I Stalk the Succubus, Part 2 Victoria becomes Cindy
The setup for this catch had to be damned elaborate. We wanted her to come to me, alone, willing, unafraid. I needed to be appealing, wounded enough to require real treatment and rich enough to afford the fees. And of course I needed to appear to have ample juice for a master succubus to harvest.
Of course her name was no longer Victoria by the time I tracked her down. A succubus who has a suspicion she is being tracked will go to great lengths to hide her identity. If her last shape-shift was as a nightclub floozy, then the next time she will be a no-nonsense business woman, or a kindergarten teacher. Victoria had decided to reappear as a trained private nurse/physical therapist, Cindy Dixon. Specializing in patients with athletic or war injuries. Good cover. She could feed on certain patients and their weakness and strange dreams could be written off to PTSD, or brain injury, or the drug cocktail they needed to recover, and she could be the one to mix that cocktail. Suck 'em down, pump 'em up again. Rinse, repeat.
She had shifted shape. Victoria had been a tall, voluptuous brunette. Cindy was a curvy redhead with lots of freckles. She kept most of her killer curves hidden under her scrubs, until it was time to use them for her deadly 'treatment.'
So I needed to be completely disguised too; to appear to her as a new patient, a wounded vet, since the last time I had been in her presence, while tracking down Morgan La Fay, I had appeared as an athlete. She had last seen me as a chestnut brown beast of a dude. This time I slimmed down and shaped my face to be lean and hatchet-nose. Light olive skin. Unruly curly hair and a goatee. Limping with my left leg. Left arm kind of twisted. Karim Martinelli. The disguise hurt a little, but it was effective. Nobody who knew me before knew me now.
I had to take my time, since I wanted to gain her trust. The plan was to get her alone, or rather, that was the premise, but I figured for this one I could benefit from a little help from my posse. First was the 'warm up'. Several guys in training volunteered to "take one for the cause." It was dangerous work because they weren't well trained. Most were pure humans, but they had to convince Cindy that they were wounded soldiers or athletes, in need of her special breed of treatment, claiming PTSD and shock-induced brain trauma to shift their complaint from recurrent nightmares of combat or failed athletic contests, to spooky dreams of sex. Strange fatigue. Soreness here, there, and everywhere.
Fortunately, only one of them died. And that's because he got too big for his britches, thinking he could bag her himself in one big blow. She downed him; sucked him dry. Cooked the medical report to read like he had had a stroke. She was good at that. Had her succubus crew to back her up?
So this was a tricky was because her M.O. was to get the guy addicted. She would bring him in; do a 'consult' in which he discovered that part of his therapy was to 'release pent-up fluids' that might be 'holding him back'; spend a certain amount of time with a beautiful 'psychologist' being encourage to speak his deepest fantasies; and then 'physical therapy' which greatly resembled a massage with a happy ending, only it had all the bells and whistles that lit him up based on his fantasies.
I didn't have the luxury of spending a lot of time with "Dr. Cindy Dixon". Oh, it wasn't like it had to be a fast in-out and done. It helps to tease a succubus and get her really eager and worked up, 'dose her' several times as I had with Cindy's ex-boss. But I didn't have that opportunity here. The biggest problem was her
fluid memory.
See, succubi have evolved amazing scent and taste glands that allow them to suss out the most potent juice in their prey; and once they have tasted it, they will never forget it. Remarkable as it seems, they have been known to
reject
certain quarry because in the first go round the dude's juice was too weak to be worth the effort. Doesn't happen often because they are greedy bitches, especially the new ones fresh out of the pod; but experienced suckers like Dr. Cindy are looking for the highest quality feed.
In my case, she would know me by the taste of my cum, and know that I was there to kill her. Things would get nasty, especially if I was in the clinic where she had her sisters around for reinforcements. I'd be a dry husk in minutes.
So I had to set my own standards. First deal was to convince her I needed treatment in my own crib. Sob story about agoraphobia and needing to stay close to my 'support system.' I saw her once at her office, so she could take a 'history,' but then it was strictly visits in my home clinic. I had the Organization fit it out nice with a fancy adjustable bed and cabinets where she could store all my 'meds,' exercise equipment to order based on her prescription, voice activated lighting, and, most important, hidden rooms where my accomplices could be hidden until the moment they were needed.
Now, timing and strategy was critical. I had to convince Dr. Cindy that I was a quarry with strong enough juice for her to harvest personally. Weaker prospects she might leave to her assistants. But I needed to give it to her in a single blow-out session. So she had to be persuaded to go after me without a long-term program.
Here was the plan: As part of my 'trauma' I convinced her that my semen had effectively dried up. A nurse during my recovery from an IED attack, who later became my girlfriend, had been inappropriate while I was still almost comatose, and betrayed me with a good buddy, so now I couldn't stand to have anyone with red hair or freckles touch me intimately. Still, I cherished touch, and wanted to recover my trust.
Next step was to get Dr. Dixon strong on the scent without actually sniffing me out. So I had my scouts identify a new delicate blonde succubus, Evangeline, who I knew had never tasted me. She was picked because she was particularly good at 'oral therapy.' My point team made sure to feed Evangeline, and Dr. Cindy learned that I was impressed by stories 'certain vets' had told of this nurse who could effectively 'desensitize traumas in the groin region.' Only, she wasn't a freckled redhead, was she?
Trap set. Dr. Cindy would be challenged to help me recover from my traumatic relationship with the Redheaded Nurse. My full recovery would come when I said I was ready for full sex with a woman of that description. Meanwhile, I could have Evangeline come around for a treatment that would intrigue her boss and make her pretty jealous.
She shows up, mid-morning on a Tuesday. I have my 'housekeeper,' Mrs. Williams, a sturdy operative from the Organization, let her in and lead her to the suite. We don't need to risk any accusations of inappropriate behavior on my part. On the other hand, I know what the basic succubus plan is. They need to 'switch me over' from PTSD about my past to pleasant memories of beautiful women in thrall to my charms. They need to have me hungry to give them more. They need to work me up so I desperately need to unload my precious cargo and feed their diabolical hunger.
So I know that Evangeline has brought certain rubs and elixirs that are supposed to help me relax and let go of the somatic trauma still locked in my muscles, my gut, and of course, my brain. I, of course, need to use all my best tricks to substitute my placebos for their knock-out drops. Push comes to shove, I have to swallow something and puke it up quick or hold it in one of my four stomachs until I can barf it out. The most potent stuff is succubus mothers' milk and Evangeline will try to feed me enough that I zonk out and become silly putty in her pretty white hands.
Evangeline is all that a man who loves graceful blonde beauties could want. She sports very large innocent-looking turquoise eyes. Her ash-blonde hair is caught in a cute twist on the top of her head. And she moves like water, everything flowing back and forth from her swan's neck to her spritely heels. Her smile lights the room, and the indelible thought plants itself in my mind that those strong full lips
need to
draw the precious liquids out of me. This is good. Her powers are strong.
I discover quickly that her hands also have powers. But before she can begin the rub that is designed to send me to lala land I have to distract her and swap my massage lotion for hers. While I'm at it I also switch out the patented sports drink I know she will insist on my drinking. I
might
be able to stay alert after imbibing that stuff, but it has a way of melting through membranes. I need to be in control because I want to tease Evangeline; give her just enough to take back an intriguing report of my 'potential,' but not so much that Dr. Cindy will be suspicious. Also don't need to get Evangeline so hungry she decides to take me out herself. Everybody on task.
Evangeline 'suits up' for the therapy session. It is no accident that now she wears a skin-tight white outfit with no underwear in sight. And I know that the massage oil will 'accidentally' turn parts of the outfit transparent; her erect nipples as she bends over me; her groin and belly when she presses against my side.
"Please take off your robe and lie face down on the massage bed." She places a hand on my shoulder and it is electric. I feel my penis jump. Have I made a bad choice in who will take my sample back to succubus HQ? Trouble is, it doesn't feel like a bad choice. It feels like the perfect choice, especially as she helps me disrobe and carelessly brushes the back of her hand across my naked flank.
No comments about, 'you can wear underwear if you will be more comfortable.' The gulp I took of what was supposed to be her sports drink is meant to have me already more relaxed and compliant and ready to pass out in just a few.
"Just stretch out and put your face in the ring."
Hmm, this effectively blinds me and I am surprised to feel soft restraints going around my wrists and ankles. They're not part of my setup. What the...? While I can break them easily it's the idea of the things that is very disturbing. Clearly, if I was an ordinary man, well-sedated, and not a hybrid well-trained satyr-human I would be in a bit of trouble.
"What's this...?" I have to pretend to be already 'under the influence.'
Evangeline is sanguine. "Oh, that's something to keep you safe. A lot of our clients can become violent as old memories kick in. They can accidentally strike us or fall off the table. Just relax. This will feel good."
She preceded to give me what might have been seen by the people at our HQ watching as a very talented crania-fascial massage, with special treatment of my injured areas. Less obvious was the chant she repeated and the wordless tune she crooned. I knew these were designed to plant the new memories and dreams in my subconscious, so I would have a crying hunger to get back to my succubus soon for further treatments. I closed my ear flaps and relaxed for a few moments.
Those long strong fingers were soon massaging my lower back and ass, not to relax tense glutes, but to encourage me to go into natural humping motion. As her thumbs and fingertips caressed the insides of my thighs they gently massaged my testicles with a tantalizing pressure that was on the edge of pain, but had the opposite effect of encouraging them to unload their precious cargo. Soon the stroking was less subtle and a warm hand slid under my semi-erect cock, tugging it gently, encouraging it to come to full size.
Here I had to kick in my training and self-discipline. It was critical to my disguise that I didn't reveal my full length and girth yet. I also wanted to parcel out my semen in very precise loads. Still, I felt an early release and knew there was a tiny puddle of clear liquid now on the massage mat.
I suppose I should not have been astonished to feel warm breath on my inner thighs as Evangeline lowered her face over my stiffening organ, her snaky tongue scooping up every drop of that slick, and twisting around the tip of my rod to clean up the last droplets, or to encourage more. More of a surprise to feel that soft-rough tongue slather its way up my shaft and then swathe my tightening balls.
If I was supposed to be fully awake I might have yelped as those tender eggs slid between her hot lips and her prehensile tongue squeezed and tickled them into further action.
Clearly, she needed me in a more accessible position. The cuffs came off my wrists and ankles and I was flipped over as though I was a feather pillow. Wrists and ankles strapped down again. I feigned being knocked out as Evangeline leaped all too easily onto the massage table, crouched over me with strong fingers wrapped around my thighs. That genteel face had become truly predatory; her eyes red and gleaming; her mouth agape and lowering toward my cock. A truly amazing sight as her long tongue came way out of her purple lips and wrapped around my shaft, tugging it upward toward her hungry mouth.
She was in no hurry, nostrils flaring, saliva dripping onto my swelling organ.
Her strong lips closed around the head and sucked hard. It swelled to fill her mouth and I had to struggle to maintain my 'disguise' as an ordinary mortal with a slightly extraordinary organ. But this was the upside of the job, because suckers like Evangeline give the best BJs on the planet. But don't expect one to give you a sweet hoovering. No, this is industrial strength cock sucking.
Evangeline's lips were almost prehensile; stretching way down the shaft and squeezing upward while her cheeks applied serious suction. Low growls and grunts were coming from deep in her throat. Her neck and shoulders strained with the effort of her motion, as she rocked on her hams, tilting down deeper and deeper until her lips were buried in my pubes. And trust me, I am not a small fellow, even when I am masquerading at half strength.
Sometimes I suspect that succubi can breathe through some special organ, since they can take you all the way down their throats for ages and never gasp, and never choke. And
all
her mouth and
all
her throat were stroking my shaft; coaxing any juice I had in there up into that succubus gut. And then the magic trick: I felt those flexible lips surround my great balls and coax them to give up their cargo.
Well, here goes: I gave a big groan and let loose maybe a quarter of my supply.
Evangeline's nostrils flared and she gulped eagerly as the cream hit the back of her throat. Sucking all up and down my rod, trying to get the last drop.
I clamped down. Trust me, I didn't want to, but a job's a job. The plan was to tantalize her enough to convince her I was a prime prospect for the #1 sucker, and make sure she reported back to Dr. Cindy. So, no more.
Still, I start wailing and moaning and thrashing and jerking at the restraints; heaving my body all over the table; unceremoniously pitching Evangeline to the floor. She was a big girl and no damage was done. But her mouth had come off my cock with a great gasp; and she struggled to hold onto the partial load she had taken.
