Contrary to what one would expect, succubi experience their transition into adolescence later than normal humans, usually between 18-20 years of age. However, the effects are far more dramatic. All at once their body develops into a masterful tool, crafted to one purpose: seduction. As the physical changes manifest, the wicked nature that has lain dormant within them is unleashed in a storm that washes away their humanity and leaves them as greedy and manipulative as any demon. Often, their first victims are those closest to them. Friends, family, partners. Once viewed as equals, they are reduced to prey as empathy fades, hunger grows, and the newly born demon takes the first steps along the tragic path all their kind is forced to walk.
-Sir Arthur Thompson, The Demonic Archive
Gwen stared into the bathroom mirror and held the measuring tape awkwardly against her head, confirming what she already knew. The horns had grown longer. Nearly three inches now. They had begun to curve slightly, and small, dark ridges had formed across their surface. She flipped open the worn notebook, jotted the date in the corner, and noted the length under a line labeled “Horns.” It still felt surreal to write it out. She continued her examination, there were other changes to track.
Her blonde hair continued to grow lighter. It was nearly silver now, and had developed a perpetual healthy sheen that made it look otherworldly. Before, she could barely get a comb through it in the morning. Now, soft and smooth, it parted easily as she ran a hand through, reforming into perfect wavy locks as her fingers passed. There was still no sign of the acne that had plagued her for years. Six days ago it had cleared up overnight. Then came the horns, the hair, and finally, her body itself had begun to change. Reshaping itself a little bit more each night.
Gwen eyed the numbers for today’s entry, comparing them to her reflection. Just like the day before, her bust, waist, and hip measurements were quickly filling out. She had always been flat chested, short, and skinny. At 20 years, it was as if puberty had passed her by entirely. Well, except for the acne. But the girl in the mirror definitely had a figure. A subtle one, sure. Hardly something you would expect to see on the cover of a magazine, but it was a far cry from the plank she was used to seeing. She turned her head to view the horns from another angle. Unfortunate that the other changes came packaged with a freakish mutation.
Gwen turned her attention back to the notebook. There was a blank space at the bottom of the page. Enough space left, subconsciously perhaps, for a final condition. One that she had yet to acknowledge. As if summoned by her thoughts, the now familiar heat welled up within her. It had plagued her since the changes began. Growing a little bit each day, until she was in a constant state of mild arousal. She stamped it back down, but it was becoming difficult to ignore. How long before it reduced her to a lust-addled zombie? Would it ever stop? Would any of the changes? Would there be more? An all too familiar sense of panic began to overtake her. She shut her eyes and took deep breaths, reminding herself she wasn’t in this alone. Eventually the panic faded. Gwen returned the tape to a drawer, snapped the notebook shut, and left with a tired sigh.
Unsurprisingly, she found Amy studying in the living room. She sat forward on the sofa cradling a steaming mug and reading a medical textbook that lay open the coffee table. Morning light drifted in through the large double window, bathing her in a golden glow and reflecting off her rounded glasses. Her hair, nearly long enough to reach her lower back, was draped like winding rivers of jet black ink, across her back, over her shoulders, and pooling in the folds of her oversized sweater. She looked up as Gwen entered, and her lips pulled into a smile that cut a single dimple into her cheek.
Butterflies filled Gwen’s stomach. The ever-present warmth surged. ‘Calm down.’ she chided herself. It was just Amy. Although the phrase “Just Amy” was laughable. Amy had been an overachiever since they first met in elementary school. Top of the class, first chair clarinet, state science fair champion. Gwen, no slouch herself, was always in second place no matter how hard she worked. It hadn’t bothered her though, not at first, because while Amy was shy and nervous, Gwen was confident and outgoing. She stood up for Amy when she couldn’t stand up for herself. Made friends with the other kids, and enjoyed the spotlight while Amy shied away. They were a perfect team. Then puberty hit Amy like a truck.
Amy quickly grew into one of the most beautiful women Gwen had ever seen. Twinkling dark eyes, high cheekbones, full lips. The face of a goddess, and a body to match. Long legs, with pillowy thighs. A plump, well rounded rear that pulled into a soft, delicate waist. Not to mention a set of enormous breasts that drove boys wild. Suddenly no one could care less about Gwen. She was like a candle next to the sun. The embodiment of femininity, Amy commanded a room from the second she entered. No social graces needed. And she was still top of the class, right up to when they graduated.
A part of her, a small part, resented Amy for it, but she knew that was petty. Despite everything, Amy was still shy and humble. A loyal friend who never looked down on her. In fact, Amy seemed to find her beauty a nuisance. In an effort to hide her body, she always wore loose clothing. Today it was a long skirt that ran to the ground, and a thick, oversized sweater with sleeves longer than her arms, her fingers peeked out adorably from the wrinkled ends. Unfortunately for her though, there weren’t clothes on Earth that could make Amy look bland. The overall effect was an air of innocence that boys trampled over each other to corrupt. Amy rejected all of them.
Until now Gwen hadn’t had much interest in sex either. Instead she had chosen to focus on her studies in an effort to surpass Amy. She’d only had a single boyfriend, which resulted in a handful of disappointing sexual encounters before they broke it off, and only on rare occasions found herself fantasizing about more. But it was invariably men she fantasized about. Now however, not only was she constantly horny, but she found herself fantasizing about men, women, and more and more: Amy. Her roommate, her best friend.
“Well?” Amy’s voice pulled Gwen from her thoughts.
“Almost three inches.”
“They’re growing faster.”
“Seems that way.”
“Measurements?”
“Thirty-one, twenty-three, thirty-two.”
Gwen crossed her arms in front of her, hiding her body as she spoke.
“Same pace as last night. Anything else new?”
Amy tilted her head and brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes were piercing. Gwen loved the way she looked when she was focused on solving a problem. Her cheeks felt hot.
“Nope.”
“I still can’t see the horns.”
“Good.”
That had come as a surprise. When the horns appeared, just fuzzy lumps at first, Gwen had skipped class for the first time in her life. The next day she’d worn an old headband she found in the bottom of a box in her closet. Looking like an idiot was better than everyone finding out she was some kind of mutant. It had worked until her stuffy Calculus professor demanded she remove it. Reluctant to make a scene, she’d complied and was surprised when no one said anything out of the usual. When she returned to the dorm, Amy likewise said nothing about the growths. Even when pressed, in case she was being polite, there was no indication she could see them. Just concerned looks and inquiries about Gwen’s mental state. Fair enough. The next day the horns were bigger, and after a panic attack, she’d broken down and told Amy everything.
She’d been worried Amy wouldn’t believe her. Needlessly, it turned out. Amy was pre-med, and approached it like she would any other medical condition. Documenting the changes, and attempting to determine the underlying cause. The current hypothesis was Cutaneous Horns and constitutional delayed puberty, possibly inherited from the birth mother Gwen had never met. Neither of them had a good answer for why no one else could see the horns though, and when her hair color had started changing it threw another wrench in that theory.
“Any new ideas, doctor?”
“Not without new symptoms.”
“I’ve been spending some time researching. Rare diseases, maybe an unusual combination of some, that sort of thing. I don’t think it’ll be much help though. Not until we get something concrete to go on.” She frowned. “I still think you should see a real doctor.”
“And tell them what? I have invisible horns, my tits are getting bigger, and I’m constantly-”
“Constantly what?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s Berkely, everyone here knows a doctor. I don’t want it to get out and become the… goat girl or something.”
“It won’t get out, doctor patient confidentiality prevents that.”
“It’s only been six days, if it gets serious I’ll see a doctor. Besides, I trust your medical opinion.”
“In that case, it’s my medical opinion that you should see a real doctor.”
“No.” The idea of showing the horns to someone besides Amy terrified her.
“What about my dad?”
“No.”
Amy rolled her eyes. Gwen knew she was being stubborn, whatever was happening to her wasn’t normal, but it had only been six days and she still hoped that the changes would stop and everything would go back to normal. However unlikely that was.
“Can I touch them again?”
“…Sure.”
Gwen reluctantly sat next to Amy, who shifted closer until their legs were touching. The contact sent a shiver of excitement through her. Amy leaned forward, hands outstretched. Gwen’s rebellious mind pictured them continuing past her, wrapping around her to meet. Pulling her in as Amy continued forward until she felt those luscious lips against her own. A sudden need filled her, startling her with its intensity. She bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut to drown it out. Her cheeks were burning. Amy’s hands made contact with her forehead, then drifted, searching, until they found the solid masses at her temples.
“Hmm. It feels like there are ridges forming?”
Gwen didn’t trust herself to reply. Luckily Amy continued.
“They’re also symmetrical. Both atypical of Cutaneous Horns. I really think we’re dealing with something else… Are you okay? Do you have a fever?”
“No! I’m fine.”
Her face must be crimson, she kept her eyes closed. Deep breaths.
“Be honest. If it’s a new symptom it could help us figure this out. Here.”
Suddenly, Gwen felt Amy’s forehead against her own. Amy was just checking her temperature, but all Gwen could think about was the faint scent of her lavender shampoo. Those dark eyes. Those soft inviting lips, inches from her own. All she had to do was lean in, shift ever so slightly, and they would meet. She ached for it. She squeezed her thighs together, and the movement sent a jolt of pleasure through her. She moaned aloud.
Her eyes snapped open to find Amy’s starting back, wide with shock. For a moment time stood still. Her left arm was raised, paused in the middle of a subconscious move to Amy’s waist. She scrambled to the edge of the sofa, snatched up a pillow, and buried her face in it. Amy sat frozen, looking away and blushing profusely. Neither girl spoke. Several minutes, or what felt like it, passed. She had been moments away from kissing her best friend. She was losing control. Eventually, Gwen broke the silence.
“I think… I think there’s another symptom.”
Gwen peeked over her pillow. Amy was on the other end of the sofa looking toward the window, blushing. Gwen waited for a response. Eventually Amy closed her eyes, pursed her lips, and turned to face her with a mask of determined professionalism. It wasn’t very convincing.
“Go on.”
“I’ve been… having thoughts. About you. And not just you.” It all came spilling out in a rush. “Strangers, classmates, anyone really. I’m..horny. Pretty much all the time, and it’s getting worse. I feel like I can’t control my body. And when you got so close, I just… I’m sorry.”
She studied Amy’s face, searching for traces of betrayal. Instead, Amy was deep in thought. Staring at nothing with her mouth turned down slightly. Suddenly, her eyes lit up and she gave Gwen a wry smile.
“Occam’s Razor.”
Gwen blinked. “What?”
“Occam’s Razor. The simplest explanation is usually the right one. You’re constantly aroused. Your body is changing to be more in line with conventional beauty. You’ve got horns.”
She swept an arm toward Gwen as though the conclusion should be obvious, but Gwen wasn’t following. She continued.
“Delayed puberty may explain the bodily changes, and the arousal if you stretch it, but yours don’t fit the profile for Cutaneous Horns. And we have to factor in that no one but you can see them.”
She was speaking faster with each passing word. The way she did whenever she figured out a hard problem. It was cute.
“I can’t think of a scientific explanation for that. Some kind of hallucination maybe? But then why can I feel them? We’re both having the same hallucination? Even if that was possible, what are the chances of that and you having two other rare conditions simultaneously? Even then they don’t line up cleanly with the symptoms. Let’s not forget about your hair. Changing color this fast can’t be attributed to any of those. There’s no rational medical explanation.”
Amy smiled at her. Her earlier embarrassment erased by the single minded pursuit of a solution to the puzzle.
“But there is an explanation that fits everything. There’s a condition, or a creature rather, known for several of your symptoms.”
Gwen tilted her head and tried to follow.
“Did you just say creature?”
“It fits the facts. I wouldn’t have considered it before now, but we go where the evidence takes us. Sometimes you need to think outside the box.”
Gwen thought for a moment. She couldn’t mean…
“No way. That’s not outside the box. That’s on the other side of the planet from the box. The box is in another dimension.”
“The evidence says otherwise.”
“You think I’m…” Gwen forced the last words out. “A succubus?”
Amy shrugged. “Occam’s Razor.”
————————————————————————————
Gwen sat through the day’s classes in an odd haze of arousal and worry. Unable to focus, she couldn’t force thoughts of Amy’s ridiculous theory from her mind. Which, in turn, made it difficult to ignore the constant hum of arousal. As she hurried across campus to meet Amy at the commons, she resolved to start bringing a change of underwear to school. Gwen arrived first, and took a small table in the corner. It was just past noon, and the place was quickly filling up. She wasn’t hungry, so she pulled out her laptop intending to get some homework done while she waited, but her mind quickly wandered.
Suggesting that mythical creatures could be real wasn’t the type of thing she expected to hear from her friend. Amy was so smart, so analytical, always a beat ahead and rarely wrong. She quickly and efficiently whittled a problem away until only the solution remained. Her theory was insane, but what if that’s exactly what she was doing? Admittedly, it did have a certain logic to it. Her growing lust, her changing body, the horns especially tied everything together, but she just couldn’t bring herself to take it seriously.
She had done some cursory searching on the internet during class, but everything seemed to conflict. In some stories succubi were fae creatures, in others they were demons. They had wings, or claws, or cloven feet. They could read minds, or inspire lust, or use dark magic. The common denominator was that they seemed to seduce and control others, yet Gwen seemed to be anything but in control. There had to be some other explanation for her predicament.
Unfortunately, once Amy latched onto an idea she wouldn’t let go until she’d disproved it. How long would it take to disprove a mythical creature’s existence? Amy had set herself to an impossible task. Either she’d prove the unprovable, or die of old age, whichever came first. Gwen stared at the blinking cursor on her screen. Her only confidant was busy chasing fairy-tales. Maybe it really was time to see a doctor. She didn’t have any reason to mistrust medical professionals, but for some reason, the idea terrified her. Something deep inside her was warning her against it. An instinct…
Her eyes snapped back into focus. She closed the text editor and pulled up her browsing history, clicked through sites until she found it. A page she had quickly dismissed earlier in the day. In no small part because it looked like a tacky webpage from the early 2000s. A grey image of a biblical demon was tiled across the black background, contrasting poorly with white Courier New. She squinted and skimmed through the most recent posts, dated 5 years earlier, until she found what she was looking for. ‘Demons are creatures of instinct. They possess a sixth sense that cuts through the distractions of the mundane, and affords them a supernatural ability to sense both danger and opportunity.’ Well shit. It certainly wasn’t conclusive, but it did seem to line up with her bizarre new fear of doctors. A shadow fell across the table.
Gwen realized her face was pulled into a scowl and felt the tension fade as she looked up to see Amy holding a plate piled with french fries. Behind her several students kept glancing over, and a few of them stared openly at her. Even in her dull clothes she was radiant. Gwen felt a small surge of pride as they watched Amy sit with her. Amy set the plate down, carefully opened her backpack, and withdrew a burgundy binder bristling with colored tabs.
“So,” She opened the binder. “I’ve done some research and collected a list of abilities attributed to succubuses-”
“Succubi.”
“Sure. Anyways, they’re all over the place, and a lot of them conflict so I figured we can run some tests to see what you can do.”
Gwen snatched a fry and took a bite. It tasted chalky so she tossed it back onto the plate.
“You’re really not gonna let this go?”
“No.” Amy carefully set aside the half-eaten fry. “It’s a little crazy, but if we close our minds to new possibilities nothing would ever be discovered. Imagine if this is real. What it means.”
“Okay, fine.”
“If you don’t want to, you can always go see a- Oh. I expected more resistance.”
“Look what I found.”
She turned her computer around. Amy squinted for a moment and reached for the laptop. Gwen saw the site scroll in the reflection of her glasses.
“It’s hideous.”
“Yeah but read the part about instincts.”
Gwen pointed at the screen around where she guessed the section was. Amy’s eyes flicked back and forth as she read. Her brows were furrowed in concentration.
“…Yeah. What does that have to do with anything?”
“So maybe you’re right. It explains the doctor thing.”
“How so?
“It’s like… a feeling. I can’t explain it.”
“I don’t think this is a reliable source, there are a bunch of conspiracy theories here.”
“Yeah not all of it is great.”
Amy continued to read.
“Sometimes these posts are almost elegant, but then they devolve into a rambling mess. It’s like two different people wrote this. Demons run the banks, demons are hoarding supplies for the apocalypse, demons control the government.”
“Hey, that last one could be true.”
“Well, we can add this to the list of potential sources I guess. What’s the url?”
“New demonic archive dot com.”
“You’re sure?”
“You don’t trust my demonic instincts?”
Amy scowled at her from behind the screen. Gwen shrugged.
They spent the next hour testing some of the claims Amy had collected. She didn’t have superhuman strength, couldn’t read minds, or trigger arousal. Amy would ask her to attempt something, then give her some suggestions based on some source she found when it inevitably failed. She concentrated. Waved her hands. Chanted something in Celtic. Nothing happened. Other than a student giving her a strange look when he looked up to find her giving him a death stare. He definitely seemed confused, but not horny. After each attempt Amy would cross a line out, or sometimes leave a little ‘x’ next to it.
“What’s the difference,” Gwen questioned.
“Well we’re mostly flying blind. I assume most of these sources are unreliable. We can’t discount an ability just because you can’t do it based on the methods in a fantasy novel. An ‘x’ just means that particular method didn’t work but there’s still a chance another could.”
“Wait, am I embarrassing myself to test a spell you read in a fiction book?!”
“Yes.” She scribbled a second ‘x’ next to the words ‘Mind Control’. “What else did you have in mind?”
“I dunno, some kind of ancient grimoire or something?”
“The library was fresh out of grimoires. It’s only been a day, Gwen. This weekend we can go into the city and dig through some bookstores. I know you’re in a hurry but we’ll figure this out.”
Amy gave her a soft, comforting smile. Of course Amy could see through her humor. See that she was scared and was trying to comfort her. Gwen felt tears well up, and fought them back by changing the subject.
“So what’s the red tab for?”
Everything they’d tried thus far had been from the section with a blue tab. Amy blushed and looked away. She hunched forward a bit and said quietly, “Things that we shouldn’t test here.”
A wave of heat radiated from her core at the realization of what she meant. Normally Gwen avoided the topic of sexual activity when she was with Amy, not difficult since neither of them had much interest, but now Amy’s bashful expression sparked a hunger inside her. She wanted to push. At least a little. The thought of Amy being forced to describe lewd acts aloud was tantalizing, but she resisted. Still, she hoped Amy’s curiosity would win out over her modesty and she’d get her wish when they returned home. They sat in silence for a time. Amy picked at the fries. Gwen wrestled back control of her rebellious mind.
“Are you not hungry?” Amy glanced at her.
“Not really.”
“When was the last time you ate?”
“Twenty minutes ago.” She pointed at the half-eaten fry.
“I mean a meal.”
Gwen had to think for a moment. She often skipped meals, or ate at odd hours, but the last time was…
“Two days ago.” She didn’t feel hungry at all. “Shit.”
“Another symptom.”
Amy flipped to a page under the green tab and began writing. Gwen felt a chill. Finding a non-supernatural explanation was looking less and less likely. Her hands grew clammy, and the temperature in the room seemed to jump. Deep breaths.
————————————————————————————
Back at the apartment Gwen unceremoniously tossed her bag on the faded brown armchair her dad had given them when she moved out and kicked off her shoes before collapsing onto the sofa. Amy deposited her own things in her room before returning with the binder clutched to her chest. She stood in the doorway and closed her eyes. Gwen’s heart began to beat faster, and fidgeted as she waited for Amy to break the silence. Amy stood straighter, and when she opened her eyes she wore a look of determination.
“There are other… abilities we should check for. Given the sexual nature of succubuses, some of these are quite personal. I don’t want to cross any boundaries, so tell me if anything makes you uncomfortable.”
“First, succubi.” Amy rolled her eyes. “Second, I don’t think that’ll be a problem for me, but…” It took everything in her to press on. “Amy, are you sure? Maybe we should wait. This whole succubus thing is still just a crazy theory. I already told you that I can’t stop thinking about you, but I know you don’t want to do this. Maybe something will change tomorrow and you’ll have a completely different theory. Or maybe I’ll just get over myself and go see a doctor.”
An awkward silence followed. When Amy finally broke it, she wore a loving smile that melted Gwen’s heart and set her stomach doing cartwheels.
“No, as crazy as it sounds, this is the best theory we have right now. If there’s new evidence tomorrow we’ll deal with that, but right now I know you’re scared, and if it helps to figure out what’s happening to you then I can suck it up. Besides, I’m curious too.”
Gwen’s throat was dry and she coughed when she tried to respond. Eventually she forced out a strangled “Thank you.” Amy laughed, a beautiful melodic sound. Thank god for Amy. Gwen was filled with a strange blend of gratitude, love, and lust.
“First on the list, supernatural healing abilities.” Amy held up a pin and a lighter in her left hand.
“Wait what? All that and the first thing you want to do is stab me?”
“Don’t be dramatic, It’ll just be a prick.” She sparked the lighter and held the tip of the pin in the flame.
“Where did you get those? Do you just carry them around?”
“My room.”
The flame went out, and she blew lightly on the pin, then advanced. Gwen recoiled as she approached but let Amy take her arm. Amy held the needle close to the skin of her upper arm.
“Ready?”
Gwen held her breath and nodded.
“Three, two-”
Amy stabbed her.
“Fuck!”
It took 103 seconds to stop bleeding. Within the normal range, according to Amy. No super healing then. Now they sat on the sofa. Legs crossed and facing each other.
“Alright next is ‘dream walking’. Apparently a succubus can appear in dreams and seduce mortals or paralyze them and drain their energy. Probably explained by sleep paralysis or going to bed aroused. Either way though, we can’t test that while you’re awake so let’s move on for now.”
Gwen said nothing, but Amy’s words triggered a flash of realization. Since the changes began she’d been having a recurring dream. Gwen hoped it wasn’t related, but she was having trouble feigning disbelief at this point. How many coincidences could there be? She didn’t want to believe it, but Amy was right. Too many things were lining up. Amy’s next words stopped her train of thought clean in its tracks.
“After that is,” a pause, “Claims that a succubus’ bodily fluids are an aphrodisiac.”
Amy stared at her. Gwen gulped at the implication.
“I guess the easiest way would be to…”
“Kiss.” Gwen finished Amy’s sentence with an eagerness she hadn’t intended. Amy’s face flushed red.
“Well, the next one on the list is called ‘The Kiss of Death’…so that could be a little risky.”
“Oh,” Gwen said, failing to hide her disappointment. “Right. What’s that?”
Amy read aloud, hiding behind her binder, “A succubus can steal a man’s soul with a kiss, and leave them an empty shell.”
“Well, first of all you aren’t a man, and secondly, I’ve kissed a man and I’m pretty sure he still has his soul.”
“I don’t think gender is really relevant in most of these. You weren’t attracted to women before, right? And now…” The implication hung in the air. “Anyways, we should take a sample of your saliva, and run tests to see if it contains any compounds that could explain-”
“The school is not going to let you run chemical analysis on your roommate’s spit.”
“Well… sure, but-”
Gwen pressed. “Besides, you’d have to log it, and even if you lied about what the test was for, the results would be catalogued. I don’t want to leave behind any evidence.”
“Still, these powers are new, you don’t know what you can do. Just because it didn’t happen before..”
“What powers? The only power I seem to have is being horny all the time and having a crush on my best friend,” Gwen blurted out.
Amy’s face went completely scarlet and Gwen felt an odd sensation wash over her. Her skin tingled, and the hair on her neck stood on end. There was something else too. A taste. A faint sweetness that caused her mouth to begin watering. For the first time in days she felt a pang of hunger. Then, as fast as it came, the feeling faded.
“…Sorry.” Gwen muttered. “I know you don’t feel the same way, and I don’t want to ruin our friendship. These feelings are just so overwhelming. I feel like I’m losing control. I just want answers.”
It was the right thing to say. Somehow Gwen knew it the moment the words left her mouth. They just felt right, like the key to… What was it that blog post had said? An opportunity. Amy sighed. It sounded like surrender.
“Alright, one kiss. I want answers too, and I want to help you.” Amy slowly lowered the binder. “Just, make it fast.”
Amy closed her eyes tightly. It looked like she expected to be slapped. Gwen couldn’t help smiling as she leaned in. Amy’s eyes snapped open.
“Don’t steal my soul.”
Amy closed her eyes again, less tightly than before, and Gwen resumed her forward motion. After what felt like an eternity, she felt Amy’s lips against hers. They tasted sweet. The hunger returned. Pleasure filled her. Moving from between her thighs, out through her body in a wave. When it reached the place where they were joined she felt it continue across their connection. It was a strange sensation, as though a part of her had moved between them and come to rest within Amy.
Amy pulled back and broke the kiss. When she did the strange connection faded, but it didn’t disappear completely. She could still feel that small piece of herself calling to her. It was faint, barely even noticeable. Did Amy feel it? Could she tell that they were still connected, bound together by a thread?
“Well?” Gwen prodded.
“I don’t know. It wasn’t as bad as I expected.”
“You expected it to be bad?”
Amy avoided her eyes. “No, I just. I expected to not like it.”
Holy shit, did she like it?!
“Did you like it?”
“I just didn’t…not like it.”
“Well the theory is that my bodily fluids are an aphrodisiac right? So maybe we should try again, but this time with, you know, tongues. That’s where the fluids are.”
It was a transparent attempt at another kiss, but as she spoke, she focused on the piece of herself that still connected her to Amy. She called to it, pulling at the thread that connected them. Not forcefully, just a nudge. Her heart pounded as she waited for an answer. Amy nervously licked her lips.
“Okay.”
It worked. This time Amy leaned in to meet her. When their lips came together Gwen felt the connection return. Gwen pressed her tongue forward, and was met with the briefest resistance before Amy welcomed her in. The connection surged. Gwen’s lust surged with it. Each pulse moved through her, binding them together with another thread, and strengthened her hold on Amy. Her delight drove her tongue onward in a seductive dance, teasing against Amy’s until it joined her. After a while Amy broke the kiss. Slowly, with reluctance. She opened her eyes and stared at Gwen with heavy lids and flushed cheeks. Gwen stared back. Amy’s mouth was opened slightly. Her lips were glossy. Amy’s breath brushed against her skin.
Gwen took hold of the threads and pulled. They grew taut, then resistance faded and she felt Amy’s hand on her lower back. Giddily, she allowed herself to be pulled in. She took Amy’s other hand in her own and their fingers intertwined as their tongues reunited. The dance resumed with a greedy intensity. Amy’s reluctance had been replaced by desire. Perhaps with Gwen’s own desire reflected back across the connection. She didn’t care.
Gwen leaned backward, tugging at the threads as she did. Amy followed, then pushed until she had Gwen pinned beneath her. Amy’s hair fell all around them. It tickled against her skin. Gwen moaned into Amy’s mouth as the weight pressed against her. She squirmed beneath Amy, savoring the contact wherever their bodies met. She ground her hips upward, against Amy’s thigh. Amy shied away, and the threads tensed further, but Gwen held them firm. It felt natural. With her free hand she held Amy’s hip and drew her downward. Amy relented, and returned to her. She squeezed Gwen’s hand, and Gwen squeezed back. Tiny soft gasps escaped Amy’s mouth. Gwen drank them in.
She drew a foot in, bringing her knee up between Amy’s legs, then pushed upward. Amy yelped, then settled into Gwen’s leg and began slowly grinding against it. Amy’s pace increased until they matched the electric pulsing of Gwen’s unrestrained lust. The threads multiplied. Gwen playfully bit Amy’s lip and broke the kiss. She opened her eyes to find Amy staring back at her.
Amy’s face was twisted into a lewd expression that was unrecognizable. She panted in time with their thrusts, each accompanied by a feeble moan. Her cheeks were scarlet, her eyes were half closed, unfocused and misty. Her glasses were fogged. A small trail of saliva ran from her mouth to Gwen’s, connecting them, another thread. Gwen smiled. Amy closed her eyes and crushed her mouth against Gwen’s, pushing her back down. Pressing her into the sofa.
It was perfect bliss. Amy was hers. No, Amy was a part of her. Bound to her through the connection she had forged. Each euphoric wave rippled outward, vibrating across the threads before Amy’s own pleasure echoed back. Gwen eagerly fed. She wanted more. She wanted to give more. To fill Amy with pleasure. Bathe her in it. Drown her in it. Flood the connection with so much that it shattered Amy. Then devour the pieces.
Amy pulled against the threads. They strained, but Gwen tightened her grip. she laughed hungirly into Amy’s mouth. Her hand slipped beneath Amy’s sweater to drift across her silky skin. Her tongue writhed in Amy’s mouth, exploring every wet cranny while Amy lapped eagerly at her own. Amy fought the connection, but her body betrayed her. Her hand slid from Gwen’s back, down her hip, and slipped beneath the waistband of Gwen’s jeans. Gwen shivered at the touch. Her sex yearned for Amy’s touch. Ached with six days worth of pent up frustration. It twitched at the thought of release, sending an exhilarating shudder through her.
She urged Amy on through the connection, but the threads were already stretched thin. She craved release. Hungered for it. With all the strength she could muster she yanked at the threads. The pieces of her embedded within Amy strained as she fought against Gwen’s influence. Then all at once, the threads snapped. A spike of energy vibrated through her, followed by frustration. Amy froze, then pulled away. She sat up, straddling Gwen and looked down at her with equal parts anger and fear. It cut through Gwen’s arousal and pulled her back to reality.
“Amy…”
Amy’s chest heaved with each breath. She wiped her arm across her mouth and, without a word, stepped off the sofa and staggered to her room. Gwen laid there and watched her leave. Slowly, the haze of arousal faded to a dull hum. Shame and regret filled its place. She’d been a slave to her lust, and had dragged Amy along with her. Pushed her best friend far past her boundaries. Worse, she knew she had been close to doing something irreversible. Some monstrous part of her had been feeding on Amy, binding her tighter and tighter, intending to break her. Only her lack of patience had pushed the connection past its breaking point. What the fuck was wrong with her? Unfortunately, she knew the answer.
Gwen thought about apologizing, but she was sure Amy wanted to be left alone. Who could blame her? Maybe tomorrow. She stood to find that she wasn’t tired in the least. Surprising given her physical exertions. The whole encounter had only lasted about ten minutes but Amy was taller and heavier than she was, and all the pushing, pulling, and thrusting had left her slick with sweat. Yet she had already caught her breath, and felt as energetic as she had in a week. What was it Amy had said? The Kiss of Death. The arousal was abated too. Not gone, but more manageable than it had been in days. She could think clearly now.
Tomorrow, she would apologize. Amy’s friendship meant more to her than anything in the world. Gwen felt terrible about what she had done. Though, in her defence she was apparently a lust-driven monster from the pages of a storybook. She could win Amy back over. Together they could piece together what the extent of her powers were. More carefully now that they knew how dangerous they could be. Gwen made her way to the bathroom and peeled off her clothes. She turned to study the girl in the mirror. No, the succubus in the mirror. She reached up and ran a finger along a curved horn to the tip. Now that she could think clearly, and her mind was free of lust and worry, she found that she almost liked them. Gwen smiled to herself and stepped in the shower.