Contract with a Succubus

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Author's Notes: Hi all, I'm back with another story of extreme sizes and far-fetched scenarios! Much like my last story, this one features some of my go-to kinks, including but not limited to: Extreme Penis Size, Extreme Breast Size, and Excessive Cum. This particular story also includes Fantasy, light Penis Growth and Breast Growth elements, and a nerdy guy getting all of his sexual fantasies fulfilled. If any of the above topics are a no-go for you, please skip over this story. I understand that my works appeal to a pretty niche audience, but that niche audience includes me, so I'll continue to write what I enjoy.

I tried to write a story focusing on the interactions and relationship between the two main characters (of course in addition to the over-the-top sex), but I'm still learning. As such, this story is significantly longer than my previous work. The action starts about 1/4 of the way in, so you can skip straight into it if that's what you prefer.

I'm still pretty new to writing, so feel free to point out any area where I can improve. If you have any tips, recommendations, criticisms, or comments of any kind, feel free to post that below and I'll be sure to see it!

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I stood in my new house in a daze. It was my first time setting foot in here since my grandfather had passed away just a few weeks ago and left the place to me. I loved the guy, but he wasn't exactly a spring chicken when he passed away of natural causes last month. He'd had a long and very prosperous career as a business owner and venture capitalist, and he was also the best grandfather anyone could ask for. When I was a kid he came to all of my dumb recitals and sports games, we'd go fishing and he'd let me talk his ears off, we'd play silly, harmless pranks on each other, he took me to arcades, movies, you name it. But what I appreciate him for the most is that he never once judged me for . . . well, I guess there's no delicate way to put this. I'm a nerd.

I was the boy who read books during lunch break. I know fictional geography better than I know my own neighborhood. I would run with my arms behind my back. I took Japanese as a foreign language in college just so I could watch anime without subtitles. Now, at age 25, I can tell you the type, strengths, weaknesses, and general stat distribution of every Pokémon just by looking at its picture. As a professional nerd, I have a long and storied tenure, that's all I'm saying. An unfortunate side effect of being a turbo-nerd is that a relationship just wasn't going to happen. I was too shy and self-conscious to approach ladies, so I'd never even held a girl's hand, much less . . . done anything else.

The house looked exactly the same as it did while my grandfather was alive: a sparsely furnished two bedroom / three bath, with a sizable family room and back yard. As an only child, I had it all to myself! The last stop on my circuit was the kitchen, where I found something unusual laying on the counter.

It was a plain manila envelope, big enough to hold a stack of papers. There was a sticky note attached to it, in my grandfather's handwriting, with the following message:

"Andrew,

This is my final gift to you. With it, I hope you will learn a great many things.

- Grandpa James"

Weird. My grandfather could have just given me this whatever-it-is while he was still around. Why wait until he passed away?

"Well, only one way to find out," I said to myself as I opened the envelope.

The instant the seal broke, there was a knock at the door. I hesitated for a second, wondering if I should get the door or take a look at whatever was in the envelope. But I didn't want to seem rude to my new neighbors, so I went to answer the door.

I opened the door to find a woman standing on the porch. She looked a few years older than me, maybe thirty-five at the very oldest. She was dressed a little warmer than the late-summer weather called for, with a long-sleeve spring green top and a matching frilly skirt that ended just below her knees.

"Hey! You're Andrew, right? You just moved in?" she asked, a pleasant smile on her face.

It took me a second to realize that I was staring. The smile wasn't the only pleasant thing on her face. It's as if someone read my mind and created a person who was 100% distilled "cute." Her dark brown hair was tied back in a messy bun, bangs falling over her large brown eyes. She had a soft kind of face, with a short button nose and lips that were made for smiles. She stood a few inches shorter than me in simple flats. In a word, she was perfectly, impossibly cute.

"Uh, yeah," I said, hoping she didn't notice a pause. "It's great to meet you!"

"It's great to meet you, too. I'm Connie. James told me that someone might move in here sooner or later. He asked me to show you around, you know, to get acquainted with the house. Do you mind if I come in?"

Hmmm, let me think. A pretty woman asks to come into my new house. As much as this was completely uncharted territory for me, the answer was obvious.

"No, of course. Right this way!" I stood aside and gestured her inside, closing the door behind us.

"Have you opened the envelope yet?" Connie asked. "Your grandfather said he'd leave something for you on the counter."

"Actually, I was right about to," I said, "but that can wait if you want to give me a tour."

"No no" she said. "The tour can wait. If James left you something, you should take a look at it first."

"Alright. Well, uh, make yourself at home."

"Thanks," she said with a smile, taking a seat on the couch in the adjoining living room.

I reached into the envelope and pulled out a stack of papers. Before I started reading, I snuck a glimpse at Connie on the sofa. It blew my mind that I was alone in my new house with a lady, especially such a pretty lady. She had taken off her shoes and put her feet up on the sofa, lounging there perfectly at ease, lying with her arms behind her head, facing away from me. This had never happened to me before. Not even close. My palms began to sweat a little.

Right, the papers. There were about forty sheets in all. The top few looked like modern printer paper, but the ones on bottom looked more like old-timey parchment. I looked at those first, but they didn't make any sense. I didn't even recognize what language they were written in. Why would Grandpa James leave me these?

Maybe the top pages would yield more information. They were written in English at least, so that's a pretty good start. The first one was hand-written, signed by my grandpa. It read:

"Andrew, I've told you about a lot of my business ventures, but there were some that I've never revealed to anyone. Things that nobody would believe even if I told them. Things that are, frankly, downright impossible. The papers here that I leave to you contain one of those impossibilities. Once you read what exactly it is, you are going to want proof. I asked Connie to answer all of your questions. She has proof about what you'll soon read. Feel free to ask her any and all questions that come to mind, I promise that you can trust her completely.

"There's really no way to prepare you for what's coming, so just try to keep an open mind. Back when I was a whippersnapper, about your age, I made a transaction with a real eccentric fella. I helped him get a startup off the ground, and in exchange he gave me this very contract. Whether he knew what he gave me or not, I'll never know. All these years later I haven't been able to track him down. In any case, the contract passed to me. And now I pass it on to you. It's yours now, and can't nobody or nothing take it away from you without express permission.

"So what's the contract for? I guess I've stalled long enough. Way back when, hundreds of years ago, somebody managed to bind in servitude a real, honest-to-goodness demon. From Hell. Horns, wings, forked tail, the whole nine yards. A succubus who calls herself Azalea, forever at the command of the person who owns the contract.

"Before that person passed away, they made arrangements for an heir to inherit the contract, and thus inherit mastery over the succubus. For centuries, owner has passed to heir, as the man passed it down to me, and as I now pass it down to you. Pretty cool, eh?

"Again, I know that you must not believe me. I didn't believe the man either. Until I met the succubus. You may have figured out by now (congrats!) that Connie's the succubus. She'll have all of the answers to any demon-related questions that I'm sure you have, and she can furnish proof about what you've just read.

"There's no obligation on your part for any of this. If you're sure you don't want to be the owner of this contract, just tell Connie who you want to designate as the new owner. They'll be the new owner, but make sure that's what you want. Once you sign the contract over, there's no way to coerce the new owner to return it to you. An heir can only be named at the owner's behest, given by choice.

"And that about wraps it up. I'm sure I've already given you my farewells, so I won't take any more time out of your day.

"Grandpa James"

It took me a few seconds to realize that I was done reading. I just stood there in disbelief. Then, without thinking about it, I started to smile. Soon I had a dumb grin on my face from ear to ear. Of course Grandpa James would play an elaborate joke on me like this, telling me from beyond the grave that demons exist and that he entered into some kind of agreement with one. Trying to share in my interests one last time. One final prank.

It was all too much. I laughed. Big, uncontrolled belly laughs that left me gasping for air between outbursts. With all of the emotions that came with losing my grandpa mixed up with the ridiculousness of this last joke, I couldn't help it.

A few gasps in, Connie walked over to me, standing on the opposite side of the counter. She let me carry on until my laughter calmed down, reduced to occasional giggling. "That's about how I expected you to react," she said.

"Well, yeah," I said. "It was good, you really had me going there for a second, with the official envelope and the old papers and the weird language. Thanks for agreeing to this, I really needed that laugh!"

She nodded seriously, as if she expected me to say that, too. "I understand that you think this is a joke, Andrew, but it isn't. I am a demon."

"Okay, don't push it," I said back politely. "I appreciate you for helping him with this, really, but you can drop it now. Demons don't exist, and even if they did, I don't believe that my grandpa would keep one indentured to him."

"What if I could show you?"

She said to so earnestly that it brought the dopey grin back to my face. Chuckling again, I said, "You can't though, they're not real. I fought a demon in Dungeons and Dragons, I killed them in DOOM, they don't actually --"

Connie cut me off. "They do, actually," she said seriously. "They do live in Hell, preying on the weak and the careless. They do haunt the dreams of man and coerce your kind to do our bidding. We do scheme against those above until one of us is unlucky enough to fall into the trap of a clever human, bound eternally into servitude."

It was an impressive act so far. I was almost willing to play along to see how far Connie would go.

And then she began to transform.

"I do have skin as red as blood." Right before my eyes, her entire body shimmered as if seen through mist at a distance, and when she came back into focus, her skin had turned a deep crimson. "Magic does course through me, available to my beck and call." An impressive ball of orange fire appeared in her open hand. "And I do, as your grandfather said, have horns, wings, and a forked tail. The whole nine yards." Two curved horns sprouted from the top of her head. A set of huge, bat-like wings unfurled from her back. A long, thin tail snaked out from around her backside, split in two about a foot before the end.

She gathered herself up to her full height, growing taller right in front of me, until she literally lifted herself a few feet off the ground by slowly flapping her leathery wings. "You may call me Azalea, mortal, and thank me for the pleasure!" Her voiced had changed from a pleasant suburbanite's to a deep, commanding one that rattled in my brain as much as my ears. "What you read is the truth. I am a succubus! Do you require further proof?" As she said that, her ruby eyes glowed with an otherworldly fire, and the real-world fire in her hand leapt and crackled menacingly.

I couldn't answer. I couldn't speak. I couldn't think. I could only stand behind the counter, eyes locked on the floating red . . . demon just a few feet away. It should have been impossible. It was impossible! Except she was right there.

She took my brain's momentary dry heaving as an answer to her question. "Good. Now that we can behave ourselves . . ." Azalea lowered herself back to the ground. The ball of fire disappeared from her hand. She shimmered again, and she reappeared as the Connie who met me by the door, no horns, no wings, no tail. ". . . feel free to ask me whatever you like," she said with a sweet smile.

It still took me a few seconds to close my mouth, and about a minute longer before I could form thoughts. She's a succubus. A demon was sitting in a bar stool across from me, just on the other side of the counter. A -- a what? A person, a creature, a spirit -- an entity from Hell, captured by someone a long time ago to do their bidding. And now they're . . .

"How . . .?" My voice cracked and I trailed off. I didn't even know what I was going to ask, I was still having trouble wrapping my head around all this.

"'How' what, Andrew?" the succubus asked. "'How did a demon get captured by a mortal?'"

Actually, that was one of the few questions I didn't have. I doubted I would even understand the answer, and it would probably have a lot to do with magic or something.

I shook my head. "No, how does . . . how does this work?" My voice sounded thin and hollow in my ears. "My grandpa's letter said you were bound to his service or something like that. What does that, like, mean?"

She nodded slowly, seeming to pick her words carefully. "It means as long as you own my contract, you can make any command to me and I must complete it to the best of my ability. I'll suffer hideous consequences if I outright refuse. We demons are immortal, but we can still feel pain, and I'll suffer greatly if I disobey you. So I'd rather avoid that if it's within my power."

"Okay," I said with slightly less uncertainty, "so how's this going to work? Are you going to live here with me, forever?"

"Would you like me to?" She asked it with such sincerity that it caught me off guard.

"I dunno, what would you like to do?"

That elicited a small smile from Azalea. "Andrew, let me explain some things to you about succubi. I may look like a human woman -- at least, I do now, not before when I showed you how I really look -- but I'm not. I'm a demon, one that's been bound by rites to do as my mistress or master commands. It would take far more than the likes of you to set me free, and let me assure you that you really don't want that." Her eyes glowed bright as flame again, and a devious grin spread across her face.

After a brief pause, her eyes returned to normal, but her grin stayed. "As for what I want, there is only one thing that I crave, aside from serving the owner of my contract. It's what all succubi crave: sexual energy. I would eventually wither to a hollow spirit without it. Your kind are like sexual batteries to us. Whenever you do anything even somewhat-related to sex -- having sex, fantasizing about having sex with someone, driving a nice car in the hopes that it'll improve your chances of getting laid -- it generates varying amounts of energy. Imagine steam coming off a pot of boiling water for mild thoughts, up to the roaring spray of a mighty waterfall for . . . passionate love-making. I don't require food to survive, or water, or even air. I just need that."

Now, I've heard of succubi before from Dungeons and Dragons and stuff, so I was passingly familiar with sex-absorbing she-demons. But to have it put so bluntly by a cute lady was a little off-putting, and even more weird was the fact that she was describing herself.

"So that's it?" I asked. "This contract means that you have sex with me for all eternity?"

The grin fell from her face, replaced by a look of mild concern. "No, no Andrew. First of all, there's no obligation on your part. If you don't want to have sex with me, you don't have to. I can get sexual energy from anywhere in this world that's inhabited by people. Most of you don't even realize that you make it, and it doesn't hurt them or anything when I 'eat' it."

"And second, it's not like that's all I ever do. In the same way that you'd die if you didn't drink water for a week, it's not like your kind does nothing but drink water all day. It's just that, in this analogy, I can drink a whole swimming pool at once and I wouldn't have to drink again for months. Not with water, for me it's with, like, sex, but that's not the point. My point is that I can do other things besides have sex with you. I've inhabited this world for a long time by your human standards, and in that time I've grown accustomed to living here. I've made my own friends, I have a job, I have my own hobbies up here. But my attachment to all that is as a candle before the Hell fires of my devotion to you, my master."

"You don't have to--" I started to say, but she gestured for me to stop. She looked my in the eyes, as serious as I've ever seen anybody

"I'm not a human, Andrew. I look like one and sound like one, but Succubi work differently than you do. You can give the command, and I will rearrange my life here entirely. And I'll be happy about it, truly. No aspect of my life is off-limits to you, nothing brings me greater happiness that doing something that makes you happy. This isn't a trick. It's not the pretty demon batting her lashes to beguile an unsuspecting mortal until he slips up and she can reign terror across the realms of man. Demons don't work the same way as humans. I am yours now. Genuinely, I can be whatever you want me to be, and I am happy when you are happy."

Azalea fell silent while I went over what she said. From my perspective, it seemed like a big responsibility. I'd never even had a girlfriend before, and now I had absolute control over a woman's life? Granted, the woman in this case was a succubus who's literally indentured to me until I assign her to be indentured to someone else, but still! It's a lot to think about.

There were still a few questions I had. "So, you can use magic. I saw that with the . . . the demonstration earlier, so I believe you. But how does that work, exactly? How is it going to change my life to be the owner of your contract?"

She let out a small, polite giggle. "You really can't think of anything? To answer you question about how my magic works, I can absorb ambient sexual energy and use it to cast spells. As a succubus, I can only use magic in a way that relates to sex, but we've found that restriction to be basically pointless. We're succubi. Our very existence revolves around sex, so any way I use my power relates to sex."

"Would you like a new car?" She waved her hand and produced a car key. "As long as I believe that you're going to fuck someone in that car, I can make it. Would you like money?" She reached over the counter and into my shirt pocket, pulling out several hundreds that weren't there a second ago. "If I can convince myself that you're going to use this money to get laid -- whether or not you actually plan to, and whether or not you ever do -- I can make you a billionaire." Azalea tossed up the money, where it fluttered around her, each bill disappearing just before it hit the ground. "You'll find that there are few things I cannot do with magic."