She floated above the city and projected the promise of dark pleasures to it. The response came back almost immediately -- feelings of desperation, hopeless yearning, and unsatisfied lust.
She picked the most ardent of these responses and willed herself there.
A middle-aged man -- a life-long bachelor if Kat had to guess -- writhed on the bed in a shabby one-bedroom flat. She approached him and spoke into his dream.
"Tonight I'm yours if you want me."
Sadly, it was a line that he'd likely never heard before in real life and it got his attention. His movements on the bed stilled.
"You can do whatever you want," she said.
She insinuated herself into his dreams as a raven-haired temptress and he responded. She straddled him. There was no time and little need for foreplay. He entered her. Years of unwanted abstinence spurred him. On the threshold of climax, she revealed herself as an old hag, a wrinkled old crone more dead than alive. Lust and dread combined and she drank it up.
The lonely man had satisfied her immediate appetite. She felt full and powerful, but she heeded Isabel's words. She left him thrashing and whimpering on the bed with the ghost of his dream and projected once again to the city.
Her next target was a jail. An inmate awaiting trial dreamt of the girlfriend he'd beaten. He was sure that she wouldn't testify. She loved him, after all, and feared him as well. The girlfriend came to him then, naked as he liked her. Her large breasts swayed and wobbled as she approached. He liked that too, the way her breasts hung on her. She knelt at his side and fished his cock out of his pants. She was learning. Spontaneity, that's what it was all about. Nothing better than an unplanned blowjob. He liked surprises as much as anyone. Her technique was getting better too. Hands and mouth, just like he'd told her. She'd overcome her fucking gag reflex too. About time. Who had to gag after taking in one lousy inch? She didn't gag when she put a French fry in her mouth, for fuck's sake. It was a lame excuse if he'd ever heard one. She'd gotten over that, he saw, big time. He loved the way her cheeks sucked in as she went down on him. And she moaned as though she loved it. Well, she ought to love it! Holy shit, she was right down on him! Her nose touched his abdomen and he could feel her tongue undulating along his entire length. He couldn't believe it! He felt that familiar tingling behind his balls as her head bobbed up and down on him. His homely girlfriend had become a fucking porn star. The pressure built. I've got something for you, baby. Oh, yeah! I'm gonna blow. Just before climax, he felt a searing pain from his nether regions. Leave it to the bitch to fuck it up at the last minute. He looked down. First, he noticed that the woman between his legs was no longer his girlfriend, but someone infinitely prettier. Then he noticed the blood that ran down her pretty little chin. He came, and saw a feeble spurt from the bloody stump where his cock had been.
The inmate awoke with a yelp, but not before Kat had drunk her fill from him. She watched as his hands reached for his groin, frantically grappling.
"Oh, fuck," he whimpered. "Thank God."
Satisfied that all was still intact, the inmate muttered something that Kat didn't understand and rolled over.
In another house, she approached a father. She wore the guise of his daughter. Normally he would steal into her room. Not this time. This time, she visited him. She hitched up her nightie and straddled him. He was ready, by God.
"Daddy," she whispered as she descended on him.
He could feel her warmth enveloping him and felt himself coming already. Damn it. They'd just started. He'd be better the next time.
"Daddy, you shouldn't do these things," she said as he came.
He knew. God, he knew, but he couldn't help it.
"This is the last time. Good-bye."
He felt a searing pain in his chest and his eyes sprang open. He half-expected to see the handle of a knife rising out of his chest, but there was nothing. He saw only his daughter, writhing upon him, dancing with such abandon that he almost didn't recognize her.
"This is the last time, Daddy." She held out her hand and appeared to clutch some invisible object. Her fingers tightened around it and that chest pain bloomed again.
He came as her grip on his heart tightened.
He awoke in a sweat. His daughter wasn't there, but the pain in his chest still was.
Kat spent the whole night like this, flitting from one location to another, gorging herself until she felt as though she would spew it all over the unsuspecting city. And still she continued until her being positively thrummed with energy. She could scarcely contain it. Just when she thought she'd call it a night, she thought of Isabel's words. Then she thought of Daniel for whom all of this was necessary. Then she'd project once more, select a target, and begin the dance once again.
***
The police in and around Heidelberg reported an inexplicable spike in the numbers of rapes and assaults that night. The morning shift came to work to find the jails filled with many who were no strangers to state accommodation and an equal number who were. The citizens of the city returned to their offices and job sites complaining of exhaustion and strange dreams, though few revealed their nature. People opined that sunspots were to blame, some pointed to the weather, and others suggested some kind of environmental catastrophe that the state had no doubt covered up. Most remained silent, hoping that this blip was just that and that life would soon return to its predictable pattern.
Kat slept through the confusion and turmoil that she`d wrought.
***
Daniel stood alone in a bedroom in the basement. A heavy, wooden four-poster bed occupied the center of the room. Thick white candles seemed to grow out of ages of molten wax that hung like stalactites from tall iron holders. Their flickering light provided the room's only illumination. In their glow, the figures on ancient wall hangings seemed to dance. Daniel walked around the room and examined them. He could discern Heidelberg Castle on one, before its partial destruction. In the foreground, dancing demons cavorted with naked peasants. There was violence and fornication and all manner of depravity.
It had been several hours since Isabel had summoned Daniel from his room. He knew that she, like Kat, was a succubus. He liked Isabel immediately and felt at ease in her presence. She explained some of what would happen tonight and reviewed with him the words she had asked him to memorize. Finally, she asked if he was still willing. He'd only nodded but she forced him to speak the word.
Satisfied that he was ready, she led him to a bedroom in the basement and asked him to undress and wait.
"What's going to happen?" he'd asked.
"There's little precedence for this, Daniel." She'd kissed him then and closed the door behind her.
He felt more lonely now than at any point during his captivity. He thought of praying for strength, but realized that that particular avenue was now closed to him.
Daniel examined the room several times. The floor was made of rough stone. The light wasn't good enough to see, but under his bare feet Daniel could feel symbols etched into it.
He grew tired and, having little else to do, lay on the bed. His anxiety about what was to come gradually waned until he fell into a fitful slumber.
He wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep, but some subtle change in the atmosphere of the room roused him. He looked around for its source and soon noted a shimmering in a darkened corner of the room. The disturbance in the air resolved itself into the form of Kat. He`d never seen her do this before and gazed at her in amazement. Her skin bore an umber hue, seemingly lit from within. The air around her seemed charged.
She stepped into the faint light of one of the candles. Like him, she wore nothing. Her allure was at once breathtaking and unspeakably terrible. She took an unhurried step toward him, one muscular and shapely leg placed before the other. The ring between her legs glinted for a moment in the candlelight. He could see muscles flexing, coiling and uncoiling. He noted the elegance of her waist, the ripeness of her breasts. Her wings unfurled behind her with the sound of silk against skin. She observed him with those dark eyes that seemed ringed by embers and the corners of her mouth lifted in a tentative smile. Her horns, cold and white, rose above her head like a crown.
He'd seen her in her true form several times before, but always through the veil of sleep. He'd always appreciated her unearthly power, but had never felt it as he did now. Here was a creature forged for one thing and he could do nothing to withstand it. Here was the architect of his corruption and he wanted her.
