Message-ID: <7928eli$9801291759@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Sthethya Subject: The Succubus Tale; Part I (incest, supernatural) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: sweetswallow@hotmail.com Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <6aq9vr$9g0@bgtnsc03.worldnet.att.net> (c) 1998, Sthethya . No portion of this publication may be reproduced without express written consent of sthethya@hotmail.com ----------------------------------- Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Sthethya, First Consul Succubus to his Supreme Evilness. Some of you might be surprised; I'm sure you didn't know succubi were still around in this day and age. What is a succubus? You might well ask that, for we often visit mortal men in the comfort of their dreams. We are creatures born out of the union of daemon with human; we are abominations of nature who thrive on the male life force. We steal life from men by stealing their sperm, which we use later for other magics and to support our own existance on the mortal plane. I have been a succubus for over nine hundred of your years. During that time, I have felled empires, corrupted godly men, and spawned evil and hatred on Earth. While Earth may be more complicated now than it was several hundred years ago, there are still many opportunities for evil. You don't think all the current sex scandals were created by mere mortal women alone, do you? Now that you doomed mortal men have delivered all those thousands of gallons of warm, delcious cum into my hungry orifices, I should confess that there have been relatively few instances where I've been impressed. Often, especially in my earlier years, I have had to seduce three or four men a night just to fight off the weakness of starvation. Despite this, there have been many memorable encouters. These are my memoirs and my daily journals. Some of them date back from when I was still a third-rank succubus; the weakest kind. Third-rank succubi have to feed several times a night or else it's *ZOOP*! back to the lowest levels of the Big BBQ for a few decades while they build up enough strength to climb outward for their next foray into the mortal world. You can find the junior succubi standing on street corners now-a-days....or working in Vegas brothels.. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Succubus Tale: Part the First I can remember my mortal existence, although it is hundreds of years past. My name was Maria, and I lived near Rome. These were troubled times for the Italian States, with local unrest and problems with the Church (which would soon be moved to France). The year was, I estimate, somewhere around 1250 AD, and I was the only daughter of a tradesman, actually a blacksmith. My family was well-known in the area. My grandfather had been a local landowner and merchant. He had three sons; the eldest blackened our family name by entering the priesthood. The middle child, my father, became a blacksmith.My youngest uncle followed in my grandfather's footsteps and was a merchant with ties to Venice. My mother was one of the most beautiful women in all of the world. She was in love with my eldest uncle, but after he went into the priesthood and refused her, she became my father's wife. I feared my eldest uncle absolutely; he was a great, tall, dark man, with deep-set brooding eyes of a pale color and a stern demeanor. He always viewed me with a dour expression, as if he could see my innermost sins without my confession of them. They said I was the image of my mother. My mother was dark and lovely, with flashing eyes and an infectuous laugh. She was very much in love with my father. I remember nights at a tender age, while I still lived at home, being occupied with lying awake on my pallet, my fingers playing within the soft, damp, velvety folds between my legs while I listened to my parents fuck in the room next to mine. I never confessed my desires to the priest out of my fear of my uncle. and I was not even old enough to bear children, but I still had great lusts raging in my small soul. My desires were confusing and powerful...so great that, starting from about age seven, I would place small objects up inside my untouched virginity so that I might walk about during the day and feel them slide and bulge inside of me. And now, with the first small hints of my maturity, I had started to achieve orgasms on occasion, which were new and very heady rewards for my carnal labors. But it was still not enough for me. I craved more...much more...and I could not put a name to the craving. My mother caught me masturbating several times and spanked me, telling me that it was a sin and that I must not. Her face always went white when she saw any hints of sexual behavior on my part, but I am sure she never spoke of the incidents to my father. It was from my mother that I learned to keep my desires secret. Unconfessed, my sins boiled in my heart and multiplied in my soul. Despite the fact I had the face and body of a sweet dark angel of a girl, my soul was tormented by mortal sin. My mother died when I was eleven from a wasting disease that cameon so mysteriously that the people of our town said she was felled by an evil eye. I felt a crushing guilt, and believed it was my lusts that doomed my poor, lovely mother (in fact, I was not half wrong). My guilt was compounded by the fact that I found myself, after her death, with inexplicable effects on men and boys, who now seemed to find me strangely compelling no matter where I went or what I did. The effect seemed to extend to my father, whom I found staring at my developing breasts before he flushed dark red and told me he was going to send me away to my younger uncle's house for without a mother I needed to be brought up as a young lady should. My uncle, his wife, and his two daughters lived in the merchant's quarter of Rome. I was excited...to live in Rome instead of our little village! I was able to visit my father once every fortnight, but I missed him terribly. My greatest discomfort, however, was that my eldest uncle, the priest, also visited my youngest uncle more often than he did my father (since my youngest uncle actually lived in Rome and not several miles distant). I found myself facing this man several times a month over the supper table. Ah, but Rome seemed to make up for all these horrors. I was often allowed out with my aunt and my cousins to go on shopping trips, and there were men everywhere I looked, unlike the small population back in my home village. Men! They were fascinating creatures, large and strong. I wanted one to pick me bodily into his arms...and then what, I was not sure. Although I was still unknown to men, I had no illusions as to what sex entailed, nor was I immune to its possibilities. Men began to affect me while I was still very young, and I had a definite affinity for their company, my father especially. I loved sitting on his lap and smelling the combination of leather, sweat, and sulfur, but I had no experience in the joys of male anatomy, until I was introduced to them while I was still a girl. My sinful lusts were to blame, bless them. I had escaped to the loft at the rear of my uncle's house often in the early mornings while others in the house were still asleep... the only private place I had to seek relief since I now shared sleeping arrangements with my boring and innocent female cousins. This particular summer morning was already sultry and bright, and my short robe was gathered up around my narrow hips while I lay cushioned in the hay.. My legs were spread wide and open to allow my fingers full purchase inside the shallow folds of my vulva. I delighed in the warmth of a beam of light that I had positioned myself to allow to fall directly on my swollen and tingling clit. There were other thin shafts of light coursing through the dusty air, which originated through the shutters from the morning sun and I could feel warmth shining on my body and glistening pussy while my fingers rubbed furiously at my clit. I had been spread and desperate for release for a full ten minutes on the rough but cushioning hay. The fact that I was barely orgasmic gave me no stay against trying anyway. I was straining, trying to catch the hook that would plunge me into another frantic explosion of fluttering and subsequent temporary relief from the raging desires that were consuming me. I was now old enough to experience that exquisite release, but still seemingly young enough that orgasms did not come easily; when they did, I felt near to fainting from the pleasure and enjoyed actual peace of mind for a few hours afterwards, until the maddening desires clutched at my pussy once again. -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |