The building looks far simpler than you expected.
You had assumed that a clinic run primarily by Succubi would be lavish, or that it would at least stand out compared to the rest of the structures on the block. But no, it looked just like any normal office building. If it weren't for the sign that said "Succubus Clinic", you might have even just walked right past without noticing that it was your destination.
You enter through the automatic sliding doors at the front of the dull building and are greeted by a waiting room. There are about a dozen other men here, sitting in chairs and browsing through their phones as casually as if they were awaiting a doctor's appointment. The only indicator as to the true nature of this establishment was the purple-skinned girl sitting behind the desk at the far end of the room.
As you begin your walk towards her, you feel an instinctual urge to back away from the demonic looking seductress. It didn't even feel that long ago that there were warning signs plastered all over the town:
BEWARE OF SUCCUBUS
SUCCUBUS ACTIVITY REPORTED
You've heard more than a few tales of men being found in the mornings, having been drained of their semen and life after a night of lonely drinking. But as you approach the Succubus at the counter, your fears are quelled by her unexpected demeanor. She turns towards you with a smile and a bouncy attitude as she says "Hello! How can we service you today?"
You realize that times are changing fast.
"Uh..." you respond, nervously. You are taken aback by her bubbly personality, you hadn't expected Succubi to be so... jovial.
She must have sensed your nerves, because she lists her head to the side and asks "First time, huh?" Her reassuring tone tells you that she has experienced this exact reaction before.
"Yeah..." you reply, accompanied by a nervous laughter that prompts an adorable chuckle out of the Succubus. "It's a pretty new situation for everyone, even us," says the Succubus, as she reaches under the counter and fiddles with a drawer. You take this opportunity to appreciate her outfit, which looks strikingly similar to a "Sexy Nurse" costume you saw at a frat party last Halloween. The outfit is tight, leaving no room to guess where her curves began and ended. As she bent down the dress threatened to rise up, which would reveal more than you ever had hoped to see from a Succubus. Luckily for you (or perhaps, unluckily?) a set of garter belts attached to her pitch-black stockings prevented you from seeing any sneak peeks.
The Succubus finally returns from beneath the desk with a form and a clipboard. She hands them to you along with a pen. "Just fill this out and bring it up to me when you're done. Make sure to fill out that you're a first timer. We offer special services to first timers," she says, winking slyly at you.
You take a seat in one of the open chairs, but don't put pen to paper just yet as you spend another minute watching the Succubus go back to typing on her computer. You don't know why, but everything this demoness does just exudes a sexiness that leaves you feeling tight in the chest. However, the longer you sit away from her the weaker this feeling becomes. This must be the aphrodisiac effect that they warned you about in your Succubus Safety classes in high school.
For centuries, Succubi had existed alongside humans as a threatening species, often going into towns and villages and stealing away their men. These men were supposedly kept as slaves and milked relentlessly of their semen, which Succubi require for sustenance. The process left men dead, so precautions were taken to protect humanity from the Succubus scourge. Recently, however, opinions have been shifting.
Over the past thirty years or so, Succubi had slowly figured out that it was much easier and efficient not to kill humans while they drank their semen. Instead, they would form relationships with men, and integrated themselves pretty well into human communities. And within the past five years, Succubi have started opening up clinics much like the one you're in right now, places for men to come and voluntarily donate their semen for Succubus consumption. These clinics first started opening up only in major metropolitan areas. Rave reviews started to pour in on the internet, and pretty soon every community wanted a Succubus Clinic of their own. And now finally, as of a month ago, your own small town received a Succubus Clinic of its own.
You turn your attention towards the form in front of you, almost turning red at some of the questions it was asking. The questions are simple to start: name, birth date, height, weight, pretty simple boilerplate stuff you'd expect before a doctor's exam. But as suddenly and unexpectedly as can be, the form hits you with the question "When was your last ejaculation?"
You look around at the other patrons of the facility, to see if there was anyone else as uncomfortable as you. There were a couple people filling out forms, but they did so without even batting an eye. They must be regulars, to be so unphased by the lascivious questionnaire. You press on, remembering that these places have been sold to you as being clean, proper, and... well... clinical. You write "four days" as your answer and press on through a list of ever escalating queries into your sexual history and preferences.
Finally, you reach the one question the Succubus at the desk had prepped you for. "Is this your first time visiting a Succubus Clinic?" You put a check mark next to YES and take a peek at the remainder of the questions that you don't have to answer. There were a wealth of them for anybody who came back for a return visit, some of which blew your mind.
"Please describe the appearance of your ideal Succubus Nurse."
