Succubated!

Susan sighed and lifted the metal knocker. It was in the shape of an elephant’s head, with the knocker at the end of the trunk. After she knocked, they heard footsteps, and the door swung open. The woman inside was dressed professionally, in a gray skirt and white blouse, her graying blonde hair in a ponytail. Her expression remained guarded at first, but then shifted into surprise, and finally excitement.

“Susan! What are you doing here? Come in! George, look who it is!” The woman called towards the interior of the house, then turned on her heel to look at her visitors again. “Oh my God, if I’d known you were coming, I’d have made cookies!”

“No, no, Carol!” Susan waved her hands emphatically. “It’s just me. I’m so sorry to drop by without calling you, but um…”

Carol Miller ushered them all inside before Susan could finish her sentence. The older woman looked nothing at all like her daughter, John noticed. He hadn’t known Susan was adopted. Carol regarded the three guests appraisingly: John in his jacket and collar, Cassandra looking intensely uncomfortable while slouching in an oversized leather jacket, and Maria, wearing the “New Jersey Catholic Day Camp” t-shirt and jean shorts, along with a mischievous smile.

“Susan, who have you brought us? Introduce me to your friends, dear…” She peered at John, then continued without leaving Susan an opportunity to interject. “Why, aren’t you Father Hayes? I saw you at St. Andrew’s when we visited Susan for Easter!”

John coughed and extended a hand, doing his best to smile with his usual “friendly pastor greeting parishioners” expression. “Of course, Mrs. Miller. It’s lovely to meet you properly—we’ve all heard so much about you and Mr. Miller from Susan.” John had not, in fact, heard Susan say a word about her adoptive parents. Carol Miller’s expression reflected a similar skepticism, which soon faded into warmth and greetings.

They made their way to the kitchen and Carol insisted they all sit at the kitchen table while she brewed a fresh pot of coffee. She offered cookies as well, despite a disclaimer that they were “more than a day old.” Susan quickly steered the conversation to explain their predicament.

“We were hiking up in the Catskills,” Susan explained, “trying to find a location for a Catholic camp. But we got a little lost, and our friend Sherill got injured by some falling rocks.” Carol put her hand over her mouth. “Don’t worry, mom! She’s doing all right now, though we had to drop her off at a hospital in Poughkeepsie. But my phone ran out of battery, and I didn’t have a charger… I’m sorry I didn’t call before showing up!”

Mostly true at a technical level, John thought, but Miss Miller clearly has a lot of experience lying to her mother through omission. And I wish she’d clued us in before showing up here.

At some point, George Miller wandered through the kitchen. A decade older than Susan’s mother, he wore a plaid bathrobe and a confused expression, but seemed happy to see his daughter. He nodded thoughtfully when his wife told him they’d have six people for dinner. George’s role turned out to involve a long phone call to a local Chinese restaurant, during which he confused everyone’s names and orders with increasingly bizarre mispronunciations.

Maria and Cassandra helped Carol set the table while John nodded to Susan. “Everything all right, Miss Miller?” The young academic seemed cheerful enough, but her eyes held a hint of sadness behind her spectacles.

“Fine, Father,” she said, pulling out a chair at the dining table and setting her chin on her hands. “I just hate lying to my parents.”

John nodded carefully. “I’m going to guess they don’t know about your interest in magic and demons?”

Susan grimaced. “They’re normal, conservative Catholics. Mom thinks she convinced me to leave my queer identity and unsavory hobbies behind, back in college.” She frowned. “When I started researching parapsychology, she tried to sign me up for church activities instead. And George… well, you’ve met him. He doesn’t pay that much attention.”

John put a hand on his chin. “We’re all getting used to hiding things these days. Not the easiest habit to break.”

He paused, unsure of how to offer support without stepping over a boundary. Susan saved him from making a poor decision by raising her head and speaking again. “Thanks, Father Hayes. Let’s eat.”

Before long, they all sat around the Millers’ dining table, helping themselves to roast duck and pork, fried rice and shrimp lo mein, dumplings and spring rolls. The Millers’ local restaurant didn’t hold a candle to New York Chinatown, but clearly delivered quickly and in quantity.

Carol Miller regaled them with the story of how she and George had adopted Susan after a Church-sponsored trip to Korea, years ago. John did his best to maintain a respectful demeanor, but noticed how Susan grew silent and downcast during this story. Almost as quiet as Cassandra, he thought; the demon hunter’s vocabulary hadn’t moved beyond “thank you” and “pass the noodles, please.”

After dinner, John went to help Mr. Miller with the dishes while Susan’s mother led the girls upstairs.

“Let’s see. Susan, I’m sure you’ll want to stay in your old bedroom.” Carol Miller paused in the carpeted hallway, tapping her lower lip with one finger. “I hope Father Hayes doesn’t mind sleeping on the pull-out couch downstairs. Cassandra and Maria, our guest room has a queen-sized bed. Would you be all right sharing it?”

“Sure!” said Maria, “It’ll be a slumber party!” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively at Cassandra, but the Demon Hunter gave Susan a questioning look.

“Mom,” Susan hissed. “Cassandra and I are—we’re together.” Susan took the other girl’s arm, while Cassandra just stared at Carol like a cornered alleycat. Carol gave the pair an unreadable glance.

“Oh, honey!” Carol Miller said after a moment, laughing in a forced, abbreviated gasp. “Not again! When are you going to grow up and find a nice man?” She put her hands on her hips, looking at Cassandra with a frank appraisal. “Cassandra, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to sleep in the guest room. That’s all right, isn’t it?”

Cassandra took even longer to reply, then inclined her head slightly in a stiff bow. “Of course, ma’am.” Susan stared daggers at her mother, who pointedly looked in the other direction. As Carol ushered Maria and Cassandra down the hallway, Susan mouthed “later!” at the flustered hunter, then stepped into her childhood bedroom.

It was sparse: a simple bed, a desk with a few knick-knacks, a closet, and a set of bookshelves. Figurines crammed a higher pair of shelves, set on a wall that still sported posters of shows Susan had watched in high school. She’d barely slept here in years, not since she moved into her dorm room in college.

Stepping over to the window, Susan peered out onto the street below. It was getting dark outside, the sky cloudless and a vivid orange color, fading to pink over the horizon. She glanced down at the windowsill and picked up a small, framed photo lying there.

Two dark-haired girls, both about seven or eight years old and wearing blue track jackets, stood in the middle of a soccer field. Me and Jiyoun, Susan thought. Everything else here feels like a relic of a past I left behind… but why didn’t I bring this photo to school with me?

A half hour later, a soft knock nudged the door open. Susan turned from her seat at the desk and smiled as John came into the room, looking exhausted but resolute.

“Hey,” she said, feeling the faint wash of comfort that always seemed to emanate from the priest’s broad-shouldered form. “You survive doing dishes with George?”

John nodded. “He made some jokes about whether I could speed things up by blessing the sink and washing the grease off with holy water… but I kept a smile on my face.”

“Thanks for being a good sport, Father.” She indicated the screen of the tiny laptop in front of her. “We won’t be here for long… at least not if I can find another lead on Una’s location.” John settled himself in a small chair beside the door.

“You think she’ll get in touch with us?” His own brow furrowed, a shadow of concern crossing his features.

“I have no idea,” Susan admitted. “Depends on too much. Is Nezz still chasing her? Does she remember my mobile number? Can a half-naked demoness walk into a restaurant and ask to use a phone without causing a scene? For now, I’m just looking for news of sightings.”

She switched to another window. “So far, the only unusual report in the area is about an extremely localized thunderstorm centered on Mt. Marcy. That could be something… or nothing. Hmm, what’s this? A horned, shaggy man running through traffic… that doesn’t sound like a description of Nezz, though.”

“You’d think a thirty-foot tall demon would attract more attention,” John mused, “But I suppose the compound was up in the hills, fairly remote.”

Susan turned to him. “Speaking of which… you hear anything from the Church? Any word of a response, security forces come up here or anything?”

John shook his head. “I left a message for Monsignor Albert, but you know him… it’s not like he’d tell us anything, even if he knew all about it. I’m not exactly on the high-level mailing lists, Susan… and if Rome is sending one of the new Swiss Guard units, it’d be hush-hush. They’ve got their own air transport and everything.”

Susan closed her eyes, thinking. “If Nezz really was involved with the Vatican somehow, if it wasn’t just Thomas Spencer acting on his own, but with the full awareness of the Church…”

“Then we’re screwed,” John interrupted grimly. “That would mean the Holy See has fallen under demonic influence or is trying to use forces like Nezz.” He rubbed his eyes. “Susan, we have to take this one step at a time for now. I realize it’s hard just having to react to what’s going on…”

Susan chuckled bitterly. “Yeah. I just don’t like feeling helpless.” She looked at him sadly. “But what else should we do? Just wait for Una to contact us?”

John shrugged. “For now. And keep an eye on your information sources, but not every thirty seconds. Get some rest… in the morning we’ll call Dr. Avakian, then head back to the black site to see what we can do. Who knows, Una might have returned there? But first…”

“…get some rest. I understand, Father. Good night.” Susan smiled, stood up, and gave him a warm hug. John wrapped his arms around her. It was different now that they’d… been with each other, John thought. Having sex on the ground side by side, giving our pleasure up to her.

John couldn’t help but remember something else: this very woman, miraculously regenerating from a slashed throat, golden light spilling out of the wound and healing her. He hadn’t even asked her about that. But in most ways, she still seemed to be the same old Susan.

***

Susan sat up, not quite realizing what had woken her, but still coming alert with a shock of adrenaline. Some kind of sound. A thump?

She slipped out of bed, just wearing an oversized BTS t-shirt, a relic from high school. There was a scraping sound above her, on the roof near her window. Then another noise: a tapping on glass.

Susan went to the window and peered up. A dark shape leaned over from above, inches from her face on the other side of the glass. She gasped and stumbled backwards, heart pounding. The figure outside moved downwards, then flipped, one arm raised to hang from the eaves outside. A dark, pointed fingernail tapped on the glass again.

“Susan? Is that you?” came a familiar voice in a loud whisper.

“Una!” Susan ran to the window, flung it up and reached out. Her hands pulled at the naked, crimson body, her own heart flooding with relief.

“Hey, whoa! Let me get inside first.” The succubus swung by one hand, then slipped her hooves into the window and pulled herself through. Once she was safely inside, they collapsed against each other, laughing and embracing in relief. Una smelled of wild, animal musk: earthy and spicy and warm.

“Sorry to wake you,” Una whispered. Susan stared at the demon who’d been her supervising priest, then her lover and girlfriend, and had now become something more. The succubus was completely naked: long limbs and sharp features, large breasts tipped with black areolae and nipples, the lean curves of her luscious body.

Her shape stood out in the dim light from the window, making Susan’s pulse pound. Her horns had grown slightly since the last time Susan had really looked at her, curving back over her dark wave of hair in a pair of elegant spirals. The succubus felt different somehow… but Susan couldn’t put her finger on why.

“I have so many questions,” she admitted. “But mostly I’m just glad you’re okay, so first…” Susan wrapped her arms around the succubus’s slim waist, feeling Una’s soft breasts press into her chest.

Una kissed her, gently at first, then with growing hunger. Their tongues intertwined, and they both sighed with the pleasure of reunion. Susan slid her hands down the succubus’s back, enjoying the way Una’s plentiful ass clenched against her hands.

When they finally parted to breathe, Una pulled back and stared at Susan for a moment. Her yellow eyes searching the other woman’s, her uncanny, horizontal pupils moving only slightly. The tip of Una’s tail flicked back and forth in excitement over her shoulder. “I’m so glad you guys got away… and that I could find you.”

Susan couldn’t resist; she leaned in again to kiss the succubus softly and ground her pelvis against Una’s thigh, feeling the warm wetness between her legs growing rapidly.

“Oh!” said the succubus, then licked her lips. “I thought you had questions?”

“Hmm, yes,” murmured Susan, running her fingers through the succubus’s silky, dark hair. “How did you find me? What happened after you flew off with Nezz in pursuit? Are you all right?”

Una took a deep breath and let it out slowly, pulling back a little to look Susan in the eye. “Wow, not sure where to start. I’m fine… better than fine, maybe? I flew here, you can guess that much. Seemed more prudent than trying to get on a bus naked. Somehow… I knew where you were. As if I was remembering my way home.”

She gave Susan an intense, serious look. “Did you do anything? To draw or summon me here?” Susan shook her head, wondering. “When I was close enough, I saw the church van and peeked in windows until I saw you.” Una giggled nervously; she was clearly embarrassed. “I saw the name on the mailbox and figured this must be your parents’ house, but… I didn’t think I should knock at the front door.”

Susan nodded, making a face and grinning. “Yeah… I haven’t been able to explain to my parents that I’m in love with Father Belmont, who’s now a succubus… an incredibly luscious succubus.” Una laughed gently; her eyes gleamed with delight, and Susan blushed. She hadn’t often felt the urge to declare her love.

“Are the others here? John and Maria, Cassandra and… Sherill, what’s happened to Sherill?” They sat on the bed as Susan explained the situation, then waited for Una to recount her own story.

Una bit a corner of her lip with one sharp canine. “I was, ah… able to defeat Nezz, I guess? Not exorcise him or anything like that. It was more as if I… proved my dominance? In a succubus kind of way, I mean.” She gave Susan a nervous grin as the other woman opened her mouth in surprise.

“You fucked an archdemon into submission?” Susan slapped Una on the arm. “Get out! Big leagues now, boss! Don’t tell me the Lord of Control is your servant now?!”

Una shook her head. “Nothing like that. He ran off after he, you know… lost control. Then I… felt you, somehow.” Susan reached out to caress her cheek. “Do you think we have some kind of connection?”

Susan shrugged. “I once wished to sing your praises in your service for eternity, so… maybe?” Una nodded, a small furrow between her brows appearing as she recalled that night, when a terrifying otherworldly visitor had manifested in Susan’s apartment.

She turned back to Susan and found the other woman staring her in the eye. “Tell me,” her assistant said, “Are you still… really you? Even as Una? Or are you more like… Yael?”

Una paused, then nodded slowly, her eyes searching Susan’s face. “I can’t say how much, or why. Yael is part of me now, but it feels as if her presence is dormant. I don’t have her memories, or perhaps they’re buried? I mostly just feel like… me?”

“Like Micki?” Susan asked hopefully.

Una shook her head. “More than Micki, I think.” She stretched out her hooves, and her tail coiled around one leg. “I feel more natural like this. Although I don’t know how I’m supposed to move around the mortal world now.” Susan watched as the tail swished back and forth. She remembered its touch against her skin: velvety with an amazingly firm grip. She shivered at the thought.

Una noticed her reaction, and her yellow eyes lit up. “Susan… do you feel afraid of me?”

The occultist shook her head, gazing up through long eyelashes. “Not afraid. No, I want you… something about you right now is drawing me to you. You’re different… how do you feel?”

Una fixed her with a challenging gaze. “I feel a little different here with you, yeah… like I want to do this.” The demoness grabbed Susan’s hips and flipped her onto the bed, crawling over her as the human woman squealed in delight. Micki had never been quite this aggressive.

They kissed, Una pressing her heavy breasts into Susan’s chest and straddling the other woman’s hips. Her thighs tightened around Susan’s waist as she rocked her body up and down Susan’s torso. Her tits, Susan thought with a flutter of lust. Those perfect red tits.

She reached up to take one of Una’s dark nipples between her fingers, watching it swell and stiffen, growing hard and standing up at attention. Una hissed with pleasure as Susan ran her finger along the succubus’s nipple, then brought it to her lips and licked the tip. She slid her tongue around the sensitive tip, and Una sighed.

Una pulled the baggy black t-shirt off her lover’s body, tossing it to the side and revealing Susan’s own lush, pale breasts, shaped like heavy teardrops. Susan gasped and pressed her pelvis upward against Una’s groin, feeling the warm wetness growing in her underwear. She needed to be closer to this body, this heat, now that her mistress had arrived. For a moment, Susan thought of Cassandra, sleeping in the other room, and felt a twinge of regret and guilt. Then the concern washed away. Susan had many partners, but only one was a succubus.

Una’s tail slid across Susan’s chest, winding its way up towards her neck. Susan saw the tip twitching in excitement and wrapped her fingers around it, running her nails along the sensitive, hairless skin. She smiled as the tail squirmed in her grasp.

“Hey…” the human woman gasped. “Is it just me, or is something glowing green inside your tail?” The couple paused their movements against each other to peer at the faint, pulsing light beneath the skin of the tail. The green aura flickered and faded like a flame, then grew stronger, then weaker again.

“Oh…” breathed Una. “It’s still doing that. I don’t know how to say this, but… I think that’s Nezz’s semen. My tail kind of soaked it up, afterwards. It felt like my body was… metabolizing it, or something?”

Susan reached for her glasses and put them on, peering at the tail-tip. She looked almost as if she wanted to take notes, despite being mostly naked and entwined with Una. “Demon seed… or demon nectar, some sources call it? It’s supposed to be a powerful substance… although that reputation might have to do with how hard it is to get. I’ve read nothing about a succubus absorbing nectar through her tail, though!”

As if in response to Susan’s curiosity, the tip of Una’s tail moved on its own once more, shifting restlessly and flexing. A single drop of green, viscous fluid appeared atop it, emerging from the smooth surface like a droplet of sweat. Una watched in rapt fascination as the tiny drop grew slightly larger, still only a large tear—and then burst. A green, translucent fluid seeped forth; it seemed to pulse with a life of its own. Within seconds, the substance coated the entire tail.

Susan’s heart beat wildly in her chest. “Can… Can I…?” she asked, almost gasping for breath as her mouth opened. She grasped the tail reverentially in one hand and lifted it towards her lips. Una stared in surprise; Susan’s eyes gleamed with golden flecks of light.

Una shifted her hips restlessly. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean… my body wants you to. But I don’t know what that means…!”

Susan’s look was imploring. “I must know. Please, mistress.”

Una nodded slowly, a gleam in her eye. Susan’s expression of naked hunger, and the plea to her mistress, sent a thrill through the succubus’s body. A prickling sensation spread across her skin, and heat between her legs. Her tail tip touched Susan’s lips, and the human woman’s tongue reached out to caress the quivering appendage.

Una felt her tail thrum with pleasure. Susan sucked on the tip, and Una shuddered as a deep ache started up between her thighs.

To Susan, her lover’s tail tasted strange but pleasant: an amalgam of honey, soil, and rich, sweet meat. The powerful, sexual flavor made her mouth water and her head swim. As she licked it, she noticed her tongue moving of its own accord. She heard Una gasp as her own vision filled with pulsing green light and then darkness.

It was as if Susan lay in bed while hearing her mother’s voice calling her to wake up; she was still conscious but felt far away. She could tell she had stopped moving, Una’s tail still gripped in both hands.

“Susan? What happened? Did I hurt you?” She heard Una’s voice echoing in the darkness, and then her own voice respond on its own.

“I’m fine, mistress. You didn’t hurt me, don’t worry.” Una stared at Susan; her lover’s soft brown eyes were staring at her with a distant expression and a glassy sheen, her long black hair slightly disheveled.

“Susan…” Una said slowly. “What do you want to do right now?”

Susan’s expression didn’t change. “Whatever you wish, mistress, whatever you desire.”

Una blinked. “So… if I asked you to swear at me like a biker who just had a beer poured over his head…?”

Now Susan’s face twisted into a mask of rage. “Fuck you, bitch! Who the hell do you think you’re fucking with? I’ll fucking stab you right here.” Her eyes flared, and she balled her hand into a fist.

Una’s jaw dropped; the scholar’s demeanor had shifted from warm and pliant to intense and combative in an instant.

“That’s enough!” she chirped, and Susan’s face relaxed. “Are you… hypnotized or something? By Nezz’s nectar?”

Susan shook her head. “I am awake, but entirely under your control, mistress. I suppose it must be the nectar—Nezz is the archdemon of control, according to legend.”

Una looked perturbed, but her breath quickened. “Can you act normal for a second? I don’t want you to stay like this if you don’t want to!”

Susan blinked, as if startled out of a daze. “Hmm? Is this better, Una? Sorry if I was acting weird a second ago.”

Una put her head in her hands and laughed with relief. “Yes, thank you. I’m glad that didn’t last long.”

The human woman tilted her head to look at the succubus. “Oh, don’t get me wrong… I’m still fully under your control. You just asked me to act normal.”

Una stared at her. “But… are you okay in there?”

Susan tapped her lower lip with one finger, almost an eerie simulacrum of her usual habits. “I can tell you how I’d feel if I wasn’t helplessly under your control. Would that help?”

Una nodded, feeling a pang of worry. Nothing in her experience could have prepared her for this, especially after the way Spencer and Nezz had treated her.

Susan took one of Una’s wine-red hands in her own. “You know me, mistress. I’m kinky as heck, and I get off on power exchange, on giving you power over me. That’s what I’m built for.” The demoness felt a surge of arousal as Susan spoke, the words pouring into her like a sweet, dark liquor. “So I’d lick that tail all over again, just to give you the reins.”

Una shifted her weight; a flush of heat rose from her core, and her breath quickened. “Mmm… And if I told you to do more?”

“I will do more,” said Susan with a serious look. “Whatever you command me to.”

Una swallowed and leaned closer, whispering: “Kiss me, then.” Susan pulled Una towards her with both hands, and their lips met. Their tongues intertwined as the succubus straddled the human’s hips once more, the damp warmth between her legs rubbing against Susan’s pelvis.

“Lower,” she murmured, and Susan moved her lips down to Una’s neck, kissing along the vein beneath her soft skin. “Lick me,” she ordered, “Lick my breasts.” The human obliged, lavishing attention on each of Una’s heavy globes.

“Worship me,” the succubus gasped. “With your mouth.” Susan slid further, kissing down Una’s torso and reaching the delicate tracery of lace-like hair trailing down her lower abdomen. The demoness trembled as she felt Susan’s warm breath against her nether region. “Please, I need it…”

“What do you need, mistress? You have but to tell me.” Susan’s voice emerged muffled by the soft red flesh of Una’s pussy. Her tongue lapped at the succubus’s slit as the demon moaned with pleasure.

Una grabbed Susan’s hair and forced her to press her lips against Una’s wetness. “I need you to fuck me, human,” she cried out.

Susan’s body surged with energy, and she drove her tongue into Una, feeling the other woman’s powerful thighs tremble around her head. She fucked Una’s pussy with her tongue, driving deep inside her, feeling the succubus’s juices flowing like a flood from her core. Una bucked her hips against Susan’s mouth, moaning with pleasure as Susan licked at the deepest part of her body.

“Don’t stop,” Una groaned. Susan obeyed, slithering her tongue through Una’s folds. “Mmm, more, deeper.” The demoness’s eyes were glowing yellow, and the smell of her was intoxicating: a mixture of spice and animal musk, of earth and wildflowers, of rich, ripe berries shot through with shards of metal.

Now Susan had her fingers inside Una’s cunt as well, using two of them to stroke her clit while her tongue worked at the succubus’s slit. “Ahh! Yes!” cried Una.

It was at that moment that Susan’s mother simultaneously knocked on the door and pushed it open.

“Susan, honey?” said Carol Miller. “I heard something and—" The older woman gaped at the scene in front of her. Her daughter was on her knees, wearing nothing but a thin pair of bikini bottoms, her head between the thighs of a strange girl: a lithe young woman with black hair and a voluptuous figure, who was gripping Susan’s hair. The woman had skin the color of thickened blood, a long tail with a bulbous tip, and curved horns that jutted from her forehead. Susan’s glasses lay on the floor; her eyes were wide as she looked up at her mother.

Susan tried to say something, even as she kept lapping at Una’s pussy. The succubus’ eyes rolled back in her head.

“Oh God, Mommy,” stammered Susan, her mouth full of demon cunt. “This is Mistress Una.”

Mistress Una waved awkwardly. Carol Miller screamed.