jab of his animal penis was wedged up between the soft globes of my ass. He grunted in satisfaction at the trembling in my body as I readied myself for the onslaught of pain.

I sobbed, "Don't... there must be another price I can offer you." He held me in place off the ground, and thrust. Arcing, intense pain raced out from my asshole where the tip began pushing inside. He grunted, "No, this is my price. Your virgin ass. Then I shall teach you how to suck cock properly, and how to control your passions." He slapped my ass. "Beg me not to fuck you."

I gasped, "No!" as he nudged at my asshole, causing me considerable pain again. He said, "Beg your father not to fuck you."

I screamed, "You're not my father!" and at that his claws dug into my flesh, painfully. He hissed, "You doubt me? No? I suppose it's a pitiful display of your loyalty to that sack of scum playing at blacksmith, mm? Should I tell you again how tight your mother's pussy was as I fucked her?" My struggles excited him. I wanted to turn and attack him, punch him, kick him. Instead, I was held motionless, on the edge of becoming impaled on his cock. He laughed, and said, "I will make you call me Papa before I finish you tonight."

Slickened by the copious precum leaking from his tip, the wedge-shaped head eased into my ass bit by bit, until the head popped into that violated hole with an audible sound. Accompanying the sound was a hot, poker-like pain that set my body dancing in his grip. He thrust at me madly now, working back and forth while his cock sawed in and out of my poor, tender asshole. He whispered, maddeningly, in my ear. "I am your papa. Say it." I stayed silent except for the soft sounds of pain bursting from my lips.

Hot demon cock raped me yet again. Like the first time, I enjoyed it even as I hated him fiercely. His cock roughly thrust within my bowels, and as my asshole stretched to accomodate him, the pain began to dwindle to be replaced with lust. I threw myself back at him as the pleasure began to overwhelm me. I began swearing back at his curses in earnest, whoreson, bastard, filthy abomination, and it seemed to excite him even more.

He slammed once, twice, violently, imbedding his cock deep in my bowels. He stopped, and whispered, "Call me Papa, whorebitch." At my silence, he was soon using me like a rag doll to fuck his cock, and his balls slapped roughly against my pussy on each of his impaling thrusts. Every time I came close to orgasm, he would stop, maddeningly, with the ring of my asshole sucking and throbbing around the base of his imbedded cock. He would whisper, "Call me Papa." He would not resume at my stubborn silence until my frantic buildup would ebb away. He repeated this over and over, until I was mad with passion and desire for release.

Finally I screamed, "Fuck me, Papa!" and he did not begin to move. He hissed, "Who is your father?" and I said, "YOU!"

At that, he began fucking me violently again, this time moving his hips side to side on every thrust, as if he sought to completely fuck every angle of my bowels. My small ass bounced against his bristled hips and I came, and came again with this filthy violation. He howled, and I bit back my screams of pain/pleasure as gouts of his thick, scalding poison filled my bowels with hose-like fury. After he spent the contents of his balls deep inside my ass, he lifted me off his cock with an audible popping noise, and threw me to the hay. His thick cock lurched, slick with brown ooze from my ass. He smiled wickedly, and my instruction on how to suck cock began while the juices from my fucked ass still coated his cock.

Not only did I learn how to suck cock to drive any man mad, I learned how to extract even more cum out of their bodies than they would otherwise give. I learned finger pressures and magical fields to coax every available drop from their bodies, so much so that one suckling would lead them to exhaustion.

My other instruction that night included how to avoid giving into lusts as they presented themselves, and how to shield myself from causing lusts in men until I was ready to allow them. I returned to bed while it was still night, a full hour before the beginnings of dawn, sore, violated, and filled with hatred.

Continued in Chapter 4

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