Introduction:
You know the generic information; if under the age of 18, don't read the bloody thing. Like that has stopped kids in the past in the first place? Anyhow. This starts with a good deal of sex, but tames down some, because it has an actual plot to go along with it too! Imagine that, a story with a plot? Well anyhow, it has a mix match of several types of groupings to be bunched up all into one. I'm not going to list them just yet since they will probably be too numerous to count, or at least I hope so.
If you got past this without rolling your eyes once, or skipped over this in the first place, then you missed a poorly written triad about nothing except you've been warned.
~Cyberpawz~
Chapter 1: Sam
As most stories start with, we start with our "Hero," well here, we don't, this isn't like any other story you've read so far, and this is my story. So we start with the bad guy, the evil doer, hell lets just get down to it, and lets just say she isn't the type of woman you'd like to bring home to Mom, Dad, or even a Stag Party, she'd rip your guts out for looking at her the wrong way and call it a productive day, and that is if she is in a good mood.
So you got an idea of her tempter, lets get down to her as a person now, if you can call her that is. She stands at five feet even, and she prefers it that way too, easy access to what she likes the most about guys in the first place, or so she says. Her skin is nearly alabaster white, and it isn't because she doesn't spend time outside, this is how she portrays herself in this lifetime. Yes, you read right, this lifetime. She is older than she looks by several centuries, although no one knows her true age, she is old enough to remember when the Romans were just starting in small clay domiciles, and even further than that if she ever dared to reminisce. Her eyes, a steel grey, they are the only sign of her age, they are hard, and piercing, and although she smiles, and laughs, her eyes always portray another story. She would be considered lithe in build, all except for her feminine attributes.
At five feet even, and vixen red hair with raven black tips that caress her ass when she walked, she would make any woman envious, jealous, or sympathetic of her "plight," and any man wanting to see more, much more... having wide and firm hips, with a tight and strong looking ass, always got the men looking, once they reached her bust though, whiplash, and rubbernecking had an a tendency to occur. She used her body's attributes to get what she wanted when she wanted it, and she had no sympathy upon doing so either. Men were to be used, and not loved.
Her hands were small, but had strength to them that very few noticed, because the fingers were adorned with jewelry. Her fingernails were pointed to a slight tip, in where if she wanted to, she could use them as weapons, but mainly she used them to draw blood from her latest sexual conquest. They were always painted in black, blood red, or both, which were her favorite, it was easy in this century to find someone who could do this, it was such a pain back a few hundred years ago. Her legs were tone, very strong, but kept their femininity to them. Through history she has received several tattoos, and multiple piercings along her body, it is amazing what was once taboo is now considered sexy, and provocative she mused several times as she watched several men's eyes glitter at she described where they were in detailed descriptions. Oh and for your information, she has a name, but she goes by the name Sam now, the rest will be explained later on.
She enjoyed the hunt, enjoyed the challenge, enjoyed the looks of betrayal that her prays' lover, husband, or wife, has as she takes them away for a night of unimaginable sexual lust, and bliss, or at least that is what they remember. Today was like any other night or so she thought, sitting on a plush bed with blood red silk sheets, covering a black satin bed, Sam looked across the bed, her latest conquest. On her scale he was a four maybe a five, which was high in this day and age, men lacked imagination, the aggressiveness that once gripped their soul, their hearts, and their libido. She loved to be ravaged, loved to be taken advantage of, or let the man think she was being taken advantage of that is. She played the victim well, she loved letting men think she was the submissive, someone who loved being told what to do. In all honesty, a small part of her did, but in truth, she was always in control, and tonight was no exception.
He was easy to manipulate; getting him out of the dance club from his girlfriend was child's play. Of course, once he saw the cleavage she was sporting, the tell tale signs of lust and the ever protruding hard-on always made life so much easier. Teasing his libido with forbidden sexual promises, and things she would let him do to her, was nearly all it took. The girlfriend started to rebel, and attempted to get "her man" back, but it was a waste of time. Once the guy or girl was in Sam's hands, they were hers to play with as she found fit. When the guy wakes up tomorrow, and she isn't there, the spell will be broken, and he will be begging for forgiveness later on from his probably now ex.
The guy in her "Seduction bed" wasn't a prime specimen of what today's man can be, but she never went for the all brawn, no brain studs, for her imagination and some experiences were more rewarding. Sure, the average stud could go hours upon hours of slamming into her pussy until he was worn out, but why bother? That is what a dildo or one of her slaves was for. She looked at his back and grinned; her mark was there, nearly twenty lines of "claw" marks on his back that will indefinitely take some time to heal.
Her nails slowly sliding up and down the inner thigh of his leg, seeing whether she can still get a reaction out of him; she smiles as she sees his cock twitch in an attempt to get hard. She begins a quiet chant and slowly blows some cold air onto his cock; it starts to become hard as she wraps her hand around it. She muses as she watches it grow as her ministrations start to take effect. It becomes a little larger than what he came in with, but the spell will only last the night, but that is all she needs him for. One night of pleasure will feed her needs for at least a day or two, it really matters how much sexual energy she can cull from her "lover" at that given time.
No, she isn't a succubus but one of the reasons she has lived as long as she has, has given her the abilities or at least a limited version of what a succubus can do. It was a part of her life she would rather forget, but living as she has is a constant reminder of whom she is and what is expected of her when the time comes. Which often she hopes never will, for she can die; which if she does, breaks her mortal coil, but condemns her to a place she would rather never have to see. If she does, what is expected of her, there is a slim chance of redemption, but there are never any guarantees. No one ever said living was easy.
The guy's cock has nearly inflated to its normal size, but as she continues to chant his cock starts to take on a thicker and longer look, the veins becoming more prominent as the skin becomes taut. She licks the tip and is rewarded with a dollop of precum, it normally is a little bitter, but with her enchantment it can taste from anything between the finest white wine from the French vineyards, to the tenderest lobster just caught and prepared by some of the top chefs in the world, to the sweetest chocolate any mortal lips have ever tasted. Every cock is different under this enchantment, but she is never disappointed, for not only does it change the size of the cock, the flavor of cum, but also it produces much more volume, which is exactly what she is after.