Succubi fall under the Cambian classification of demons. Which is to say that they're actually half demons. Spawn of a twisted union between man and beast. This is largely irrelevant. Their demonic traits overwhelm any humanity within. Do not squander compassion or mercy upon them. I bring this fact to your attention only because Cambians are unique among demons for their ability to dream. In the waking world, one's aura can be strengthened. Reinforced by will and discipline. In the realm of sleep, however, it is diminished. There, succubi stalk our nightmares.
-Sir Arthur Thompson, The Demonic Archive
Amy lay in her bed, on her side atop the covers, wearing only underwear. Nothing like her usual modest garments though. All smoky black and trimmed with floral lace. Panties with tapering waistbands that emphasized her wide hips. A pushup bra that squeezed her prominent breasts together until they nearly spilled from the cups, creating a deep valley of cleavage. A garter belt was cinched around her waist, and clipped to semi-transparent stockings tight enough that her thighs swelled out where the compression ended.
She was in her room, but it was off. Key details were missing. Her bag was in the wrong spot, and the laptop she'd fallen asleep with was nowhere to be seen. Her minimalist alarm clock was replaced by the analog one she had used as a kid. Cheap blue plastic with old-fashioned bell ringers. Behind its glow-in-the-dark hands was a star chart. The edges of the room shifted and blurred. As if she was on a small island of reality surrounded by fog. Eventually, the island would begin to shrink as the fog closed in and swallowed reality with chaos. Just as It did every night before.
A mirror manifested on the wall nearest to her and she studied herself. The lingerie revealed all the parts of herself that she loathed. Her too-thick thighs. Her soft stomach. Her oversized chest. She could feel that the panties did nothing to hide the round flesh of her buttocks.
You're so beautiful.
In reality, Amy would be mortified by her appearance. Here, she felt only a whisper of embarrassment. It was drowned out by an uncharacteristic sense of pride that suddenly filled her. She realized she wasn't wearing her usual glasses. instead, they were a pair with narrow lenses rimmed only on the bottom half. Lying on her side seductively with her hair pooled around her, she looked like a pinup model.
Or a sexy librarian maybe?
Amy chuckled, then frowned. Were the thoughts hers, or was she hearing voices? She was more lucid here than in a typical dream, but it was still hard to think and her clarity faded in and out. Already her memory of what had happened up to this point was blurring. Like the walls. Her door opened, and Gwen finally entered.
"What took you so long?"
"Sorry. I got distracted."
Gwen glanced sideways and blushed. Her bashful behavior roused something within Amy. She was wearing the same cropped tee and frilly crimson panties from this morning. Gwen's platinum locks and the loose hem of her shirt fluttered in some unseen breeze that only seemed to affect her. She wasn't wearing a bra, and two nubs were clearly visible where her nipples pressed against the fabric of the shirt. Amy felt a pang of jealousy as she admired the silhouette of Gwen's teardrop breasts. Her taut midsection and delicate legs. She began to shift to cover her own oversized body.
No. You're perfect.
Amy froze, and the jealousy slipped away. A sense of comfort washed over her, and the jealousy was replaced by lust.
"Come here."
The words came effortlessly to her lips. They were kind, but firm. A command. She patted the bed beside her to add emphasis. With the exception of her academic work, she'd always been meek. It was another thing she disliked about herself, but in the dreams she was instilled with a confidence that eluded her in the waking world.
Gwen, usually fiery and bold, was the meek one here. She simply nodded and moved to obey. She crawled along the bed, back arched and hips swaying. Amy found her eyes drawn along each flowing curve as Gwen reached her. For a moment, a spark of clarity cut through her foggy mind. It whispered to her. This wasn't right. She reached out and cupped Gwen's cheek. At the contact Gwen's form shifted and the childhood friend she remembered appeared before her.
No!
"No!"
Gwen spoke in time with the voice in her head and pulled away. The room shook, and the fog closed in. Anger flashed across Gwen's face and she shifted back into the slender, seductive woman she'd become. The fog halted. It had consumed the walls, leaving the two of them atop a bed floating in a sea of dark smoke bathed in red light. Gwen had regained her composure. What had she just done? Amy couldn't remember, but she apologized anyway.
"I'm sorry."
She reached forward and pulled Gwen into a hug, cradled her against her chest and felt her squeeze back. They shifted sideways until Amy was spooning Gwen's smaller form. Her hand drifted along Gwen's stomach and came to rest on her hip. Gwen took her other hand in her own and their fingers intertwined. Amy kissed the back of Gwen's neck. This was Gwen. This was what she wanted. She ignored the whisper telling her otherwise.
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Amy woke up feeling more refreshed than she had since their predicament began. As she went about her morning routine she silently thanked Gwen for her restraint last night. The memories were already growing fuzzy, but she remembered dreaming of her yet again. Images of them intertwined in her bed sprang to her mind. She shook her head in an effort to clear them, sending her tangled hair flying. The past week providing Gwen with sustenance had clearly had an effect on her thought patterns. It made sense that her dreams would follow suit. Nothing unusual there. Still, she needed to get a grip on herself. One of them needed to keep a level head at least.
Gwen had displayed an impressive level self control so far but it was obvious that her thoughts dwelled on sex more and more as her transformation progressed. At first when Amy caught her sneaking glances, Gwen would quickly avert her eyes, or apologize. Now she flirted openly, and didn't seem to realize that she often stared at Amy in a way that made her feel a bit like a piece of meat. Well, she
was
a meal to be fair. And though she sometimes felt like a lamb trapped with a lion, Gwen had stuck to the rules so far. Perhaps her restraint last night signified that she was more easily able to keep her lust in check.
They'd planned a trip into the city today, and it was nearly winter, so she picked through her closet and put together an outfit suited for colder weather. At the last minute, an impulse struck her and she replaced the loose blouse she'd selected with a tan turtle-neck sweater that she rarely wore. It had looked so refined on the store mannequin that she'd bought it without thinking, but then of course she'd returned home to find that It clung more tightly than she'd anticipated and drew attention to the rolling curves of her hips and chest. For some reason that didn't bother her today. It looked nice with the outfit, and she'd be wearing a coat anyways.
She showered, dressed, somehow managed to comb out her hair, and gave her teeth a much needed brushing. She considered putting on makeup, but Gwen had jokingly referred to their planned outing as a date a few days ago and she didn't want to encourage that line of thinking. True, her exposure to Gwen's abilities had made her an increasingly willing participant in their daily...encounters, but she didn't want to blur the line between romance and friendship any more than necessary. She was eager to learn more about Gwen's powers and their effects, and was willing to use herself as a test subject, but she worried she was beginning to lose track of where that line was.
Gwen was already awake and waiting for her in the kitchen leaning against the counter reading something on her phone. As Amy entered the living space she set it down. Amy used to be annoyed when Gwen shuffled in for coffee five minutes before they needed to leave, but she realized she'd probably never see that side of Gwen again. Gwen didn't seem to need nutritional sustenance anymore, and had stopped drinking coffee altogether. Her regular feeding seemed to have given her an abundance of energy and she was usually the first one awake now. She felt a bit sad at the thought.
"I made you coffee. How are you feeling?"
"Great, actually."
"Good. I was worried I'd permanently turned you into a zombie."
Gwen beamed at her, and Amy couldn't help but smile back. Her genuine relief was disarming. Hard to believe the beautiful woman before her was one of the monsters described on James Thompson's unhinged blog. But it was also hard to believe it was Gwen sometimes. She looked so different. Part of it was the clothes. Instead of her usual combination of jeans and a tee shirt, she had been wearing more fashionable, and increasingly more revealing clothing. Today it was another skirt, ruffled and brown, and the same pair of black heeled boots she wore the day before. The skirt was long at least, but the white halter top above it would do little for the cold. Amy recalled her dream the night before. At least Gwen was wearing a bra.
She didn't really care how Gwen dressed, but it was a worrying sign that Gwen's personality might be changing along with her body. It wasn't like her to fuss over appearance. Maybe succubuses instinctively sought out ways to augment their already captivating bodies? Or maybe she was just overthinking it. She knew Gwen hadn't exactly loved her body before. Perhaps she was just making the best of a bad situation and enjoying her new form. Amy had her own share of body issues, so she could empathize. She moved past Gwen into the kitchen and began searching for her thermos.
She called back over her shoulder, "You should bring a jacket. You're going to be freezing."
"I'll be fine."
"You always say that. I'm not going to give you my coat."
