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Cassandra took a seat at the corner table of the Shade Street Cafe near to the university from which she taught. She had much on her mind as she set up her small laptop on the gleaming beige surface; the upcoming semester, the classes she'd be teaching, the students, the faculty--she could hardly wait. She had so many plans, and she wanted to start them all at once.
For over a year, her life had descended into banal drudgery. Days and weeks blending into one another. Lectures. Meetings. Romances. Looking back, the memories seemed like a desaturated blur.
It had all changed two months ago. Two months since she had received a wonderful gift, a gift that had upended her outlook on life. It had changed the way she thought, changed the way she lived. That single gift had filled her with a passion for life she never thought imaginable.
A passion, and a deep, deep hunger.
As Cassandra sat there, typing up notes for her Introduction to Psychology course, the long, gentle tendrils of her power--invisible to the patrons and staff--snaked around the cozy café at a slow, languid pace. With the lightest, intangible caress, she could sense their thoughts. A business man considered his next corporate power play for that afternoon's board meeting. A student from the university pondered his upcoming classes as his eyes wandered over the thin, athletic form of the girl working the counter.
She sensed the boy's desire through those dark tendrils. It was something between a smell and a taste that was so new she had no word for it, but was as intoxicating as it was delicious. Cassandra savored the taste as she sipped her mocha, the two sensations mingling to draw a pleasured murmur from her full, red lips.
The boy was nice, but it was the girl barista's co-worker that was truly delectable. While the blonde, freckled girl rang up the businessman, the boy whipping up the drinks repeatedly cast his furtive gaze towards her. Cassandra watched as his eyes traced over the girl's petite body--her slim waist; her flat stomach; her ample bosom. His eyes hungered for her.
The heat between Cassandra's thighs was like a furnace. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine being so completely and thoroughly aroused. It was a state that never left her. As natural to her as breathing, the lust that roiled within was a part of her very soul.
Her creator. Her Patron. Her Mistress. She had taught her. Shown her. She had made Cassandra into a succubus; a being whose purpose was to feed on sexual energy and corruption. It had been so alien at first. So strange. But now, two months into her new existence, she couldn't imagine feeling any other way.
The lust didn't distract her. On the contrary, the deeper her arousal ran, the
sharper
her focus became. The more heightened her senses grew. And so, as she casually tapped away at her little laptop, her mind easily caressed and probed and whispered into the minds of the student and the barista.
Her power--like a warm bath--washed over them; soothing their minds and easing their tension. Ambiently, she fed off their mutual desire for the girl. Like a vampire bat, her tendrils licked up every naughty thought and desire rising from their minds. The boy in line struggled to hide his throbbing erection. The barista shuddered, nearly spilling the drink he was making.
And, also like a vampire bat, her dark touch ensured the debased sustenance she required continued to flow. Any lustful energy she drew away replenished twofold as she teased and excited their fantasies. With the skill of an accomplished surgeon, she cut open the deepest, darkest corners of their desires and then fed upon them.
Cassandra's thighs quavered lightly as she tasted their lust. Her fingers slid lightly down her lips as she let out a single, quivering breath. The sensation was like nothing she had ever felt; and, as always, she wanted more--needed more.
She felt the urge to reach down and stroke herself; to draw forth orgasms from the boys' minds, drink deep of the ensuing sensations, and truly sate her hunger. Instead, she took a long sip of her drink, letting the warmth spread through her as she closed her eyes and, for just a moment, let the world melt away.
When she opened them again, the student was trying to stammer his way through his order. His arousal was like a hot coal; his mind was muddled, his brow sweaty, and his pants were tenting in the most obscene manner. As Cassandra watched him, the tendrils of her power slithered over his skin.
The register shielded the girl from the lewder indications of the boy's attraction. She stood patiently, politely offering suggestions as the boy struggled to even remember what kind of establishment he was in, much less what he had intended to order.
Cassandra smiled to herself, curling a finger around a loose curl of raven hair. Finally, the boy mumbled out an order. The other barista, who Cassandra had used a lighter touch on, kept himself together well enough to fill the order; though the look on his face--a mixture of lust, yearning, embarrassment--was delightful.
She watched the boy pay for his order and uncomfortably shuffle his way towards the door. As he did, Cassandra pondered pushing deeper into his psyche. Of plunging her tendrils into the student's mind and marking him. Of hooking her influence deep inside him so that later, in the poor boy's dreams, she could really begin to play.
But Cassandra resisted the impulse. She felt him pull free of her tendrils as he walked down the street. In a few hours, he would be fine, though the cute barista would now take up a permanent place in his sexual fantasies.
Speaking of which...
Draining the last bit of her mug, Cassandra turned her attention to the sweet faced cafe girl. She was pouring out cups of coffee from a large carafe, oblivious to the dark eyes of the succubus staring into her.
The girl was stunning. Her tan skin and lithe frame spoke of a girl who loved the outdoors. Her narrow features and high cheekbones gave her a delicate look; the light freckles over her button nose invoked a cute innocence. Despite her slenderness, she sported ample curves with delightful swells in her chest and curves at her hips.
Her mind was eager and hopeful for her coming junior year at the college. She was a runner, a swimmer, a hiker. She was a lover of nature, music, and dance. Academics were not her strong suit, but her enthusiasm and passion carried her far.
And for it all, tasting her thoughts, Cassandra could sense the girl was unaware of her loveliness.
As Cassandra basked in this sweet girl's innocence--her pure love of life--she felt her loins ache. The thick, wet heat between her legs rose, and rose, and rose, sharpening her mind to a razor's edge.
Even as it happened, Cassandra could not help but muse on how strange it was. She had just fed, but in feeding, her hunger only intensified. It was like a pit that grew deeper the more you tried to fill it. And it felt
good
. Her rising lust only strengthened her. Intensified her power.
Her creator had said that their existence was a new thing. Very new. These things they had become--the power they somehow held and the cravings it gave them--were still evolving. Still rising.
The thing Cassandra was about to do, the acts her cravings led her to commit, were new. And yet they came to her as if by instinct. Like she had done them a million times.
Not for the first time, she sat in awe of what she was. Something no longer human. Something that was growing and changing and becoming more than she could have ever imagined.
As she watched the girl pour her coffee, Cassandra slid and caressed and soothed her, sending soft, almost imperceptible sensations through the girl's mind. She felt the girl's body--her arms; her neck; her shoulders--tremble lightly as a wide smile spread across her lips.
And all the while, her tendrils teased and prodded at her psyche. Looking for just the right place. Just the right fault through which Cassandra could slip through.
Casandra rose, taking her mug and setting in the return tray. She lightly pulled at the girl's mind as she approached the counter, drawing her towards her. Teasing her weak, untested mental defenses. The succubus lightly fingered the rim of her mug as the girl drew near, oblivious to her gentle probing.
"Hello again!" the girl said cheerfully. "You must have enjoyed the drink if you already want something else!"
Cassandra grinned coyly. "What can I say? I like sweet things."
The girl giggled; her eyes--wide and innocent--sparkled with mirth. "Well, I don't know what you're talking about, but I can have you another drink coming up!" she laughed, turning back to the barista.
One small crack. Then another. Tiny gaps opening into the sweet girl's mind.
