Succubi

“Dooer, dooer.”

The nightmare’s eye showed it all, never faces, just the naked figures bowed in attendance. A cup was being passed around, engraved with the same emblem on the wall. Then came more words, issuing in liquid softness:

“Dother fo Dother, Dother fo Dother.”

And the final vertiginous image: the bright-bladed knife plunging down—

slup-slup-slup

—time after time to the hilt, into soft flesh…

Ann’s eyes snapped open in the dark. A slice of faint pink light canted in through the window. The clock glowed 4:12 a.m.

She lay on her side in a fetal shape. She watched several minutes pass on the clock, and soon the nightmare began to fade from her mind. She began to feel better. She could hear Martin breathing lightly behind her, and then she felt his hand slide over her breasts. At first she wanted to rebel, slap the hand away. She was still mad at him, she remembered, but his hand on her breasts felt so good, so soothing. The sensation pushed the dream out of her head completely, leaving desire in its place. She moaned as the fingers tended the nipple, gorging it. Next, his hands were pushing her nightgown up over her rump. Ann kept her eyes closed. Suddenly, she felt…lewd. She opened her legs at once, inviting him. His hands lay her out on her back; his penis nudged her once as he moved down in the dark. The glans felt hard as a knob of polished wood. He pushed her knees up to her chin and began to go down on her.

She whined at the initial contact of his tongue, then moaned steadily. Gently, and slowly at first, his tongue traced up and down the groove of her sex. Ann felt a flood of moisture and desire collide; she hugged her knees to her chest as the tongue delved harder and more precisely. Martin was going down on her more deftly than she could remember. He made her feel so good so fast that she forgave him instantly of his drunkenness and his coming home so late. The synchronicity of his mouth and tongue against the rhythmic tremors of her hips drew her horniness out like a tension rod being twisted and twisted. Soon it would have to snap…

She was going to come, but she didn’t want to, not yet. She wanted to come with him inside of her. “Fuck me now,” she panted. She never talked dirty in bed, but tonight she couldn’t restrain herself. She’d never felt like this, so wound up, so primitively horny. “Put your cock in me.”

Martin’s soft poet’s hands turned her over on her belly, then hauled her hips up. The roughness with which he positioned her was almost brutal, but she liked it—the promptness, the immediacy of his desire. He knelt behind her splayed rump; she felt like a bitch in heat waiting to be mounted. One hand came around her hip, the fingers opening her. Ann tensed as the gorged glans nudged into her sex. All she could feel right now was her need, like electricity humming from the swollen points of her nipples to the warm pocket of her sex. It made his penis feel huge and surreally hard. She almost shrieked when he thrust it all into her at once.

He was so deep in her. One hand braced her thigh, the other came around and plied her clitoris as his thrusts drew in and out. The pleasure was excruciating. The potentiality of her orgasm ticked in her loins like a bomb about to go off. She buried her face in the pillow, to increase the angle and depth of the penetration. It was too much, too many sensations waiting to break at once. Her hands twisted the sheets into knots, her teeth bit into the pillow.

“I love you, Martin,” she panted. She couldn’t believe what she said next. “You fuck me so good, I love it when you fuck me like this. Do it harder, honey. Fuck me harder.”

Her request was obliged. His penis pushed into her so deep she thought she’d scream. He grabbed her hand and made her touch herself as he doubled the pace of his thrusts. His hips slapped the back of her thighs. He was pounding her, his penis plunging steadily in and out as she massaged the tip of her sex with her own fingers. Her breath hissed out of her throat, the pillowcase tore against her teeth. Her orgasm exploded.

The first was an abrupt, flexing burst, followed by strings of smaller pulses that didn’t want to end. His penis continued to reel orgasms out of her loins like strings of large pearls. It felt so good, so delicious, that tears squeezed out of her eyes.

Soon she was so sore and sensitive she could bear no more. Martin’s thrusts ebbed, then he stopped fully, his penis still buried in her. She eased forward, felt it slip out. “I want you to come now,” she whispered. Martin remained upright on his knees. She turned around in the dark. She unhesitantly grasped his penis at its base and took the gorged glans into her mouth. She could taste the wet salt of her own musk. But something was strange, something she noticed at once.

“You sure as shit aren’t going to make me come like that,” her bed companion remarked.

My…God, Ann thought. Her movements froze. Her eyes peeled open as she moved her mouth off.

It was not Martin who had made the remark. It was Milly.

The bed lamp flicked on. Ann looked up, aghast. Milly knelt before her on the bed, naked, the set of her mouth part grin, part sneer. But…but…was all Ann could think until she lowered her gaze. Jutting from betwixt Milly’s legs was a heinous parody of the male sex organ, attached to the nurse’s hips with straps. Ann was disgusted. No wonder it felt so huge—it was huge. It looked like a miniature table leg, polished smooth with a rounded knob. It was black, shining. Even veins had been fashioned along the rubber shaft.

“Don’t look so surprised,” Milly said. “You came, didn’t you?”

“How did—what—” Ann stammered. A brief glance showed her Milly’s room, not her and Martin’s. Ann immediately pulled her nightgown down and crawled back. What was she doing here?

“Come on, Ann,” Milly said. “Don’t pretend. You liked it.”

“I thought you were Martin!”

“Don’t hand me that shit. You started it. You came to me.”

Had she? I must have, Ann realized. “I was confused, from earlier, I mean. I must’ve been disoriented.”

“Bullshit. You wanted it, and you got it.”

Milly’s grin terrified her as much as the sight of the heinous black phallus, which the nurse then gave a mocking stroke. Next, she touched her sex beneath the thing’s base. Ann saw, with further outrage, that the rubber penis even came complete with molded testicles. Milly’s breasts were smaller than Ann’s, and somewhat flat, with large oblong brown nipples. The nipple ends stood out like round wall studs.

“Okay, lover,” Milly said. “My turn now.”

“No! I… It was a mistake!”

Milly wouldn’t hear of it. She pushed Ann roughly onto her back, then straddled over her and unstrapped the penis. “Lie back,” she ordered. She actually put her hand to Ann’s throat as she crawled over her. Between her breasts, there was an odd pendant of some kind, a pale stone on a white string. Milly poised her sex over Ann’s face, one knee at Ann’s armpit, and her other foot planted on the pillow.

“Milly… No…”

Milly chuckled. Her pubis was a great, light brown bush. “You can lick my pussy for a while,” she said, “then you’re gonna put that rubber cock on and fuck the daylights out of me. You hear me, sweetheart?”

Ann could no longer speak; Milly’s sex plopped onto her mouth. A hand grasped the front of her hair. Ann’s lips sealed shut. I’m being raped by a woman, she thought, but she could not explain how she felt. She could scream or even bite…but…

“Go on,” Milly said. “Lick it.”

The light flicked off. The slant of pink moonlight was all that lit the room, falling across Ann’s eyes.

“Lick it.”

Ann gulped.

“I said lick it. Don’t pretend you don’t want to.”

What it was exactly that Ann could not explain to herself was that she did want to.

She hesitated. The pink moonlight oozed into her eyes. Milly lowered herself some more, sitting directly on Ann’s face.