Winding Tails

This story was originally written for the Pandemonium event in September 2024.

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CHAPTER 1

When Anthony woke up and set off for work, it didn't enter his mind that he'd be involved in a devastating car accident. If he could see how utterly wrecked his car would get, he'd say there was no way in hell that anyone had survived. He would be correct, too. The whole thing was about to put a serious damper of his mood.

For now, however, everything was perfectly fine. He was cruising down the freeway, his trusty Honda doing its best to keep up with the cars behind him as he stubbornly clung to the fast lane. It was early Monday morning and the traffic was pleasantly light, although that would surely change as he approached the exit to downtown.

A wide yawn stretching his jaw, he twisted the knob of the old car radio, tuning it to what sounded like an 80s music channel. Although this era was a decade or so before his time, he found its hits quite pleasing to the ear and enjoyable. Soon, however, and to his mild irritation, the placid synthesizer tunes of Hall & Oates gradually faded away. They were replaced by a raspy, two-packs-a-day voice of a DJ who saw it fit to interrupt the music with his overly enthusiastic bleating.

"You might be out of touch but we are not!" he started, working in the station's name into his awkward quip. "And I've got some interesting bit of local news, boys and girls, that y'all should find quite amusing..."

"Oh yeah?" Tony challenged him, hand hovering around the gauge. "You've got five seconds to convince me."

"-- twelve men, aged twenty to twenty eight, were admitted to the city hospital over the weekend in some very mysterious circumstances. All of them suffered from extreme exhaustion and dehydration, but the doctors identified no obvious cause --"

"Drugs, man," Tony remarked with a shrug. "Probably LSD or some shit," he added, reaffirming his stance to never try anything spicier than a joint.

"-- expected to make full recovery with no lasting consequences," the radio host continued. "What's strange is that upon waking up, all twelve reported almost identical stories to the police. On Saturday, each man went to a club and noticed a strikingly attractive woman sitting alone at the bar. She was very receptive to his advances, and before long they were back at his apartment where, well, I don't suppose I have to spell it out for you..."

"Whores," Tony stated his incisive opinion again. "They probably robbed them too, huh?"

"-- pass out and remember nothing, until they woke up in the hospital bed. In every case, it was the woman herself who had called 911, but she would always leave before the paramedics arrived. Based on the guys' descriptions of the women, only two females seem to have been involved: both in early twenties, a tall brunette and an average-height redhead. Once again, we're talking about twelve men, and all of this happened over the span of maybe eight hours in different parts of the city."

"Huh... Now that's some very

efficient

whores," Tony remarked, finally conceding, "Alright, maybe there's really something weird to this story..."

"-- in excellent health and shape otherwise, and the only activity they engaged in has been, you know, of the intimate kind," the host alluded, a lewd chuckle woven into the throaty rasp of his voice. "Yeah, that must have been a very vigorous encounter... In any case, the police are still looking for the two women, but it's unclear whether there's anything to charge them with. Most of the men involved have already returned home. None has filed a report that'd allege, say, a sexual assault or burglary..."

Tony groaned. "Man, why nothing like this ever happens to me?" his question bounced off of the windshield. "A hot chick that's so wild, she leaves you too tired to even move? Where the hell do I find one?"

Bemoaning his sex life, which was decidedly less adventurous than the salacious news story, he listened to the rest of the report as it segued back into music. The traffic got progressively denser; he swerved into the exit lane and rolled off the ramp. He came to an abrupt halt right before the first stoplight, because it turned red the very moment he was about to speed up and dash through.

"Awesome," he said sarcastically, knowing it'd take a good minute to jostle through the busy crossing. He lowered the window and rested his arm on the car's door, daydreaming about the duo of those mysterious and sexy women. A dark brunette and a fiery redhead, huh? Some nice contrast there, he thought; it sure would look good if they were taking turns sucking on his hard cock...

His lewd reverie was interrupted by loud honking of the car behind him. It was interspersed with some rather indignant yelling from its driver.

"Oh, fuck off!" Tony yelled, as the engine of his car revved up and swiftly carried him forward.

He had the green light so he didn't pay much attention, and definitely not to his left flank. The crossing looked mostly empty anyway -- or at least it did a second ago, before this large truck came seemingly out of nowhere, zipping past the many vehicles that had queued up in the carpool lane. There was a rising wave of blaring horns as it passed by, which finally prompted Tony to turn his head and look.

By the time he did, it was already too late.

Going at over sixty miles per hour, the massive eighteen-wheeler flew out of the cross street and rammed into the driver door of his paltry Honda Accord. The impact diverted the large vehicle, just enough to smash into the nearby tree but not quite enough to fell it. Old roots were brutally ripped from the earth, ravaging the undercarriage and bringing the truck to a forced stop. Meanwhile, the half-flattened jumble of metal that used to be Tony's car spun across the intersection, hitting the sign that signaled the end of the freeway and practically wrapping itself around it.

Tony hadn't got much time to react. The only thing he managed to accomplish was to notice the two women in the truck. There was a charcoal-haired brunette in the driver seat, along with and a shorter, emerald-eyed redhead as the passenger.

But their bodies wouldn't be found in the grisly wreckage, and neither would be his.

***

"So? Did it work?"

"Duh! Does it look to you like it didn't?"

"Kind of?... All I see is just a motionless --"

"Give it time! There has to be an adjustment period, you know?"

"Fine, if you say so. Me and Dellira were just following your instructions after all..."

The two feminine voices spoke at the edge of his consciousness. He couldn't really tell whether it was only a dream. Given how alluring and downright sexy they sounded, it probably was.

***

Candles. Just some regular, old-fashioned waxen candles.

Many loomed overhead, affixed to an elaborate brass lattice that hung below the stony ceiling. A couple more flickered next to the wainscoted walls, giving out substantially more light than one would expect from their meager blazes. The chamber wasn't brightly lit but it was far from darkened, all those tiny flames suffusing it with an eerie scarlet tint. It condensed like a fog around the few pieces of furniture that were scattered around the room.

In the center stood a large bed with a sturdy wooden frame, covered in silky smooth sheets the color of deep crimson. On the bed lay a man who could be in his late twenties, an unruly mane of medium-length brown hair accompanied by neither a beard nor a mustache. He lay on his back with his eyes closed, arms flown to the side and legs spread apart: a prone pose, resembling the famous stance of Leonardo's

Vitruvian Man

. He too was naked, just like the man in that drawing, for no sheet had been thrown over his body and his clothes were nowhere to be found.

His chest rose and fell, matching the pace of his slow breaths. Slowly, his lids opened, admitting the images of the unfamiliar and unexpected setting. He squinted at first, the meager light irritating his retinas, and a grimace of discomfort crept over his face as he forced his lids to stay open.

In his head, many questions were gradually starting to form. Because of his jumbled state of mind, it would've taken a while before they'd make their way to the center of his drowsy consciousness.

Someone else in the room was evidently too impatient to wait.

"Finally, you're waking up!" said a velvety voice with a decidedly feminine timbre. "I was starting to get a little worried, you know?"

He blinked, and then he blinked again. Sitting up he groaned, shaking his head and instinctively reaching to touch and massage his neck. He wasn't sore or in pain; he was just utterly confused.

"What, uh... Where...?"

He tried to look around, eyes now accustomed to the modest level of lighting in the chamber. But he didn't manage to look very far, or take in much of the odd surroundings, because his gaze was immediately drawn to the source of the mysterious voice. Once it rested on it, he couldn't tear his eyes away.

"Oh my, you should see the look on your face," the cheeky remark came with a sultry giggle. "It never gets old, really..."

She was sitting on the soft cushioned chair in the corner, in the penumbra between two flickering candlelights. She stretched on it languidly, one of her long and amazingly shapely legs hanging over the other, acres of lightly brown and perfectly smooth skin on full display. Mouth agape, he followed these enticing lines and curves, and soon he found another wonder: the lush, fleshy expanse of her bountiful breasts.

Two round globes had been encased in a frilly beige bra, squashing them together and forming a tantalizing crevice. It invited bold glances, subtly and yet irresistibly, distracting him and at once capturing his complete attention. He stared at the luscious mounds, which swayed a bit when she shifted in her chair, taking in the erotic splendor that was barely concealed by the scant fabric.

"Mmm, seems like we found something you're liking here already," she chirped seductively, giving the cup of her bra a gentle tug and letting it smack against the firm flesh of her boobs. "But I've got more than just tits, you know?"

He let out a gasp. "I... Sorry, I was --"

"Like my ass, for example," she cut him off. "Or my legs? You kind of liked them, too... And yes, my face as well. I like to think that these glasses make me look sexy. What do you think?"

Blinking again, even more confused now, he somehow managed to leave her sumptuous bosom and move his gaze higher. What he saw there made him give out another gasp as he lay his eyes on her beautiful visage.

Sporting a mischievous, almost devilish grin, it was a vision of nubile perfection. It was youthful, yes, but also far, far from innocent. The smoky gaze sized him up from behind the thick-rimmed glasses, as the puffy red lips were briefly parted by the rosy flick of her tongue. Long tresses of hazel-blond hair fell down the dimpled, slightly blushing cheeks, and even though the mane above her forehead looked strangely unkempt, the two odd twirls only complimented her otherworldly beauty.

"I... I don't know," he stammered, giving a rather unsatisfying answer to her question.

In truth, she did look incredibly sexy in her spectacles, but she'd look just as alluring without them. This woman, whoever she was, was practically an embodiment of lustful sensuality. The more he stared at her, unable to focus his attention anywhere else, the less inclined he was to ponder the pertinent questions about his current circumstances.

"Well, I can tell you approve of them, too," she teased him playfully. "In fact, I seem to be getting quite a rise out of you, in a manner of speaking..."

Her eyes moved down his body as she said this, eventually stopping at a very prominent feature that occurred just below his waist. The grin that curled her lips became even more impish, and she gave a sultry purr as she licked them. When the man realized what it was she was looking at, it also dawned on him, finally, that he was showing even more flesh than the scantily clad vixen.

"Wait, what the hell?!" he cried out, hands moving at a lightning speed to cover his exposed crotch. "Where... where are my clothes?"

She shrugged, uncrossing her legs and allowing a pair of skimpy panties to come into view. Her gaze didn't leave the spot she'd been staring at previously, even though the object of her interest was now mostly covered under his cupped palms.

"They didn't make it through," she answered. "Inanimate things require extra energy cross over, but why expend it if you aren't going to need them anyway?"

He squinted, watching her grip the armrests as she propped up her curvaceous body. She stood up and took a few steps towards him, each one emphasized by the pendulous sway of her wide hips.

"Ugh, what?" he blurted out, understanding nothing from her explanation. "What do you -- No, wait...

Who

are you?"

She stopped then, her smirk softening, now resembling something akin to warm smile. "Ah yes, my name... For you, it can simply be Nyala," she said, the word flowing through the air like a sweet melody. "Of course, if I were introducing myself to someone of my kind, then I'd also mention the coven I come from. But I don't think it would have any meaning to you now, so let's just keep it simple," she added, then repeated once again, "Nyala."

He blinked several times, trying to make any sense of this bizarre introduction. "Your... kind?"

"Why, yes! Haven't you noticed? It's not like I've been doing much to hide it." She stepped forward, into the brighter light of the brass chandelier, revealing, to his astonished gaze, that the lumps above her forehead weren't just stray tufts of hair. "I am a succubus!... What? Didn't they teach you anything in school?"

It was undeniable: those two odd tricks of the light weren't actually clumps of uncombed hair. They revealed themselves to be a pair of a small horns, a couple inches long and curled inwards, ending with narrow but seemingly blunt tips. They were close in hue to her skin, a tanned shade of beige, lined with shallow groves that ran along most of their curving length.

"N-no..." he stuttered, wavering between sheer amazement and utter terror. "Uh, I... I mean..."

His flabbergasted expression made her giggle. She indulged in this amusement, seductively twirling a lock of hair around the ivory protrusions. At the same time, she also saw it fit to present to him another unexpected feature of her body.

From behind, snaking just below her cinched waist, came a very thin and extremely agile tail. It was perfectly smooth and black, glimmering in the warm light of the room, as it lashed and writhed about, striking the air and producing unsettling whooshes and whizzes. It was no thicker than the average electric cable but much longer and seemingly more flexible. It was bending in all sorts of ways, quickly and decisively, as it slithered towards the shocked and increasingly frightened man.

"Hands off, please!" she requested, before smacking his palms with the very tip of her sleek tail. As he recoiled in stinging pain, gasping and rubbing the backs of his hands, the sinuous appendage slid in before his eyes and playfully wiggled. At the end of it there was a tiny nib in the shape of a heart, the two halves flapping like fins of a manta ray, while the pointed tip bent repeatedly, as though nodding, or perhaps even bowing to him teasingly. "Mmm yes, this is much better..."

Without the cover of his hands, the man's loins were fully exposed once more. It was now obvious why he had been doubly embarrassed to show them. Jutting forward, his respectably sized cock was rock-hard and twitching, its mushroom head swaying to the rhythm of his quickened heartbeat. He loudly gasped, both in pleasure and horror, as the dexterous tail of the succubus coiled itself around his pulsing erection. It gave every throbbing inch of his shaft a lascivious squeeze, hitting them all at the same time for a sudden jolt of forceful sensations.

"This is mine now!" she declared, a lustful gleam in her eye. "Since I did most of the work to bring you here, it is only right that I get to sample you first, don't you think?"

There was no answer from the terrified man. He swallowed hard, totally paralyzed, as he watched the owner of the infernal tendril climb on the bed and scoot toward him. With a raunchy grin she pushed him to lie down, moving like a feline predator to position herself above his helplessly erect dick. She was naked now, having somehow discarded what little material had been covering her sensational body, the rosy nipples standing proud atop her magnificent cantaloupes. Purring seductively, she hefted them with both hands and shot him a saucy wink, the thick black glasses still resting on her cutely flaring nose.

"Oh, but feel free to touch them, too," she encouraged him, kneading the fleshy spheres and moaning, as though oblivious to the look of abject panic that was painted on his pale face. Despite this fear, however, part of him was still captivated by the unbelievable nude beauty, who straddled his lap and hovered above his achingly hard cock. "No? Not even a little? Well, perhaps I'm moving a little too fast for your liking... Am I, though?" she asked, drawing out his straining, groaning response as she squeezed his cock with her tail once again. "Mmm, yes, that's what I thought. You are more than ready for me, stud!"

Fingers still digging into her supple breasts, Nyala loosened her grip on his cock but didn't release it fully. Instead, she used her tail to keep his twitching shaft steady, guiding it into the hot, juice-slicked confines of her devilishly tight pussy. Once the head was in, she sat on it in one decisive move, letting out a lengthy, almost relieved moan and forcing a series of gasps and low grunts from the scared and surprised man.

"Ooooh, this does feel good," she said huskily, shimmying around the sizeable shaft and adjusting it inside her moist, gently pulsing vagina. "What about you, big boy? Enjoying yourself, even just a little?"

He didn't say anything. At first, he only stared at the mysterious creature, so obviously feminine, with a stunningly gorgeous physique and the most amazing pussy he had ever felt. Its slick walls quivered around his solid dick, massaging every bit of the turgid rod in all sorts of delightful ways. She bounced and gyrated, moving vigorously astride his lap, that long slithering tail coiled behind her and steadying her frantic motions. She rode him hard, enthusiastically, and yet with practiced ease, as if anticipating every gasp and every lustful moan that his cock alone had no trouble wringing out of her sexually charged body. She didn't need his participation, really, but it was still welcome, as the sultry vixen would glance at him longingly, sometimes catching his blank gaze and leading it down her gloriously nude figure.

The immensely pleasurable sensation, of this nubile temptress writhing on top of him and shamelessly flaunting her amazingly sexy body, was slowly but surely forcing itself to the forefront of his consciousness. It inexorably chipped away at the fear and confusion he was feeling, eroding those negative emotions and replacing them with surging arousal.

He finally whispered, "A... succubus?"

She slowed down, at the end of one drawn-out moan, sighing softly and looking at him with a lustful smirk. "Yes... A demon of lust and pleasure," she hissed breathlessly. "You might've heard... some myths or legends... You shouldn't really believe... most of them..."

His eyes went wide, words slowly sinking into his lust- and fear-addled mind. A demon?... But she did seem mostly human, didn't she? Other than the horns and tail, she looked pretty much like a young, stunningly beautiful, and very sexually forward woman. He tried to jog his memory, to perhaps recall some of those myths and legends she mentioned, but it was exceedingly difficult when this vision of absolute erotic perfection was grinding against his straining dick.