"That’s a fine looking pussy... cat!" rang out from the steps as she passed.

Umbra kept her eyes forward, the narrow heels of her shoes clicking loudly on the pavement as she picked up her pace. A small knot of men she’d never seen in this neighborhood before laughed from the stoop where they lounged about drinking something from a paper bag. Kissing noises, cries of "Damn!" and "Your ass is so fine, baby!" chased after her like hyenas. A shiver ran through her as she heard footsteps start to follow behind her. Her throat tightened, and her skirt flattened against her legs as she lengthened her stride.

She was petite with an athletic build, fair skin, sandy blonde hair, and huge round eyes just one step away from panic. She wore a light summer dress with a tight bodice, pleated skirt, and a bright, floral print. It seemed wildly out of place with the ominous turn things had taken. Despite the heat of the setting sun, she was suddenly chilled to her core and pulled her gauzy scarf closer around her shoulders. Hearing the men starting to overtake her, she struggled to keep her composure and thought: “Just a few more blocks, and I’ll be home!”

"Hey baby! Those legs are so fine... Lift up your skirt so we can see the rest!"

She could hear them getting closer, but there was no way she could move any faster in these shoes. Even worse, with straps buckled around the ankle, she couldn't just kick them off and run, either.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no..." she thought in desperate panic as the men caught up to her and surrounded her. Her mouth twisted into a frightened grimace. Trying to steady her voice, she quavered "Leave me alone!" Far from the angry command she was aiming for, it sounded more like a frightened squeak. She tried to push through them. No such luck. The one in front shoved her backward, and she toppled into another man behind who caught her. He stank of booze, cigarette smoke, greasy food, and body odor. He shoved her forward into another one of the gang, who grabbed her upper arms with bruising strength.

"Stop! Please!" she begged, unable to hold the tears back. She struggled to free herself, but he was much too strong for her.

"Come on, bring her over here!" someone yelled, and she felt herself being forced backward out of the light into an alleyway lined with parked cars, trash cans, and dumpsters.

Still struggling, she felt something hard touch the back of her legs. A hand grabbed her throat and thrust her backward. A resonant bong reverberated from the hood of the car as her head slammed into it, and she was momentarily stunned. By the time her vision cleared, she was lying flat on her back with a switchblade gleaming directly in front of her face.

"Don't move little bitch. Don't scream. Don't even breath. Me and my friends are going to get what we want, or you're going to get this. Got it?" The hand squeezed, and cut off her breath until she bobbed her head with tears leaking down her face.

Rough hands groped her body in a horrible mockery of intimacy. She trembled uncontrollably as she felt the point of the blade dig ever so gently into the skin under her eye and trace a teasing line across her face and under her chin. The hand choking her moved downward to grab the neckline of her dress while the point followed slowly along her skin.

Laughter rang out, and the roaming hands clamped down on her shoulders, hips, and knees. "Do it!" squealed a high-pitched voice, "Let's see what kind of panties she has!" A ripping sound was followed by a flood of cold air across her bare chest, stomach, and thighs. She whimpered piteously as the rough hands tore what was left of her dress away. Her bare skin crawled to feel their hands callously exploring the sensitive flesh still covered by her underwear.

"Nice! A matched set! But, does the carpet match the drapes?" someone said with a nasty laugh. A hand slipped under the waistband of her panties, and she desperately thought of the demonic form she ought to have. As a succubus, she should be able to transform into a powerful demon, but she was so inexperienced that she’d never actually managed it. Trying to push down her panic, she attempted to clear her thoughts and will herself to change. Like her all her previous attempts: nothing happened.

Her concentration was shattered as cold steel slipped under her panties and touched her labia. She panicked. She couldn't help but try to squirm away as she started to scream. The stench of cigarettes filled her nostrils as a meaty hand clamped down over her mouth, and a hot sting traced a line across her pubic bone.

"See little bitch?" asked the man with the knife. "That's what happens when you struggle. Stay still, or you get it on purpose next time." Something hard smashed into the side of her head, and her vision momentarily went dark. She could feel a trickle of blood ooze across her cheek. Cruel chuckles surrounded her as she went limp again. The hand returned to crush her head back into the hood with excruciating pressure. Her heart ached in terror as she stared into the darkness above: no longer able to even see what they were about to do to her.

A chorus of sly giggles accompanied the ominous sound of a zipper and the jingle of a belt buckle. The man with the knife said: "Lift up her legs. I'm gunna get me some of that juicy pussy!"

At that instant, a primal shriek rang out from somewhere high above them, echoing down the alleyway. It might have been a hawk, but nothing so small, so innocent, and so natural could have made that sound. It was the kind of sound that makes man—the apex predator among apex predators—feel what it is to be prey for the first time in his life. Terrified cries of "Holy Shit!", "Dios!", and "Yo! What the fuck!" echoed through the alleyway.

Umbra sobbed with joy and relief.

The gang leader spun around looking for the source of that unholy sound. His knife flashed in the glare of the light above them, but now that it was fully dark, he couldn't see anything outside of its narrow cone. His hands shook as he looked wildly about. The shriek sounded again, and his glance flashed upward in time to see the silhouette of huge wings before something massive dropped to the ground on top of one of his men. There was a wet, crunching pop as something broke inside the man and he collapsed.

The figure landed facing away from gang leader. She had a passing resemblance to a tall, burly woman, but there was no way one could mistake that creature for human. Her naked body was covered with dark reddish skin which darkened to black at her hands and feet. Enormous bat's wings grew out of her upper back, hiding the rest of his gang from view. Muscle rippled through her calfs, thighs, and ass as she tore into men in front of her.

He'd only just taken in what was going on before the rest of his boys were lying in crumpled heaps on the ground. As he watched in horrified amazement, she turned toward him. The knife clattered to the ground and a wet stain ran down his leg. Her figure was that of an Amazon, but her face burned with demonic fury. Full round breasts swayed with her motion, and a crisply-defined six-pack ended in a tangled mat of coarse, black hair. Arms much thicker than his own ended in claw-like hands. Even with the promise of mutilation and death mere moments away, he couldn't do more than just stare: balanced between lust and terror. A snarl, the flash of a fist, and darkness swallowed him before he could tear his glance away.

He awoke laying flat on his stomach bent over some kind of low table: naked. His hands were stretched out at right angles and manacled down. His knees ached from contact with the hard floor, and his feet, too, were manacled. His mouth was filled with a large rubber ball gag, and his neck was twisted up so he faced forward: his chin just at the edge of the table. It was pitch black.

He squealed around the gag in alarm and tried to yank himself free. The steel manacles dug painfully into his limbs without budging. After a few moments of panic, he started to whimper and sob. With a soft hiss, a flickering light ignited somewhere behind him.

He was staring directly a pair of crossed legs encased in smokey black stockings. They were held in place with garter straps connected to a sapphire corset. The flesh bulged alluringly at the tops of the stockings, matching her wide hips. Her breasts poured over the top of the corset with deeply tanned skin and more than a hint of dark areolae. The narrow face—framed by straight, black hair—carried obvious South American heritage. The only part of her voluptuous body which wasn't exquisitely inviting was the flinty expression on her face.

She waved his wallet in front of his face. "Hello, Mr. Rodriguez," she said in cultured Spanish. "You seem to have some trouble with the concept of consent. You are now going to receive a few lessons which should make it clear why it is so very important."

His eyes got even wider as she slowly uncrossed her legs to reveal a cleanly shaven pussy with a sparkling piercing in the hood of her prominent clit. She slid down in her chair so that her lips spread open wide, only inches from his face. He could no longer see anything else. A delicate hand slid into view, and dipped two fingers into her vagina. They reappeared and began to gently roll her clit back and forth, making the piercing dance and sparkle. The tangy smell of her arousal saturated his senses. Despite the fear roiling in his belly, he could feel his cock straining in a metal cage tightly clamped around his cock and balls.

"Here is your first lesson. You now have a choice. You can either spend the night here with me... doing whatever I like... or I turn you over—exactly as you are—to the police." At this point, she spread open her labia for a moment, giving him a clear view of the pink flesh inside, before dipping her fingers into her pussy again and continuing to stroke her clit. "Would you like to stay?"

He nodded enthusiastically.

A whistling crack broke the air behind him, and a sharp pain tore across his exposed ass cheeks. He squealed and pulled even more violently as several more strokes landed, flaying burning lines into his flesh. The woman in front of him waved a hand, and the whipping stopped.

"That was your second lesson. Ordinarily, consent can be withdrawn at any time. Unfortunately for you, your vile actions earlier this evening mean you have forfeited that right until dawn. I own your body until sunrise."

Unseen hands removed the gag as she slid forward the final few inches so that her pussy nearly smothered him. He began to lick in a half-hearted way until, at a gesture from his mistress, a smart crack landed across his ass. He began licking with much greater vigor. She closed her eyes, and seemed to be half asleep. Any time his licking flagged even for a moment, one finger raised the tiniest amount, and another painful lash landed on his stinging backside.

Arousing herself from her doze, she said: "You're completely hopeless. Let’s see if you can pleasure my friend instead." With that, she got up and walked out of sight. A door opened and closed. He lay there in increasing anxiety as the minutes ticked by. He shifted painfully in his bonds. After a while, he started to try to pull a hand free and was rewarded with a stinging smack across the knuckles with a hard length of cane. He was still after that.

His anxiety had almost drained off through inactivity when he heard a door open behind him. A deep, male voice chuckled and said: "Well, doesn't that look like fun?" His anxiety spiked back to panic as he struggled with his bonds, provoking another painful smack from the cane. He felt something cold, wet, and slippery drip onto his crack followed by a hard push against his asshole. After a painful stretch, he felt something smooth and fat lodge in place. The stretching stung, but eventually started to subside. Other hands shoved another gag in his mouth which forced his jaws open. Feeling that it had a hole through the center of it, he started to weep and sob as he anticipated what was to come.

Eyes squeezed shut in despair, he felt, rather than saw, the cock enter his mouth through the opening in the gag. He barely heard the satisfied sigh above him over the wet sounds of the cock sliding in and out of his own mouth. He wretched repeatedly as the cock delved deeper and deeper. Finally, the cock thrust in so deep that he couldn't breathe. It paused there while his throat and neck convulsed around it. His need to breath deepened into desperation and then into panic. When the cock finally withdrew, mucus flowed freely from his mouth, nose, and eyes as he gasped and choked.

Unable to clear his vision, he could only hear with horror that the man's footsteps were moving around the table behind him. He howled unintelligible noises through the gag and struggled vainly to free himself, ignoring the smart smacks from the cane which resulted. He was almost too preoccupied to notice the stretch and relief in his backside, following by the cool drip of more lube. Moments later, something both soft and rigid pressed against his pulsing hole. Without resistance, it slid deep into his ass.

Hours passed. Unseen hands moved him and trussed him in various positions as an endless progression of people of all genders used him. Close to dawn, he found himself spread-eagle on the table, facing upward, his head hanging backward over the edge. He wasn't even bound; he was too exhausted by now to struggle.

His head was locked between the thighs of a woman who ground her dripping pussy across his face. As her urgency increased, her pace quickened until she spasmed and a gush of liquid filled his eyes, nose, and mouth. He coughed and spluttered while she got up and left the room.

Shortly before sunrise, Umbra stood outside the door of her would-be rapist's dungeon looking at a small key in her hand like it was a scorpion poised to strike. She’d been staring at it all night. The door opened and Sulphurette stepped out, naked, with her own secretions running down her legs. Her expression softened when she saw Umbra. Grasping her shoulder, she said: "You can do this. You're stronger than him."

Umbra stepped through the door and saw him again for the first time since Sulphurette rescued her. He wasn't even recognizable as the same man. He was covered in sweat, lube, and secretions of every sort. All except his caged little cock, which had been left for her.

Her gut clenched. Despite his obvious helplessness, her earlier terror rose up again at the sight of him. Gritting her teeth, she hardened her expression and thought: "I'm a succubus, a demon, and I'm not afraid of you!" Using the small key in her hand, she unlocked the cage around his cock and dropped it on the ground. Grabbing him in her hand, she stroked him until he was fully erect, and then took him into her mouth. He moaned softly without even lifting his head. With many months of practice, Umbra knew exactly how to get what she wanted. His cock twitched and strained under her lashing tongue.

She could feel her pussy flush and swell with her own arousal as she used her other hand to tease her clit through her panties. She tasted the pre-cum as she, herself, felt that she was getting close. She held him off, enjoying his pained whimpers, as she brought herself to the very edge of orgasm. Finally, she attacked him with vigor so that spurts of cum splashed into her mouth just as she tipped into pulsing contractions of pleasure. Unconcerned (finally!) with the "client," she exerted the full measure of her power—strengthened by her own orgasm—to drain everything she could get from him.

A surge of mingled power and pleasure flooded through her as she swallowed one mouthful after another. Her mortal form tingled with vigor as her young spirit wove itself ever more tightly into the mortal shell she had been provided. In the joining, she could feel the intricate twining of spirit and body, and her control of her own abilities multiply. So too, grew the curse of the succubus. Her horns tore at the skin of her forehead as they thickened and lengthened. She could feel her wings, too, stretch and become more powerful.

She became lost in the ecstasy of draining the life from her victim. As her power increased, she used it to drain him even further. She didn't notice as his pleasured moaning died away into wheezing gasps. The salt of semen became the tang of blood, and she relished it just the same. Suddenly, strong hands pulled her back by the shoulders. Instinctually, she shrieked like an angry hawk and raised a hand—now tipped with claws—to strike out.

A stern face stared into her eyes without flinching. Lost in the madness of her lust, she only vaguely recognized the person in front of her. Confused, she held her claw motionless, still poised to strike. A few seconds later, the madness left her. Umbra, overcome, clutched Sulphurette and trembled. After a few minutes of quiet petting, Sulphurette gently pushed her back, and smiled proudly at her. “Look”, she said, pointing at a full-length mirror.

Umbra stared in awe.

Her skin had turned crimson except for her belly and throat which were a pale rose. Muscles she’d never dreamed of having rippled as she stepped forward, and her clawed hands clicked on the glass as she touched her reflection. Her hair was longer and had lightened to shimmering strawberry blonde. Sharp, ivory horns peeked out from her hairline. Even her eyes had changed. The pale brown was now glittering orange.

She was a demon.

Epilog

The social worker trudged back to her desk from the mail room with a stack of letters in one hand. Wearily dropping into her seat, she tossed them into her inbox. Grabbing the top one, she slit it open, and pulled out a check attached to a donation form. Her eyes got wide as she read: “Pay to the order of ‘Rape Survivors Counseling Center' $5,000.” It was signed: “J. Rodriguez.”

The man was on the short side, with a muscular stockiness. His hair was straight and a bit unkempt, dark like the bristles on his face and the thick hair peeking out from his collar. He wore a sour expression over his nondescript jacket and jeans. He walked by quickly, and pushed through the doors to the gym.

As the man passed, Noctus turned his attention inward. After half a minute, the incubus was everything his victim would expect to see, and be unable to resist. Gone were the massive horns, wings, cloven feet and every other sign of demon-kind. He was yet again grateful not have the same limitations as a succubus. Transformation complete, he turned to follow the man into the gym.

It had been one of those days. He hadn't slept well because he was worrying about a presentation at work. The presentation didn't go well, and his boss chewed him out over it. Then, the final indignity was that the date he'd just finished had gone badly—as usual. He could just never connect with a woman. Conversation was fine, but there was never any spark. Apparently the girl could sense it too, and she'd tactfully found a way to avoid setting their next date. He could already tell that she never would—again, as usual. So, he did what he always did when he'd had a rotten day: swing by the gym for an extra workout.

After changing, he headed over to the cardio room to warm up. There were rows of all the usual machines, two of each type facing one another. He headed over to his usual treadmill and started jogging. Just as he started to get into his rhythm, another man stepped onto a stair machine in the row in front of him.

He was quite tall and lean. He wasn't overly muscular, but his remarkable leanness meant that every muscle showed as he started his machine and began climbing. He was wearing very short, neon green gym shorts, a pair of sneakers, and a baggy, white muscle shirt with enormous arm holes. His lats and ribs where clearly visible, as were his long legs. He was also quite pale, blonde, and nearly hairless.

Watching him from behind on his treadmill, the man's jogging became somewhat irregular he found himself staring at the regular bunching and release of the tall man's muscles. The ripple of lean muscle in his hamstrings was mesmerizing, and he found his eyes tracing their movements all the way up to the bottoms of those short shorts. Heart pounding despite his gradually meandering pace, he decided he was definitely warmed up enough.

Noctus heard the treadmill stop behind him. Grinning mischievously, he waited until he heard the door of the cardio room open and close, hopped off his machine, and followed.

His quarry had changed into workout clothes, and it was now evident he was built like a short, furry tank with excellent promise of having a very respectable cannon. He was wearing soft cotton shorts just above knee height which stuck to all the right places now that he'd begun to sweat. The same was true of his tee-shirt. Black hair—bordering on fur—covered the visible portion of his arms and legs. He seemed like he was probably just a touch over thirty, and in excellent condition.

As Noctus walked in, he spotted the other man adjusting a leg extension machine which faced into the free weights section. Delighted, Noctus moved over to a squat cage in his line of sight and started doing pull ups, knowing full well it would show of his lats, shoulders, and biceps to best advantage.

Glancing in one of the many mirrors, Noctus could see that he had the furry man's undivided attention.

The weight room was pretty empty that evening, so the man was able to start right in on his usual rotation through the weight machines. Just as he was starting his first set on the leg extension machine, the guy in the neon shorts came in. And, just as luck would have it, he immediately went to the squat rack just in front of him and starting doing pull-ups. The man was a marvel to watch. Despite his slender physique, he was able to do a dozen reps in a quick set before hanging on the bar with his knees bent to rest. He must have been a swimmer; no one else developed perfect wide lats like that.

Abruptly, he realized his quads were burning, and he had no idea how many reps he'd just done. Nearly dropping his stack of weights, he popped out of the machine, and looked around for some other machine on the other side of the room, facing the opposite direction.

However, just as he settled into a bicep curl machine, there was the swish of neon green shorts as the tall man started sliding plates on to the bar of a bench press right in front of him. He couldn't help but stare, tantalized, as the man lay back on the bench thrusting up a tall, neon green hill right in front of him. Even worse, as he un-racked the bar, he shifted down the bench to pull those shorts tight up against his crotch throwing everything underneath into sharp relief.

This time, he did drop the stack with a loud clang. "Sorry!", he threw out to the room at large. He was feeling so flustered and weird. His heart raced, he felt a flush in his cheeks, and there was an undeniable tightness in his briefs. He'd known some handsome men before, but he definitely wasn't into guys. Anyone would have said they were handsome. It was just a fact; it had nothing to do with him, personally. There's just a certain type of tall, muscular, smooth-skinned guy that was just objectively... sexy... no, not... just handsome. Anyone would say so. Nevertheless, he definitely felt like he'd had as much of a workout as he needed for the evening, and he retreated to the locker room.

Noctus barely kept himself from laughing aloud. Hunting was so. much. fun! Wiping down his own and the other man's equipment gave his prey almost enough time to have gotten into the shower. Noctus lounged by the water fountain until the time was just right, and then he returned to the hunt.

Cold water ran over his body in the communal shower room. He was glad to have found it empty as it would have been a little awkward to walk past a bunch of other men in his half-aroused state. Just as he started massaging shampoo into his scalp, he heard the door open, and someone else turn on a shower close to him. With a mix of dread and arousal, he knew exactly who he would see when he washed the shampoo out of his face.

Sure enough. Neon shorts no longer. The tall blonde was standing two shower heads away, glistening with water and soap. He was grateful for the cold water, as he just couldn’t help being aroused by the sight of the other man. This man was the epitome of beauty. Long, straight lines flowed over his frame, broken by the the occasional round form of a bunched muscle as he lathered himself. His smooth skin was perfect with only a fine mist of blonde hairs over his arms and legs, and a slightly darker mass of hair around his cock. This last, even soft, was a thing of beauty. Straight, smooth, well-formed, and laying centered over a pair of perfect egg-shaped balls.

There was absolutely no way to deny himself any longer; he was more aroused and attracted to this man than he had ever been to any woman. There wasn't even a remote comparison. Of course, he had always known, deep down, that he was gay. There had been so many signs. But he just couldn't allow himself to use that word about himself until now.

Abruptly, the angelic man turned to him, holding a bottle upside-down, and said, "Could I borrow some shampoo?" He nearly had a heart attack on the spot.

"Uhhh...", he rasped and stared blankly.

"Uhhh... yeah. Sure," he repeated, and held out his bottle. The other man took a step forward, lost his footing, and collided with him! Without thinking, he caught the tall man in his arms and pulled him close. In that second, something unlocked inside him. The feeling of taut muscles, dormant strength, and being dwarfed in the other man's arms was a thrill unlike anything he'd ever experienced. Despite the absolute newness of it, it felt like coming home. There was a profound feeling of rightness, finally, in being intimate with another person. He pulled the other man in tightly into an embrace, leaning his head against his chest.

Then, with a horrified realization of what he was doing, he came back to himself. He jerked away, and said, "Oh! Hey! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, thanks to you! I can be really clumsy sometimes," the blonde replied, laughing deprecatingly. "You're strong... and quick! I'm amazed I didn't knock you over, too!"

"Well... yeah. I'm just glad I caught you," he murmured, staring down at his feet. At the same time, he thought to himself, "You have no idea how glad!"

Now that his "slip" had managed to make an introduction, Noctus stepped up his flirting to the next level. By the time they had showered, changed back into street clothes (giving his prey a few more good "peeks"), and walked out of the gym together, they were chatting amiably. The smaller man had definitely lost some of his nerves, and was starting to relax. They'd made it to the sidewalk outside the gym, and were chatting like two people who know they have to part, but can't help dragging it out. It was time for Noctus to trap his prey.

"I’m really glad I ran into you! A little embarrassing, but it's not too bad between friends, right? Any chance I could interest you in a post-workout protein smoothie? I've got a great recipe, and I'd be happy to make you one back at my place," he suggested. A bit weak, perhaps, but Noctus was pretty confident about this guy.

There was a nervous pause, which the guy passed off with a confident, "Yeah, that sounds great!". The two headed off back to Noctus' apartment.

They arrived at the apartment, and the man's new friend led the way inside. "Do you still want that protein shake, or shall I get you a real drink?" he offered.

"Sure... make it a gin and tonic."

"Coming right up! Feel free to look around. The bathroom's through that door, if you want to freshen upat all," the blonde said meaningfully as he disappeared into the kitchen. He stepped into the bathroom, only to find that it was equipped with an elaborate bidet with all sorts of attachments for getting verycompletely clean. With some slight trepidation, he took advantage of the facilities. He found the experience somewhat odd at first, but ultimately very refreshing.

Coming out again, he saw that his new friend had placed the drinks on the coffee table, and was sitting on the long sofa waiting for him. He joined him, sitting on the far end and picking up his drink. As they sipped the drinks, they chatted, and he felt himself becoming less and less inhibited. Just as he finished the last of his drink, the other man leaned forward to take the glass.

"Still thirsty?" he asked, leaning closer and closer. He was nearly on top of him. With only the briefest touch of hesitation, he nodded. The tall blonde slowly leaned in all the way, and their lips met. Closing his eyes, he felt the other man sink down onto him, and caress his face as they continued kissing eagerly. Broad, strong hands roamed at will over his body, and kneaded his cock through his shorts. It immediately twitched to life, and expanded as far as his briefs would allow.

Taking his cue from the other man, his own hands started to roam over that statuesque body. His fingertips took in the firm muscles, the broad shoulders, and the hard ass. Standing, the tall blonde pulled his shirt over his head. While he was still buried in his shirt, the other man unbuttoned his pants to free his cock. It was already partly erect, and it could not have been more perfect. Pale skin was traced lightly with dark veins under the surface, and the glans was already half-way peeking out of the foreskin.

“Aren’t you eager?” the tall man asked, discarding his shirt, and shifting closer so his cock was just in front of the other’s mouth. “Care to continue what you started?”, he asked? Unconsciously licking his lips, he reached up to take hold of the rapidly lengthening cock inches from his face, and guided it between his lips. Judging from what he knew he liked when the roles were reversed, he sucked gently, sliding his head slowly up and down the shaft while stroking from the root with his hands. He was rewarded with a moan and a whispered, “Just like that...” from above.

The other man’s cock quickly became hard in his mouth. Hard wasn’t quite the right word, he reflected, since it had a yielding firmness which offered many surfaces and textures to explore. As he explored with his lips and tongue, he discovered all the little sensitive areas and exactly how to stimulate them to provoke delightful gasps, moans, and shudders from his partner. Closing his eyes, he started to lose himself in the delight of the vicarious pleasure he was creating.

After an unmeasurable time spent lost in teasing oral play, the cock slid away. As he opened his eyes, he saw the pale face approaching his own, its mouth slightly open. Closing his eyes again, he expected more kissing, only to find a tongue playing around his own lips, and pushing firmly into his own mouth. He eagerly matched the other man, and enjoyed this new activity only briefly until, suddenly, he felt hands under his own ass. Then, the taller man simply stood up, cradling him against his chest. They continued kissing as he was carried through a doorway into the apartment's bedroom.

He heard a whisper in his ear, "Is this your first time with a man?". He only nodded. The other man kissed him gently along his neck, and whispered again, "Don't worry... I'll take care of you." At which point, he found himself lowered backward onto a high bed. Opening his eyes, he could only see the blonde head and shoulders between his knees. Sparkling eyes watched his face as two hands reached up to grab the waistband of his shorts, and pull them straight to the floor.

Looking down across his own furry torso, he could see his own cock bounce up as it was released, already fully erect. While not overly long, he was fairly thick. Dark hair grew a little way up the sides, giving way to bare skin which was a few shades darker than elsewhere on his body. A bulbous, purple head—clearly outlined under his foreskin, and already partly exposed—glistened with his own secretions.

A hungry look appeared in the blonde's eyes as he saw it. A bottle of lube briefly appeared and vanished again, and the man saw one hand grasp his cock while a single slippery finger of the other tickled his asshole. The hand pulled down his foreskin, and, sliding forward, the man delicately licked around the ridge of his glans. Slowly, the blonde head lowered and his cock completely disappeared into the other man's mouth just as that tickling finger slid into his ass.

It was a bit of a shock, and he didn't know what to react to first. Ever so slowly, the finger and the mouth moved in tandem, slowly building up an ecstatic, buzzing tension in his groin. There was a pause, and the single finger was joined by a second. Everything was still for a few seconds, and then the slow movement began again. This time, the sensations built much more quickly as the internal rubbing became more insistent and honed in on a single delightful spot. His moans grew louder, and started to pick up rumbling, grunting undertones as he could feel himself getting closer. "Damn... keep going... that feels amazing...", he gasped between his grunting moans.

Just as he could feel himself getting close, the fingers slipped away, and the mouth vanished from his cock.

"My turn," the other man said.

With that, the tall man stood up, and his long, thin cock came into view. Stepping forward, he grasped the two cocks together in his long-fingered hand, and slowly stroked both together, getting them both slippery with lube. Then, leaning back, he lifted the man’s feet to rest of his shoulders. Teasingly, he placed the head of his cock right at the man's asshole while continuing to stroke him.

Ever so gently, the pressure at his asshole increased while the hand on his cock stroked and teased. He gasped as the pressure suddenly yielded and he could feel a cock enter his ass for the first time. It was just the head, and it held very still while the delightful stroking continued. After a minute, the stretched feeling subsided, and he said, "I'm okay..."

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you..." the tall man said, echoing his words from earlier as he slowly starting to push deeper inside a tiny bit at a time. Push a bit, then wait. Then retreat a bit, and return. Little by little, the cock probing his ass moved deeper and faster.

"Oh yes... more... keep going..." the prone man moaned and gasped as he could feel his body relax and acclimate to the gentle rubbing and occasional zing of that one spot inside him. Before long, he couldn’t tell which felt better: the stroking inside or out. He just knew that the combination of sensations was overwhelming, and he couldn’t tell exactly where any of it was coming from. The intensity of the experience kept bringing him to the edge of orgasm, but his lover would sense this, slow the pace, and back him away from the edge only to build him back up the precipice over and over again.

All too soon, he felt that orgasm was inevitable, and he started to grunt and cry out with every thrust. Just as the tension shifted from soon to now, he felt the cock pull out of his ass, and the man's mouth drop down over his cock at it started pulsing with jet after jet of semen. It was the longest and most intense orgasm he'd ever experienced; it almost felt like he couldn’t stop. When it finally did stop, he barely had time to register the long, lean form curling around him from behind and pulling him to the center of the bed before he passed out.

Noctus lay curled around his "prey" for a while longer. The short, furry man was still passed out, and it would be some time before he came around enough to bundle him into a Lyft and send him home. He'd be groggy, and wouldn't remember exactly what happened to him at the gym (and afterwards), but the revelation he'd had about himself couldn't be bottled up again.

As he lay there, Noctus reflected on something a succubus friend, Sulphurette, had said to him a few days ago: "No matter what the council says, sex isn’t a sin, a perversion, or a corruption." The more he thought about it, the more he agreed. He felt happiest with his own hunts when they helped some poor, repressed guy come out to himself. Never mind about "spreading perversion by corrupting men into homosexuality" as the demonic dictates stated. So much of his time these days was taken up with helping the succubi with all their little plots, training, and running the bordello that he seldom had time for his own kind of hunting. As he lay there, stroking the hair on the man's chest, he day-dreamed about his next hunt.

They had matching costumes which were definitely rooted in the Regency period, but they had gone all out on the masquerade part, too. Up to the waist, they looked as if they might have walked out of a Jane Austen novel. Above the waist, it was more Nether than Netherfield Park, and more bordello than Bennet.

The man exited the elevator ahead of the other two. He was an enormous, strapping man. He had shiny black leather boots which reached just below the knee. Above, he had fawn-colored trousers which were so snug as to outline each knot of muscle in his impressively large thighs. The snugness also revealed that he was either outrageously well-endowed, or at least wanted everyone to think so.

The coat, waistcoat and linen shirt were all there, after a fashion. Each was so shredded and torn as to be virtually unrecognizable. Leather straps with gold studs criss-crossed his hairy chest under the shreds leaving plenty of his muscular torso available to be admired. Huge bat wings rose over his titanic shoulders with the boney spikes at each joint gilded to match. He wore a disturbingly life-like skull mask which covered his upper face and cheeks to reveal reddish mutton-chop whiskers and a thick, waxed mustache. His lips were covered with white lipstick to complete the skeletal appearance. Huge gilded rams’s horns curled from his brow to complete a full circle and a half before ending in sharp points.

The ladies exited next, stepping out to either side. Both wore ankle-length period-correct Regency gowns in cream with gold accents which fastened around the waist with a wide red ribbon. Above the waist, though, their modest gowns were also shredded leaving them virtually nude except for a black leather harness made of straps which wound around their bodies. The net result barely covered enough to be fit for public display. Each also had bat wings peeking over their shoulders, gilded like the man’s, a white porcelain mask ringed with diamonds around the edges, and small gilded horns.

The older woman on the right was tall, dark-haired, very pale, and extremely buxom. She would make one think of a milkmaid with her pale skin and curvy figure except that her haughty expression forbade such a comparison. Her wings and horns were quite a bit bigger than the younger woman’s. The latter was small, tanned, and muscular with a figure more boyish than feminine. Her pointed chin and delicate hands softened the impression, though, and she was just as appealing in her own way.

Both women wore black leather collars with gold studs around their necks . A fine chain lead from each collar to one of the man’s hands. Without a word, the older woman handed the butler three invitations, and they walked into the party.

Umbra eye’s widened upon entering the apartment. The space was huge, with tall pillars and an open floor plan. The main area was the size of a ballroom, with hallways leading out of sight to both sides. Each pillar had a brass candelabra with tall, white candles actually burning, and matching floor candelabras were strategically placed all around the room so that, even though all the conventional electric lights were off, the room seemed brightly lit. Wood paneling covered the walls in the alcoves between the pillars, and the ordinary furniture of the room had been re-arranged all around the outside of the space to leave the center of the room open for guests. Floor-to-ceiling glass made up the far wall, with seemingly tiny doors leading out onto a balcony. Servers dressed in period-accurate footman’s or maid’s livery wove in and out with food and drink. There was even an actual string quartet playing softly in the corner accompanied by an actual harpsichord!

The guests, themselves, were more "masquerade” than "period”. A variety of modern super heroes, movie characters, and other more generic costumes dominated the crowd. Most had been altered, especially by the women, to show off a lot more skin than was originally intended. All managed to incorporate a mask into their costume somehow, even if it was only a strip of cloth over the eyes. There were a small number, mostly older, who not only managed to find period attire, but wore it with aplomb.

Their costumes had not gone unnoticed either. There was a subtle wave of heads and a buzz of conversation as the three appeared in the doorway a few steps above the throng ("Check out those wings! They look so real!”). There was much tapping of shoulders and nudging of ribs as everyone drew their neighbors’ attention to the trio.

It didn’t take long before Umbra saw their acquaintance from their recent trip to the opera making his way over. He was accompanied by two other men and a woman. The little group just so happened to include both the worst and best costumes in the room.

The worst costume belonged to a young man in his early 20’s. He was short, blonde, and slender. Completely in contrast to everyone else in the room, he was wearing a white muscle shirt, white jeans, and a black leather arm band. He was also wearing a lopsided wig of dark hair along with a false mustache and enormous fake teeth. He was accompanied by a woman around his own age. She was wearing a white latex pencil dress which barely contained her obviously (and absurdly) augmented curves. Her spray tan, bleached hair, and puffy lips only served to complete the sense of artificiality. Umbra privately nicknamed her "Barbie” even before introductions were made.

The best costume was worn by an older gentleman, probably in his mid 50’s. He was wearing an impeccable, period-accurate tail coat, waistcoat, trousers and boots. His salt and pepper hair was styled to perfection, including just a hint of mutton chops, but otherwise clean-shaven. He could easily have stood in for Mr. Darcy at a similar event two centuries earlier. His only concession to the "masquerade” was a replica of the Phantom of the Opera’s iconic white mask with the addition of a teardrop-shaped sapphire seeming to fall from the corner of his eye.

Introductions all around (with fake names for Sulphurette, Noctus, and Umbra) were accompanied by amazed compliments and Umbra learned that the young man and his father were the hosts of the evening. Sulphurette took the lead by inquiring: "You and your father seem to have miscommunicated about the theme for the party... your costume seems somewhat out of place?”

"Nah... I’m the Queen! Get it? Queen... like the band?” he sneered, popping a cheap plastic crown on his wig. "Dad’s a little... old-fashioned. But, at least I managed to get him to throw some kind of party!”

Only momentarily nonplussed, Sulphurette turned to the father and said, "Thank you for inviting us! Will we be meeting the hostess later? I’d love to compliment her on her taste in decorating this space. It’s quite lovely.”

The older man was about to reply when the young man interrupted him: "There’s no hostess. Mom died when I was little, and Dad still can’t find a date. He’s pretty hopeless with women.” There was an awkward silence for a moment until "Barbie” squeaked a giggle, and said in a nasal valley-girl accent, "But he’s so handsome! Like that tequila guy!” The giggles trailed off as she got no reaction from the crowd, and a deadly look from Sulphurette.

Just then, Umbra caught a quick look between Noctus and Sulphurette. Noctus stepped in by saying to the older man "Well, it won’t do to allow our host to be without feminine company on such an occasion, and I seem to have come over-prepared...” At the same time, he offered up Sulphurette’s chain.

The man raised both palms, saying "No, that’s very kind, but I’m quite well as I am.” Noctus was about to say something more when the son interrupted again.

"Come on, Dad! She’s super hot! Have fun for once!” with eyes clearly ogling Sulphurette’s tits. Then, he grabbed the offered chain and roughly yanked her forward, placing the chain in his father’s hands. For an irrational moment, Umbra half expected Sulphurette to hoist the uncultured boy off the floor and do something horrible to him. Instead, she smoothly placed her arm through the father’s, coldly turned her back on the son, and walked off into the milling guests. Noctus likewise took the opportunity to make a polite escape, taking Umbra with him.

As they mingled with the other guests, Umbra attended closely as Noctus kept up a running commentary on Sulphurette’s seduction of the older man. When she could, that is. They were often distracted by other guests complimenting them on their costumes, or by people wanting to flirt with one or both of them. However, Umbra started to see the pattern of innocent touches, smiles, clever conversation, and granting subtle opportunities to peek at her figure without getting caught. She also watched as the man’s posture relaxed, his replies to her questions grew more involved, and he even started to smile once in a while.

The flirting was interrupted by a flourish from the string quartet which brought all movement and conversation to a halt. The head butler who took their invitations stepped into the center of room, and raised his voice to say: "Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to this evening’s Regency masquerade!” Applause briefly interrupted him, and he continued: "Please welcome some of our own dancers to demonstrate the Quadrille.” At this point, two couples entered from opposite sides of the room and took up their positions. More applause. "Now,” the butler continued, "we need two volunteer couples! Don’t worry, our dancers will show you the steps!”

At once, Sulphurette and her gentleman joined the couples on the floor. Just as she was settling back to enjoy watching Sulphurette dance, she felt the collar around her own neck tug her gently forward as Noctus walked out onto the floor as well! Keeping a fake smile plastered on her face, she hissed, "Noctus! What are you doing? I don’t know this dance!”

He ignored her as they took their place to fill the last side of the box. As the music started, the butler called out the names of various figures for the dancers to perform. The four hired dancers demonstrated each figure first, and then would come their turn. Both Sulphurette and Noctus took to the elaborate gestures, passes, and skipping dance steps as though they’d been doing them for years. Which, Umbra reflected, they probably had. Sulphurette was, after all, nearly 400 years dead, and Noctus at least half that age. Not surprisingly, their host also seemed to know what he was doing, too. It was his party after all, and he must have known this was coming. That left Umbra feeling very much out of place, and terrified of making a fool of herself.

Fortunately, she could watch the professionals do everything first, and then mirror Sulphurette when it was her turn. In the end, she wound up loving the dancing. It sent electric thrills through her when her fingers touched Sulphurette’s in all the elaborate crossing and weaving through the patterns, and her heart swelled to be part of one of her romantic adventures. All too soon, the dance ended, and another began. She and Noctus stayed for the next Quadrille, but Sulphurette and her partner had disappeared.

"Oh my, it’s so cold out here in this costume!” Sulphurette said as she snuggled under the man’s arm. "Mmm. That’s better. Just don’t bump my wings... they’re fragile.” They enjoyed the view for a few moments when she added, "Thank you for the dance, though.” Reaching up, she caressed his face along the edge of his Phantom of the Opera mask. "Such a tragic, lonely, romantic you are...” she added.

He started a bit, replying, "I’m not...”

"I meant the Phantom...”

"Oh, yes. The Phantom. But he merely longed for what was never his, while I...” and his voice died out.

They were silent for a while. Sulphurette said quietly, "You too, though. It has been a long time for you, hasn’t it? Since you were intimate with someone?”

He didn’t answer at once. He sighed. "Yes. My son was very young when she died, and I haven’t ever felt like getting close to someone again since then. You’re the first woman I’ve meet in all that time who seems to see the world as I do. I’m so glad you came tonight.” he said as he pulled her even closer.

She slid around between him and the edge of the balcony, staring up into his face. Without any further words, she tentatively moved her face closer and closer to his. When he didn’t object, she softly kissed him on the lips, lingering gently over the kiss for a long while. When she pulled back, he seemed to be struggling with grief for a woman long since lost, hope for nascent love perhaps yet to be born, and a growing re-discovery of intimate desire. After a moment of indecision, he leaned in to kiss her eagerly and pull her close.

They stayed that way for several delicious minutes until a gust rushed by, reminding them that they were high off the ground with the stars of the city below and the stars of the sky above. Sulphurette shivered. Looking into his eyes, she said, "Perhaps we can go somewhere... more intimate?”

Playfully holding up the end of her chain, the creases showing in the corners of his eyes, he said: "Follow me.”

Noctus saw Sulphurette and her gentleman slip out onto the balcony alone after the first Quadrille and kept an eye out for them to come back in. When they did, they quickly dodged around the edge of the room to one of the many alcoves and disappeared down a hallway.

He had been enjoying seeing little Umbra practice her seduction skills with some of the young men at the party. However, it was clearly time to move the lesson along to the next stage. Resting his massive arms around the thin shoulders of the two anemic young men Umbra had been flirting with, he leaned heavily on them and said, "Would you gentlemen excuse us? I’m going to need some time alone with my date now.” With a significant wink, he pulled her along by the chain toward the alcove where Sulphurette had so recently left.

Still pulling her by the chain, the "Phantom” lead the miraculous woman he’d just met along the hall to his bedroom. Opening the door, he flipped on the switch for the gas fireplace, leaving the lights off. It flared to life, giving a flickering glow to the room. Heading for the two armchairs by the fire, he felt the chain go taught in his hand, and he turned to look back.

She was smiling at him. Stepping forward, she deliberately made a slow circle around him, tangling him up in the chain he still held. Her hands caressed his shoulders and neck over the stiff outer coat of his costume. Standing behind and slightly to the right—just in the way a valet would have done—she lightly lifted the lapels of the coat and pulled it back off his shoulders. Setting it aside, she pressed herself up against him from behind—just as a valet would not have done—and started unfastening the buttons of his waistcoat. This too, was set aside, and she guided him backward by the shoulders until his knees met the edge of an armchair, and he sank down into it.

Kneeling in front of him, she slid her hands from his stomach up to his chest, pulled his tie loose, and dropped it on the floor. Then, she un-fastened each button, one by one, until she reached his trousers. With a tug, she pulled the shirt loose, and let the light fabric float open to reveal the graying tangle of hair across his chest and abdomen. As she worked, her porcelain skin reflected the red and orange waves of light from the fireplace. Leaning forward as she was, her full breasts strained at the leather harness, bulging around each strap.

He had forgotten how good it felt to simply be touched. He relished the feel of her hands as they slid along his skin, and ruffled the hair on his chest. Her hands were smooth and cool on his body, and he relished the feeling. She caressed his face and kissed him deeply. Moving downward, she traced kisses along his chin, neck, chest, and stomach. Despite the antique system of buttons on his trousers, she easily opened them while still gazing deeply into his eyes.

Then, those cool hands reached into his briefs and pulled out his cock. Under her teasing fingers, he rapidly swelled to her touch. With the lightest touch of her tongue, she teased up and down its length before encompassing the entire tip in her mouth. "Oh... that’s amazing...” he whispered to himself. He closed his eyes and relaxed into the armchair, his head lolling back as she continued. Her mouth provided the perfect blend of sensations. Warm, strong, and smooth at once. As she slowly slid up and down on his cock, one hand applied a firm pressure as her mouth withdrew while the other stroked his stomach and chest. The most delightful glow spread from her mouth through his cock to his entire body. He continued to murmur words of delight and encouragement until she slowly took his entire length one last time, and then pulled back.

"I could spend the rest of my life like that,” he said smiling at her. 

"I have something else in mind,” she replied, winking back at him. One at a time, her hands slid off his long boots, and then his trousers. Finally, she held out her hands, and helped him to his feet. Those smooth, cool hands traced patterns along his naked hips, waist, and found their way up to his shoulders to push his shirt back until it fell off onto the chair.

She stood back, taking him in. He was completely naked now, while she was still completely dressed (if you could call what she was wearing "dressed"). She looked him up and down slowly with a sly smile on her face. "You’re quite a treat... you take very good care of yourself.”

He was both a little embarrassed and pleased about scrutiny and candid appraisal. He did work out routinely, and was a little proud of having kept himself in shape when most of his peers had slid into middle-aged chubbiness.

Tossing an armchair cushion on the ground, she invited him to lie down. He did so, placing his head on the cushion, and wondering what was going to come next. Raising her skirts a few inches, she planted one foot on each side of his ribcage so that he had a view straight up the sheer edge of her skirt, past the overhanging cliffs of her breasts, to the wickedly sly grin at the summit. In that moment, she seemed like a powerful giantess about to consume him. Slowly, the curtains of her skirts began to raise inch by inch. The plump curve of her calves came into view first, huge like the rolling waves of a calm sea. Next her knees were exposed, seeming to be the white crests at the ocean shore. Then her long thighs which seemed to run on forever like sandy beaches. Finally, the thick forest of dark hair: impenetrable, mysterious, and hiding secret delights.

Dropping her skirts, she slowly settled herself down onto his upright cock, not coming to rest until their hip bones met, and he felt himself pressed into the floor under her weight. It was sheer delight. She rocked forward and back on him, her breasts swaying to the limits of their harness on each stroke. Her hands were braced on his shoulders, and he reached up to caress her face, stroke her hair, and cradle her breasts. She moved slowly; almost sliding completely off him at the top, and then pressing him down into the floor at the bottom. As she moved above him, she purred soft words in Italian, only some of which he understood. "Amore... bellisimo... delizia...”

She moved faster and faster in time with his groans. He could feel the primal tension building in him until he groaned, "Oh god, I’m close!” At which point, she smoothly dismounted and took him all the way in her mouth. The urgent pull from her mouth and lips immediately put him over the edge. He moaned softly as his orgasm stretched on and on. It had been so long since he’d been with a woman, he’d almost forgotten what it was like. So much more intense, so much more satisfying, and so much longer than when he made do for himself. Sleep overtook him with the words "Thank you...” on his lips.

Sulphurette swallowed the last mouthful with quiet delight. She felt energized, alive, and profoundly happy. Smiling to herself, she stooped down, and picked up the tall man with as much gentleness and ease as a mother picks up a sleeping child. She tucked him into bed, and pulled the covers up around his shoulders. She looked down at him with genuine warmth in her eyes. Impulsively, she bent down and kissed him gently on the forehead. «Dormi bene, mio galante gentiluomo. Possa questa pace portare guarigione.» "Sleep well, my gallant gentleman. May this peace bring healing.”

She looked up to see Umbra and Noctus standing in the doorway. Umbra looked a little misty, while Noctus merely looked puzzled. Quietly, he asked, "Didn’t we come here so you could seduce the son, not the father?”

Looking back down at the middle-aged man sleeping contentedly, she answered, "Yes, but he needed it more. No matter what the council says, sex isn’t a sin, a perversion, or a corruption. It is the highest form of pleasure possible. He’d lost that in his grief. I’ve helped him regain it. That’s why I’m here, no matter how they see it.”

"So... Marcello, again?" Noctus asked with uncharacteristic gentleness.

"Yes." she answered, with a catch in her voice. And then, barely above a whisper, "Marcello."

The sun dropped below the artificial horizon of skyscrapers to the west, and the dim opening of each doorway he passed darkened to an impenetrable hole. However, he didn’t notice any of this because his mind’s eye was still filled with a much more tantalizing vision. The woman in the hot pink, skin tight, yoga pants. She’d been using the stair machine in front of the weights area where he’d been working out. He knew he hadn’t see her there before because he definitely would have remembered her! She was facing away from him, and had a towel draped over her head and shoulders, so he couldn’t really see much of her except the ends of platinum blonde hair which almost reached her well-rounded ass along with sculpted thighs and calves. He must have watched her climb a skyscraper or two while paying scant attention to his own workout. In fact, it was all he could do to keep his light exercise shorts from becoming an embarrassing liability under the circumstances.

He was still paying scant attention to where he was running as a young woman hurled out of a dark doorway and slammed directly into him! He was knocked off balance by the collision and just barely managed to keep on his feet.

She was small, wearing a baggy, unzipped hoodie with the hood up. Underneath, she wore a ragged tee-shirt, torn to expose her right shoulder and a good part of her breast underneath. Below, black tights with "artistically arranged” holes covered the length of her legs between very short black jean shorts and high-top sneakers. Dirty blonde hair peeked out around the edges of the hood. Her face twisted with sobs and was streaked with tears. A fresh bruise blossomed at the corner of her mouth. Blood trickled from a cut above her eye. She couldn’t have been much more than 20 years old.

An angry male voice yelled after her in some European language he didn’t recognize (not quite German, but definitely not French either...). The girl cowered into the dazed runner, turning her back on the angry man. Finally, a backpack was hurled out of the dark, landing at the girl’s feet, and the door slammed.

The girl sobbed all the harder, slid down to her knees, and planted her face directly in the man’s groin. He squirmed with an uncomfortable mix of arousal and pity. He was completely at a loss for what to do. This girl clearly needed some help, but he didn’t feel like he was in any position to give it. But, neither could he just leave her there. 

He patted her gently on the shoulder and tried to say something comforting. After a minute or so, he took her by the arms and helped her back to a standing position as the sobbing subsided into sniffles and quiet tears.

"Are you okay? Do you have somewhere to go tonight?”, he asked.

She looked back at him blankly, and haltingly said: "Help?” Grimacing, she tried again: "Can you me help?” Shaking her head and losing what little she had of her composure, she started crying again, choking out: "Kun je me helpen? Ik ben helemaal alleen, en mijn vriend heeft me er net uit geschopt...” at which point her sobs took over again rendering her completely incoherent.

Desperately looking around at the growing dark, he said: "Alright. You can’t stay out here. Grab your bag, and come with me.” She may not have understood the words, but she clearly understood his body language and gestures. Her tears stopped flowing, and she wiped at her face, transforming her messy make-up into complete disaster. Grabbing her bag, she hooked her arm in his and started to walk with him.

In the shadows of the doorway, a massive man watched the two of them go. Inside, a curvy woman in hot pink yoga pants also watched with a look on her face that was part worry and part pride: the look of a mother watching her daughter head off to boot camp.

A lock clicked and a door opened casting light into the room from the hallway. A hand flicked a switch by the door, and a dozen small white spotlights flared from ceiling fixtures all around the apartment. The small room included a kitchen, a table for two, and a small living area. The kitchen was dominated by dark granite, smooth white cabinets, and brushed nickel. A large, abstract painting full of saturated colors, straight lines, and acute angles covered one wall. Finally, a thick, shaggy rug covered the floor of the living area under a pair of leather sofas separated by a heavy, glass coffee table. A bookshelf populated with business titles occupied one corner, while a liquor cabinet occupied the other. A variety of expensive-looking bottles crowded the top while an assortment of glasses glistened in the glass case below. The entire space was a study in hard, shiny surfaces, tidy elegance, and expensive taste.

The older man came in with the younger woman snuggled up to his chest with his arm about her shoulders. He guided her to one of the leather sofas and asked, pointing to the liquor cabinet: "Would you like anything?”

Glancing over the bottles, the woman answered: "Ja... cognac, please?”

He poured out two glasses and sat down on the sofa opposite from hers placing both drinks on the glass surface of the coffee table. She reached for hers automatically saying: "met dank” before stopping herself to say: "umm... thank you.” Glass in hand, she pulled up her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms around them, and sipped at her drink. Sitting as she was, her shorts pulled very tight, and her legs were positioned just right to give him the best possible chance at a view he really shouldn’t have had. He tried not to look, but—despite the unexpected way he ran into this girl—he was still worked up from that woman in pink yoga pants at the gym and was much more tempted than usual.

He was at a complete loss as to what to do now. He clearly couldn’t communicate with her, and he felt more than a little concerned about letting her stay overnight. He didn’t want to take advantage of her, and she definitely wasn’t making things easy! He was trying to figure out what to do next when she asked: "Where is the toilet?

He pointed to one of the two doors leading further into his apartment (the other was his bedroom... but best not to think too much about that!). She slid her feet to the ground and leaned far forward to get up and fumble for her backpack. He tried not to look, but he just couldn’t help himself. Her baggy shirt billowed forward flashing a momentary view of her chest all the way down to her navel. Carrying her backpack, she vanished into the bathroom leaving him in unhappy, horny bewilderment.

Umbra unzipped the backpack after setting it on the bathroom counter. With a splash of water the fake bruise, messy makeup, and dribble of blood from her ersatz injuries disappeared. She pulled a bundle of nondescript white cloth from the backpack, and stripped naked. Everything except the tee-shirt got stuffed into the bag. She pulled her succubus shift over her head, and looked at herself in the mirror.

Taking a few moments to clear her mind and relax as she’d been taught, she tried to open her mind to the man in the other room. It took her a while to put aside her nerves and relax enough to start to get some impressions. She got a vague impression of a female shape with long, platinum blonde hair, a well-rounded ass above sculpted thighs and calves, and hot-pink yoga pants. As she concentrated, more and more details came into focus in her mind’s eye.

From there, she tried to keep that picture clearly in mind as she turned her attention inward toward herself. Nothing happened. With a sense of frustration building, she took a deep breath, deliberately relaxed her shoulders, and tried again while watching her reflection in the mirror. This time, she could see her sandy hair lighten by a few shades, and her small breasts swelled by half a cup size. Sighing with exasperation, she turned to see that her ass was as "athletic” as ever. Glaring at her own ass in the mirror, she grunted with annoyance and frustration as it refused to round out even a tiny bit. Sighing, she turned her attention to her garment.

It was supposed to be telepathically linked to her shape change, but it was even trickier to manage than her own shape. As soon as her attention turned to it, it transformed from plain linen to an opaque, pearlescent fog which caressed her body from neck to waist. And that was it. For a full minute, she concentrated on that damned fog with increasing determination until it finally started to swirl and coalesce into a definite shape. The fog formed itself into a hot pink bandeau bra with matching high-cut bikini panties.

To complete her look, Umbra pull the tee-shirt back over her head, judiciously ripped the neck open a bit wider, and let it flop even more deeply down over her shoulder than before so that the top of her hot pink bra was exposed along with most of her breast. Finally, she tousled her not-quite-so-sandy blonde hair to hide the tiny nubs of her new horns, and adjusted her small bat-like wings to be invisible between her shoulder blades.

She checked herself out in the mirror. The look of nervous apprehension was definitely not sexy. She tried out Sulphurette’s most sultry expression. It definitely didn’t feel very natural on her round face. Nonetheless, she glued it on firmly and reached for the handle of the door.

He glanced up from his empty glass as the bathroom door opened. He asked: "Are you feeling...”, and then he fell silent as his eyes grew wide.

The young woman’s appearance had changed dramatically. Gone was the baggy sweatshirt, torn stockings, and even the shorts! All that remained was a torn tee-shirt hanging off of one shoulder. It was short enough to expose tiny, bare feet; muscular thighs; narrow, hot pink panties; and the tight triangle of her pelvis. The shirt was thin enough to show the muted color of the matching strip of fabric which covered her breasts underneath.

She looked down at the floor, and a shy smile pulled at her lips. The tension he’d been trying to restrain under his shorts ratcheted up several degrees, and he dropped his hands over his lap to hide the results.

She detoured to the front door and leaned away from him to put her bag down. As she leaned over, he could see the defined muscles of her calves and hamstrings, and the hot pink fabric which narrowly covered the center of her ass. Just as the bag touched the ground, she was bent so far that he could see the fleshy mound of her pussy straining at the fabric with a small dark spot of moisture in the center.

Turning back, she locked eyes with him. Her mouth dropped open with a hungry look, and she reached up to cup one breast and pinch its nipple. Deliberately placing one foot in front of another, her hips swayed side to side as she approached. The man’s hands in his lap could do nothing to hide his obvious interest as his breath came in quick gasps.

Just as she crossed into the living room area, her foot caught on the shaggy rug, and she crashed to the floor at his feet with a frightened shriek! As she fell, he clearly saw bat’s wings snap open across the width of her back—tearing the tee-shirt completely in half—and flutter uselessly as she lay sprawled on the rug!

Umbra was focusing so hard on eye contact, hip swaying, and generally "being sexy” that she completely failed to notice the rug until it was too late. With an involuntary shriek, and a painful smack against the coffee table, she found herself in a heap on the floor. Pain and panic seized her for a moment as the full horror of her situation flooded into her brain. She was going to get caught. She was going to cause the succubi and all of demon-kind to be exposed to the humans. She was going to get dissected and studied. She was never going to see Sulphurette again.

No! Not that!

The impossibility of ever accepting that thought wiped the panic from her brain instantly. Sulphurette would know how to get out of this. What would she do? What did she always do? She would turn even this ridiculous, clumsy goof into a sublimely sensual moment which would enflame this human’s loins forever. So, that’s what she, Umbra, was going to do!

The man blurted "What the hell?!” as he urgently pushed himself back on the couch, but she (it?!) was too close for him to stand or get any farther away. Suddenly, her head popped into view over the edge of the couch cushion. Her eyes were half closed, and her mouth opened slightly into that same hungry smile. The man’s heart raced and his muscles tensed, gripping the back of the sofa balanced on the keen edge between fight and flight. But, he could do neither. The girl’s sensual, predatory stare held him fixed on that precarious balancing point.

"Wha-what are you?!” he whispered, his eyes wide and fixed on hers.

Without a word, her hands slid up his legs while she raised herself to be mere inches from his face. His cock strained at his shorts while panic started to seize his brain. He opened his mouth to yell for help. In that moment, she grabbed his cock through the fabric and leaned into kiss him urgently, and her tongue thrust into his mouth, licking and teasing.

For a moment longer, he hung in the balance between libido and alarm, but libido won out. His hands reached out to wrap around her ribcage and pull her closer. He returned the intensity of her kiss as though his need for the the feel and taste of her was suddenly more urgent than his need of air.

He felt her pull his cock free of his shorts and stroke him with the same urgency as her kisses. His hands wandered down along her body, feeling her tight, lean ass and legs. Scooping his hands under her, he pulled her up into a kneeling position above him. She reached down to pull aside her panties, and sunk down onto him, impaling herself deeply on his cock as she moaned: "Zo goed!”

Umbra was ecstatic. The cock inside her felt amazing. She could tilt herself back in just the right way to press all her internal buttons in the best possible way, plus she could reach down to press that all-important external button as well. Better than that—far better—was the elation of success! She was enjoying the fruits of her first successful hunt! The pleasure of her body blended with the ecstasy of accomplishment and the anticipation of the praise sure to follow.

She wasn’t done with the hunt yet, though, so she pulled herself back into the awareness of the moment. The man under her was thrusting into her, harshly grunting out obscene phrases. Umbra pulled her bandeau down around her waist and thrust a nipple into his mouth. The added stimulation was just what she needed. She felt the growing buzz of approaching orgasm, and could sense that he was getting close, too.

Just then, she heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps stopping outside the door of the apartment. They both froze, looking into each others faces with wide eyes, his cock still fully ensconced in her body.

They heard a zipper pull, followed by the jangling of keys. Umbra felt him jump under (and inside) her as he whispered in panic: "Oh shit! Ashley!”

Umbra’s heart clenched, a renewed sense of terror rose to her throat, and she panicked. Jumping off his cock, she grabbed her bag, wrenched the door open, and fled past the astonished figure still looking down at where the door handle had just been.

Umbra was sniffling and crying quietly as she stepped out of the apartment building. She’d thrown Noctus’s huge sweatshirt back over herself, so she was now covered almost to her knees with the hood up and the zipper right up to her chin. She was disappointed, embarrassed, frustrated, and hungry. She’d so anticipated catching the first fresh semen of her own hunt, so it had been several days since she’d last fed. Suddenly, it was all too much, and she lost her composure completely after the panic subsided.

Silently, a figure stepped out from an alleyway, and Umbra shrieked with renewed panic and terror! Shrinking back, and covering her head with her arms, she was amazed and relieved to feel familiar arms wrap around her as she sensed Sulphurette’s presence.

"Are you okay, mia margherita? What happened?” Sulphurette soothed.

The flood of relief and shame rendered Umbra inarticulate for a while as she burst out into a fresh wave of noisy tears. Sulphurette held her close, pushing back her hood to stroke her hair. Still weeping with her face buried in the taller woman’s shoulder, Umbra explained what had happened. When she reached the end of her story, Sulphurette took her face in both hands, and bent it up to look directly into her own. Her look was stern as she said: "What did I tell you is the first rule of the hunt?!”

"To never enter a space you don’t control,” Umbra whimpered.

"That’s exactly right! And what did you just do?”

"I went up to his apartment, a space I didn’t control,” she whispered back. Shame and fresh tears welled up in her eyes as Sulphurette continued to hold her face staring directly into her own. Umbra felt trapped in the misery of her mistake and the disappointment she felt in failing her mentor.

All at once, the formidable woman’s stern expression broke, and she seemed nearly in tears herself: "You scared me so much!” she choked out. "Never do that again!”

Umbra felt herself caught up in her lover’s strong arms, with her head held tight against Sulphurette’s shoulder. After a long pause, they both caught hold of themselves, and the older woman said huskily, "Come on. We can talk at home,” and they both vanished into the darkness, hands held tight.

Inside, electric lights, shining brass and white marble were echoed into enormity by mirrors covering the walls of the large lobby. White marble stairs covered in olive green carpet wound over a lighted pool and out of sight. Without hesitating, the young man and his friends wove through the slowly ascending crowd of tuxedoed men and richly gowned women.

Arriving at the mezzanine level, all three were momentarily stunned. A half-dozen, honest-to-god Succubi were mingling and greeting the crowd! And they. were. hot. None of them had exactly the same outfit, but all wore slinky gowns and cocktail dresses which showed off just about as much as it was legal to do in public. Deep v-necked bodices displayed the navels of some, and high-cut, side-slit dresses revealed the tops of stockings on others. Besides that, each one of them had the most amazingly realistic wings! They ranged in size and color, but all looked like they were made of a close-grained leather with a kind of internal mechanism which made them actually flex and move as the women walked about.

In particular, there was a short blonde with sun-kissed skin right in front of them greeting people as they reached the top of the stairs. Her dress was electric blue, and seemed like it must have been poured on just as they were running out of paint. Thin straps highlighted the muscular shoulders of a gymnast. As the fabric dropped, it flared wide enough to cover the nipples, but left the faint curve of her flat breasts exposed as it continued downward to connect below her navel. The back and side were similarly exposed, showing off the subtle interplay of lean muscles across her chest and back as well as the deliciously feminine dimples above her buttocks. The whole thing seemed so precarious, though, that the slightest wrong move would expose her entirely. Thin hips and thick thighs stretched the skirt nearly to its breaking point.

His two friends stood as gauche and goggle-eyed as they might have done at Hooters, but he wanted to seem aloof and mature. Quickly getting his hormones under control, he headed toward the bar, thinking to himself that the opera had really out-done itself in creating ambience tonight!

Umbra was all butterflies and nerves as she kept her fake smile glued firmly in place and tried to imitate Sulphurette's poise and witty conversation. It was her very first time being asked to join a hunt, and she was equal parts excited and terrified. Sulphurette had been planning this with The Agency's leadership for weeks, and there was a lot of pressure on her to pull it off. Umbra just wanted to make her mentor proud and not screw anything up.

Umbra kept an eye on the main staircase, bringing anyone promising to Sulphurette's attention. Seeing three young men come up the stairs together, she immediately signaled to Sulphurette. One of them headed towards the bar, and Sulphurette moved to cut him off. Umbra headed over to distract the other two with small talk, while keeping most of her attention on Sulphurette.

The two young men turned out to be mostly interested in her breasts (even small as they were), and therefore didn't notice that Umbra was distracted, too. She subtly shepherded her young men just a bit closer to Sulphurette so she could overhear.

Sulphurette sashayed up behind the leader slipping a hand over his shoulder and down his chest. She said in sultry tones: "Good evening. Welcome to the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion. Have you visited before?" With a start, the young man spun around and stared at her, eyes flickering between Sulphurette's bulging décolletage and her face.

Amused, Umbra saw him finally get his eyes under control, as he responded: "Y-Yes, many times. This is the first time for my two friends, though." He gestured at the two young men talking with Umbra. Sulphurette picked up the conversation to ask about other operas he'd seen, how well he knew Faust, and other topics to do with music. He seemed impressed not only with Sulphurette's décolletage, but also with her extensive knowledge of opera.

He had to admit that he was extraordinarily impressed. This woman was obviously more than eye candy to foreshadow the orgy scene at the end of the opera! In fact, he was shocked at the depth of her knowledge about the opera and music in general. Lamenting that tonight's performance was in German, she described the first performance of this opera translated in Italian ("The true language of opera...") as though she'd actually been to the performance more than 100 years ago.

The fact that she was easily one of the most attractive women he'd ever seen didn't hurt. She was dressed in a smokey black dress which seemed not to have a single actually opaque piece of fabric in it. You were only prevented from seeing her curvy body by the skillful combination of layers which tricked the eye. Jet-black hair over milky skin combined with just a hint of an Italian accent to give the impression of speaking with some European nobility. The subtle veins just visible beneath the skin of her bulging breasts seemed to reinforce the impression of "blue blood" in a way which set his heart racing, and made it very hard to concentrate.

Just as she finished yet another witty observation about German opera, she said: "I'm afraid I have to greet some of our other guests now, but I would love to continue our conversation later. Perhaps you and your friends could join my group later on?" He was already nodding, so she drew a small white card from her cleavage, and continued: "Excellent. Meet us here after the show." She leaned in close to kiss him on the neck, and tucked the card just behind the pocket square of his tux.

It felt like it took him a full minute to remember how to breathe properly as she disappeared into the crowd: wings waving as her ample hips swayed. His friends were their usual, juvenile selves as they rushed up to him. Apparently, they scored similar invitations from the petite blonde. Taking the card out of his pocket, his eyes widened as he read: "Founder's Room, 11:30" written out in gold leaf. He grinned at his friends, who held up their own cards and grinned right back.

Umbra heard the last chords of the opera come to their melancholy conclusion, followed incongruously by cheering and applause from the audience. She grinned quickly as she thought: "If they only knew what what the afterlife was actually like!" But, her attention was quickly drawn back to the doors of their little prep room when Sulphurette came sweeping back in. Everyone else grew quiet, too, and all eyes turned toward her.

"They should be arriving in the next few minutes. I managed to bag two more during intermission, making one man for each of us. If all goes to plan, this will be the largest single hunt our Bordello has had in a hundred years, and we will spread our influence in a strata of society which is normally very hard for us to reach." She paused to meet the eyes of each of the other five Succubi. "Except for my apprentice here, you have all been on hunts before. Stay alert, keep to your man, and be flexible. And remember, we want them just a bit groggy: not passed out for hours. So, control yourselves. I'll be back once they've all arrived, then we'll make our big entrance."

Umbra's nerves were creeping up again, so she closed her eyes, slowed her breathing, and brought back images of Sulphurette's nude form stepping out of the shower earlier that evening. She'd already chosen her form for the night: ebony hair, marble skin and heavy curves all around. The water sparkled in her hair and traced glistening lines over the curves. Eyes closed, Umbra felt the flush of arousal on her chest, and the swelling between her thighs in response. She continued to daydream for the next few minutes until Sulphurette returned to summon them.

The Founder's Room at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion exuded an aura of 60's opulence. Wood paneled walls stretched far overhead decorated with oil paintings and crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling providing the glow of candlelight to the entire room. Rich wood side-tables lined the walls covered with drinks, crystal glassware, and other refreshments. The center of the room was dominated by an arrangement of wide, cushioned benches arranged in parallel rows.

The young man sat near his friends: chatting, bragging, and sipping drinks. There were a few others who had joined them, and they were all waiting for the ladies to show up. Without warning, the two huge doors at the far end of the hall swung open, and the room fell silent as they arrived.

His jaw sagged open, and he just stared. Six women walked into the room looking like they'd just left a demonic version of a Victoria's Secret catwalk. Silk, satin and lace glistened everywhere, and they represented feminine perfection in every shape and color. They were lead by the woman who'd invited him earlier. As with the other women, her costume had changed considerably from when he'd last seen her. The wings and horns remained, but the gauzy layers of sheer fabric had disappeared leaving only a corset, panties, and thigh-high stockings. The others' costumes had similarly diminished. His cock throbbed in tempo with his pounding heartbeat, and his eyes raced from one to another of the amazing women, trying to drink them all in at once.

They strutted as though still on a catwalk along one side of the room, making subtle eye contact, and turning now and again to ensure everyone got a full view front and back. Each woman eventually locked eyes with one man in particular, and stood opposite them.

His was the blonde gynmast with the sun-kissed skin who greeted them as they first reached the top the stairs Instead of the dress, she wore a matching blue negligé made of a nearly transparent film with a broad satin ribbon below her breasts and a narrow split down the center. It only came down to her hip bones and ended in another band of the same electric blue ribbon. Panties of the same material peeked out from underneath as she walked. From behind, he could see her tiny, glossy black wings (so realistic!) poking out from slits in the fabric. Perfectly tanned ass cheeks were visible below, with just a narrow line of blue satin disappearing between them. As she stopped moving, her blue eyes locked with his, and he just about stopped breathing.

The lead woman announced in a soft, breathy voice: "Thank you, gentlemen, for being patrons of the arts, and coming to visit us tonight. On behalf of the entire opera company, and in the spirit of tonight's performance, we have come to show you our very special appreciation." As she finished her little speech, each of the women started forward to sit with her man.

Umbra entered the room just behind Sulphurette. She'd been told to connect with the opera buff who'd brought his two friends along that evening. The six pairs of eyes felt like tangible, groping hands as the men fell silent and stared at them, drinks forgotten, jaws sagging open. She saw her man at the far side of the room, and made sure to give him a particularly good view as they strutted around.

She'd not really been with a man for a long time, and, try as she might, she couldn't suppress her nerves. She'd always favored women, but as a prostitute during and after the war in Europe, she'd learned to enjoy being with men, too (one of the main reasons she was now a succubus). But, in the long years between those days and her transformation she'd exclusively been with women. So, despite her sexy and detached appearance, her stomach churned just a bit.

Her man was straddling one of the cushioned benches, and judging from the state of his wide eyes and the tent in his trousers, he wasn't going to be a difficult target. After Sulphurette's speech, Umbra approached him. Throwing one leg over the bench, she deliberately let her negligé flare open to reveal her stomach and panties as she settled herself facing him. Running her hands from his knees to his crotch, she leaned in to kiss him gently on the lips. He was hesitant at first, but eventually allowed himself to reach up to caress her face gently, and then more insistently.

He was unexpectedly strong as he suddenly pulled her close to sit on his lap with her legs locked around him, his hands caressing the lower part of her back. Memories of the strong hands of soldiers came flooding back, along with the eager swelling in her panties and memories of strong cocks penetrating her.

He was muttering eager compliments between kisses until she pushed him flat down on the bench, straddling his mid-section. Gently grinding her hips into his, she started undoing his bow tie and shirt buttons. He squawked a bit at that, and said: "Wait, wait, aren't we going to... go... somewhere...", but by the time he'd gotten that far she had most of his buttons open, and was running her hands along his hairy chest.

Pressing a finger to his lips, she said: "Don't worry, we're all among friends here." Sure enough, as he craned his head up to look, it was obvious that the other men were in a similar (and even more advanced) state of undress. With a long kiss, Umbra gently pressed his head back to the bench, and he heavily exhaled the last of his reservations.

Sliding backward to his thighs, her fingers traced though the hair of his chest and stomach down to his belt. She tugged it open, and pushed down his underwear. His eager cock bounced up to attention. Standing over him for a nervous moment, she pushed aside her panties, spread herself open, and slid down onto his cock.

It was even better than she remembered. The genuine article had a softness and firm, but yielding quality that no toy could match. Her groan matched his as she pressed inexorably downward until their hip bones locked together. She took a few moments to enjoy the fullness inside her before leaning forward to kiss him deeply on the mouth. As she tilted forward, her hips naturally rose up, and he took the opportunity to start thrusting from below while holding her face in both hands.

She exchanged a whispered stream of profanity, compliments, and inarticulate sounds with him as they lost themselves in their mutual pleasure. It may have been Amsterdam of many years ago, and he another American GI. With the pure, physical sensation, her joy at being penetrated by a living man returned from the deep past. Craving more, Umbra straightened up, hands on his chest, and began slamming her hips down on top of his, gripping his cock inside her with all her strength. He lay, eyes closed, grunting with each bounce.

Looking around the room, Umbra was treated to the sight of her sisters in their element. One pair of her sisters were in a 69 with one another while each was being pounded from behind. Another was on her knees with her wings outstretched, vigorously sucking off the man prone on the bench in front of her. Yet another had her man pinned against the wall while she smashed her hips into him. Finally, like her, Sulphurette was riding another man on a bench a short ways off.

She was magnificent. Long hair streamed down as she arched her back, thrusting her breasts upward. Her heavy breasts bounced and strained in her corset while small thrusts of her huge wings helped propel her up and down. She lolled her head in obvious pleasure while one hand vibrated between her legs. Before long, her eyes squeezed shut as her mouth opened in cries of ecstasy. She clamped her legs around the man's hips and shuddered for long moments, whimpering and crying out in a way Umbra knew very well. It was the most glorious sight she had ever seen, and she knew it would remain locked in her memory forever.

As much as he wanted this night to last forever, he could tell that he was starting to get close. And, if she kept increasing her pace as she had been, it was going to be soon! Looking up, he could see her staring at one of his two friends being ridden vigorously by the same woman who'd invited him. It was perhaps the most raw, wild, and unrestrained sex he'd ever witnessed. Then, when she finally climaxed, the shear feral sensuality of it was more than he could bear. At last, he grunted out: "I'm cumming!"

With a startled gasp, the woman atop him sprang up, grabbed his cock, and stuffed it in her mouth. Her hand stroked him rapidly while her tongue flicked across the head of his cock. He was so close that it was only moments before she brought him over the edge. With a groan, he let his head drop back, eyes closed, as the ecstatic tingle and surge of his orgasm spread from his cock to the rest of his body. He felt her suck down every drop of his cum, and continue to hold his cock in her mouth until he was completely limp. Only then, with one last sucking tug, she released his limp cock and climbed up to lay flat over top of him, stroking his hair, and kissing his neck gently. Between the caresses and the orgasm, he couldn't help drifting off to sleep.

Umbra breathed in the cool night air, her fingers twined with Sulphurette's, as they walked back home from the opera. Despite nearly messing up at the very end, Umbra had done her part to ensure the night was successful, and she was basking in the afterglow of the success. She'd been excitedly twittering along for several minutes before Sulphurette pulled her up short, and stared into her eyes.

"You did well tonight, mia bellissima margherita, but you still have much to learn. You have no idea what a success this night was. The influence of our power over those men will spread into the highest strata of society here for months and years to come. And, that will almost certainly mean promotion and influence with The Agency for me. I might even manage to get back to Europe after all these years! And then...!" As she spoke, her voice became faster and more strident, ending with a clenched fist and eyes gleaming red with demonic passion as they stared up into the sky.

As Sulphurette's frenzy increased, Umbra's joy drained away, and she filled with dread. She asked in a pinched whisper: "Would I still be your apprentice?" It wasn't the question she really wanted to ask, but she felt too crushed to ask what she really wanted to know.

Sulphurette looked down into Umbra's eyes, and the younger woman could see the fever of ambition soften into an equally fierce tenderness. And, answering the unasked question, she said: "Of course, carissima. I love you more than my own body. I would never let them separate us."

Standing on her toes, Umbra threw her arms around Sulphurette and squeezed her tight. Sulphurette pulled her close and stroked her hair. After holding each other for a few more moments, they continued on their way, hands locked, with Umbra's happy twittering floating off into the night sky.

As the cab stopped, she hurried up to climb in and nearly collided with someone! It was hard to make out much in the dark and wet, but he was wearing an expensive overcoat and hat and was clearly some kind of businessman.

"Pardon me! So sorry! I was distracted and wasn't watching what I was doing. I saw the cab stop and didn't even think..." he prattled, slowly coming to a stop and just staring at her. Sulphurette had quickly composed herself, and turned her full seductive gaze on him. "Umm. Ah. Wuh... Why don't you take this cab, I'll get the next one."

She'd been interrupted mid-hunt, and was still struggling to regain her focus. However, not for nothing had she once—long ago—been known as the cleverest woman in Venice. This could actually be an amazing opportunity.

Staring winsomely up at him from under her eyelashes, now dripping with rain, she asked: "Well, where are you going? Maybe we can share?" He named an address a good ways uptown. It didn't actually matter where he was going. With a delighted smile, she said: "That's just around the corner from where I'm headed!" With that, she climbed into the cab and slid across behind the driver. A moment later, he climbed in beside her. He gave his address to the cabby, and they were off.

Preoccupied by the news that his divorce had just been finalized, the man pushed his way through the revolving door of his office building, and abruptly noticed that he was getting soaked. A cab was just pulling up to the curb, though, so he rushed over to get inside and nearly collided with a much smaller person also rushing to get in. He was making his apologies when she turned her face up to look at him, and all thought was blasted from his brain.

She was so stunningly beautiful that it just about took his breath away. She wore a bell-shaped hat with a wide brim. Intense, deep brown eyes looked up at him with crystalline drops of water clinging to her thick eyelashes. Her face was narrow with a long nose, a wide mouth, and perfect skin the color of milky tea. Rich brown hair—almost black, but not quite—cascaded around her face in long, loose curls. He was reminded of the women he met attending a friend's wedding in New Delhi, but this woman was so beautiful as to almost seem unnatural.

As he offered her the cab, she looked up at him with an expression which was part damsel-in-distress, and part temptress. When she offered to share it with him, he couldn't resist. As she climbed into the cab in front of him, he caught the outline of a full, round ass covered by her coat and smooth slender legs underneath. Sliding in next to her, he saw the cabby looking back at them with wide eyes. He was a big man wearing an orange turban which nearly pressed against the ceiling of the car. Despite his obvious youth, he already had a long black beard. With a deep voice and a pronounced Indian accent, he asked where they wanted to go. Giving his address, the man looked at his new companion, but she just shook her head, waved a tiny hand, and leaned back into the seat.

As they started off, the only sounds were the squeak of the windshield wipers, the rumble of traffic, and Indian pop music playing quietly on the radio. The woman was looking out her window, absently unfastening the buttons on her wet coat. Seemingly unaware of her surroundings, she let it flop open to reveal a nightgown in shimmering pink satin which only just reached her thighs. Like her face, her legs were long, smooth, and gorgeous. Between the cold and the shear nightgown, her nipples stuck out prominently, making long ripples in the fabric which highlighted them even more.

The driver not-so-subtly shifted his mirror for a better view while the male passenger swallowed hard, and tried not to get caught peeking. Then, much to his shock, she casually reached up one tiny hand and started gently twisting a nipple through the nightgown, and then the other, giving soft sighs as she did so. The man could feel his cock stir in his pants, and he wondered if he had just stepped into some kind of Bollywood porn movie.

Eyes closed, she slid down in her seat, causing her nightgown to ride up and expose matching panties. Still tweaking a nipple with one hand, she reached down to slowly rub the mound of her panties with the other. The man's attention was momentarily drawn away as the car jerked erratically. Flashing his eyes away from the woman beside him, the man could see that the driver only had one hand on the wheel, and was obviously spending a lot more time looking behind him than in front of him.

Soon, she was moaning very clearly over the other sounds in the car, and slipped her hand inside her panties for better access. The fabric, stretched tight over her knuckles, danced rhythmically as her hand flicked back and forth faster and faster. The man couldn't help but rub the bulge in his pants as the sounds of her orgasm drawing closer sent the blood throbbing through his body. She finished with loud whines of pleasure as they were stopped at a traffic light. At this point, he was just starting at her openly as she slumped back in the seat next to him.

Still gasping, Sulphurette opened her eyes to find both men staring at her in a state of amazed arousal. Seeing that she had them both well under her spell already, she said: "Mmm... that was nice. But I want more. Driver, why don't you find us all a quiet spot to get better acquainted?" He nodded eagerly, flicked off the meter, and gunned it as the light turned green.

Turning to the man beside her, she sized him up for the first time. He was middle-aged, caucasian, with a handsome face, and touches of gray in his dark hair. He was wearing an expensive overcoat above a gray business suit. His tie was loose, his top button undone, and a small tent obvious through the thin material of his trousers. Stretching one thigh over his lap, she lightly pulled his face to hers as her other hand gently caressed the tent in his lap.

She kissed him deeply, tongue exploring his mouth. She could feel him flinch as he noticed the forked tip, but he quickly got into the spirit of things, and she felt a hand exploring her breast. This lasted only a minute before the driver pulled into an underground parking garage, and—tires squealing at every turn— took them to the lowest—and most deserted—level.

As soon car pulled into a space in the farthest corner, Sulphurette stopped snogging the man beside her to grab the driver by the collar, and whisper in his ear: "I want your cock inside me: now!" She then opened her door, and stepped out onto the concrete so that her backside was just sticking out of the car door, while she turned her attention back to the man beside her. He already had his pants undone, and was just pulling out his cock when she turned back.

The driver was having the night of his life. He'd only recently moved here from northern India, and was just driving to pick up some cash until the semester started. Of course, one gets wild ideas about America from the movies, but everyone knows that real life isn't like the movies. But, here he was! Right in the middle of a crazy American movie!

The girl looked almost exactly like his favorite Bollywood star, but even more beautiful. He'd never even seen anyone like her in real life. He'd already been jacking off watching her, and when she suggested adding him, he hightailed it to the nearest garage. Now that the car was parked, he just about tore the door off its hinges in his excitement.

When he got out of the car, he could see that she was bent over with her ass sticking out the door. The tails of her coat were hanging around her waist, and the rest of it was oddly bunched up in a large lump over the center of her back. He paid it no attention, though, since her nightgown had slid up along her back exposing a gorgeous ass waving back and forth in front of him with the thin line of a thong just barely covering her privates.

Pulling down her thong, he could see wispy black hair covering her labia below the pink pucker of her asshole. She wiggled her butt invitingly, as her mouth was still busy inside the car. Stepping forward, he slid his cock into her pussy. It was amazing. Hot, slick, and very tight; granted, he was a big guy in general, and definitely a bit above average downstairs. He could hear sloppy wet sounds from inside the car, and his passenger was groaning encouragements loudly.

He started thrusting inside her in long deliberate motions, determined to last as long as possible and enjoy this once-in-a-lifetime experience.

As soon as her hand left his crotch, the businessman worked open his belt and trousers. By the time she turned her attention back to him, he'd just about managed to wiggle his stiff cock out of his pants. As soon as it was exposed, she whipped off her hat and dove down to take it in her mouth. She was wearing something funny on her head, but he was soon in no condition to care. Her mouth was on his cock, and he could think of nothing else.

Her head was bobbing up and down vigorously, sinking all the way to the base of his cock each time: one of the advantages of being less well-endowed. The two parts of her tongue twined around his cock like two strong, wet fingers. Without thinking, he started a litany of dirty talk punctuated with groans while she deep-throated him repeatedly and massaged his balls. Reaching down to grab her head, he jabbed himself painfully on the weird headband she was wearing, but that was only a momentary distraction as she keep up her expert attentions.

The sound of a motor broke through the haze of pleasure filling his brain, and he realized that another car was coming down the ramp to their level. The girl slid backward out of the car, grabbing his tie and pulling him along.

Getting out, he could see the tall driver lying flat on the ground, his feet almost under the car, and his body stretching away into the adjacent spot. His big, brown cock looked like a beer bottle balanced on his groin. The woman, crouching over him, squatted down on top of it, her butt thrust out back toward the car as she bent low and started kissing the driver. Looking back over her shoulder, she took out a condom and a small bottle of lube from her pocket and demanded: "Put it in my ass!"

Indeed, the little pink pucker winked invitingly at him above the pussy stretched wide to encompass the driver's cock. Giving a look around, he could see the other car pull into a spot about a half-dozen spaces closer to the exit. Kneeling down with the other two behind the shelter of the car, he prepared to do exactly as the lady requested.

It had been a long time since Sulphurette had managed to get two men at once, and her fellow passenger's less intimidating cock had inspired with the perfect place to put it. She lowered herself all the way down on the lovely, thick cock underneath her, and handed a some supplies to the other man. After waiting eagerly for too many seconds, she felt a touch at her back door. First one lubed finger and then another worked their way into her hole, and she squirmed and clutched at them with her ass. After only a few seconds, they disappeared, and she felt the other man's cock—perfectly-sized for unplanned anal—pushing its way inside her.

Once he was all the way in, Sulphurette took a few moments to revel in the magical feeling of being completely full. She was dimly aware of laughing, chatting voices a little ways off as she started rocking slowly back and forth on the two cocks. Biting her lip to keep quiet, she couldn't help a low huff on each stroke as she impaled herself to the limit again and again. Planting one hand on the driver's broad chest, she freed up her other hand to start flicking her clit: adding to the mounting ecstasy. Her orgasm came quickly after that, and she thrust herself back onto the two cocks and stayed there spasming for nearly a full minute.

Once she recovered, she pulled herself off the two cocks, and spun about. She lightly pushed her fellow passenger backward, and he let himself fall across the seats: legs and cock still sticking out of the car. Discarding the condom, she went to work on him in earnest.

Below her, she heard an admiring moan and something like: "Kya ek yoni!" followed by some shuffling. In short order, she could feel some ineffectual lapping at her vagina. She thought: "Ugh... Doesn't anyone teach young boys about the clitoris anymore? At least, I'm already two orgasms in..."

Sucking hard and fast, she extended her powers into the man in front of her, taking hold of his balls, prostate, and other organs. When he finally started to cum, she exerted her will to drive his body into wave after pulsing wave of orgasm: and wave after wave of semen which passed immediately down her throat. She could feel her physical form grow more solid and powerful with each spurting jet.

As the man in the car went limp, she turned her attention to the large and eager cock now immediately below her. She started stoking him rapidly: working her tongue all over the head of his cock. His earlier ineffectual lapping become completely useless and he started issuing vociferous encouragements in a language Sulphurette didn't know. As before, she worked her power into the man's organs, pushing them to produce beyond their limits. It wasn't long before he gave out a massive groan, and a flood of semen surged into her mouth. She could barely contain it all, but was determined not to lose a drop. As before, she could feel the ecstasy of energy surging from man's body into her own: locking her spirit tightly into her physical body.

When she was done, she felt a tingling from her ears to her toes. As much as she had enjoyed sex as a human, the poor creatures had no idea how good sex could really be. She congratulated herself not only on catching two men in the same hunt, but having done so without either ever realizing what she actually was. She was going to enjoy making some humble pie for The Agency with that when she got back home: particularly after what they said to her after her last, failed, hunt.

As she stood, settling her clothes in place and looking down at the results of her evening's work, she started to giggle, and then laugh out loud. Everything happened so fast that these two would probably forget everything all the way back until before they'd even met her. Imagine their surprise waking up in a few hours, cocks hanging out, in a deserted parking garage, with a discarded condom on the floor next to them! But, she thought, the benefits they received would be more than worth the confusion. The elevator arrived, and she took it back to the street level, still giggling quietly to herself.

The door opened showing the silhouette of a woman in a dress. The bright hall light behind her prevented him from seeing any more details. She entered the apartment, and closed the door behind her. She remained in the darkness outside the narrow circle of light. Noctus frowned impatiently. "Step into the light," he prompted. She did.

The dress turned out to be a horrendous sickly green color something close to vomit which hung like a bag on the stick-like figure of the woman. She—what could be seen of her—was scrawny and short. She had lank, muddy brown hair raggedly cut at the shoulder with uneven bangs hanging into her eyes. The face was plain, and covered with pimples and blackheads surrounding a large nose, and squinting eyes. Even her posture was limp, slumping, and awkward with hands clenched together in front of her.

With only partially feigned disgust, he chortled: "Sulphurette, where do you even find these shapes! Now, you've almost made me lose my erection! Play nice, my dear..."

Sulphurette Brimstone reluctantly entered the room when she heard the deep rumble of a voice call: "Enter." Standing in the darkness, she prepared the little surprise she had for Noctus, and, when he prompted her, stepped forward into the light. He was always so juvenile, and he always took such a clumsy approach to these encounters that she not-so-secretly delighted in tweaking his nose at every opportunity. Of course, he insisted on her taking on a form of his choosing, so she braced herself, and opened her mind to Noctus's erotic fantasies to see what his perverted mind would dream up this time.

In moments, naked people of every description and in every possible combination raced through her mind, performing sexual activities which would have fueled the wet dreams of a thousand generations of teenage boys. It was so intense that it was impossible to settle on a single shape. In rapid succession, her body shifted and morphed through a half-dozen women. There was a redhead with a long mane of hair, milky skin, and a field of ginger freckles. Then, a young Japanese girl in a shockingly truncated school uniform. Next, a towering blonde with a buzz cut on one side of her head and the stringy build of a basketball player. Head reeling, Sulphurette closed her mind just as she settled into yet another form.

Her skin was the color of creamy, rich chocolate, with massive round breasts, and equally large and round buttocks framing a wasp waist. Her hair was braided into dozens of long, thin strands which fell almost to her waist. The ugly frock was transformed into a flowing cocktail dress in shimmering, emerald green which hung off her every curve, highlighting the shape of her breasts and the small points of her nipples. She would have looked right at home singing jazz in the hottest club in New Orleans. Still getting her dizziness under control, she heard him say: "Strip for me."

Noctus loved the effect he had on Succubi. Seeing his hyper-sexual imagination take shape in the flesh right in front of him was intoxicating. Like a sexy slot machine, you never knew where it was going to land: except, in this game, every time was a winner. Seeing his winner this time, he was delighted (wasn't he always?). Telling her to strip, he settled back in his chair to stroke himself and enjoy this shape while it lasted.

She gave him a smoldering look from dark brown eyes outlined with black mascara and shimmering green eyeliner. Her large pouting lips were deep red with lipstick, and her forked tongue slid out and seductively traced their shape. Slowly, she turned around to reveal that the dress was backless. Noctus involuntarily leaned forward. Huge leathery wings fluttered slightly over an expanse of smooth brown skin. Piles of silky material folded on her ample backside just revealing a pair of quintessentially feminine dimples. Noctus loved those dimples. With a shrug of one shoulder, the strap of the dress slid down to one elbow, revealing the outline of a large breast around the curve of her ribcage. This also revealed the curve of the top of one ass cheek and the strap of a thong. The other shoulder shrugged, and the entire dress slid to the floor in a sparkling cascade. Her bottom was huge and magnificent, traced by the slender curve of her thong disappearing between her cheeks.

Noctus's cock had definitely recovered from it's earlier shock, and was now standing fully at attention, oozing pre-cum in his excitement.

Swinging her hips side to side, she bent over, her hands gliding all the way down to her ankles to unbuckle the straps of her heels. Her asshole and pussy were only barely covered by the slender thong, revealing tightly curled black hair surrounding both. From her bent-over position, she teased the panties over her ass, revealing the pinkish pucker of her asshole, and a wrinkled mound of dark brown labia protruding from the pubic hair.

Noctus's cock was pulsing as he eagerly stroked it, watching intently. Just as Sulphurette slid her panties to the floor, he told her to stay right there.

Sulphurette heard the voice in the shadowy corner say: "Stay right there." So, kicking off her second shoe, she waited, panties around her ankles, ass up in the air, and wings spread wide for balance. She heard the creak of the chair as Noctus stood up, and approached her. His big hands lightly slapped her ass, sending waves jiggling through her ample flesh. She felt a finger tickle her clit, slide along her labia, and dip into her pussy for a moment before sliding into her ass. Before she knew it, the tip of a large butt plug was pressed against her asshole, and shoved—none too gently—inside her.

She could see Noctus's naked feet and legs as he circled around to her front. An ottoman was shoved in front of her, and Noctus told her to kneel on it. Sulphurette's irritation was starting to rise. Noctus was never a considerate lover, and she had never gotten used to being a sub. Still, knew what this was leading up to, so she obediently climbed up to kneel on the ottoman on all fours, breasts swinging forward heavily.

Looking up, she could see him looking down at her. Despite her annoyance, she could appreciate what a fine-looking man he was. Broad, muscular shoulders, well-defined chest and abdomen, and a slender waist were accented by curly dark hair over olive skin. Looking down at her, his eyes went slightly out of focus for a moment. Then, he said: "Oh... I know what would go with this shape..."

At that, he transformed, too. His skin grew darker by degrees, and the body hair thinned out. His features morphed from being reminiscent of southern Europe to central Africa. The perfect curls on his head disappeared while a short goatee and mustache grew out. His frame became more slender, and a touch taller. Within seconds, he was a gorgeous specimen of masculinity which matched her voluptuous dark-toned femininity. Despite herself, Sulphurette's breath caught in her throat at the exquisite sight before her. It was the same man she'd enjoyed so much at the club only last week.

Noctus stoked both hands over his newly smooth scalp before burying them in the long braids of Sulphurette's hair. Wrenching her head up, he swung his cock in her face, and stuffed the tip of it into her mouth. With a red gleam in his eyes, he pushed his hips forward while the hapless woman's eyes grew wide and filled with tears as he pushed his cock into the back of her throat. He could feel her muscles spasm around the head of his cock as the mascara traced black trails down her cheeks until she finally shoved him away with one hand.

Delighting in her half-hearted struggles, gasps for air, and streaming eyes, he continued to thrust deeply into her mouth. Every once in a while, he would take his cock out to slap her lightly across the face with it, thrilling to see the saliva dripping in ropey strands from her mouth. The red lipstick was now smeared on his cock, and halfway up to her ears.

Thinking it would be necessary to increase the intensity, he thrust her head down to the ottoman, and put one heavy foot on top of it to pin it there. Reaching to a shelf behind him, he grabbed a long-handled flogger with a spread of soft leather strands. Standing with one foot on her head, he could see the large round ass sticking up before him. He felt her twitch under his foot as he brought the flogger down—hard—on the exposed backside. Softly at first, but with increasing vigor, he brought the whip down again and again until it left red welts across the dark skin. Hissing gasps of pain were his only reward.

So, she needs even more, he thought. Sticking the handle of the flogger between Sulphurette's teeth, he said: "Hold on to this for me." Then, he moved around behind her where the butt plug was still lodged in her backside. Taking his cock in hand, he slammed it home into her pussy without warning. She let out an angry squawk of protest, which he did find rather gratifying. Again and again, he pulled all the way out, and slammed himself home into her. Finally, he yanked out the butt plug, and was about to plunge himself into her ass when it happened.

Sulphurette's annoyance had been growing since she stepped through the door. Some girls may get off on all this senseless bullying, but not her. When Noctus callously yanked out the butt plug, the pain of it was enough to finally tip her over the edge.

In an instant, she clapped her powerful wings shut around his head, boxing his ears, and kicked back hard with one heel. Noctus stumbled backward: momentarily stunned by the kick. Jumping up, and turning about, she kicked the ottoman away and faced him. Her rage had finally stripped away all pretense she had of humanity, and her true, demonic, form emerged.

She was almost six feet tall, with brick red skin, her lean feminine frame rippling with muscle. Her face twisted in a snarl which showed her sharp, pointed teeth. Her round breasts rode high and compact on her chest, nipples centered in areolae so deep red as to seem black. Straight black hair streamed down her back, highlighting the sharp, bone-white horns jutting from her forehead. The skin of her arms faded from red to deepest black, tipped with wicked claws. Her wings spread wide, filling the apartment, and her eyes glowed red like a feral animal. Most human men would have wept with fear at the mere sight of her.

But, Noctus was no human man. From his prone position, he also transformed. His skin took on a reddish hue slightly darker than her own, and, if anything, he grew even bigger. Thick fur sprouted along his legs, and human feet dissolved into huge cloven hooves. He did not gain claws, but his hands crusted over with thick horny callouses. His eyes, too, glowed red in the shadows: glinting on the polished ebony surface of the huge ram's horns sprouting from his temples.

Before he had time to do anything else, Sulphurette sprung at him with an inhuman screech that would have been equally well fitted to a huge, enraged bird of prey. Slamming into his gut with one knee, she slashed across his face with one of her claws, planting the sharp tips of the other around his cock and balls. Grabbing a horn roughly with her free hand, she slid forward, planting her pussy firmly over his face, and said with a voice of rusted metal: "Lick!" She gave a squeeze of the sharp claws holding his delicate bits for emphasis.

His eyes glittering, he did as he was told, arms flat on the floor, and making no incautious movements. She felt his long, forked tongue slide inside her vagina, thrusting and squirming, before leaving to find her clit. Shuddering, she ground her pubic bone into his face, and started thrusting her hips in tempo with his licking. Whatever else he was, he was exquisitely talented with his tongue. It was long, strong, and impossibly fast: seeming to touch her everywhere at once. She could feel her excitement mounting quickly and her avian shrieks filled the room. Locking her knees together under his large ram's horns, she sank her pussy into his rapidly lapping tongue and shuddered repeatedly as an orgasm rocked through her.

He felt her grip loosen as her orgasm died away, and he shoved her backward as though she was a child. Succubi may be fierce and strong, but they were nothing to an Incubus in brute, physical strength. Her wings billowed to catch her as she landed on her back in the center of the room. He immediately rolled forward and pounced.

Pinning her to the ground, he shoved his cock in her pussy and started pounding her furiously. She shrieked as only a female demon could do, and tore at his flesh with her claws. Bloody gashes opened across his chest and neck and healed almost as quickly. Snarling, she sank the pointed needles of her teeth into his shoulder, and planted her claws in his back pulling herself tight against him, and thrusting with her hips in time to the increasing urgency of his rhythm. Her pussy was so hot and strong that his cock felt like it was on fire. No sensation in the world could match it. He could feel himself swelling and the electric pressure building in the head of his cock as he pounded her with all his massive strength. He could hear from tone of the desperate cries in his ear that she was close. Holding himself back with long years of practiced control, he kept up his brutal pace until she started twitching and shrieking under him. Then, in another few thrusts, slammed himself all the way to her limits and let himself go in long pulsing blasts of pleasure.

Once both their orgasms were over, he rolled off her, and lay flat on the floor. The sudden silence rang in his ears, as the only sounds to be heard were their quiet breathing. Suddenly, he felt a light smack on his arm, and a human voice said: "You're such an asshole."

Looking over, he could see that she was back in the human form he'd last seen her in, and he realized that he was back in his human form as well. She was glistening with sweat, and it served to highlight the perfection of her curves and smooth chocolate skin in the light. Laughing tiredly, he said: "But you like it."

"Yes, I suppose sometimes I do," she admitted as she snuggled into his side. He pulled her close, and then froze as a painfully tight hand locked around his balls. "Next time, though, you're going to have to get a lot more creative about provoking the transformation, or I'm going to rip these clean off," she growled.

"O-of course, Sulphurette," he squeaked: eyes wide. "Naturally, I'll have something even more amazing for you next time," he purred as she snuggled into his chest. He stroked her gently and curled his long, lean frame around her short, curvy one as they drifted off, telling each other stories about their recent conquests.

"Is he here?", she asked, curtly, seeming already to know the answer.

There was a movement behind the young woman, and a huge man loomed over her: apparently stark naked. He was enormous: almost tall enough to have to duck through the doorway, and nearly so broad as to have to go through sideways. Beautiful olive skin was covered with coarse, black hair which matched the perfect black curls on his head. His face was clean shaven, and wore a look of unmatched smugness. Enormous, curling ram's horns and black leathery wings left no question that he was an incubus.

With a wink, he said: "Noctus Stonebrow, at your service, Miss Brimstone." in a rumbling, basso profundo voice. His huge, predatory smile left no doubts about what kind of "services" he was offering.

"I have a client coming in tonight who wants the locked front and back. Are you free?" she asked, with a certain amount of resignation in her voice.

"Oh dear Sulphurette, have you been demoted... again? That must be so humiliating for you." he replied with obviously false concern. "For you, of course, I'm always available. The usual... payment?" he asked. His toothy smile became positively feral, and his eyes took on a red gleam.

"Fine. I see that you've been going after difficult prey here." she retorted, with a glance at the girl's meek demeanor and the pitiful state her makeup. "So, this should be something even you can manage. Be ready in the dungeons at eight." With that, she pointedly turned away from them both, and marched off to the sound of deep, rumbling laughter.

The man laid his neatly folded trousers on top of the rest of his expensive, designer suit. Pearl cufflinks, a silk tie, and a fat wallet already lay on the vanity next to a silver tray holding a large butt plug and a small bowl of lube. With some trepidation, he picked up the intimidating object from its silver tray, and dipped it in the small bowl of lube. He almost decided to bail right then and there. His best friend swore that this place was amazing, but he was having second thoughts. He'd recently come out as bi, and had only been with a man once before. He was dying to do it again, but he was super nervous about doing it like this. With a deep breath, he worked the plug into his own bottom, and took one last glance in the mirror.

It reflected a moderately attractive young man in his early twenties with elaborately styled brown hair. His youthful body was smooth and nearly hairless, with the physique of a long-distance runner. Behind him, he could see the rest of the small changing room, the door to the compact bathroom off to one side, and the door back out to the lobby (and safety) on the other. In front of him was the door he was to knock on when he was ready. Steeling his nerve, he knocked.

A lock clicked, and a young woman in a hooded robe came into the room. The robe hung open to reveal a black latex corset with matching thigh-high boots. Dark areolae peeked out of the top of corset. A tiny latex skirt barely covered her hips. She was carrying a thick band of cloth, and a pair of restraints attached to a long leash. She reached up to put the blindfold over his eyes, and then fastened the restraints around his wrists. Finally, in the calm voice of an airline stewardess, she said: "Follow me please."

Not that he had much choice. She was tugging on the chain, and he almost stumbled forward into her. As they passed through the doorway, she stopped to lock it again before leading him down a hallway paved with cool tiles or stones. People were obvious coming and going all around him, and he felt profoundly embarrassed at his nudity. No one else seemed to pay him any attention, though. Before long, they arrived at another room which was duly unlocked, and they went inside.

The floor was made of some smooth, padded material that yielded under his bare feet. The woman's calm voice instructed: "Lie down please." He did so, and he felt his arms being tugged over his head, and then similar restraints with a spreader bar placed around his ankles. Both were fastened firmly, stretching him wide open on the floor. Then, the blindfold was removed. It didn't matter: it was still pitch black.

He started to feel mounting panic. He silently repeated his "safe word" to himself. It was fine. It was fine. They'd let him up as soon as he liked. Just keep calm.

The young woman left, closing the door behind her. It felt like forever before he heard the door open again. He couldn't help himself; he squeaked into the darkness: "Who's there?"

"Hello Mr... ah... Smith." a silky female voice said from nearby. The long pause, and brief chuckle before the word "Smith" made it obvious she didn't buy the fake name he gave at reception. Somewhere beside her, a low, deep voice chuckled softly.

He heard the soft padding of bare feet circling the room, and then someone crouching down on either side of him. Four hands found his body in the darkness and stroked his chest, hips, and legs. Two were quite small, and obviously feminine. The other two were huge and strong. A shiver ran through him as he felt the hands seemingly everywhere on his body all at once: except one place. His cock strained fruitlessly and was utterly ignored.

With the hands, soon came lips. Soft, delicate lips on one side, and large, strong lips with just a hint of scratchy bristle on the other. They, too, roamed about his body, both finding his mouth from time to time, and each seeming to devour him. Finally, they found his cock.

It was the woman first. Her dainty hand slid down his stomach and grabbed it around the root, holding it fast: pointed straight at the ceiling. Then, the man's large mouth engulfed him. It was nothing like a blowjob from a woman. His cock felt tiny in this man's mouth. The huge mouth moved fast and eagerly with a strong suction. Then, with a flash of cool air, a smaller, gentler mouth replaced it. This one was slow, and subtle with teasing flicks of what felt like a split tongue! They exchanged back and forth between them while the prone man panted in delight.

Soon it was to be his turn. In a coordinated movement, the figures shifted. Then, he felt the bulbous tip of a large cock offered to his mouth while a small hand guided his own cock into the slick smoothness of a pussy hovering over his waist.

Eagerly, he took the cock in his mouth while the woman's weight settled onto his hips: grinding his pelvis into the padded floor. It was a good deal bigger than his own, and his hands were tied, so he did the best he could. He ran his tongue around what he could fit in his mouth while he bobbed his head up and down, trying to get at as much of it as possible. He was rewarded with approving groans and encouragement from the deep voice far above his face. At the same time, he could feel the woman bouncing eagerly on his cock. Her silky voice murmured a stream of obscenities as she drove her hips hard into him with each bounce.

The ersatz Mr. Smith completely forgot his earlier nervousness. His attention drifted from enjoying the obvious pleasure of his two lovers back to his own pleasure in a dizzy haze. After a few minutes of this, the female voice said: "I think he's ready now."

The two lifted themselves off of him, and the man could hear light chains rattling as they were unhooked from the wall. The chains relaxed, and he could feel thick, hairy arms slide under him, lifting him completely off the ground in an effortless motion. Like a doll, he felt himself turned sideways, and his feet placed on the ground. His hands were pulled toward the ceiling so that he was again stretched out spread-eagle, but now standing up.

The two shapes in the dark converged on him from both sides. He could feel the soft pressure of the woman's large breasts pressing into his chest while she slowly squeezed his cock between her thick thighs. She kissed him gently along his shoulder and collarbone. From behind, he could feel that huge cock pressed against his lower back while the thickly muscled arms encompassed them both. The giant's muscles and hard flesh pressed into him from behind, sending shivers up and down his spine, and making his asshole clench the butt plug he was wearing. The massive man rumbled quietly into his ear: "Now, you get what you came for."

He could feel the woman's soft hands slide around his hips, and squeeze his ass. Then, he felt an experimental tug at the butt plug. After teasing it slowly in and out for a few seconds, she took it away, and he could feel his asshole pulse and contract as though looking for a replacement. Next, he could feel wet and slippery fingers slide into his backside, and, at the same time, he felt the large man pull away for a moment.

Finally, he could feel the head of that magnificent cock, slippery with lube, slide between his ass cheeks. It stopped at the opening of his ass for a teasing moment, and then the head slowly pushed inside him. He let out a guttural groan: "Oh, my god...". The stretching feeling subsided after a moment to be replaced with the most glorious feeling of fullness as the divine cock slowly pressed in deeper and deeper. His asshole gave an involuntary squeeze as it slid past his prostate, sending a shiver through his whole body.

Over on his front side, the woman had grabbed his cock in her hands, and was slowly stroking him with a firm grip, licking around the head of his cock on each stroke. Just as the large cock reached his fullest depths, she swallowed his own smaller cock all the way to the base, grinding her nose against his belly. This tore a primal groan loose from deep in his chest which resonated loudly through the chamber.

The two of them quickly went to work on him. The man's arms wrapped around him, squeezing his muscled chest against his back. The cock started sliding slowly in and out right up to his limits on both ends, zinging his prostate on each pass. At the same time, the woman's hands gripped his hips, and her head bobbed in long, matching strokes. The sensations were overwhelming. The man almost couldn't tell what feelings were coming from which side of his body. The sensation was so complete that he felt like he'd become an electric, swelling ball of pure pleasure.

He continued to groan and shout incoherently as the cock raced through him, tracing a throbbing path on its way. At the same time, the woman's expert tongue twirled around the head of his own cock, while she stroked him furiously in time with the pounding he was receiving from behind. It may have been seconds, minutes, or years later when he came explosively into her waiting mouth with a long, deep-throated howl. Almost before he'd quite finished himself, the grunting in his ear changed into a growling groan, and the cock inside him pushed all the way in and started to pulse as the big man reached his own climax.

The woman stood, and pressed herself into him, while laying her head on his shoulder. The giant man pulled all three of them close together, while his cock—still embedded in the man's ass—slowly shrank. All three stood there for several minutes in a sweaty, breathless embrace.

Umbra locked the changing-room door behind the client after showing him back out. Seeing Sulphurette and Noctus chatting further down the hallway—still completely naked—she rushed up to join them.

Seeing Umbra come up, Noctus's limp cock twitched, and he turned to Sulphurette to say: "You know, you could bring her along with you when you make your payment."

"No. She's not for you." Sulphurette snapped back.

"Is that how it is? Fraternizing with your apprentice, huh? Well, perhaps you'll change your mind some day. In the meantime; my room? Tomorrow night? Same time?"

"Fine. Just be sure to wash first. I've seen where you stick that thing." she teased back again.

Noctus laughed loudly as he walked off down the corridor. Sulphurette and Umbra linked arms, and started off in the opposite direction. Umbra was scowling. Finally, she burst out: "Why do you let him treat you like that!? You could eat him alive!"

"Noctus? He's harmless. Annoying, but ultimately harmless. All the Incubi are. Comes from there being so few of them; they all wind up with fat heads."

Umbra sighed. "I used to hate men like him, and now I'm cursed with one in my afterlife as well."

Sulphurette laughed brightly. "Before long, you'll grow into your wings and be able to handle him."

They continued down the hallway a bit further before Umbra asked: "How much do you think he'll actually remember?"

"Mr. Smith?", she chucked. "Oh, he'll remember pretty much all of it. The amnesiac in our saliva is triggered by orgasm, but only just barely if you let them cum normally. To fully activate it, you have to fully drain them. Of course, we can't do that to paying customers... unfortunately." She sighed. "That's what I hate most about working the dungeons. Plus, I almost never get off, myself!"

Umbra's mouth quirked, and she replied: "Oh, you poor thing! Why don't you come upstairs and let me take care of you?"

Sulphurette smiled and pulled her close as they continued down the hall.

Sulphurette Brimstone swore under her breath as she watched the man tear off down the alleyway, holding up his opened pants as he went. There was no catching him as he ran in terror, maybe caused by the pair of sharp horns protruding from her forehead, or perhaps by her huge leathery wings which nearly touched both sides of the narrow alleyway. She snapped her wings shut, snatched her trench coat, and stalked off in the opposite direction.

Umbra Grimesbath heard the heavy steps on the stairs, and bolted upright with a glance at the clock: much too early for the hunt to have ended well. She sprung to her feet, out of the apartment, and down the hall to the outer door. She could hear someone fumbling at the lock just as she arrived, drew back the bolt, and popped the door open.

A tall, broad woman was standing on the outdoor landing, a trench coat draped over her shoulders like a cloak, revealing a silver babydoll with matching panties and heels. Enormous breasts bulged over the top of the straining brassiere, and the gauzy, hanging fabric of the babydoll did little to cover her olive skin overflowing with curves upon curves. Wild, kinky, black hair cascaded halfway down her back and chest, with highlights glinting in the light from the hall.

Being a Succubus herself, Umbra immediately recognized Sulphurette, despite her unfamiliar form. "S-Sulphurette?" she quavered in surprise. And then, with just a glance at her stormy face: "Oh no. What happened?"

Sulphurette growled as she swept into the narrow hall, and then into the apartment, dropping the shoes and coat on the floor as she entered. Umbra wordlessly picked them up and followed her into the small, comfy living room. A small, flat-screen TV was on the opposite wall, showing a recording of a crackling fire. A love seat was facing it to one side of the doorway, and a squashy armchair on the other. A few small tables in the corners held fat red candles, much used, and already burning. Closed doors lead off to the right and left.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Sulphurette exploded. Words tumbled out of her in frustration, hurt, and disappointment. She paced back and forth, silver babydoll and accessories throwing sparks of candlelight all over room.

"Ugh! I can't believe I lost him! He was so into this shape, and already worked up from watching a porno at the sex shop, and I blew it! Now the house mistress will have me Domme'ing in the dungeon for a week. No... that's too good. I deserve to be sitting at a glory hole for twice that long. It's these fucking wings! It's been 400 years, and we're still expected to seduce humans like this."

As she ranted, Umbra quietly dodged around her, (not easy considering her current form) hanging her coat, pouring out a finger of amber liquid from a crystal decanter, and holding it up to Sulphurette as she stormed past. It was taken and drained without a pause. Finally, Sulphurette dropped into the armchair, still growling to herself.

"This is what I do, Umbra—what I have done for centuries—even before all this," she fumed: sweeping a hand to encompass her own body. "I've had kings in my bed! Men do not walk out on me. I must finally be losing my grip. I may as well be one of those pathetic human waifs on the street selling themselves to filthy slobs for pennies."

Umbra knew better than to answer her when Sulphurette was on a rant of this sort. A failed hunt was rare for a Succubus of her experience, but it happened to all of them. Still, the humiliation of it always seemed to sting her as deeply as though it was the first time.

As she fumed to herself, Sulphurette watched as her companion dropped her robe and stood momentarily highlighted by the candlelight. She appeared to be about 20 years old, short and petite with sandy blonde hair and a pretty (but unremarkable), round face. She wore a plain white shift of some light, gauzy material. It only just came to her thighs, and she was obviously naked underneath; her prominent nipples and dark areolae showed clearly through the material. As Sulphurette slumped into moody silence in the chair, her companion knelt submissively in front of her, placing her head in Sulphurette's lap.

Absently, Sulphurette stroked her hair for a while before breaking out of her grumpy reverie and looking down at the sandy blonde curls, and the small glossy wings sprouting from her back: still maturing. A tiny, gentle smile came to her lips as she murmured: "La mia bellissima margherita. my beautiful daisy." She continued to stroke the soft hair, and her pique drained away as she quietly recited ancient-sounding verses in a language which wasn't quite Italian.

Her normal wicked grin flitted over her face as she opened her mind to the young woman's erotic fantasies. All of them centered around a single woman. She had reddish auburn hair, cropped close in fluffy curls about her head, and a face with strong—almost masculine—features. Her figure may have come from a roman sculpture with small, high breasts, round hips, and coloring which was all porcelain and pale pink. Without deliberate intention, Sulphurette's form shifted to match the fantasy: her own body from more than 400 years ago when she was still a mortal woman. At the same time, her lingerie morphed into the same simple shift the girl in kneeling in front of her was wearing.

Feeling the change, the girl lifted her head, and looked up into the older woman's eyes. Quietly, almost reverently, she said: "I love you, Miss Franco."

The last of Sulphurette's anger and worry melted away. Leaning forward, she reached out to caress Umbra's face with both hands. Holding her, Sulphurette stared at her with a look of such fierce tenderness that could only be known by a creature with centuries of love and loss behind her. She brushed Umbra's hair back from her face, and, after contemplating her for a long while, kissed her gently on the forehead and leaned back in the chair again.

With a twinkle in her eyes, and mock sternness in her voice, Sulphurette said: "Dimostralo. Dammi baci. Prove it. Give me kisses.". With the corners of her mouth quirking, the young woman answered, "Yes Mistress," and bent forward to start kissing her toes, then feet, then continuing up her legs. As she did so, her short shift slid up her back, exposing her round bottom to Sulphurette's view. Her breath hitched, and she fought down the urge to lean forward to caress it. Working upwards, the kisses passed her knees, and Umbra slid up Sulphurette's own shift to end her kisses just at the crease of her hips and thighs.

Sulphurette imperiously lifted her arms, looking sternly downwards, still unable to completely suppress the hint of a smile on her face. Standing, the other woman lifted the shift from her body, laying it neatly aside before returning to her kneeling position. Sulphurette slouched down in the chair until her knees spread wide, and her hips were balanced just at the edge of the chair. "Più baci. more kisses," Sulphurette demanded—grinning openly now—indicating her exposed pussy now only inches from the kneeling woman's face.

Umbra's vision was filled with porcelain thighs, and neatly-trimmed, dark hair. Her hands slid slowly along the skin, meeting in the center. Long inner labia extended outward in pink folds, revealing a deeply hooded clit when she gently spread them open.

Kissing first one thigh, then the other, Umbra proceeded to run her tongue slowly from the bottom of the inviting, pink groove to the top, the two forks of her tongue just passing by the clit on either side. She slowly ran her tongue around the opening of the vagina, enjoying the salty, savory, mildly pungent taste before returning her attention upwards.

Ever so gently, she slid her tongue under and around the clit, which had already started to swell and peek out from under its hood. With a few more gentle licks, it had become hard and stuck out prominently: eager for more attention from Umbra's teasing tongue.

Continuing in gradually increasing speed and firmness, Umbra's tongue flickered, licked, and lashed as the hips pressed upwards into her mouth and contented moans emanated from above her head. Her tongue became harder and flickered ever faster, the two sides working in tandem to caress and tease the entire length of head, hood, and shaft. As the moans changed to panting, Umbra felt strong fingers tangle themselves in her hair urgently. Finally, the legs and fingers stiffened while an ecstatic blend of whimper and shriek burst out above her. After long seconds, the thrusting hips gradually slowed, and Umbra felt her lover's body grow limp. Knowing what was expected, she rocked back into her kneeling position and waited.

Twice more, she heard the quiet, imperious, but slightly breathless: "Di nuovo. again". Each time, with a simple: "Yes, Mistress", she repeated her performance, returning each time to her original kneeling position while her lover recuperated for a few moments in between.

After her third orgasm, Sulphurette was feeling limp, contented, and much more herself. Opening her eyes, she could see her partner's pale form kneeling before her in the candlelight. The feeling of tenderness swelled in her again at the sight. Caressing the young face, she said: "Now it's your turn."

Rising from her knees, Umbra disappeared through the door to the right. Lazily, Sulphurette rose and followed.

The sight that followed was enough to make her recently-satisfied nether regions start to swell and tingle all over again. Rising from the bed were two pale thighs crowned by a perfect, round bottom, with nothing else to be seen. A tiny dimpled pucker was on clear display above a thin, glistening line in the slightly puffy flesh. All was perfectly smooth, and almost seemed to glow softly in the dim light. A tiny pearl of liquid slowly dripped from the perfect slit. Sliding open the top drawer of the dresser, Sulphurette contemplated her options.

Umbra was kneeling in her usual position, with her tenderest parts to the door, and her face pressed almost completely into the bedclothes. Her backside tingled in anticipation as she heard a step behind her. Then, there was the rolling scrape of a drawer, and the soft thump of several objects being placed on the dresser. She could feel a tickle as a drop of her own juices crept along her bare skin.

Listening feverishly, she heard a click, and the deep hum of a powerful vibrator for a moment before it went off again. Then, she heard the swish and smack of something striking Sulphurette's palm. All the while, she felt blind and deliciously exposed with her ass and pussy on full display.

The first sensation was hot and warm. Breath, gently exhaled over her cool skin. Next was a soft, warm hand tracing a gentle circle around her ass cheek. Then—in a shocking contrast—a stinging smack on the opposite side from the leather pad of a riding crop. Her pussy, already swelling with desire, pulsed as she gasped in pleasure. Soft caresses covered the smarting skin. Then, smack! Another blow landed on the opposite side. Caresses followed smacks as Umbra's clit tingled, and her pussy oozed more droplets of excited lubrication.

After a few more repetitions, Umbra heard a quick step away, and then back again. A firm, cool object was pressed against the opening of her vagina. In one gentle and irresistible motion, it slid deep inside her. It was long, thick, and perfectly smooth. She could feel it bump past her cervix and nestle firmly as deep as she could take it. She couldn't help but grip it with her pussy and eagerly wait for what came next.

She didn't have long to wait before the deep humming sounded again behind her: much closer this time. Trying not to twitch in anticipation, she could almost feel it coming closer. Then, long expected, but somehow still a shock, there was a firm pressure and a strong buzz just over her clit. The suddenness of it made her almost feel like she would climax right then. But, a moment later, it was gone.

The humming moved off to one side, and tickled her thigh, first on one side, and then the other. Then, she could feel it trace a circle over her bottom, then down to her knees, and slowly—so slowly!—back up the line between her legs. This time, it barely brushed her labia just over the clit and hung in place ever so lightly. Umbra could feel the tingles building as the dildo started to move ever so slightly in and out, gently stretching her back wall and rubbing her cervix: just as she liked best.

She whimpered softly as she twitched and tensed her muscles around the dildo, trying to press her clit harder against the buzzing vibe only to find it fade away each time she tried. It was just barely not enough. It was a teasing tickle which brought her just to the outside edge of orgasm, and held her there for endless tantalizing minutes. A quiet litany of "please, please, please," escaped her in barely audible gasps.

Finally, she felt the vibe shift a bit and kick up to a higher setting. Panting gasps mixed with urgent, shuddering whines coming faster and faster as her orgasm crept closer. She clenched down on the dildo still just barely moving inside her. With unendurable slowness, the sensations transitioned from an endlessly swelling buzz to a feeling of inevitable, pending arrival, and finally she cried out loud as the waves of pulsing bliss exploded through her pelvis.

Sulphurette watched as Umbra writhed on the bed in front of her, convulsing in an orgasm which was over twenty minutes in arriving. Once she had calmed to mere twitching, Sulphurette retrieved the dildo and put aside the toys to clean up later.

Pausing before climbing into bed, she watched the small form for a moment and reflected how this newly made Succubus had become so much a part of her so quickly. She'd had lovers among the Succubi before, but in her many years, never one she'd thought of as a wife.

Climbing up, she curled herself around the petite woman—now purring softly—who cuddled back unto her soft body: delicate wings tucking up tight between Sulphurette's breasts. Sulphurette's wingtip reached out to flip the light switch, and then stretched out to cover them both. She quietly recited verses as they both enjoyed the satisfied afterglow of orgasms, home, and love.

The club was once part of some kind of factory building. It was all open brick, metal girders, and support beams. The bulk of the room was dedicated to a sunken dance floor: more of a pit, really. The DJ was directly across, and the bar along the right-hand wall. An antique, spiral staircase wound up to a balcony made of an open metal grill. It was one of his favorite features of the place: particularly when daring girls in their short skirts would hang out up there giving everyone a nice view down below. The balcony wound around the outer wall, ending at the old main office with its enormous bank of windows looking out over the whole place.

At the moment, though, it was hardly the quiet, dignified workplace it had once been. The DJ was spinning some techno / electronica at ear-splitting volume, and a combination of lasers, spotlights, and mood lights created a wildly flashing tapestry of color spinning over every surface. The dance floor was packed with surging bodies grinding against one another and gyrating to the beat.

He decided he wasn't "lubricated" enough for that, and headed over to the bar to get a drink.

Sulphurette Brimstone was the only one up on the balcony that night. She saw the man come in, and her eyes sparkled as she sized him up. He was few inches over six foot tall, slender, and had inky black skin which was iridescent in the multi-colored glow of the club's lights. His suit was sharp, with a burgundy shirt open a few buttons below the collar, revealing just a bit of his lean chest. His head was shaven, and he had a silver stud in one ear with a gleaming ruby set in it.

Grinning, she decided that he was going to be tonight's prey. Opening her mind to his subconscious, she was titillated by his adventurous sexual imagination. He was most deeply aroused by memories of wild times on a trip to Norway, and her body morphed unconsciously to the very image of Nordic perfection.

He was standing at the rail overlooking the dance floor, sipping at his drink. She reversed her mild telepathic flow to gently push the idea of getting a better view from balcony.

Drink in hand, he turned around, looking for a conquest. He hadn't gotten laid since he'd broken up with his girlfriend, and he was keen to fix that tonight. Despite it being empty, it suddenly occurred to him that there'd be a better view up on the balcony.

As he got to the top, he saw that it wasn't empty after all. A tall woman was leaning against the far wall. She was wearing a huge, baggy hoodie with the hood pulled up over her head. It hung down past her waist, so all he could see was that she had shiny white stockings outlining legs that seemed to go on for miles before finding a pair of stylishly worn-out chucks on her feet. She must have been nearly as tall as he was, and—judging from her legs—built like one of those Norwegian supermodels he'd seen doing a bikini shoot on that trip last summer. Blonde hair streamed out of the hood, framing her pale face. Icy blue eyes matched the pale blue of her lipstick and fingernails.

Seeing him crest the stairs, she smiled at him, and nodded toward the door of the old office at the far end of the balcony. With a wink, she crooked a finger at him, and walked over to the door marked "employees only". Ignoring the sign, she disappeared inside with one last beckoning finger over her shoulder.

He'd come to hook up, and this seemed like an excellent opportunity! He eagerly dodged around the unoccupied tables and chairs to follow her into the office. When he had closed the door behind him and turned around, she was right next to him: almost pressed up against him.

He was tall, but they were nearly eye to eye. She immediately started kissing him lustily, and it didn't take long for him to join in. He was a little startled to feel that she must have had her tongue split. But, it was all cool; these crazy chicks with weird body mods were usually super hot in bed. Without breaking contact, she pulled him deeper into the room past dusty chairs, upturned tables stacked on one another, and old sound equipment to arrive at a cleared table near the back of the room. He was getting curious about what was under that huge hoodie, so when she stopped, he reached out to push back her hood.

She had horns.

Two sharp little horns extended an inch or two out of her forehead, and they looked real. The nascent bulge in his pants immediately deflated a bit, and he retreated a few steps in confusion, stumbling over something in his haste. Maybe this was taking the body mods a bit far. She held up one finger and reached for the zipper at her throat. In one jerk, she pulled it all the way down and let the hoodie hang open.

Underneath, she was wearing silky lingerie in pure white. A lacy bandeau-style bra covered the nubs of her breasts, and a garter belt rode high over her prominent hip bones. The lights from the club below flashed garish colors over the intricate geometric patterns tattooed all over her chest and belly. The garter straps lead down to the tops of the thigh-high stockings covering her endless legs. She wasn't wearing any panties. Her pussy was shaved and compact: just a smooth line in the flesh. A clit ring flashed in the club lights just below the small remaining tuft of yellow hair covering her mound.

The horns started to seem like no big deal as all the blood rushed from one head to the other.

Sulphurette could smell his lust from across the balcony as he reached the top of the staircase. He was tall and lean, but still attractively built. She'd used this club before, and knew that no one would bother them in the back room, so she'd already prepared a perfect spot. She could feel the slippery dampness between her legs increase as she beckoned him over.

Slipping into the back room, she turned to kiss him hungrily as soon as the door was closed. Her tongue slid into his gasping mouth and savored the wild excitement she could taste on him. His urgency only fueled her own, and she tugged him backward through the cluttered room to the place she'd gotten ready.

Then, then damned fool nearly blew it by knocking off her hood before she'd quite gotten him under her spell. She could sense his fear starting to override his lust, so she wrenched open her zipper and flashed her new body with all its long, lean beauty and inky decoration. As one second passed, and then a few more, and she could feel the surge of his ardor returning.

Stepping forward, she sank down and snapped open the front of his pants. His cock was long—longer than any she'd had for some time—and thin for the length. Stacking both hands along its length, she slowly took him into her mouth. She heard him moan a few words of encouragement, and she stroked him with long smooth motions while the two forks of her tongue slid up, around, and over the head of his cock in corkscrew motions. She could feel the spongy flesh rapidly harden and lengthen as small drops of fluid started to flow from the tip.

His concerns dissipated as her hot mouth covered his cock. He definitely started coming around on that split tongue as she used it like two slippery fingers teasing and tantalizing his glans. She abruptly stopped, and as he opened his eyes to look down, he could see her sharp, Nordic features looking up at him as she reached into the pocket of her hoodie. A moment later, she had a small bottle in her hand, and she was pouring lube onto his cock. With a few quick movements, he was standing stiffly to attention and glistening in the laser light.

Standing, and shrugging her shoulders, the hoodie dropped to the floor, exposing even more tattooed skin all the way up to her shoulders and half-way down her arms. Her delicate frame seemed etherial and unreal; even more so when the huge, leathery wings stretched out behind her. He nearly bolted. This was too much—hotness aside—there had to be a limit... but then she turned around.

She leaned over the table—the wings fanned out of the way—and he could see a glistening butt-plug nestled in the pale curve of her ass. It was silver with a ruby set into it: the exactly like his own earring, but a lot larger. The bare slit of her pussy glistened with her juices just underneath. Looking back over her shoulder, she licked her lips and waved her ass sinuously back and forth while she pulled out the plug. Winking at him from her top and her bottom, she crooked a finger at him once more.

She could see that he was completely under her control now as he moved forward to take her. He was obviously experienced with anal play as he absently picked up the bottle of lube and added a little extra to her hole, teasing a finger—and then another—inside her. It was well that she had prepared herself; even so, she could feel the stretch as he placed his cock at her asshole and pushed gently. A few gentle retreats and advances later, he slipped inside.

With the right cock, anal was amazing. Long and lean was perfect. She could feel him slowly press inch after inch inside. Reaching between her legs, she slid her finger between her smooth outer lips to find the clit hidden deep inside. Already slick with lube, her fingers began to tease herself in time with his long, slow strokes.

She was delighted with this evening's pick: he was clearly an anal connoisseur. Starting slow, he moved gently a little farther in with each stroke, and then almost all the way back out: adding lube on each stroke until everything was delightfully smooth and slick. Reaching back, she pulled at his butt, urging him to go faster, and thrust harder. Soon, he was pumping deep enough to reach that perfect spot at the end of every thrust. The most delightful bruising started to form deep inside her as her fingers alternated between flicking over the tiny nubbin of her clit, and dipping quickly into her of pussy to reach around to her g-spot. It was good that the music was so loud because she couldn't control her shrieks from the intense pounding of her ass combined with her own manipulations of pussy and clit.

It wasn't long before she couldn't restrain herself any longer. With her free hand, she pulled him deep inside while her other hand brought her over the edge. Clenching her ass hard, rippling waves filled her belly while her clit throbbed. Her orgasm was short, but so, so intense.

Being no stranger to anal sex (giving and receiving), the man blessed his good fortune at coming to the club tonight. Not wanting to hurt her, he started slow, but she clearly was no novice either. Before long, he was thrusting wildly as she bore down on him in time with his motion. The tight grip at her opening contrasted with the soft, smooth walls deeper inside. He'd almost never been able to really let go during sex for fear of hurting his parter, but she seemed unconcerned. Then, when she started cumming, she pulled him all the way in: something he'd never seen a girl do before. She seemed infinitely deep: able to take the whole length of him and more. She arched her back, pressing into him hard, and the wings—which he hadn't noticed for a while—stretched out to their full width and shivered as she froze in ecstasy.

It was almost too much for him. When she began to relax, he started to pump again: more gently, but building up the pace again. Just as he was getting close, she tucked in her wings and used them to push him away. Turning about, her eyes glowed red (laser light?), and she sunk down to her knees on her hoodie and grabbed his cock still dripping with lube. Bringing him close, she pumped him furiously with both hands, aiming the tip directly at her open mouth. In moments, he couldn't hold back, and, with his cry unheard in all the din, let himself go into his own orgasm. Jet after jet spurted out of his cock directly into her mouth. It was long and intense—more than he'd ever cum before—and he couldn't stop. On and on it went, until he started to get light-headed. He reached down to support himself on a tall amplifier next to him momentarily before slumping down to the floor, unconscious.

Sulphurette tugged her hoodie out from under the prone form, thinking it was too bad that Succubi can't use the same male more than once every few years. This one would have been amazing to keep around. Tucking her wings, and pulling her hoodie back on, she left him breathing softly under a table in the back room. As she descended the staircase back into the noise and chaos of the club, she smiled at feeling a little tickle of lube leaking down her stocking.

The man stopped short in the pool of light two street lamps away.  At that distance, all he could see was a silhouette.  It was late, past 2AM, and he was on his guard.  The figure didn't look intimidating, but a gun levels the playing field pretty effectively.  With a slight quaver, he asked: "Can I help you?"

The other figure didn't answer.

Instead, it took a single step into the edge of the light. It was a woman: naked except for blazing red lingerie, smokey black stockings, and gleaming, high-heeled pumps.  The stockings ended in a band of lace just a few inches below the curve her panties made disappearing between her legs.

She was short and slender with small, high breasts, and gently rounded hips. The dark areolae peeked out just above the shelf of the brassiere, while the thin straps of the panties stretched up and over the rounded crests of her hip bones.  Her skin was smooth and tan, even in the glare of the streetlamp. Smooth black hair, parted perfectly to a crisp white line, flowed around her head in two curtains which glistened in the light.  The two small horns curled up from just in front of the temples.  As the head tilted back, a woman's face came into view.  Her skin was a light chai color, with delicate features which hinted at a vaguely Asian heritage without being clearly anything in particular.  Large dark eyes were fixed on the man, while her small mouth curved up at the corners.

As she stepped into the center of the lamp light, glossy leathern wings stretched up from behind her back and lifted back into the shadows.

The man's most primal urges surged through his brain.  This apparition seemed to have walked out of his most erotic dreams, and his most horrifying nightmares.  She matched his innermost image of the perfect woman: from the cut of her hair, to the exact shade of her skin, and even the precise blend of curves and toned muscles he found most irresistible.  But the huge leathern wings and wicked horns made it clear that this was no human woman.  Adrenaline and testosterone coursed through his beleaguered brain fighting for control as he stood there, knees quivering, while a hard lump formed in his pants.

Sulphurette Brimstone was ravenous, and the distant footsteps immediately got her full attention.  Even as he passed from light to dark under the row of street lamps, her eyes were quite capable of seeing in what humans considered deep darkness.  He wasn't exceptional, but he did have a long, vigorous stride: which was promising for her purposes.

She relaxed and let the sensual traces of his subconscious tickle her mind.  A wash of erotic images flitted past her inner sight, as she deftly noticed the patterns of what most titillated this man. Creamy, chai-colored skin; small, high breasts; dark, bobbed hair; subtly Asian features...  The details of Sulphurette's appearance morphed rapidly as a definite pattern started to emerge from the man's most ardent fantasies.  She lightly brushed her clit through the fabric of her panties in anticipation.

Succubi can't change into any shape, but they certainly can adapt themselves to whatever form their victims find most arousing. And Sulphurette was uncommonly good at it.

The freakish woman started to walk towards him, allowing her hips to swing slowly side to side. She disappeared out of the cone of light created by her streetlamp, heading in his direction.  With her figure out of sight, his hormones started to tip from arousal to fear when she suddenly materialized in the pool of light cast by the streetlamp just above him.  Up close, she was even more alluring. Her face was heart-shaped, with huge eyes, rounded cheeks, and a small, pointed chin.  A wicked grin was barely noticeable on her lips.  Her nipples where obvious: straining through the thin satin and lace.  He noticed a dry, floral scent on the air as she drew closer.

The man's breath caught as she reached up a hand to touch his cheek.  Her other hand had reached down and was tracing the shape of the pronounced bulge in his pants. He gasped ever so slightly as her fingers found the tip and teased the ridge around the head.

He didn't dare touch her; he didn't dare run.

She advanced a step, pressing herself into him, and forcing him backward out of the circle of light into a darkened doorway.  Her hands never left his body as they touched his chest and kneaded his pants. His heart was racing as his back touched against the locked door behind him in the darkest part of the shadow.

Sulphurette reached down to unbuckle the man's belt with one hand while keeping up a steady pressure with the other.  She could hear his breath already starting to come in gasps with just the preliminaries, and she was excited by the smell of his arousal.  She reached inside his pants and pulled out his cock and balls.  It was already hard and twitching, not especially long, but satisfyingly stocky. She wrapped her hand around the shaft and, gripping hard, slid the skin up and down along its length.  She smiled as he moaned slightly, and thrust his hips forward into her hand.

Sliding down so she was level with her prize, she slid her tongue along the underside of the shaft, the two forks of her tongue each sliding along both sides.  The first taste was salty with sweat, but nothing worse. As the two parts of her tongue reached the head, they curled around under the ridge, eliciting another shuddering, inhaled gasp from above her.  Grasping the shaft firmly in one hand, she moved forward and took it halfway into her mouth: right up to her fist. Squeezing and rolling her tongue all the way around the head brought a guttural groan from the man above.

She loved the feeling of power it gave her to have his most tender parts at her mercy. Even more so that her skills made him unable to even imagine having it any other way.  She slid her mouth up and down his cock, keeping a light pressure with her lips and tongue, and a firm pressure with her hand.  He became less controlled with his moans as she teased and stroked him.  The grin which couldn't quite fit on her mouth lit up her eyes instead as he let himself drift further under her sway.

The man was lost in ecstasy as his cock throbbed and buzzed under the strange woman's continued attentions.  He'd had blowjobs in the past, but nothing like this.  The obvious relish this incredible person had for it was intoxicating, as was her mastery of technique.  The exquisite balance of teasing to the head, stroking to the shaft, and small pauses to hold him off showed a skill he'd never imagined experiencing.  She brought him right to the edge over and over, and then shifted her pattern just enough that he never quite was able to cum.  It was tantalizing, and immensely pleasurable.

All at once, it stopped.

He opened his eyes to see her nearly face-to-face with him again, barely visible in the glow from the street.  She was wearing a huge grin, and a delicately forked tongue slid over her lips.  Looking down in the dim light, his eyes took in the small bulges of her breasts in their shimmering satin casing, and the long smooth expanse of her stomach as it tapered to a smooth curve of bare skin between her legs.  A gleaming puddle of satin on the doorstep showed that her panties had been discarded while he was blissfully occupied.

Her hand was still locked around his cock as she winked and extended one leg up in an impossible-seeming split to rest on the doorframe.  Her wings tucked behind her, supporting her against the far side of the doorway.  Pulling gently, she guided his cock toward her pussy.  She slid the head along the smooth, slick inside of her lips, teasing her clit with the tip of him.  He could feel her shudder slightly as a brief grin crossed over her face, and she guided him inside her.

Sulphurette's clit was long, pronounced, and hard with excitement.  After covering him thoroughly with her own natural lube, she used the head of his cock to pleasure herself until the buzzing excitement had spread all around her opening, and she couldn't resist the urge to grip down on something.  Sliding him downwards, she flexed her wings and rolled her hips forward to push herself onto him.

She sighed, as she relished that first moment of penetration.  Deliciously firm, but with a slight yield as she gripped inside.  The hand which had been holding his cock now moved up to slide along her clit as he began to slowly thrust deeper inside her of his own accord.  He wasn't long enough to really stretch her depths, but he was more than thick enough to set her insides glowing with a warm pressure as his pace quickened.  Without thinking, her flickering fingers kept pace as he thrust faster: seeming to approach his own climax as his groans shifted to grunts, and his long, slow thrusts become more urgent.

Sulphurette's hand blurred as she could feel her own orgasm fast approaching.  Reaching out with her other hand, she dug her fingers into his lower back, pulling him deep inside her, and holding him fast.  Another second, and her buzzing clit set fire to her entire pelvis as wave after wave of delightful spasms rolled through her.

The man was lost in the mounting tide of urgent need.  He could feel the growing electric excitement in the head of his penis, and the swelling in his balls as he got closer and closer.  From the moment he'd first penetrated her, she had maintained a grip on his cock that he could scarcely believe.  Smooth, slick, warm, and as strong as a fist.  Her constant low whimpers of pleasure shot through him and aroused him all the more.  Soon, he could feel that he would cum inside her.

Then, a small prick of pain, and he was yanked forward and pinned against her while she closed her eyes, and her mouth sagged open.  Shudder after shudder ran through her small body as he could feel the waves of pulsing grip on his cock tighten and relax.  Soon, she opened her eyes as a beatific smile crossed her face.  After a moment, she slid off him. With a dangerous grin, she dropped down again grabbing his dripping cock in her hand.  This time, she was almost violent as she took him into her mouth again.  Hands on his hips, she guided him into a quick rhythm which quickly made up for the brief pause.

He was close.  The muscles in his legs involuntarily stiffened as she continued to slide her mouth aggressively up and down his cock.  Then, release.  Like throwing the switch of some huge circuit, the buzzing tension in the head of his penis spilled over and expanded across his entire body.  She grabbed his hips and pulled him forward until she had almost his entire cock in her mouth.  It was glorious.

Until... it wasn't.  He couldn't stop cumming.  As he tried to pull back, he could feel her nails dig into his butt through his pants, and her teeth pinch tight around his cock.  The waves of pleasure keep coursing through him, as jet after jet of fluid coursed through his cock and into her mouth.  Trembling lead to shaking, and his vision rapidly closed from a tunnel to a pin prick. Then he passed out.

Sulphurette let the unconscious form slump down inside the doorway. Stooping, she slid her panties back on.  Her full belly—plus the warm glow in her pussy and the tingling of her clit—brought a satisfied smirk to her lips. High heels clicking on the pavement, she left the limp figure in the doorway and vanished back into the dark city.