A Dark Heart

"Open it yourself," she said with a grin.

He marched back to glare down at her.

"Are you ready to be a giver of pain?" she said, smiling up at him.

He rocked back and glanced at the curtain, then back to her. "Is that what this is all about? You wanted to push my buttons until you provoked a violent response?"

Her smile didn't fade one iota. "Not at all. You're the one who seems to be overreacting about a simple concept. Are you even aware of the strength of your reactions?" She stared at him like some kind of interesting science experiment. She patted the bench next to her again. "Please sit."

With a frustrated glare back at the seemingly impenetrable curtain, he plunked himself down with a huff.

She smiled gently at him. "I'd like to do a simple experiment which I think we both will find very pleasant."

He narrowed his eyes and looked at her suspiciously.

"I promise you will like it," she said.

He considered her, then nodded reluctantly.

"Kiss me."

He blinked. "That's the experiment?" She nodded. "What's it supposed to prove?"

"Before we kiss, I want you to recall what it felt like to kiss your most recent girlfriend. It felt good, right?" she asked.

He was a little weirded out talking about them like this, but he nodded.

She nodded and leaned forward with her eyes closed and lips positioned for a kiss.

Still suspicious, he also leaned in, pressing his mouth to hers. Then they were kissing. The chaste kiss deepened, and tongues got involved.

His technique felt familiar. What was new was the waves of pleasure passing between them, almost like... a feedback loop. He felt her pleasure, and she felt his.

The kiss went on, and his hands were on her body as hers groped his.

The unreal intensity finally sank through to his rational mind, and he pushed back from the kiss in shock.

She moaned in protest and then gasped for breath as he tried to catch his own.

"What... what the hell... was that?" he exclaimed.

Her eyes were almost glowing as she stared hungrily at his mouth. "That, dear Nate... was better... than I expected! The synchronizing... of our pleasure was expected... but not the intensity! I admit it has been a very long time since I've shared a kiss with one of your kind—"

"Oh, come on! You're not still trying to convince me of that." He gestured to the paintings in a wide sweep of his arm. "That's all make-believe! Imagination!"

She was smiling at him again. "Yes, of course it is. It's necessary to throw off the scent. Those images are very misleading as they were designed to be. This... this is real."

Nate watched in shock as the light in front of Oletha shimmered like a falling curtain of glitter, starting from the top of her head and ending at the soles of her feet. The... being he now faced was no longer human.

She still bore a resemblance to the tall beauty. Long, jet-black hair still hung down to her waist, but it was thicker now, and small black horns parted the hair at her temples. The tips of her pointed white ears also poked through her hair on either side of her head, upwards and back. Pale grey eyes (maybe a little larger now) twinkled with amusement at his reaction. Her lips were still black but not from lipstick. And her skin! It shimmered iridescently, a pearly white with black stripes in random places. The asymmetry of her markings was jarring. Then he realized he was seeing those stripes because she was no longer wearing clothes! Her small breasts had become maybe just a little larger, but the piercings and the chain between them was still there.

Suddenly realizing he was sitting next to someone clearly not human, Nate jumped to his feet and stumbled back. "Wh-what are you?"

She smiled and pointed to the paintings. "Same as you."

Nate found himself against the black curtain, struggling to find the opening.

"Nate. Nate, dear, it's not going to open. Talk to me." Oletha's voice said close behind him. He turned around, leaning back against the curtain, which was surprisingly solid. It almost felt like he was leaning back against the side of some enormous beast.

But there in front of him was the most startling vision of all, in all her shimmering, naked glory.

"Happy Hallowe'en?" he asked weakly, and she shook her head with a grin.

"Trick?" he tried again.

The grin widened into a bright smile of white teeth, and he sagged. "It can't be real."

"You don't trust your eyes? How about your hands?" she said as she pulled his hand to her breast. He gasped at the softness of her skin and the stiffness of her nipple against his palm.

"You should know something else, Nate. We don't show ourselves to Humans. Much too dangerous for both parties." She gestured to the paintings. "We promote the idea that our kind are myths and legends, make-believe. We hide in plain sight behind disguises, looking like them. We can't tell them about us. It's forbidden by our law, and the penalty for exposing our true nature is death. Our kind has almost been hunted out of existence. Humans kill what they don't understand. Vicious beasts."

"How come you keep saying that! Look at me! I'm human!" he exclaimed.

"No, you look Human, but then so did I until I dropped my glamor. You're wearing one, too, but you aren't aware of it for some reason! I'd love to know why!"

"Glamor?" he moaned.

"A spell bonded to us when we're newborns which changes with us as we grow, allowing us to hide our true selves. To disguise ourselves as Humans." She was sliding his hand from side to side across her chest, making him feel both of her tits and moaning as she did it. She was slowly drawing him back to the bench and they sat once more.

"Maybe this is my true self!" he said, gesturing to his face.

"If it was, you wouldn't smell like an Incubus," she purred.

"Smell?"

She smiled as she leaned in close to press her tits against his chest. Her lips nibbled on his earlobe then she whispered in his ear. "Humans are practically scent blind. Breathe deep. Tell me what you detect."

Trembling, Nate closed his eyes and inhaled her subtle but spicy perfume, once more picking up the oddest impression of age. Not of decay or staleness but... seasoned strength. He pushed that aside. Scents.

"The warm spice of your perfume. Earl Grey tea and... scones? The sweetness of shortbread cookies. Roses? Newspaper. Leather..." His eyes opened, and he saw her pleased smile. "What?"

"I don't wear perfume. We can't due to the sensitivity of our sense of smell. The warm spice is our natural scent. You also picked up my breakfast and afternoon snack. I checked the performance of my stock portfolio with a newspaper at breakfast. I was presented with roses when I arrived at the gallery." She glanced down. "We're sitting on a worn leather bench."

He blinked at her. "That... it doesn't mean I'm not human if I smelled those things."

She smiled and tilted her head again, a gesture beginning to annoy Nate as he picked up that it meant she thought he was being simple-minded. "Not in itself. But it does mean your sense of smell far exceeds that of a Human."

He trembled with... what, frustration? Anger? No. It felt more like... fear! Almost a compulsion to stop, to avoid looking or questioning. It wasn't a rational response, but it was strong!

"One more try—"

"NO!" he shouted and tried to push her away, but her strength was daunting. She pushed him down on the bench and pinned him there with her naked body. He gasped as that felt very good, but he still struggled to free himself. She took his face between her hands and looked deeply into his eyes.

He felt himself falling into her pale grey eyes and then the sensation of floating. He felt far more relaxed now, and her body felt sooooo good.

"Yes, it feels good, doesn't it! We're sharing our perceptions. You feel what I feel, and I feel what you do," Oletha purred.

"It's... good," he sighed.

"Yes. I'm going to activate my glamor so you can feel that happening," she said.

A spike of fear shot through him, and he felt her frown. There was a distinct and odd... transition. That was the only way he could describe it. One state to another. He felt a dimming of his perception of her, as if there was a thin sheet of plastic wrap between them. When his attention returned, he felt her examining him with a frightening intensity.

"Someone has placed a compulsion spell on you. A very strong one. Curiouser and curiouser. It matters not. I will not be denied now." He felt her resolve strengthen and gasped at how tightly bound he was to her mind! This was... he wanted to say impossible, but she'd already broken that concept for him.

"Here we go, Nate. Brace for impact," she said with a grin and... TRANSITION!

A raw terror ripped through him, and he screamed. He heard Oletha shriek, but her will would not be denied. He felt her and his... being, trip over into... other. His mind slipped away as the intensity was too much.

An undefinable unit of time later, he became aware of sound. "Nate? Nathan, dear?"

He moaned as everything felt... wrong. Too much. Too loud. Too hot. Too bright. Too soft. Too hard.

Lips pressed against his, and he moaned again because it felt too good! His eyes opened, and he was on his back on the floor, looking up into pale grey eyes. Delighted and excited eyes.

"What happened? I- I feel... hungover. Everything is too sensitive!" he said with a wince.

"You deactivated your glamor. You are finally perceiving the world as you should. As your true self!" she said with a trembling voice.

He shook his head as that made no sense to him.

She grabbed his hands and pulled him to his feet. She kept holding his hands to stabilize him, and he froze as he looked down at them. Where her skin was a shimmering pearly white with black stripes, his was now an inky black with bright silver... freckles? They varied in size from pinprick to no larger than the end of a pencil eraser.

"My starry sky," Oletha purred in awe, her eyes wide with wonder. "I've never seen coloration like yours before! It's beautiful!"

He yanked his hands from hers and lurched back a few steps as the pressure built in his head.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?" he roared, and the room shook, the paintings bouncing and shifting on their mounts. A few fell to the floor. For the first time, a flash of fear showed in her eyes, then astonished wonder.

There was a ripping sound and a terrible pain from his back as broad, leathery wings stretched out through the tatters of his shirt. He looked over his shoulder in shock at his new limbs, as that's what they felt like. They ached as he stretched them out for the first time. The wingspan had to be 13 to 15 feet at least, tip to tip. A tremor ran through his muscles as he relaxed the wings, pulling them into a resting position behind him. God, they ached so much! He wouldn't be flying anywhere with these any time soon.

He looked down and saw his new, larger thighs and calves pushing through the split fabric of his pants.

Lifting his hands, he saw deadly black talons gleaming from his fingertips. At his gasp of shock, the talons slowly retracted until his fingertips were blunt once more. He looked at his feet, and his shoes had been punctured by the talons there.

Nate took a grip on his shirt at his chest and pulled it from his body with a quick tug and rip. He kicked off the loose shoes and pushed his pants and underwear down to kick them off. His underwear was the one article of clothing not ripped. Now, he was naked, but he didn't feel cold at all in the cool room.

He turned a glare toward the Succubus standing before him, but she was staring at his crotch. Almost afraid to look, he dropped his eyes and saw what was holding her attention.

Bigger. Definitely that. Black. No silver freckles there. Oddly ridged and flared. Not human. The concept truly sunk into his mind as he stared at his new junk. He snorted at how foolish that was. Really, it took his dick to convince him he was no longer human? The wings weren't enough of a clue?

He looked at his hands again. Then, at his arms and down at his chest. It still didn't seem real, but the ache on his back told him it was all too real.

Before this change, his skin had been a very deep brown. He was a black man, but now his skin matched the term too literally. Aside from the silver freckles splashed across it here and there, that is.

"What. Did. You. Do. To. Me?" Nate asked with a calmer but no less intense voice.

"Nothing. I mean, you were blocked from deactivating your glamor, and I pushed you past that, but... this is what you are." She blinked in wonder at him. "Wings. Succubi and Incubi haven't had wings in millennia! How?"

"How the fuck would I know? Listen, I don't want to be this! Change me back!" he barked.

She reeled back as if slapped. Then she got angry. "You don't want to be this? THIS IS PERFECTION!" she yelled, gesturing at him.

"Only in your twisted perception! I never asked for this. I was quite content before you forced this on me," he bit back.

She snorted contemptuously. "Really? Content were you? Poisoning the minds of one innocent Human female after another? Twisting them into corrupted versions of who they were before you entered their lives? That's where you found your contentment?"

It was Nate's turn to reel back. "What... what are you talking about?"

"Succubi and Incubi feed from Humans. We take our sustenance, life energy, from them when we have sex with them. Once. Maybe twice. More than that, and we begin to twist their personalities. Permanently. How many Human females have you distorted irreversibly?"

Nate's mouth was working, but nothing was coming out.

"I just did Humanity a great service, it seems. I stopped a serial corrupter," she said contemptuously. Then she tilted her head again. "Unless you plan on continuing? Like a parasite."

Roaring, Nate launched himself at her, claws out.

She'd been ready for his attack and grabbed his wrists. She twisted, and he was going over her to slam down on his back on the leather bench. The pain in his wings was sharp as they retracted automatically. He was dazed by the pain for a moment. That was all the time she needed to secure his arms and legs to the bench with the chains waiting there.

"Where the fuck did those chains come from? And when did she have time to get them?" he thought as he struggled unsuccessfully to free himself. His aching wings were the only limbs not chained but were folded and trapped beneath him. He looked to the left and saw she was pulling a bottle of something from a leather satchel he hadn't noticed when they'd first arrived in the room.

She smiled as she approached as she saw where he'd been looking. "A good Succubus keeps her tools close by, and you were out for a bit when you first switched." She swung a leg over his torso and sat on him, pressing the heat of her pussy against his relaxed cock, which was currently resting between his legs. "I need to ask you a question. Are you going to get all maudlin or depressed over what you did to those females?"

He tried not to think about how good she felt sitting on him, but his body was beginning to betray him. His cock began to thicken and tried to rise. He focused on the number of women he'd tried to have a meaningful relationship with. As she said, the one-night stands or second-date quickies didn't count, so ignoring the embarrassingly large number of those, he could whittle the number down to... roughly... ten- no, eleven.

Shit. He'd messed up the personalities of eleven women irrevocably. That made him feel terrible... but how was he supposed to know? It wasn't an instant change. It happened gradually, and how could he have expected this?

"I-I feel horrible about what I did—"

"Suicidally bad?" she pressed and pressed physically as well.

Fuck! That felt good! "UUUhhhmm... no... no, there was no reasonable way I could have known it was my fault." He gasped and squirmed under her. The pressure of his cock being forced down was exquisite and excruciating.

She wiggled the bottle between her fingers. "I have poison I could give you if you felt you couldn't live with the guilt. Quite painless and quick."

"NO! NO! I don't want to die!" he exclaimed definitively, and she smiled in satisfaction.

She slid herself down until his cock sprung up to slap against his belly.

"AAAAHHhh!" he gasped.

He looked down and saw she was opening the bottle. He jolted against his restraints.

"WAIT! I SAID I DIDN'T WANT THE POISON!" he yelled desperately.

She paused to look at him with a crooked grin. "I said I had poison. This isn't it."

He was panting as his heart hammered in his chest. "Wh-what is it?"

She tilted his cock, so it pointed straight up and dripped three drops from the bottle onto the thick, ridged head. She used the tip of her pinky finger to spread the cool and slick fluid over the glans. He trembled under her from the bliss.

"This is just a desensitizing lotion. Virgins reach orgasm much too soon," she said wickedly.

He was back to panting, but it had nothing to do with fear anymore. He looked up at Oletha in confusion. "Virgin? I'm not—"

"But you are! As an Incubus. No, I want you to last, as this is a rare treat for me!" She smiled as she considered that. "You're my Hallowe'en treat!"

She released his stiff cock, and it slapped against his stomach once more. She admired the size and shape, running her fingers up and down the shaft.

Nate closed his eyes as his body reacted to her touch. So good!

She suddenly stood and quick-walked to her satchel. Nate watched her go, his eyes fixed on her firm, round ass cheeks. She smiled at him as she looked over her shoulder. Oletha put the bottle in the bag and pulled a tube of lube out. She squirted some of the gel onto her hand as she walked back.

"You're a little bigger than I'm used to in that form." She smiled, and a distant look came to her eyes. "It's been... a very long time since I last played with an Incubus."

"Condom! I- I- Dammit! I'm not carrying any condoms! I wasn't planning on having sex tonight! We can't," he blurted.

She stopped next to the bench and grinned down at him in amusement. "Yes, we can, and yes, we will. I'm... safe. It isn't quite my time to be fertile," she said as she thought of her cycle.

"No, you don't understand. I always wear a condom. I have to," he insisted.

Her eyebrows rose. "Why do you think that?"

He looked really uncomfortable. "Trust me. We can't. Not without a condom."

Grinning widely, she quickly knelt down beside the bench. She looked at him with a playful expression. "What if I just took this big fat cock in my mouth—"

"NO!" he yelped and jolted on the bench.

She looked at him in surprise. "What happened?"

He looked away in shame.

"Talk to me," she said gently.

His eyes returned to her. "I don't... I don't let women do that to me... anymore."

"What happened?" she asked again.

He squirmed under her. "I was young and stupid. This girl and I were fooling around. Just wrestling and shit. She... she got my zipper down and did that. She had an allergic reaction to... my stuff. Immediate. It wasn't pleasant. She ran off, and I never saw her again. Her parents took her and moved away. So, no condom? No sex."

Oletha smiled and tilted her head at Nate as he ground his teeth. "She was a frail Human. They're wrought with genetic weaknesses like that. I believe you'll find that Succubi are a much sturdier species." Her contempt for humans was plainly evident in her voice and expression. Suddenly, he no longer cared if she had a bad reaction.

She stood quickly, swung her leg over his legs again, and sat on his thighs.

"AHHHHH FUCK!" Nate gasped as she stroked his cock with her lubed hand. "Why does that feel so good?" he asked as tremors ran through his body. He felt her shaking, too, and looked into her dazed eyes.