Bartender Succubus

"Excuse me? Hello? Anyone home?"

Bleary-eyed and weary, I lifted my head off the bar. Someone seemed to be talking. Someone should shut the fuck up. I slammed my head back down and closed my eyes, trying to get rid of the damn buzzing in my skull.

"Hey! Get your head off the fucking bar, we're closed!"

They grabbed me this time. Snarling, I swung around, only to have the motion nearly throw me off the stool. I crouched down, desperately trying not to vomit.

When I was sure the reflex was suppressed, I slowly raised my head, ready to tear whoever the fuck this was a new asshole. Instead, I came face to face with something unexpected.

She was short. I was tall, so everyone was short, but her especially, not an inch over five feet. Short and angry. First thing I noticed was the pissed off expression on a fairly attractive face, done up with black eye liner, black lipstick, and a septum piercing. She seemed to be going for a Goth look, or maybe... What was it, coven? I don't know, something mystical.

The rest of her attire matched. She wore a black tank top cut off just below her ribs, heavy black pants with enough chains on them to make an anchor line, and black combat boots. While her midriff, as far as I could see, was bare besides the belly piercing, her arms were a solid wall of tattoos that looked like Celtic knots. She had a nice hourglass figure, for her size.

That angry expression was still there when I blearily looked up at her, trying to control my raging hangover.

"Why were you asleep on my bar?"

I shook my head. "God, I... Sorry. I'm very sorry. I don't remember what happened."

She slapped the back of my head, delivering, in addition to the nausea trying to make a return, a sharp stinging sensation. "Ring any bells?"

Frowning, I tried to recall. "Something... There was a fight?"

She nodded. "Right at closing time. You were drunk off your ass and picked a fight with the biggest guy in here. He floored you with one punch and left with the rest of my customers. You lasted long enough to stagger onto my bar. We've been trying to wake you for about an hour now."

"Jesus Christ... Again, I'm very sorry."

She nodded sagely. "Damn right you should be."

"I'll head home now."

"Wait, how'd you get here?"

"Car." I winced as I realized my mistake.

"You're not leaving until you're sober enough to drive." She seemed to mull something over, and came to a conclusion. With a small smile that I only understood later, she said, "Come on upstairs. I'll get that gash on your head stitched up."

Nodding, I followed her up the stairs around the back of the bar. Generally, I tried not to ogle people. But her black pants, so baggy around the rest of her legs, fit snugly around her ample ass, twitching as she climbed the steps. Despite myself, my eyes were fixed on her rear as we ascended.

We came out in a small room overlooking the street. It matched the rest of the bar in its run-down look. She gestured me over to the sink in the corner and made me sit on the one chair in the room, as she brought over a small first aid kit.

"So, what's your name?" she asked as she laid open the kit.

"Ethan. Yours?"

"Miranda. Now, this is going to sting a little." I winced as she dabbed disinfectant into the wound, followed by a series of pricks as she threaded the needle through.

"Thank you for this. Again, I'm-"

"Sorry," she murmured as she made the final few stitches. "I know. Very rare that I get a man as polite as you in my bar, Ethan. Especially a man who just picked a fight with the biggest bastard here."

I gave a small sigh as she softly ran her fingers around the cut. "Thanks. Any chance you have something for a hangover?"

"Sure thing, let me run downstairs."

As she left, I glanced around the room. Smaller than I'd expect. The furnishings, for the most part, matched the rest of the bar, with worn wood on the floor and ceiling and wallpaper that was starting to peel. The only chair in the room, which I was sitting on, was threadbare, and the small desk in the opposite corner looked ready to collapse. The only relatively new item in the room was the large queen-sized bed in the middle of the room, with black covers that looked to be made of silk.

Miranda came back up with a small glass of some sort of black liquid. She handed it to me. I looked down at the unappealing liquid.

"Black liquorice vodka, mixed with a few other ingredients I have downstairs." She smiled. "It tastes disgusting, but it'll get rid of the hangover."

I gave the glass a sniff and nearly gagged from the horrific smell. Holding my nose shut with one hand, I quickly gulped the liquor down. The burning sensation that spread through my chest nearly made me vomit, and I leaned forward, gasping as it slowly diluted into a deep warmth. Within seconds, I felt the hangover disappear, replaced by the all-consuming heat spreading to my extremities. I crossed my legs as the heat pooled in my cock and, disturbing yet arousing, some point in my lower gut.

Miranda gave a deep smile as she watched the change come over me. "How's that?" she asked in a voice entirely changed, now deep and husky.

I gasped again, trying and failing to hide a surge in my erection. "What, what was in that?"

"Oh, this and that." Suddenly, she grabbed my crotch. "Why, are you complaining?"

With that firm touch, I saw how the rest of the night was going to go. "No, not at all." Smiling, I let her lead me, cock-first, to the bed.

She didn't waste any time stripping me of my clothes and throwing me down on the bed. I grinned as I watched her slowly strip, a sharp contrast to my sudden nudity.

First the black tank top came off. Her belly was fit and tone, clearly defined and muscular. Her breasts were a fair size, but fit her shorter frame. I couldn't hide my smile as she undid her black bra. The bra hadn't lied. Her tits were big and firm, with nipples the size of eraser heads.

As she began to unzip her pants, I slowly started stroking myself. Her hips were nice and wide, flaring out to support that gorgeous ass. She smiled as she slowly shimmied her panties down her legs, revealing tight lips already sopping wet.

"Like what you see?" she asked. I nodded, stroking myself faster. She slipped a finger between her cunt lips and slowly withdrew it, dripping with moisture. Miranda slowly sucked on the tip, licking it clean. "I wonder how kinky you are?" she asked.

I grinned. "Tonight, I'm as kinky as you want me to be."

She smiled. "Good answer, lover boy. Look in there." She gestured to the night table next to the bed.

One handed, as I was still stroking my cock now wet with pre, I opened up the top drawer and drew out a fair-sized bottle of lube. "Now," she said huskily, slipping a second finger into her tight slit, "if you want this night to continue, you're going to have to use that on your fingers, and slip them..."

My breath caught.

"In your ass."

I froze. Well, almost froze. She had hit on something that I preferred not to tell people. But my swelling cock told the story. A mischievous smile filled her face. "Looks like someone's into that. So you should have no problem. Now, lover boy, finger your ass."

I drew my legs up to my chest. This would've been more comfortable if I were on all fours, but I wanted to watch her watching me. With one hand holding my legs, the other reached around with the bottle of lube and squirted a small dollop of lube onto my rosebud. I shivered as the cool liquid brushed my ring. With one finger, I gently rubbed around my ring and in a little, until my entrance was good and ready.

Without further ado, I wedged the bottle's nozzle into my ass and gave it a long squeeze. The sensation of being filled so thoroughly made my erection throb even harder. I watched as Miranda added another finger to her entrance, her other hand rubbing one large tit.

I didn't stop squeezing until lube started dripping out of my ass. At that point, less than a third of the once-full bottle was left. I dropped it to the side, knowing that I'd need it later. Giving was as good as receiving, in my opinion.

As I prepped, Miranda had added fingers three and four, sliding in and out of her sopping cunt. She was stopped from going deeper by her thumb, but it was plain to see that that wouldn't stop her for long.

With a single digit pressed against my soaked interest, I looked up to see that she had her whole hand laid against her entrance. She stared into my eyes and nodded.

As one, we slid it home. I luxuriated in the delicious sensation of my finger spreading my ass again, as Miranda slid an entire fist up her cunt, her belly slightly bulging at its passage. Desperate for more, I slid another finger in, letting me go that little bit deeper. Another and another, and still I could only just brush my prostate and the orgasm it would bring.

I did something that I'd considered before, but was never brave enough to try. However, tonight seemed charged with something extra. My sphincter was spreading wide with ease, and the pool of pre on my belly was far large than it would normally be. As I prepared for that final insertion, I watched as Miranda lay down on the floor and shuffled back far enough for me to see over the bed. She had withdrawn her slick fist from her now gaping hole, and had positioned it over her ass, her own juices acting as lube. Her other fist was placed at her slit.

"God, you're perfect," I said.

She grinned up at me through lust-addled eyes, raring to go. "Ethan, you haven't seen anything yet." With that, she shoved both fists up both her holes. Close behind, I sank my fist into my ass. Instead of pumping like she did, I positioned my hand over my prostate and began to massage it as my other hand went to my cock. I could see the slight bulge of my knuckles in my belly.

I began to pant. "You going to cum Ethan? Come on, jizz on your face baby, give yourself a nice pearl necklace!" Miranda ended on a long pitched cry as she threw her head back, her sweaty skin shining in the neon lights from the road.

I gasped as the orgasm ripped through me. My cock throbbing and pulsating, I pointed it at my face. Her cry chased the shivering sensations that consumed my lower body and ran up my spine, each throb sending a shot arcing over my chest and landing on my face. I had never cum so violently before.

Gasping, I slowly withdrew my hand, wincing as it popped back out. The cool air kissed the inner membrane of my sphincter, a unique sensation that I'd never felt before.

Laying back on the bed, soaked in my own cum and lube, I only had a few seconds of respite before the bed bowed to Miranda's weight. A lone finger gently rimmed my anus before dragging remnants of lube up to my cock. She straddled my hips and pointed my dick at her pussy which, despite its treatment, still looked tight and inviting.

She slowly licked her lips. "Ready, Ethan?" I nodded. Biting her lower lip, she slowly sank down onto me. Her soaked lips enveloped my cock, smothering it in incredible sensations that were heightened by my recent orgasm. With my full length enveloped, she slowly rode me, almost letting my cock drop out before smothering it once more with her pussy. I reached up to fondle her tits, only to find my hands pinned to the bed above my head.

Grinning, she shook her head. With one hand somehow easily holding both my arms down, her other grasped her tit and lowered it, teasing me with its nearness. With my head fully extended, her nipple barely brushed my lips. Before I could reach out my tongue to taste it, she playfully withdrew it, bringing it up to her own mouth to suck.

With each long, languid stroke that she delivered to my throbbing cock, my need to suckle on that now-heavy tit grew. I pushed against her arms, but, with my own arms held above my head, it was impossible to move them. I needed to try something else, and it needed to happen before I came.

I couldn't move up, but I could move sideways. In one smooth motion, I slid around her, her hungry pussy still glued to my dick. Now, I was on top, and the sudden movement had freed my hands. Sitting up on the bed, I grasped her tight to me with my arms around her perfect back and hers around mine. Now, we were going my pace, fueled by my desperate need. I kissed her deeply as one hand rubbed her heavy tit, something wet (probably lube) brushing my hand. My other hand tiptoed down her back, to that heavenly entrance.

She had cum so much that her swollen rosebud was still soaked. I was able to easily sink two fingers deep into her rectum. Her back arched and she gasped, her deep breath stealing the air from my lungs. The sudden lack of oxygen pushed my orgasm closer, and I felt the peak approaching as my hips pumped ever faster.

Miranda pulled her mouth away. "Baby, baby it's too much, too much, we need to slow... slow..."

But it was too late. Our backs arched as the orgasm ran through us, feeling like one sensation rather than two. Her sphincter squeezed tight around my fingers, and her cunt did the same, run through with strange, fluttering palpitations that began to accelerate. I shot my load deep inside her cunt, and felt something awaken in her.

Her strength returned, but still running through her orgasm, she slammed my hands back down on the bed and arched her back above me. She humped against me, her previous technique gone, replaced by a savage need. I felt my arousal start to die down, but there was no denying her.

Something was happening. The room felt charged with energy. I could see her back reflected in the windows, and felt a sense of alarm as the tattoos on her arms began to spread across her shoulder blades. Red lines were now mixing with the black Celtic patterns, spreading rapidly. The same was happening on her front, the patterns wrapping around each heavy breast. As the knots spiralled into her nipples, each tit swelled, until the bottom of the perfect teardrops were brushing the bottom of her ribs. Each nipple turned a violent shade of red, centred on her pitch-black areolas.

I felt sudden jabs along my hands, and watched in alarm as inch-long black talons sprung from each of her finger nails. On her back, the spiralling pattern had coated her ribs and was now springing through the air, sketching out the shadowy shape of a pair of bat wings, made appropriate for her size.

The pattern coated her face, but here the black blended together, leaving her face an even jet colour to match her hair. The only pattern left were two red lines from her eyes, now with red retinas, down to join the other patterns at her collarbone. She gasped, and small fangs protruded from her mouth.

The patterns spiralled lower and lower. As they crossed her belly, they became angled and reminiscent of an arrow, pointed at her slit. I watched in the window, my sense of alarm becoming hindered by a returning arousal, as the patterns flowed around her ass. It bulged out even further, and I could see down her crack as her rosebud swelled, become a cushion of dark pleasure. A long, whip-like tail grew out from her tailbone.

The patterns quickly covered her legs, leaving them firm and toned. The only thing left was her pussy, with my cock still embedded in it. I hadn't noticed over my sense of alarm, but my third orgasm was now fast approaching. I tried to hold back, tried to alert Miranda or whatever the hell she was, but it was no use.

With a piercing scream that rattled the windows, she came, convalescing around my cock. I watched through a pleasurable haze as the patterns came to rest on her labia and spiralled up into her pussy, the sensation chasing my cum up her tight channel. Each lip became heavy and swollen, something hard growing within the folds of skin. Her clit thickened and extended, surging upwards and forming a very familiar shape. Within seconds, a massive pitch black cock, heavy with veins had grown from her pussy. It stretched up between her tits, ending at about halfway up her chest. Her testicles, the size of softballs, had formed in her labia, her slit, and my cock, piercing through her sac's centre.

Finally, Miranda came down from her orgasmic high. Looking down, I watched as understanding and fear came into her red eyes. With a muffled sound that was halfway between a cut-off scream and a sob, she threw herself off me with a single, powerful flap of her intangible wings. She curled up in the opposite corner, shielding herself with the shadow formed by her new appendages.

Confused, my cock now limp and entirely inadequate when compared to hers, I got off of the bed and tentatively walked over to where she was curled up. I laid a hand on her shoulder. I didn't fully understand as she hugged me, her cock smothering mine.

Between her sobs, I was able to make out her words. "I shouldn't have, Ethan. I'm not supposed to show myself like this, I'm never supposed to -hic- show myself. And no one likes this, no one's turned on by this, fuck!"

I looked down at her body. Unbidden, but not unwelcome, the possibilities presented began to swim up into my forethoughts. Entirely welcome, my cock surged back to life, pressed against the tight surface of hers.

She sniffed and looked up at me. "Really?"

Smiling, I nodded.

This time, it was me leading her back to the bed by her cock. I spun her around and laid her down, her cock standing proud and tall. With barely a second thought, I licked her from her testicles up to the dripping urethra at the head. She shuddered from the sensation, pre surging up in visible bulges. I massage the pre around her head and down her thick shaft, which couldn't quite be encircled by both my outstretched hands. Within a few seconds, I was jacking off her full two foot length. My tongue was pressed around her slit, gulping down her delicious pre as each bubble surged to the surface.

Something strange, even for this night, suddenly happened. Her slit spread wide around my face, almost gulping it down. Startled, I pulled back, but my interest was piqued. I ceased jacking her off, eliciting a drawn-out moan of longing from her. Instead, I grasped each side of her gaping slit, and pulled.

To my surprise, it spread easily. I knew what to do. Holding her slit wide, pre drooling out of its dark and tempting depths, I pressed my head in. It slid in easily. I tried to shut my eyes, but it was useless, as they were held wide by the tightness of her deep urethra. Pre flooded my eyes, my ears, my nose, and my mouth. Given no other choice, I breathed deep, and was surprised that it was breathable. It filled my lungs and stomach, and both were soon bulging with the dark concoction.

Next were my shoulders. I stretched her incredible cock even wider, prompting a veritable flood of pre. With no other choice, I pushed hard with my feet, and sank myself up to just past my ass in her cock. My own dick, harder than it had ever been, just made it, with my balls and swollen anus still hanging out.

The sudden weight caused her cock to thump down on the bed, my legs dangling off the edge. I was suffused in her delicious warmth and pre. My body was pressed tight against her cock. I felt her grasp the base, held tight against my neck, and swung me up and over, so that my body lay against hers.

My ass was pressed over her face. Her talons dug into my cheeks as she pressed her mouth against my swollen sphincter. She didn't just kiss it, she made love to it. Her forked tongue, dripping with her saliva, pressed deep into my rectum. It thrust upwards, brushing and curling around my prostate, before running even deeper. I gasped as it turned and popped around the bend into my colon. She must've noticed my appreciation, as she began thrusting her tongue in and out of my deeper entrance.

I began humping her dick as I felt the vast volume of pre that I had swallowed start to leak from my anus. Despite not touching my cock, my fourth orgasm was fast approaching. Miranda pressed her face hard into my sphincter, and I gasped around the pre filling my mouth as her head pushed into my rectum. She pushed deeper, my hips somehow painlessly shifting around her passage. Her lips wrapped around my prostate, and began to suck.