Prologue, Part 2

You watch in silence as the unsuspecting succubus makes her way down the tunnel. Like all her kin, the slender demoness looks as though sex itself was given bodily form at her spawning. Her every movement, intentionally or not, seems to carry within its languid grace the promise of endless carnal delights, from every tilt of her horned head to every twist of her winding black tail. The more you allow your gaze to linger on her, the more your demonic instincts are set ablaze with desire, until it feels like molten lava is pouring through your veins.

You have never lain with a succubus before, nor do you know any incubus who has. Under the Lust Queen's rule the two groups are kept as separate as possible, and it is a capital offense for any incubus to attempt to claim one of the succubi. Until today, you've taken your sustenance solely from pleasure given to mortals consigned to spend their afterlife in this realm by the gods of their various worlds. But if you are to survive, you need to regain enough strength to answer a Summoning before the succubi running interference can beat you to it.

And really, what are they going to do? Kill you twice?

You watch as your alluring prey approaches a bend in the tunnel, about to go around the corner. Your incubus blood screams at you to run after her immediately, to grab hold of her perfect, petite frame, to pin her down and use her in every way imaginable. But you hold your base urges in check. Instead, you play to your greatest strength... and call out to her.

"Out of curiosity," you say. "How much do you want to be the heroine of the hour? The one who finally caught the fugitive everyone was looking for?"

The succubus whirls, whipping her twin daggers from their sheathes and looking down the hallway at you in astonishment. You just give her a wan smile and continue. "Because honestly... I'm almost out of places to run. So maybe we could make a deal? I'm willing to turn myself over to you. Go wherever you want to take me. No running. No resisting. But in exchange... could we talk for a while first, before you send me off to my death?"

She frowns, looking at you warily. "What? Why? What do you get out of that?"

You shrug. "As last memories go, spending it with someone as beautiful as you isn't bad at all. Better than spending it hopelessly running until I'm exhausted and cornered, anyway. Think of it as a last request... from someone about to be killed for a reason he doesn't even understand."

Her eyes widen a little, and you detect a flash of shame in them. It seems she isn't entirely comfortable with this hunt either. Succubi—like incubi—are creatures who revel in pleasure, and wanton slaughter is antithetical to that. Whatever other multitude of sins might come inherent to your very natures, cold-blooded murder isn't one of them... and it seems that you've found a particularly compassionate example here.

She still doesn't entirely trust you. But that wasn't the point. All you wanted was to throw her off-balance, to get her to see you as someone to talk to rather than a threat to attack. Every moment she spends interacting with you is another moment you have to subtly wear on her self-control.

Her supernatural beauty had forced you to fight back your demonic instincts moments before, driving you to the brink of madness... but right now it is her demonic urges that you are enticing. And this seduction in not unaware, as hers had been. If there is one ability you've honed during your time in Hell—far above even your other peers—it is the ability to tempt in ways both subtle and overt.

Already you can see that you are having an even greater effect than she had on you. She keeps stealing glances at your form—which is handsome even for an incubus. She is trying to be subtle about it, but is failing badly. "Ah..." she says, nervously. "I... I suppose we could do that. If it makes this easier for you."

"Thank you," you say, turning up the charm a little more. "This really will help me. I wish I could show you just how grateful I am."

She swallows, sneaking another "subtle" glance at you before jerking her eyes away. "Wh... what would you want to talk about?"

"You, of course." You smile at her. "You are by far the most interesting topic of conversation I can think of."

"Me?" she says, her voice squeaking adorably. "I... I'm not... I..."

Oh, you were not expecting her to start falling to pieces this fast. You'd barely even made any serious moves yet! Even for a sex demoness, this one seems to be a horny little thing. Or... perhaps they were all like this, once they were cornered by a creature of such supernatural allure. Alone in the dark, with no one else offer any support. And no one else to witness if they fell.

"Of course, we don't have to just talk..." You take a few steps toward her, closing the distance between you. "There are other ways of making memories. I'm already marked for death. So I don't have to fear the penalty any other incubus would get for trying to fuck one of you. This could be your once chance to find out what it's like. I promise, whatever you've experienced from mortals... there isn't even any comparison."

Calling on all your charisma, you fix her with a lustful gaze that promises all the untold depravities you are capable of inflicting on her. She sucks in a quick, frightened little gasp, unable to tear her gaze from yours, like a mouse staring into the eyes of a serpent. "I... You..." she says weakly. Too late, understanding dawns on her face as you close in on her. "This... this was your plan all along..."

Your only response is a smile. She scurries unsteadily away from you, but almost immediately her back hits the stone wall of the bend in the tunnel. "Stop..." she whispers, brandishing her daggers as you get closer and closer. "I'll scream."

"That would probably save you," you agree, nodding. Both of you know that if she wants to escape the ravishing that your every movement promises, her only chance is to scream for help right now. Before you can reach her. Before she falls any deeper into your temptation. Otherwise, her fate is sealed beyond any hope.

You continue to close in on her.

She doesn't scream.

Soon, you are close enough that the tip of one of her daggers is pressed weakly against your chest. But by now it's obvious what a farce it is that she's still holding onto those weapons... but she still can't quite bring herself to make the admission that dropping them would entail. She looks up at you, her expression plaintive, her eyes silently begging you to take that decision out of her hands.

Instead, you take another step closer. Without thinking she pulls her arm back against her chest, rather than stab you. You're now pressed up against each other, pinning her against the rock. She whimpers, breathing in your scent. You lean in, and she tries to meet you in a kiss that will ignite the flames of passion, that will let her forget duty and rationality altogether. But instead you bring your mouth to her ear and whisper one firm word directly into it.

"Strip."

She flinches, realizing what you're going to force her to do. You're not going to leave her any excuses. You want to see her admit exactly what she wants, of her own free will, while still hanging onto coherent thought. You pull back enough to watch the show, seeing her stricken expression as she struggles with the last vestiges of her resistance.

But not for long. Complete surrender can sound like many things. But right now, in this tunnel, it sounds like two knives falling on the rocky ground. By the time she reaches both hands up behind her back to undo her top, no trace of hesitation remains. She's putting on a show for you now, bending over to give you a better view, twisting sinuously as she slides the loosened garment off her body before dropping it to one side.

Her slow, sensuous dance itself is pleasing to the eye... but even more delectable is what fuels that dance: the desperate, yearning desire to please you that is now on full display. Her belt comes off next, and then her fingers twirl in the side-ties of her thong before undoing them with a dextrous twist. She pulls that away as well, offering her naked body to you to do with as you please.

You reach out with one hand, starting by groping her ass, reveling in the feel of her flesh your hand as you squeeze. Slowly you work your hand around to her side, using your thumb to lightly trace along her inner thigh. Her breath catches in anticipation, her entrance already soaking with arousal. From there you slide your hand up along her flank, exploring the contours of her skin. Eventually you come to her breast, which you squeeze and play with as well, prompting a piteous moan from her.

And with that, you throw self-control to the winds. Grabbing her by one of her horns with your other hand, you yank her into a fierce, deep kiss. She responds immediately, her arms snaking around you to pull you even tighter against her, your tongues intertwining. Then, after dispensing with your own tattered pants, you reach down, hooking your arms under her legs and lifting her so she is positioned over your cock. She squirms in place, knowing what is finally about to happen, and desperate for it to happen right away.

With a growl, you thrust deep into her hot, tight channel, using your kiss to stifle the rapturous scream that tries to erupt from her unbidden. You fuck her violently against the stone wall, her movements matching yours with equal violence as she loses herself entirely in the ecstasy of the moment.

It is a capital offense for an incubus to attempt to do what you are doing right now. And seeing how completely this succubus has crumbled in the face of your advances—how vulnerable the interplay of your respective natures made her to you—you understand for the first time why it had to be so. If not, these demonesses would have had no hope of holding onto the freedom they had won at such cost.

As you watch her near her peak—her legs wrapped tight around the natural predator of her kind—you know that you have a choice to make. As an incubus, you are fundamentally a creature of pleasure. But the pleasure you cause can take different forms. There is pleasure to be found in lying next to you as one of your lovers... but there can also be equal pleasure found in submitting to you as your servant.

Some incubi prefer to instruct their conquests in one kind of pleasure, some the other. Some prefer to maintain a balance between the two, tailoring their approach to the situation. You know that some women will respond differently to either method, resulting in different outcomes. Not to mention the ripple effects to others who observe the changes, and their positive or negative reactions to what they see.

Still, the question remains. Now that this succubus has fallen, how will you treat her?