The Curse of the Succubus

The librarian, Vicky, was a recent graduate from the adjoining university. In her early twenties, she was keen to rise up the career ladder and seize a senior position, before wangling a new job in a world renowned library. She loved books, and had specialist knowledge of medieval texts; however, she harboured a secret passion for romance novels, the trashier the better. The librarian was no repressed wallflower waiting to be transformed into a sex-kitten, but she played the role well. Peering over glasses she didn't need at cute boys in the library, teasing whoever cared to look with flashes up her short skirt as she climbed ladders, and bending down to pick up dropped pencils, she loved the clichés her job afforded her.

All too often a young, muscular rugby or football player from the university team would wander in, a king on the field of competitive sport reduced to a frightened gazelle amongst the towers of books. As he searched aimlessly for the book he needed for a particular paper, Vicky would play the demure, timid librarian, helping the day's young Adonis regain his masculinity as she subtly flirted, toying with him until inevitably, as they all did, he begged for her number.

Sometimes Vicky did it for the chase, gave a fake number or threw away theirs; other times, she was hot, already fired up from an erotic lunchtime read of one of her romance novels, and she would lure the prey into the library basement, to become 'helpless' at his vigorous advances.

Today had not been one of those days. It had been hectic, after several other librarians called in sick. It had been a good time to show her talents to the Head Librarian, and reach up to the next rung, but it also meant she had the dubious privilege of closing up late and going home alone. Vicky locked up and turned sharply, landing face first between two mountains of pillowy cleavage.

Mila smiled, her long tongue licking out across blood-red lips. She was pleased to sense carnal desires running deep in the modest looking girl. The librarian lay somewhere between plain and attractive, an unfortunately forgettable kind of beauty, with auburn hair tied up in a bun, mahogany brown eyes behind thick rimmed glasses, and five and a half feet of height.

'I'm hoping you can help me find someone,' Mila said huskily.

Vicky stepped back, extracting her face from between Mila's gorgeous breasts with a hint of regret, and looked up at the tall demon's face. It took all of the feisty librarian's willpower to stammer out a refusal, 'The library is closed, you'll have to come back tomorrow.'

Mila delicately removed Vicky's glasses and cast them aside. She fixed her gaze with her ruby red eyes. 'Nothing, and no one, is closed to me,' replied Mila, turning the handle of the heavy library door. Mila's eyes flared for a brief moment and Vicky hung there, eternally caught in the moment. Part of her mind questioned how the door could be opened when it was locked, while the rest of her didn't care -- she just wanted to submit to this impossible goddess. The darkness of the library revealed itself and Mila gently pushed her new thrall inside.

'I'm looking for the descendants of Thaddeus Fiennes and Tobias Jefferson,' Mila ran her fingernails up Vicky's right arm, 'find them for me, and I will reward you.'

Vicky practically ran toward her computer terminal in her eagerness to please her mistress. The two traversed the library in near darkness, the librarian knowing the way intimately, the demoness needing no light. When Vicky went to sit down and switch on her terminal, Mila flung away the chair.

'You will stand; I wish to be entertained while you work.'

'Entertained? How?' The librarian asked, before suddenly yelping as her skirt was torn away from her body.

'Work,' Mila demanded. Vicky accessed the computer and began searching for references to Fiennes and Jefferson. Meanwhile, Mila ran her hands over Vicky's lithe thighs and buttocks. She cut away the laced panties with a flick of her nails and gently probed the wetness emanating from between Vicky's legs. The librarian stifled a moan as she brought up genealogy archives.

Mila unfastened her own skirt and began to trace tiny circles on the nub of her clitoris. She worked faster and more frantically, huffing with effort as her clitoris grew. It popped out an inch, which Mila took between her fingertips and started kneading, seemingly pulling it outward. It thickened as it took on length, blood pulsing through it and expanding it with throbbing currents until Mila let out a loud cry and it exploded into full size: a ferociously thick and long cock, blessed with a blood-dark and angry head.

The demoness gripped it and went to insert it into Vicky's quivering snatch, but the height difference between the short librarian and the Amazonian goddess caused a problem with positioning. Mila's frown switched into a leering grin as she placed a hand on Vicky's butt and squeezed hard.

Through all of this, Vicky had worked diligently. Even though she wanted to face her mistress, to see what was going on, to embrace and kiss her, she continued to plumb the depths of the internet and the university archives. However, when her mistress gripped her backside and she felt an itchy tingling up her legs she couldn't resist looking down.

Vicky blinked in astonishment. Her legs, once short, pale, and a little thin, were swiftly changing. The muscles became toned and richly developed as the legs grew longer, the skin taking on a creamy cappuccino colour. The keyboard and monitor grew farther away as Vicky's height increased, inch by inch, until she stood just shy of six foot.

'Perfect,' Mila said, admiring the toned ass which had been brought closer to her and in line with her own pelvis. She positioned the cock and thrust in, striking deep into Vicky's vagina. The librarian fell forward in surprise, sending the keyboard flying. Mila continued to thrust, though with softer strokes this time, and bent over to pick up her surprised thrall. The demoness reached her hands around to Vicky's breasts and pulled her back up.

'Work,' she whispered into Vicky's ear, her thick, full lips brushing against the librarian's earlobes. A spasm rippled through Vicky's crotch as she reluctantly tapped out another search into the computer. Mila's hands continued to play with Vicky's breasts, questing for her nipples over the fabric of her work shirt, until they stopped.

Mila pulled herself back, drawing her hands over the shirt and ripping it open at the buttons. The long, sensuous fingers traced their way over the well-filled bra underneath. 'Naughty girl,' Mila chided. She dived her fingers into the bra and plucked out two 'chicken fillets'. Without the artificial padding, the librarian seemed almost flat chested. 'Do you dream of having bigger breasts?' Mila asked.

'Yes,' Vicky moaned, partly in answer to the question, partly in response to the huge shaft plunging deep into her burning core.

Mila tore away the bra and what remained of the shirt, then pinched the girl's pink nipples with her fingernails. Vicky bit her lip to suppress screaming out at the sharp pain. The demoness continued to pinch, and started pulling on them hard. Vicky's small breasts became pinched and taut as they were pulled outward. Mila adjusted the rhythm of her thrusting, taking a slower, more powerful pace. As her hips banged into Vicky's arse, sending out a meaty slapping sound through the library, a wave of pressure rode upward from Vicky's cunt toward her chest. Each thrust caused the taut breasts to round out slightly as they filled outward from chest to nipple. Mila kept pulling, pinching and thrusting, and Vicky watched as the breasts slowly expanded, increasing through the cup sizes until they blocked her view of the keyboard beneath her.

Mila let go of the sore nipples, which had now puffed up several sizes to match the vastly increased bust. The two mammaries fell down against Vicky's body with a heavy thud. 'I think they need some support,' Mila said. She reached down and picked up a handful of paperclips off Vicky's desk. She pressed her hand against Vicky's right breast, barely cupping the huge orbs of flesh.

Vicky cried out as she felt a hot stinging pain in her nipple. When Mila removed her hand she saw a silver ring piercing emerging from her nipple. It seemed to have no release. The demoness cupped the left tit in her hand and again, Vicky felt a white hot pain. When the hand moved away it revealed an identical ring piercing.

Mila scooped up a whole handful of the paperclips and ran hands down Vicky's back. The librarian yelped in barks of pain and pleasure as she felt stinging sensations trace two parallel lines down her back. She was unable to see the series of silver rings that now decorated the cappuccino skin. The demoness picked up a roll of sellotape and it transformed to a spool of burgundy silk ribbon in her otherworldly grasp. She deftly threaded the ribbon through the rings in Vicky's back, creating a corset of flesh. Mila yanked the two ends of the ribbon, tightening the skin around Vicky's torso and lifting her massive mammaries.

'We aren't done yet,' Mila purred. She brought the ribbons over Vicky's shoulders and laced them through the nipple rings, crossing them over at the chest and bringing round the back of the librarian's neck. Mila finished it off with a bow. The two melon-sized orbs now hung in pert defiance of gravity. Mila gave them a quick squeeze and continued her thrusting.

'Have you found them?' she growled impatiently.

'Let me cum!' the librarian screamed in ecstasy. The high voltage sensations coursing from her cunt through her nerves were shorting out her brain, making the task almost impossible.

'Find them first, then I'll reward you,' the demoness hissed, punctuating her order with a firm slap on Vicky's buttock. Vicky panted loudly and retrieved the keyboard. Within a few minutes, each an agonising eternity of being kept on the brink of orgasm, she found what she was looking for.

'Thaddeus Fiennes: no descendants. Tobias Jefferson: one living descendant,' Vicky managed to say between the powerful thrusts that kept threatening to tear her in half. Mila picked up her pace and raced toward the finish line. Her demonic cock-clit exploded, gushing unlikely amounts of pseudo-cum into the librarian's womb. Vicky screeched in pure bliss and collapsed across the desk. Mila studied the information on the screen and smiled a devilish grin. Doctor Genevieve Jefferson was the remaining link to Tobias Jefferson, and she was close! She worked at the university in the physics department.

It was late, and Mila doubted the young Jefferson would be at her laboratory now. There was plenty of time to have more fun with the librarian. Vicky lay slumped across the desk, a hot, sticky mess quivering with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Mila traced a long fingernail along the creamy, sweat-glossed skin of the girl, catching her nipple and causing her to thrash in ecstasy. The librarian hit the keyboard and a picture of Genevieve Jefferson flashed up. It caught Mila's eye and she scowled. Revenge was close, she couldn't become distracted now. The demoness gathered her flowing black skirt and put it back on before heading out once more into the night.

Chapter Three: Genevieve

Doctor Genevieve Jefferson leafed through the creamy pages of the old journal. Growing up on her family's estate, it was an object she had been intimately familiar with; at least on the outside. It was forever kept locked behind glass in the study, a treasured family memento from the days of Fiennes and Jefferson, the celebrated detective duo of the Victorian age.

Tobias Jefferson had compiled his adventures with Thaddeus Fiennes across several volumes but it was this one that remained out of public sight, a family secret for reasons unknown to Genevieve. Until now.

With the passing of her grandmother last month, it had been handed to her by the lawyer responsible for dealing with the will. A neatly written letter came with it, an explanatory note from her dear grandmother. Genevieve sighed, putting it down for the moment. It had been an untimely distraction from her experiments.

The university laboratory was dark. Only Genevieve was still at work and she hadn't moved from her desk for some time, so the motion activated lights had fallen dim. In the middle of the lab she could make out the shape of the two transporter pads. Principally it worked and was capable of transporting a person from one pad to the other within nanoseconds. Range increased the time but not by much. The significant problem was that the scanner could only handle either organic or inorganic matter, not both at the same time, and not different types of organic matter. So, while test subjects succeeded in moving across space in a nanosecond, they always arrived naked. Their clothes remained behind on the departure pad.

It was, arguably, a small price to pay for instant transport. The problem ran deeper, though. Contact lenses, tooth fillings, false teeth, pacemakers, artificial hip joints -- none of these made the journey with their owner. It was an inadequacy that had to be rectified.

She reached for a set of print outs when she heard a rhythmic sound unknown to this part of the university -- high heels striking against the tiled floor. It grew louder, then paused briefly before the door to her laboratory swung open. A female figure stood in the near darkness, surveying the laboratory and finally fixing a look on Genevieve.

The outline was impossibly proportioned, almost a caricature of a human rather than a real person, the archetypal hourglass all cartoonists strived to portray. Two separate thoughts struck Genevieve at the same time. The first was that she thought she saw a wickedly lascivious smile, pearl white teeth, and blood red lips in spite of the darkness. The second was that she noticed the lights hadn't tripped on as the visitor strode with long, sensual legs across the laboratory toward her.

Genevieve rose suddenly. The lights snapped on. The newcomer stopped in the middle of the floor. They studied each other in silence, one with the eyes of a scientist, the other with the eyes of a huntress.

Genevieve quickly estimated that the strange woman was 6'6" in height, her measurements 40-22-40, the breasts perhaps 4000cc in volume. It never quite occurred to Genevieve, the lifelong professional, just how incredibly breathtaking the entire package was, a collection of sums that added up to something far greater. There was also a sensation of recognition tickling her mind, like she had heard or read about this woman somewhere before.

Mila smiled, basking in the gaze of her prey while returning the favour. She admired the scientist's tall, willowy appearance, narrow features and pale skin. It leant her an ethereal, fae-like look. It had indeed been many generations since she last battled the forefather of this progeny, a far more earthy and stocky creature. No, in fact, Genevieve Jefferson looked more like...

Recognition came to them simultaneously.

'You! You're the one from the journal, the demoness who disappeared.'

'And you're not the one I was expecting. I would know the child of Fiennes anywhere. Why then are you called Jefferson?'

Genevieve glanced involuntarily at the journal. 'Tobias Jefferson and Lady Genevieve could not conceive... shortly before his death, Fiennes approached them with a child which he claimed was his and they adopted him. They kept it a family secret.'

'I had hoped to destroy the Jefferson line this night but the bastard descendent of Fiennes is a far more fitting prize. It was he who ruined me that night.'

The quick wit possessed by Fiennes also flowed through his distant offspring. Genevieve knew she was in great danger; the creature before her may have seemed like a vampish pornstar, dripping with sexuality rather than violence, but the hidden casebook of Tobias Jefferson told of the demon's strength and ferocity. When Mila took a step toward Genevieve, the scientist moved also, keeping workstations and safety rails between the two.

Mila grinned, licking her lips with her long, sensuous tongue while sizing up her prey. 'Perhaps I won't kill you,' Mila said as she slowly strutted along the laboratory floor, the toned muscles in her long legs flexing subtly beneath the creamy white skin. 'I might let you live. At every sunset, you would rouse me from slumber with your tongue on my clit, and at sun rise, after my day is done, you would clean me off again.'

Genevieve glanced momentarily at the closest teleport pad. There was a third -- it was no use teleporting objects from one end of a room to the other, after all. In order to test the capable range, they had constructed a third unit in a spare basement on the other end of campus, exactly one mile away. It would be enough of a headstart...

Genevieve stumbled as a forgotten bag caught her leg. Papers and office detritus was sent flying as Genevieve fell, but at the last moment she caught herself against a workstation. Mila arched a slender eyebrow as she watched the small catastrophe unfold. Amidst the chaos, a switch was knocked from 'B' to 'C'.

'You seem a little upset by that idea, Fiennes. Perhaps it would be a mercy to let you live, and either a dreadful bore or a great risk to me in due course. I should not underestimate your bloodline again. No, I shall break that which you value most -- your mind. I will fuck you endlessly, over and over; I will show you great pleasure. For a moment, you will even come to love me, and then I will send you over the abyss. From then on you will be a hot and horny whore, pawing at any cunt or cock who comes near you, begging to be filled with anything just for a moment's release.'

Genevieve measured the distance from where she stood to the teleporter pad. She would need to step away from the cover of the workstations and into open ground, within reach of her huntress. She needed to distract the demoness and bluff past her. 'Quite soon I'll have what's left of you under a microscope.'

She threw another switch. The safety lights came on, a gentle signal light sending pulses of amber across the laboratory. It was hardly apocalyptic or even dazzling; it was the bare minimum required by health and safety. Powerful electrical currents and mechanical reactions pulsed beyond the range of human senses, but it was enough to unsettle the demon. She paused momentarily and Genevieve slipped away from the desks towards the teleporter pad.

It was a utilitarian piece of equipment, measuring precisely two metres by two metres, and just under four inches high. A sheet of obsidian plastic covered the surface, mirroring the ceiling unit above it.

'What are you doing, Fiennes?' the demoness pouted.

Genevieve didn't respond, not now. She couldn't afford to. There was a safety mechanism built in to the teleportation sequence -- it worked 60 seconds after it was activated, in order to prevent anything or anyone being accidentally teleported.

It was obvious the demoness sensed something was wrong. She seemed tense, her colossal bust rising and falling in hypnotic rhythm. Genevieve fought off the urge to become entranced by the mountains of ripe flesh that cascaded over the brim of the corset.

'Come here, my pet; I have a fine use for that tongue of yours.'

Genevieve trembled slightly at the honey sweet tone of the impossible goddess standing in her laboratory. How would it feel to give in...?

Five seconds to go. Genevieve inhaled, clearing her mind of all thoughts apart from the counting. Mila paced around the teleporter pad, keeping a wary distance from the potential trap. Then Genevieve stepped on to it.

In an instant, Mila knew she had read the situation wrong. She burst forward with inhuman speed. Genevieve stared incredulously, still counting. Three... the tall demoness flashed across the room, long, powerful legs making great strides... two... Mila leapt into the air... one... they collided together, Mila crashing with breasts and arms into the willowy doctor, sending them both tumbling off the pad and... flash