Contrary to what one would expect, succubi experience their transition into adolescence later than normal humans, usually between 18-20 years of age. However, the effects are far more dramatic. All at once their body develops into a masterful tool, crafted to one purpose: seduction. As the physical changes manifest, the wicked nature that has lain dormant within them is unleashed in a storm that washes away their humanity and leaves them as greedy and manipulative as any demon. Often, their first victims are those closest to them. Friends, family, partners. Once viewed as equals, they are reduced to prey as empathy fades, hunger grows, and the newly born demon takes the first steps along the tragic path all their kind is forced to walk.
-Sir Arthur Thompson, The Demonic Archive
Gwen stared into the bathroom mirror and held the measuring tape awkwardly against her head, confirming what she already knew. The horns had grown longer. Nearly three inches now. They had begun to curve slightly, and small, dark ridges had formed across their surface. She flipped open the worn notebook, jotted the date in the corner, and noted the length under a line labeled "Horns." It still felt surreal to write it out. She continued her examination, there were other changes to track.
Her blonde hair continued to grow lighter. It was nearly silver now, and had developed a perpetual healthy sheen that made it look otherworldly. Before, she could barely get a comb through it in the morning. Now, soft and smooth, it parted easily as she ran a hand through, reforming into perfect wavy locks as her fingers passed. There was still no sign of the acne that had plagued her for years. Six days ago it had cleared up overnight. Then came the horns, the hair, and finally, her body itself had begun to change. Reshaping itself a little bit more each night.
Gwen eyed the numbers for today's entry, comparing them to her reflection. Just like the day before, her bust, waist, and hip measurements were quickly filling out. She had always been flat chested, short, and skinny. At 20 years, it was as if puberty had passed her by entirely. Well, except for the acne. But the girl in the mirror definitely had a figure. A subtle one, sure. Hardly something you would expect to see on the cover of a magazine, but it was a far cry from the plank she was used to seeing. She turned her head to view the horns from another angle. Unfortunate that the other changes came packaged with a freakish mutation.
Gwen turned her attention back to the notebook. There was a blank space at the bottom of the page. Enough space left, subconsciously perhaps, for a final condition. One that she had yet to acknowledge. As if summoned by her thoughts, the now familiar heat welled up within her. It had plagued her since the changes began. Growing a little bit each day, until she was in a constant state of mild arousal. She stamped it back down, but it was becoming difficult to ignore. How long before it reduced her to a lust-addled zombie? Would it ever stop? Would any of the changes? Would there be
more
? An all too familiar sense of panic began to overtake her. She shut her eyes and took deep breaths, reminding herself she wasn't in this alone. Eventually the panic faded. Gwen returned the tape to a drawer, snapped the notebook shut, and left with a tired sigh.
Unsurprisingly, she found Amy studying in the living room. She sat forward on the sofa cradling a steaming mug and reading a medical textbook that lay open the coffee table. Morning light drifted in through the large double window, bathing her in a golden glow and reflecting off her rounded glasses. Her hair, nearly long enough to reach her lower back, was draped like winding rivers of jet black ink, across her back, over her shoulders, and pooling in the folds of her oversized sweater. She looked up as Gwen entered, and her lips pulled into a smile that cut a single dimple into her cheek.
Butterflies filled Gwen's stomach. The ever-present warmth surged. 'Calm down.' she chided herself. It was just Amy. Although the phrase "Just Amy" was laughable. Amy had been an overachiever since they first met in elementary school. Top of the class, first chair clarinet, state science fair champion. Gwen, no slouch herself, was always in second place no matter how hard she worked. It hadn't bothered her though, not at first, because while Amy was shy and nervous, Gwen was confident and outgoing. She stood up for Amy when she couldn't stand up for herself. Made friends with the other kids, and enjoyed the spotlight while Amy shied away. They were a perfect team. Then puberty hit Amy like a truck.
Amy quickly grew into one of the most beautiful women Gwen had ever seen. Twinkling dark eyes, high cheekbones, full lips. The face of a goddess, and a body to match. Long legs, with pillowy thighs. A plump, well rounded rear that pulled into a soft, delicate waist. Not to mention a set of enormous breasts that drove boys wild. Suddenly no one could care less about Gwen. She was like a candle next to the sun. The embodiment of femininity, Amy commanded a room from the second she entered. No social graces needed. And she was
still
top of the class, right up to when they graduated.
A part of her, a small part, resented Amy for it, but she knew that was petty. Despite everything, Amy was still shy and humble. A loyal friend who never looked down on her. In fact, Amy seemed to find her beauty a nuisance. In an effort to hide her body, she always wore loose clothing. Today it was a long skirt that ran to the ground, and a thick, oversized sweater with sleeves longer than her arms, her fingers peeked out adorably from the wrinkled ends. Unfortunately for her though, there weren't clothes on Earth that could make Amy look bland. The overall effect was an air of innocence that boys trampled over each other to corrupt. Amy rejected all of them.
Until now Gwen hadn't had much interest in sex either. Instead she had chosen to focus on her studies in an effort to surpass Amy. She'd only had a single boyfriend, which resulted in a handful of disappointing sexual encounters before they broke it off, and only on rare occasions found herself fantasizing about more. But it was invariably men she fantasized about. Now however, not only was she constantly horny, but she found herself fantasizing about men, women, and more and more: Amy. Her roommate, her best friend.
"Well?" Amy's voice pulled Gwen from her thoughts.
"Almost three inches."
"They're growing faster."
"Seems that way."
"Measurements?"
"Thirty-one, twenty-three, thirty-two."
Gwen crossed her arms in front of her, hiding her body as she spoke.
"Same pace as last night. Anything else new?"
Amy tilted her head and brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes were piercing. Gwen loved the way she looked when she was focused on solving a problem. Her cheeks felt hot.
"Nope."
"I still can't see the horns."
"Good."
That had come as a surprise. When the horns appeared, just fuzzy lumps at first, Gwen had skipped class for the first time in her life. The next day she'd worn an old headband she found in the bottom of a box in her closet. Looking like an idiot was better than everyone finding out she was some kind of mutant. It had worked until her stuffy Calculus professor demanded she remove it. Reluctant to make a scene, she'd complied and was surprised when no one said anything out of the usual. When she returned to the dorm, Amy likewise said nothing about the growths. Even when pressed, in case she was being polite, there was no indication she could see them. Just concerned looks and inquiries about Gwen's mental state. Fair enough. The next day the horns were bigger, and after a panic attack, she'd broken down and told Amy everything.
She'd been worried Amy wouldn't believe her. Needlessly, it turned out. Amy was pre-med, and approached it like she would any other medical condition. Documenting the changes, and attempting to determine the underlying cause. The current hypothesis was Cutaneous Horns and constitutional delayed puberty, possibly inherited from the birth mother Gwen had never met. Neither of them had a good answer for why no one else could see the horns though, and when her hair color had started changing it threw another wrench in that theory.
"Any new ideas, doctor?"
"Not without new symptoms."
"I've been spending some time researching. Rare diseases, maybe an unusual combination of some, that sort of thing. I don't think it'll be much help though. Not until we get something concrete to go on." She frowned. "I still think you should see a real doctor."
"And tell them what? I have invisible horns, my tits are getting bigger, and I'm constantly-"
"Constantly what?"
"It doesn't matter. It's Berkely, everyone here knows a doctor. I don't want it to get out and become the... goat girl or something."
"It won't get out, doctor patient confidentiality prevents that."
"It's only been six days, if it gets serious I'll see a doctor. Besides, I trust your medical opinion."
"In that case, it's my medical opinion that you should see a real doctor."
"No." The idea of showing the horns to someone besides Amy terrified her.
"What about my dad?"
