The Succubus

He was rich, and old, and used to having his way. He'd become so bored lately that even his daring - and successful, of course - acquisition of the Plum's exclusive stores had given no excitement.

His brother had been excited. And angry. Charles had been competing against elder brother Edgar, again, but Edgar had gambled, and struck, and now Plum's was his.

Edgar should have been gloating. Should have been sipping champagne, lovely young ladies filling his glass, while grinning at the sulking Charles.

But Edgar was sitting in a soft leather recliner, staring at the city. Wondering, what was the point? If there was no longer excitement, no longer gloating, no more rubbing it in to Charles - what was the point? Where was the joy? the zest?

Edgar sighed. Charles had entered his office half an hour ago, prepared to play his role of silky loser, knowing that he would best Edgar on the next deal. It was what they did. Right?

Except Edgar wasn't playing. He wasn't doing anything but staring, and sighing, and looking bored.

This gloom continued for several days until Charles returned to the office, finding his brother staring at a wall this time.

"Enough," Charles said, and he prodded until Edgar admitted that yes, he was bored. He felt old

Charles suggested an affair. That had always worked in the past, for both brothers. Their wives were understanding. The affairs meant nothing. It was all perfectly acceptable, in their social circle.

But even this did not raise Edgar from the doldrums, and Charles left.

Two days later, though, Charles returned unexpectedly.

"Brother!" he said gleefully, puffing a little. He had walked a little too quickly. They were both overweight, indulging in food as in all things. Charles wiped his forehead and plopped onto the sofa. "I have gotten you the perfect gift!"

Edgar frowned. He was in no mood for silliness or gifts. But Charles was bouncing on the edge of his seat, and he only did that when he truly had something remarkable. Charles continued, "And, do you still have your pills?"

"I told you, I'm not interested in an affair," Edgar snapped. The blue pills had been exciting, then. But nothing really excited him any more. Not in life. Not in his groin.

Charles shook his head. "I mean ALL of the pills, Eddie."

"Don't call me that." But - ALL of them. He looked at Charles, who nodded eagerly.

Oh. Oh my.

All of them. The ones that caused the hardness.

The others that prolonged it. The ones that forged his penis, and made him nearly crazed with lust.

All of them, he'd said. Edgar looked at Charles, who was grinning now, bouncing, and so pleased.

Edgar leaned forward.

"I have all of them, yes. What kind of gift do you mean?" and for the first time in months, Edgar felt interest.

*******

One evening a week later, Charles returned to Edgar's office. With him was a young lady, who brought with her a suitcase. She was dressed simply and modestly, and Edgar felt disappointment. Charles, however, showed her to Edgar's opulent bathroom and left her there, closing the door. He turned to Edgar, rubbing his hands. "Well?"

"She looks like she just came from Sunday School," Edgar growled. He felt tired and old again and like kicking his brother. Charles shook his head.

"Give her a moment," he began, but they both heard the bathroom door ooen, and their eyes widened. Edgar gripped the arms of his chair.

Beautiful.

Erotic.

She was petite. He already had seen that. Beautiful thick black hair, cut in an angled bob that bounced and swung gently as she moved. Her eyes were dark and slightly tilted; her skin was smooth and pale; her small mouth and full lips a pointy red. Around her throat, a golden choker.

Her upper body, well. She wore a short black leather jacket with three-quarters sleeves, but the jacket had never been made to close. Her naked breasts were so full that Edgar wondered briefly if they were real, then decided he didn't care. Her nipples were a deep rose, alert and lifted and eager, and the woman lifted her arms over her head and clasped her hands together, arching her back. No, Edgar didn't care if they were real or not. She smiled at him, with half-dozen eyes, and he felt excitement. "Brother," he breathed, and looked further.

Her waist was tiny, encircled by a fine gold chain. Her hips were slender, and as she slowly turned at Charles' motion, Edgar could see that her bottom was firm and rounded, just right for his hands, his! to hold and - he swallowed. She had no underwear. And she had no pubic hair, he saw. Charles noticed where Edgar's eyes were. "Show him," he growled at her, and she adjusted her stance so her legs were further apart.

And then - Edgar's eyes grew wider - she slowly leaned back, and back, from the hips, until her fingertips touched the floor behind her, and her back was arched, her legs open and free to Edgar to touch, if he wished.

And he did wish. He reached out one hand, slowly, until the tips of his own fingers brushed against her mound, then slid up and back, over her clit, until she shivered a little. She was a little damp, he noticed, and he smiled, looking at Charles.

"Stand back up," said Edgar, and to his surprise, she obeyed. He took in the rest of her: black lacy hose, coming just above her knees. Little black leather boots, ending just above her ankles. He suddenly saw that her wrists and ankles each bore a black leather cuff, with various rings embedded. He looked at Charles, then at her.

"And who is this?" he asked Charles.

"She's your gift," said his brother. "You can name her what you want."

She was of age, Charles went on, barely. Charles turned her this way and that, and she never said a word, only smiling and looking at Edgar with wicked, promising eyes. She had been trained, Charles said, very well trained, and she could introduce Edgar to many pleasures. Charles was currently searching for his own succubus, though they were rare and very, very expensive. Still, Charles always wanted what his brother had, so Edgar felt certain it would not be long before there were two succubi owned in the family. They were the rich man, and woman's, new plaything, bred by science, but trained by only the most skilled in sexual pleasures diverse and unusual. They were in high demand, with natural bodies genetically modified only to increase their good looks and appeal.

There was just enough genetic modification that they did not quite have human status yet, though surely it was only a matter of time before the laws were changed.

Edgar looked at her, still standing, still sultry and waiting. His lips curled into a smile.

And until the laws were changed, she was his.

"Thank you, brother," he whispered, and Charles clapped him on the back, making some comment, but Edgar was already reaching for his pills.

All of them.

******

At the next meeting a few days later, three women and two men entered Edgar's smaller board room, to find him beaming at them. At his side was the young woman, still clad only in her two-brief jacket and her half-boots, the lacy black of her thigh hose drawing attention to the lameness of her skin, and the lack of clothes. Each of the board members stated, as they sat. They knew what she was, and what she was for. One of the women kicked her lips and stared until Edgar laughed and said, "Alice, do you want to touch her?" Alice said nothing, but swallowed; Edgar motioned for the succubus to go to Alice, who blushed and looked away. The young woman smiled and took Alice's hand, slender and aged and heavy with rings, and the succubus opened her jacket further, and moved Alice's hand to cup the full breast.

The room was quiet as Alice sat, her hand full of the smaller woman's breast. For a moment, Alice looked stunned, and shy, but then her thumb gently brushed the girl's nipple, then did it again. When the young woman's eyes drifted nearly closed, she arched her back a little, thrusting her breast more firmly into Alice's eager hand. Startled, Alice suddenly leaned forward and took the nipple into her mouth, sucking gently. The succubus out a hand on the back of Alice's head, pushing the mouth closer, so it could hold more of the nipple. The girls eyes were fully closed now, her head back, breasts thrust up and out, and Alice grabbed her by the waist, pulling her closer still, and the girl's breath hissed. Alice pulled back a little, the nipple held by her teeth, biting, her tongue kicking, then the lips closing again to suckle. The girl whimpered a little, and Alice, half-time now from lust, jumped from her chair and ran to the bathroom. The girl turned to Edgar then, who smiled and waved her back to him.

"Damn, Edgar. When did you get one of them?" said Elliott. The man had been panting. Wait until he saw what was next, Edgar thought.

"My dear brother have her to me as a gift." Edgar patted his lap and nodded at her. He had taken his pills - all of them - before the meeting. This would be something new for him, and that excited him.

The meeting room door was locked, of course. He didn't intend to try this in front of everyone. But he and Charles had discussed this and felt it couldn't hurt to show that the old chairman of the board, Edgar, still had what it takes.

So he patted his lap, and the succubus came closer, and waited. Edgar unzipped his pants, and her eyes watched as he slid out his thick penis. It almost hurt, now, it had grown and pulsed in time with his heart.

"Face them," he ordered, and she obeyed, sliding a leg on either side of his knees, facing his gaping, aroused board members. Edgar mashed down the arms of his chair, and she inched backwards, a leg on each side of his thighs. God, he was rock hard and so ready. But he wanted to show them, he had control, and power, and he knew how to build anticipation.

His long, pudgy fingers slid to her crotch, fingering her clit, inserting a thick finger inside her. He noticed Elliott rubbing his own crotch, and Edgar slowly, slowly, used his fat fingers to reach, reach, down between her legs, and grasp the lips, his fingers kneading, feeling her growing wetter. He pulled the lips apart suddenly, stretching them, showing the others what he had, what he owned, and what they could not have. They were leaned forward, mesmerized, like animals eyeing a piece of meat, but it was his meat, his.

He flipped his hands suddenly so that his thumbs pressed the labia out, but his palms and fingers now held her bottom. They now spread her anus, and he sharply hissed "Sit!" and she plunged down, his penis ramming between his now shaking hands, and she cried out. He groaned, thrusting up inside her, now holding her waist firmly down as he pushed up, deep inside her, then let his hips lower, only to quiver and shove up again, over and over, until he released and felt the stickiness sliding out of her and onto him. Excited again, he abruptly stood, holding her arm, and dragged towards the bathroom. Alice was just leaving and stood back as they went in. She stared at the others, and they stared back. No one said a word.

In the bathroom, Edgar told the succubus to sit on the counter, and that he was going to clean her. She sat, and he pulled her hips almost to the edge of the counter. Then he pushed her back until she lay on her back, and he placed a rolled towel under her so her hips and mound were arched up, her thighs angled over the end of the counter, her knees bent, feet dangling. He could see that she might slide off.

Impatiently, he reached down and jerked at his belt until it came free, his pants falling down about his ankles. "I'll be better prepared next time," he told, as her eyes watched. He kicked at his pants and shoes until they slung across the floor, and he grabbed her wrists, bringing them together and holding them with one hand. He looked around. The faucet.

The faucet was elaborate, and more importantly, sturdy. He bound her wrists with his long belt, blessing his wife girth. He wrapped the other end of the belt to the faucet, and pulled. No good. That was only going to bring her hips back into the counter.

His penis was angry with him, quivering and twitching and doing a mad little dance of frenzied lust. Edgar wished he was better prepared.

But then he looked at the faucet again, and smiled. His wife Myrtice had picked it out, and...He rummaged in a drawer...yes! His wife had a few things in here, as well. He smiled.

The counter was a lovely, oversized, heavy piece, an antique, and it had six thick, sturdy stubby legs. Two were in the middle of the old piece, one in front, the other parallel in back. He'd always wondered why. Now he rejoiced.

The drawer held several pairs of pantyhose. Myrtice was always snagging them.

He pulled the succubus' legs wide, moved her hips back to the edge of the antique counter, then widened the legs further until one was on each side. He then tied each ankle to a middle, stubby leg, thought about, and added another towel beneath the girl's hips. It looked painful. He noticed, though, the glistening around the labia, and shook his finger at her.

"You naughty whore." His penis jerked again, and Edgar quickly went back to her wrists. He jerked open her jacket wider, admiring the full breasts. The nipples were enlarged and a dark rose now. He punched one, hard, twisting it. She moaned. Edgar grabbed his belt, wrapping it around the base of the faucet. This had better hold. He was frantic now, and he pulled her on the strap, until her belly grew flatter, then dipped in, and her breasts were even more lifted and full. He tied off the belt and could see that it was awkward for her to breathe. He ran a hand down her belly, pleased when she sucked in a breath. He toyed with her clit for a moment, until it, too, grew and shook in little quivers. He pressed on it, rubbing, until she began to lift her hips into it. He stopped, and grinned.

"You're a regular little slut, aren't you? I bet if I let everyone out there come in here and have a turn with you, you'd still be eager for more. Wouldn't you?"

She looked at him and only panted. He leaned over her. "I think that's what I'll do," he whispered. He stood up. "But not yet."

He laid his penis on her breasts, and rubbed it back and forth. But it only made him harder and didn't satisfy, which made him angry. He searched the drawer again and pulled out rubber bands. He pulled up a nipple as high as he could, then slid a rubber over it to its base, twisting and rewrapping the band until the nipple was swollen and red and tender. He did the same to the other nipple, thought, then tried it with the clit. That was slippery and more difficult. He would have to ask Charles for suggestions. In the meantime - the drawer yielded a few hair barrettes, and he grinned. He removed the band and tossed it in the floor. He was enjoying himself, he found. He pulled the woman's clit up, then snapped the barrette in place. It squeezed the clit and dug into flesh on each side. The girl was squirming. He ran a finger over the bulging too of the clit, and she moaned and pushed up. "Not so fast."

He grabbed the two largest barrettes, unsure if this would work. But he pulled and rugged and managed finally to one around each of the labia.

The girl was very wet now, moaning, and pulling at the belt and stockings. He slid a finger along the top of each lip, swelling out over each barrette. He could tell it was hurting. And yet, she was also writhing and trying her best to push herself into his hand. He grinned at her.

And then he plunged forward, diving into her, pushing as hard as he could in, pulling out more, and more, then racing into her again. He kept pushing and shoving into her until he spilled out and yelled, and he stayed inside her, resting his head on her belly. Inside her, he felt himself growing again, and he thanked the pills, and Charles. This time, while he was inside her, he used his thumbs to push down hard on the barrettes until one broke, just as she orgasmed. He tested a moment, then pulled out. He pulled off the remaining barrettes slowly, amused when it caused her to orgasm again.

"You can't help yourself, can you? You really are a little whore." He stroked her belly, cupped her breasts, playing with the nipples. He finally removed the rubber bands. The nipples were swollen, as were the clit and labia. He smoothed his hand down her body, then up again, then reached for his pants, dressing slowly as he looked at her. When he was done, he opened the door. Everyone had gone, he thought, then noticed Elliott. The man was sprawled in a chair, his fly open. He looked up when Edgar walked in.

Edgar shook his head. "Feel better?"

"Well not really. Sorry. I'll go now."

Edgar shook his head. "No need to be sorry. Besides," and he sat in his large recliner. "She's still ready. Why don't you go in there."

Elliott stared at him, then at the door. Back at Edgar. He licked his lips. "You're joking, right"? But his eyes were pleading.

"Nope. Not joking." Edgar stood. "I'm going to order up something to eat." He nodded at the door. "Take all the time you want."

He smiled and went to his desk to place his order. He heard his bathroom door shut.

He smiled. What wonderful ideas he had, for next time.

Life was exciting again.