Succubated!

Susan stared at the director of the Office of Supernatural Affairs. This woman’s agency exercised influence over policy and legislation related to anything supernatural. With a phone call, she could probably affect laws about prohibited uses of magic, or make life living hell for a particular class of paranormal entity. From the rumors Susan had heard, Victoria Lombardi had access to a library of arcane lore that was probably equal to the Vatican’s, a confiscated stash of magical artifacts, and a veritable army of agents with a wide range of skills.

There’s no sense in evading, Susan thought. Her intel’s obviously too good.

“I understand what you’re asking,” Susan said. “You want to watch my body heal itself. What if I gave you a detailed description of the process? I’ve witnessed it more than once...”

Victoria’s lips curled upwards, and she leaned forward, her expression still pleasant. Susan’s glance darted towards the letter opener, and then back at Victoria’s eyes. Damn, she smells like a warm spring breeze.

“That would certainly help,” said the director. “I haven’t heard about it in... great detail. But I’d like to see it in action.”

Susan took a deep breath, and her thoughts flashed back to the night months before when she’d asked Una to transform her. I got myself into this, and I have to find a way out... or through.

“Are you clear on what you’re asking, Director Lombardi? Every time my... power activates, it changes me a little more. I can’t predict what the effect will be. It’s a lot to ask.”

Lombardi’s smile didn’t waver, but her eyes grew more intense. “First, I asked you to call me Vicky. I’m not the kind of leader who makes a request like that without meaning it.”

Susan nodded silently, so the director continued. “Nor would I ask you to cut into your own flesh without understanding the risks. That’s part of what I’d like to know, Susan: how do you approach risk? From your recent history, I think you’re a woman who’s willing to experiment with the unknown, to gamble in pursuit of knowledge. That could be... valuable to me.”

Susan’s face felt hot, and she knew she was blushing. Victoria went on, “Based on the information we’ve received, your condition seems to respond most strongly to threats. So here’s my gamble: whatever lies within you won’t perceive this act as a threat.”

Susan’s thoughts raced again. How does she know so much, so quickly? There’s only one possibility... someone’s been talking. Gail, she thought. That gossipy little...

She exhaled slowly. “I’ll do it.” Susan reached for the knife, her fingers trembling slightly as she wrapped them around its ivory handle.

“One moment, Susan.” Victoria Lombardi tapped the screen of her phone, and a few moments later Gabriella stepped into the room. She set a tray next to Susan: a carafe of water, a small basin, and a washcloth.

“I’m asking you to take a risk, but I don’t see any reason to take chances with the furniture.” The director’s smile had a faintly apologetic air. Susan nodded and lifted the knife. Gabriella’s heels clicked on the hardwood floor as she retreated to the corner of the room. Across from her, Victoria folded her arms and leaned back, watching closely.

Susan pushed up the sleeve of her jacket and shirt, exposing her left arm. The skin was pale, and she was briefly aware of the mole on her forearm, the faint hairs. She could feel her pulse pounding; on the surface of the narrow blade, she caught a ghostly glimpse of her own eyes, huge and staring.

“Antique Damascene steel,” she heard herself saying with clinical detachment. “Probably a ritual blade, since the tang is unusually slender, and it’s slightly curved...” She tried to swallow; her mouth was too dry to form words. “I’d guess late fifteenth century. The craftsmanship is exquisite.”

She forced her voice to stay even. “It’s not properly sterile, but it’s clean at least... so no infections to worry about.” She inhaled again. This is the price of admission, she told herself. To even have a conversation. I don’t know what Lombardi wants with me, not exactly... but it’s got to be more than an archivist position.

“Please, go ahead,” Victoria said. “Gabriella and I are right here if anything goes wrong.” Susan looked up and into the director’s eyes, finding an unexpected softness there. It helped steady her hand, and she lowered the knife to her skin, holding her arm above the basin.

The tip slid in easily, parting the surface of Susan’s arm, and she flinched at the pain. Intense, she thought. Keep going... for her. For Una. The unexpected thought of her demonic lover made her shudder, but not with fear. Her arousal surged again, and she felt a rush of warmth between her legs. She drew the edge of the knife through her flesh, slicing into the vein and opening her arm to Victoria’s watchful gaze.

Blood spilled into the basin, bright red. Susan let the knife fall, and it clattered against the porcelain. The pain intensified, and her breaths grew shallow. Her heart pounded in her ears, and her vision blurred. Then she felt it begin: the mingled sensation of euphoria and numbness that marked the onset of regeneration. Her veins filled with golden light, spreading downward from her shoulder. It felt as if cool water were trickling beneath her skin, easing the burning of the wound.

She blinked, and a tear slipped down her cheek. I want to watch this too. I need to understand what’s inside of me. From the clean edges of her bleeding wound, glowing tendrils of gold crept, reaching across the broken surface of her arm and weaving themselves together. More tendrils followed the stream of blood into the basin, wrapping around the droplets and pulling them back towards the severed vein.

Susan gasped, the feeling of her body knitting itself back together, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her nerves. Her eyes shut for a moment, and when she opened them, the world was gold and glittering. She thought she could see stars in the room’s ceiling and hear music from somewhere far away.

Her blood had returned to her vessels now, leaving only a few scattered droplets that had fallen far from the source. A few threads of gold still crept across the skin of her forearm, following the path of her veins, but as she watched, they sank below the skin’s surface and vanished. Her arm was smooth and whole, the skin as pale as ever. Even the mole she’d sliced through was back in place.

Susan released a long breath, then started as she realized Gabriella stood right next to her, bandages and ointments in hand. Seeing that first aid was unnecessary, she poured Susan a glass of water instead. Susan drank gratefully, her emotions a whirl. She still felt intensely aroused, and very much aware of the proximity of the two striking women who watched her every move.

Across from her, Victoria Lombardi clasped her hands and leaned forward, her expression a mixture of amazement and calculation. “That was... more impressive than descriptions led me to believe. And those descriptions were quite remarkable to begin with. But I think you know that, as you were the first-hand source.”

Susan nodded, thinking about Gail again. “I take it you have some use for a researcher who can magically regenerate any physical injury?”

Victoria’s mouth quirked up in a lopsided smile. “You’re a lot more than that, Susan Sunghi Miller. And I’ll tell you what I’m looking for, but I have some questions first. You believe these powers result from implantation by an angel?”

Susan nodded, mustering as much nonchalance as she could. It wasn’t much—her skin was still flushed and tingling, and she wanted to squeeze her thighs together to find some relief from the ache in her core.

“Yes. It manifested in my apartment.” I won’t say under what circumstances, she thought. Let them snoop if they want to know more about my girlfriend. “My research supports my intuition, although there’s no real precedent. But I think you know that already; your detection hardware downstairs read me as Code Aurum? As in golden?”

Victoria nodded, and Gabriella stepped forward to clean up the table. “You’re the only one to register that so far, but according to our data, it’s angelic. Can you describe the effects of this energy on your mind, please?”

Susan shrugged. “I’ve experienced... lacunae, I guess, is the word I’d used for them.” Seeing Victoria’s puzzled expression, she continued. “I stop... being myself for a little while. Something else speaks through me, as if I’m just a megaphone into this world. And I have the sensation of knowing something, of hearing many voices—and visions. But when I come back to myself, it all rushes out of me like water down a drain.”

The director nodded, taking notes. “Have you taken action while in this state? Or only delivered messages?”

Susan thought for a moment. “From what others have said, I’ve definitely issued warnings. Adjurations, you might call them. And at least one person hearing me seemed to think my words had... force of law?”

Victoria tapped her pen on her notebook. “Hm. That fits our own observations, yes.”

Susan blinked, wanting to ask for details. The director clearly read her expression; she closed her notebook and gave Susan a frank smile.

“Brass tacks, then. Let me lay this out, and you tell me if I’m wrong. You don’t want the angel seed within you to take over your brain, so you want access to all our resources to research and experiment with your condition. Besides that, you also have some... associates who’d benefit from further investigation. Finally, you just love knowing more, don’t you? Did I get all that right?”

Under Victoria’s gaze, Susan felt stripped bare and seen for the hungry intellect she was. I can’t lie, she thought. There’s too much riding on this. She tried to find something to do with her hands, finally settling on playing with the sleeves of her jacket. In her veins, could still feel the warm pulsing of the blood, a reminder of the surge of life that had risen from within.

“That’s... an excellent summary,” she replied, biting her lip. “Although I didn’t mention it before, I’ve always dreamed of working here. This would be a dream job for me.”

The director nodded. “Good. I want people who reach for what they desire. Now, let me tell you what I want.” As if moved by an impulse, Victoria reached across the table and took Susan’s hand. Her grip was warm, reassuring.

“Susan, we have plenty of researchers and librarians. People who specialize in containment of artifacts, scholars who have far more years of experience than you in locating and cross-referencing occult works.” Susan frowned, but Victoria favored her with a gentle smile. “What do you think all those people have in common?”

Susan raised an eyebrow. “They’re... smart? Well-read?”

Victoria rolled her eyes. “Sure, whatever. Besides that, they like to stay inside.” When Susan didn’t respond, she continued. “Not literally. We have a marine biologist and an arborist. What I mean is that they prefer reading and writing, laboratory research or being left to their experiments. Many are theoreticians, and the applied-science types are also reluctant to get their hands dirty.”

The inlaid mahogany chair Victoria sat in creaked as she leaned back, tipping it up on its rear legs. “Some of that is introversion, and some of it is fear. The more an intelligent person knows about the supernatural, particularly demonic forces and magic—or worse still, Class O and R memetic entities—the less they usually want to deal with any of it directly.”

Victoria brought her chair back down on all fours with a thud and leaned forward across the table. “But you, Susan? You seem like you thrive on dealing with these things. Not just because you can have your throat slashed by a fugitive sorceress, but because you need to be in the thick of it. You forged a relationship with an ancient demon and her host. You located and breached that control freak Thomas Spencer’s heinous playground and brought the survivors of his experiments out.”

Susan drew in a breath sharply. This is a lot. I want to trust her; can’t expose Una too much. “If you know all that, then you know I didn’t accomplish it on my own.”

“Oh, I’m not minimizing the importance of your friends. Quite the opposite; they’re also forces in their own right.” For a moment, Victoria looked as if she might elaborate, then closed her sculpted lips. “As I see it, Susan, you’re the mastermind among them—the one who’s been pushing this project from the start. That’s why I want to offer you a job. Not just as an archivist.”

Susan looked up sharply, meeting Victoria’s eyes. The director’s expression was calm and serious. “I’d like you to work directly for me as a special agent. Research permissions and access to archives, but you’ll still need my sign-off for anything really dangerous. I can’t spare you a lab of your own, but you can get to know the other staff and you’d have enough clearance to poke around and borrow lab time. However, I mostly need you in the field.”

Victoria Lombardi shuffled the folders in front of her and pulled one out. “All of my most valuable experience came from direct encounters with reality, and there’s always something that needs doing. Ah, here it is.”

She laid a green file folder on top of the stack. “If you’re ready to take the job, this is your first assignment. An artifact retrieval we really need to take care of, but in the hands of a couple of college kids who’re mostly harmless. Just don’t want the little toy they found making its way to anyone less harmless.”

Susan stared at the folder, her mind ablaze with curiosity and suspicion. A label at the side had a cryptic sequence of letters and numbers, but someone had stuck a note on top with the initials “B.o.D.”

If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is. But “government agent tracking down dangerous items and creatures” probably wouldn’t sound good to most people? Now she felt a distinct sensation thrumming through her, bringing her nipples to attention and causing her thighs to tense. Danger, power, and knowledge—all wrapped in a delicious, classified package.

Victoria drummed her fingers, glanced over Susan’s shoulder at Gabriella, and nodded. “I have a phone call with, ugh, elected officials.” She waved her hand dismissively. “If you stick around, I’ll be free in thirty minutes. I imagine you have questions.”

Susan nodded. “Approximately one million questions. But for now, just one... can you tell me where the bathroom is?”

***

Gabriella led Susan to a small lounge, with a door at one end leading to a unisex bathroom. “I’ll be around the corner at the front desk,” she said, giving Susan a cheeky wink. Susan smiled wanly and closed the door, relieved to be alone. She dropped her bag, kicked off her heels, and sat directly on the immaculate tile floor, hitching her skirt up around her waist.

Susan hesitated for a moment, then gave into the urge that had been building for hours. She plunged her right hand into her panties, gasping as she touched the sensitive folds of her vulva. They felt swollen and slick, and she shivered as she swirled her fingertips up and down her slit, teasing her own wetness out of her.

It’s all too much, she thought. I shouldn’t have spent the morning taping electrodes to hot, flirty succubae. How was I supposed to know that my government interview would be with two impossibly beautiful women?

She pictured Victoria Lombardi’s face, her large dark eyes, sensual lips, and perfectly shaped eyebrows. “You seem like you thrive on dealing with these things, Susan.” The image made her shudder, and she found her clitoris with her index finger, drawing small circles around it with her fingertip. God help me, I’m such a sucker for powerful women, especially when they call me out and recognize me...

As a teenager, Susan had thought of herself as a nymphomaniac, more because her adoptive mother had used that term than anything else. She’d realized later that Carol was just sheltered, repressed, and Catholic—afraid that she’d brought home a deviant, corrupted child from a shattered family. Susan couldn’t deny her voracious libido, but she’d also grown to embrace her curiosity. Her sexual fantasies and explorations had become an endless source of fascination, even as she’d explored her deeper desires—for men and women alike.

Now she was grown, and understood a great deal more about the mechanics of her body and her desires. She slid two fingers inside her vulva, pressing them deeply, imagining them as Victoria’s, or Gabriella’s. She hadn’t even talked to Gabriella for more than a minute, but she had an unmistakable aura of confidence and self-assurance.

Susan shifted her hips, thinking back to how Cassandra had touched her, with fingers rough and practiced, bringing her to climax over and over. She thought of John Hayes’ impressive cock, and Una’s slippery tail and claws.

Cassandra... John... and Una. The thought of Una’s gentle, yielding body and her smoldering, wicked eyes sent a shock of lust through Susan. Her hand sped up, moving rapidly in time with the frantic pace of her thoughts. I want to cum, she thought. Make this good, let it last me hours...

In her mind’s eye she pictured Gabriella, holding Susan’s hands above her head as Victoria teased her exposed breasts, squeezing the pale flesh, flicking the dark nipples with her tongue. Everyone she knew, using her: Una’s tail coiling around her waist, Maria’s thighs around her face, and Cassandra sliding a thick silicone toy into her pussy. She curled her fingers, seeking her G-spot, and remembered how she’d felt when the bizarre, silent angel’s seed slid down her throat, nestling itself in her soul.

Susan’s hips thrashed and bucked between her questing hand and the cool tiles of the bathroom floor. Her vision blurred, and her eyes grew wide, staring into nothing. In her ears, she heard a distant humming, and her own breath rasping as she fought for air. The feeling of pleasure was everywhere, inside and outside her, as if she was an antenna picking up signals from the void. She felt the orgasm begin in a wave of energy through her body, but she kept rubbing, the movements of her hand almost unconscious.

Through the darkness, she felt a rustle of great wings passing and beheld the face of her mistress. At her shoulders, her mind’s eye perceived an endless tangle of golden cords; they pulled her away in no direction at all, separating her from the succubus. But then Una’s luscious crimson lips formed a single word, her eyes full of love and understanding.

“Cum.”

Susan let out a strangled cry as the pleasure of release wracked her. She felt her muscles tense from her center outwards, and then release in waves while her hips twisted and shuddered. Her juices thoroughly coated her fingers, and she slid her hand out, splaying it on the floor, her palm and fingers leaving a glistening trail.

For long minutes Susan remained on the floor, her chest rising and falling with each desperate gasp. She felt the blissful weight of afterglow settle over her, her thoughts sinking to rest, still as an ocean after a storm. Eventually she rose, wiped herself and the floor clean with a generous quantity of paper towels, and looked at her reflection.

Her eyes were undimmed, full of the clarity that she often experienced after an orgasm. Susan saw her own smile in the mirror, and the blush on her cheeks, and tried to analyze what she was feeling. Relief, excitement, suspicion of Victoria’s motives... all that, but something else. Susan looked at herself for a long time, turning her face from side to side.

What is that look in my eye? Determination? Resignation? Then it came to her: something about her expression reminded her of Micki, in the moments she’d first embraced her changing destiny. Am I on the same kind of cusp? Becoming something new, but taking control of the change for myself?

Susan shook her head and adjusted her hair and clothing. Time for that later. First... I need more information about this job.