The Succubae Seduction: Chapters 10-14

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Chapter 10
Nice Sunday Picnic.

“Who are you?” I demand of the attractive, blue eyed and very naked girl lying under me. An unmistakable feeling around my slightly stiffened penis tells me that it’s nestled comfortably within her vagina. Wait. . . . No way! “Jennifer?”

“Ha, ha, funny Lyden,” she states, batting her lashes at me. “Trying to forget that you fucked this fat cow already?”

“Umm,” I start, not sure how to tell her about her transformation, “you might want to get a look at yourself.”

Her brown eyebrows knit together, as she tries to figure out what I’m getting at, before using her not inconsiderable strength to push me off her. My cock makes a squelching noise as it pulls free from her coochy, and I see her wince in pain.

“Oh, I’m going to be sore down there for awhile,” she grimaces as she lightly gets to her feet. She miscalculates, and ends up jumping as she attempts to lift her old weight off the ground. I sit back on the couch, and really get a good look at the woman that only a little bit ago, had to weigh over 250lbs, but right now, couldn’t be more that 120lbs, and a good portion of that is in her breasts. Slender legs lead up to a nice round bum. Her hips are a little wide, but they don’t compare to the size of her still giant tits. They hang down to her bellybutton, but not bad, just oversized. TanaVesta would be jealous.

Her face had always been somewhat cute, in a pudgy sort of way, but now, with her short brown hair, and vivid blue eyes, she’s a stunner.

She’s making the same examination as me, only she’s lucky enough to be hands on. Sticking her small right foot out, she examines it in disbelief, before hefting her breasts apart, and staring at her skinny waist.

“What the FUCK did you do to me?” she demands, and I’m surprised to hear anger in her voice.

“Umm, I, uh,” I stammer, not certain what to say.

“Don’t you think that if I’d really wanted to be skinny, I could have worked for it?” Yeah, there’s no mistaking the anger in her tone now. “I may not have been anyone’s ideal, but that doesn’t give you the right to go and change my body around to your own tastes!”

“I didn’t mean to,” I defend myself. “This has never happened before!”

“What did you think?” she continues as if I hadn’t even spoken. “That I’d be grateful for the fact that I’ll need to buy a whole new wardrobe? That I’d somehow be happier if I weren’t so portly?” As she continues to berate me, her volume rises until she’s yelling by the end. “What gives you the right to do this to me?”

Standing quickly, I can feel my own ire rising at the injustice of her anger. “Jennifer, stop! I had no way of knowing this would happen. It’s not something I did to you on purpose, and don’t even truly understand why it happened. If you really don’t like it that much, just eat whatever you please, and don’t work out. I’m sure you can get back to where you want to be within a few months.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” She demands, and once again I’m stumped. Are all women so arbitrary, and expect us men to just read their minds? “It’s not so much that I’m no longer fat, but that now that I have this body, I’m going to have to work harder at keeping it. I was mostly okay with the way I was. I understood that I would never be skinny, and accepted it. Now that I am, I’m going to have to work hard to maintain it.”

At some point in her explanation I must have sat back down on the couch. Stunned, I can only stare at her openmouthed. She’s angry because she has to work to keep this body? I will never understand women!

“Or, you could just have sex with me on a weekly basis,” I tell her, half joking.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Make you my own little skinny addiction? What? Just come up to you, and say, ‘Excuse me Lyden, I need my weekly fucking to stay skinny.’” The sarcasm veritably drips from her tone. “Besides, if I’m always this sore afterwards, they’d have to be a week or two apart.”

Throwing my hands up in frustration I shout, “Bah! I don’t even care anymore. Do what you want. If you’re not happy about it, I’m sorry. It wasn’t intentional, and I would change you back if I knew how. I don’t, though, so you’ll just have to suffer everyone looking at you, and wishing they could catch the eye of the beautiful blue eyed woman that you are now!” Now I’m shouting, and I don’t care about that either.

“You . . . you really think I’m beautiful?” Her words come out hushed, and I have to strain to hear them, over the sound of the blood pumping through my skull.

Is she bipolar? “Are you kidding me? Go look in a mirror,” I state, waving my hand off vaguely. I have no idea where a mirror might be in this rustic cabin. I vaguely recall her telling me there is an outhouse out back. Do outhouses have mirrors?

Without warning, she’s hugging me tight, and laughing into my shoulder. Lemme tell you, if a woman built as well as her hugs you, and you’re both naked—well, except that I still have my socks on—you either react, or you’re already dead. I may be angry, but I’m definitely still alive. It doesn’t help that her very ample bosom dangles down and bounces around my very alert cock.

“Oh!” she gasps, pulling away, and noticing how hard I am. “Shit, did I really get that in me this morning? No wonder I’m so sore!” I decide not to tell her that my penis conforms to whatever woman I’m with, and just nod at her. “Well, I’m afraid you’re going to have to find someone else to take care of that. I hurt too much to do it for you.”

She tries to back away, but I grasp her wrist, and pull her back to me. “There is more than one way to take care of me,” I inform her, then pull her the rest of the way to my waiting lips. Hesitantly at first, but with growing desire, she kisses me back.

Letting go of her wrist and grabbing her tits, I press them to either side of my woody, and moan with the pleasure the soft globes give me.

She pulls back only slightly, and looks to where the head of my prick is barely poking out between her round orbs, and then smiles at me. “You like fucking my big titties, don’t you? Well, fuck them with your big cock. I want to see you cum all over them.”

Her dirty talk is really starting to have an effect on me, and even though I’d gotten off just a little while ago, I can feel myself getting close. This is the first time I’ve ever had my dick between a set of boobs, and I have to admit that the feeling is quite wonderful. When her mouth drops down, and I feel her extremely talented tongue swirl around the head, I lose it. My first shot goes off in her mouth, and she pulls back, allowing the rest of my cum to spray all over her chest and neck. She spits my jism onto her chest, and then sits back on her knees, staring at her shiny bosom.

“I can’t believe I got you off that quickly,” she murmurs. There’s a definite sparkle in her eyes, as she stands up, and walks out of the room. There is also no mistaking the extra bounce in her step. Despite the energy I’ve transferred to her, I still feel quite alive from all of her orgasms this morning.

I get dressed, before entering the attached kitchen, where Jennifer has a washcloth and is trying to get herself cleaned up.

“How do you get this stuff off?” She asks me as she continues to scrub.

“Use a bit of soap,” I tell her.

Once she’s fully cleaned, we head back to the couch, where she stares forlornly at her oversized clothes. Her old guard uniform looks more like a muumuu than a shirt, and her pants are hopeless. Only her shoes still fit, and she has to tighten the laces on them.

With her as decently dressed as she can be, we head down the mountain, and back into civilization. Our first stop is to get her some new clothes that I happily pay for. I then have her drop me off at the police station.

I have my story ready as I walk in. Jennifer follows me, and all the officers turn and look jealously at her. In her tight pink spaghetti strap top and even tighter jeans, she’s a teenager’s wet dream.

“What can I do for you,” the officer behind the glass window asks. Thankfully it’s a man, as his eyes are glued to Jennifer’s chest. I’d been afraid that a woman might be upset with the way she’s dressed, but this works well. Jennifer, for her part, and despite her protestations to the opposite, seems to be really enjoying the attention.

“Yeah,” I begin my lie, “I’ve been up camping with my girl here, and when I got home this afternoon, my apartment was burned up and my car was missing. Who do I need to talk to about that?”

With some obvious effort, he tears his eyes away from Lansbury, and finally gets a good look at me. “You’re Lyden Snow!” he exclaims as if he doesn’t believe it. “We’ve been looking for you.”

Crap! Apparently I’m already a suspect. Hopefully I’ll be able to stick to my story, and get away with everything.

* * *

Eight hours later, and innumerable interrogations, I find myself back out on the front steps of the police station. They finally bought my story that someone must have stolen my car after starting the complex on fire. The fire had burned too hot to know where it’d started, but they do know it’d started somewhere on my floor.

To my horror, I find out that twelve people died in the fire, and thirty others were injured. They’d found my car in the grocery store parking lot where it’d been burned, and gunshots had been heard. I’d become their primary suspect, but I have an alibi and a witness. Thank goodness for Jennifer. She’d held up like a champ as they talked to her. They’d released her a few hours before, and when I call her as they finally release me, she doesn’t answer.

Since I’ve missed a few calls from Lisa and Becky, I call them up next. Becky is out the door and on her way to get me before I even hang up.

“You stink,” the very short brunette says as she hugs me.

“Good to see you too,” I laugh.

“I was so worried when I saw your apartment complex had burned, and then you weren’t answering your phone, and then they were plastering your face all over the news, and I didn’t know what to think.” I can tell how worried she’d been, by how quickly she’s talking and of course by her tone. While it warms my heart to know she cares, I feel guilty about cheating on her and Lisa with Jennifer and Sheila Lance, my boss. She’d been concerned about my well-being, while I’d been having great sex. Oh, and being terrified for my life. I probably shouldn’t forget about that.

We get into the short woman’s car, and she jabbers about school, work at her law firm, and the stupidity of some people. Thankfully she doesn’t ask about where I’ve been, or what I’ve been doing.

She tells me to use the shower, while she gets started on making dinner.

The water feels great as it washes down my body, and despite myself, it even feels as though some of my worries go down the drain along with the dirty water.

“Welcome back,” a voice says as I hear the curtain pulled back. I turn to see Lisa stepping in, lithe body nude, and eyes sparkling. “Hope you don’t mind, but I got a little sweaty instructing Aikido today. Mind washing my back?”

I chuckle silently at her forwardness, and don’t mind at all. The only soap in their shower is the fru-fru kind, so I know I’ll smell a little girly when I get out, but it’ll work well for the pretty blonde. Squirting some into my hands, I lather them up, before rubbing it into her smooth back. For the first time I notice how toned her body is. Must be from all the martial arts training.

Using my fingers and thumbs to dig into some knots on her back, I turn the back wash into a massage and enjoy the sound of her soft moans. Her small rear keeps bumping against my groin, and I’m hard in no time. I ignore my own state however, as I move my washing massage to her arms, and then to her hands.

“Mmm, I love a good hand massage,” she murmurs, her blue eyes looking into mine. Her body turns to face me, and she doesn’t miss how hard my cock is. She goes to grab it, but I stop her.

“Not yet,” I say, smiling at her confusion. “Let me take care of you first.”

Finishing with her hands, I move to the front of her shoulders, and then scrub vigorously between and under her breasts, studiously avoiding her hard nipples. Her stomach is next, and I take a couple moments to wash out her belly button. She giggles delightfully as I finger the shallow hole.

Turning her sideways, I wash her right hip and buttocks, before moving down her thigh, to her knee, and then work the muscles in her calf. Dropping to my own knees, I take her foot in my hands, and spend a few minutes on it, watching her face and enjoying the looks of pleasure my hands are giving her. Even with the water and soap running down her body, I can tell she is getting turned on by how swollen her labia are.

Staying on my knees, I turn her to face the other way, and repeat the process on her left hip and leg. When I’m satisfied with the job I’ve done on her left foot, I stand, and before I can say or do anything, Lisa’s arms are around my neck and her slippery body is plastered to mine. Her tongue forces its way between my lips, and I grin as I allow it access. My hands drop to her rear, and I pull her even tighter to me, my prick stiff, and pleasantly smashed between us.

“You need a shave,” she tells me, but then plasters her lips against mine again.

It finally dawns on me that this is the first time I’ve been alone with Lisa, and am actually turned on by the idea of devoting my attentions to just her.

Using my grip on her bum, I lift her up without breaking the kiss, and gently guide her onto my rod. She moans as our connection becomes complete, and even I can’t hold back the sounds of my own pleasure.

My right foot slips slightly, and I have to turn and press her to the wall, while bracing my feet on the side of the tub, to keep from falling. She grunts as her back hits the wall, but her legs wrap around my hips, and she begins to use her abs to move her hips up and down my cock. Her insides feel so soft and warm, as my penis conforms to her, and I begin to match her pace.

My right hand slips a little more under her, and I easily slip my middle finger into her anus. Lisa goes wild at the added sensation, and I feel the strength of her orgasm wash over me, taking with it any feelings of fatigue that might have lingered after the police station. All the while, our mouths are wrestling with one another, and her kissing becomes more frantic and powerful.

Her legs drop from my hips, and I carefully let her down, as she pulls away from me. The water running down her hair makes it look darker than usual, and her blue eyes sparkle as she smiles up at me. Her chest heaves, and the effect of the water beading on her soft skin is quite erotic. “What is it about you that always feels just right? You seem to know just what to do to please me.” Her hand goes to my groin and moves along the length as she gives me a surprisingly chaste peck on my cheek. “Now, we just need to finish you off.”

Lisa grabs the soap and squeezes some onto my member, before rubbing it in. Her hands feel great, and she has a powerful grip as she jacks me off. Just when I begin to think she plans on finishing me this way, she turn around, and rubs my head against her puckered brown hole. Once she has me lined up, she pushes back hard, and I find myself delightfully ensconced within her colon.

I place my hands on her hips, but she turns, shaking her head. “No, you took care of me, let me do the work now, and take care of you.

Not willing to argue with such a request, I place my hands behind my back, and moan gently as she pulls forward, and then slides her rear back onto my aching pole. Watching as my length slips in and out of her sphincter, while she screws herself on me is really turning me on. The feeling of her tight bum gliding up and down my soapy length and her firm globes slapping against my thighs, draws forth moan after moan from me. It doesn’t take long until I feel that familiar churning in my scrotum and grip her hips, forcing her to pick up the pace. To my surprise, she pulls away, and drops to her knees in front of me, using her awesome grip to jack me off again. My first volley of semen blasts onto her chin, before she re-aims me, and the rest of my seed splatters across her chest.

I have to brace a hand against the wall as I climax, and as soon as she’s done milking every drop from me, she begins to scoop it off her chest and lick her fingers clean.

“Mmm, I love the taste of cum, and yours always seems to give me extra pleasure!” I wonder if that’s because of my incubus abilities, or something else?

“If you two are done fooling around in there,” Becky yells, “dinner’s ready.”

We both laugh, as we get out and dry off. Becky watches us unashamedly, as I use one of their towels. “I hope she didn’t wear you out, Lyden, because I expect some attention tonight, also.”

Dinner is a simple fair of green beans and hamburger in some kind of sauce. Despite its simplicity, it tastes rather good, especially considering the fare I’ve been having lately.

“Thanks for taking me in tonight,” I tell the two women as I get up and start cleaning my plate in the kitchen sink. “I promise I’ll get a motel room tomorrow, staying there until I can find another apartment to move into.” I have no idea what I’m going to put into a new apartment though. I didn’t have renter’s insurance on my old one, which is part of the reason the police believed that I had nothing to do with burning it down. Maybe the apartment managers have some kind of insurance to compensate its tenants, but luckily I still have all that money from whoever overpaid my rent. I strongly suspect it’d been Angela that’d paid all my bills, but I have no way to prove it, and no idea where she would have gotten all that money.

“Don’t be crazy,” Lisa states, bringing me her plate, “you can stay here as long as you need.”

I open my mouth to protest, but Becky cuts in first. “I know we don’t know each other well, but there’s no sense in spending money on a motel room, when we both have a perfectly comfortable bed to share.” From the way her eyes sparkle, I have the feeling that they’re not going to take no for an answer, and that there won’t be a lot of sleeping going on in those beds. Whatever luck led me to these two women, I don’t know whether to curse it, or thank it. A month ago, these two young ladies wouldn’t have looked at me twice. Today, they can’t seem to stop staring at me.

My theory is proven right after I finish cleaning the kitchen—yes, I cleaned it, because I’m a guest and they’re letting me stay here. It’s the least I can do. The women practically rip off my clothes, and it’s not ‘til many hours later that that the women go to sleep. For my part, I’m too full of life to even think about slumber.

* * *

Jennifer grins at me after Becky drops me off at my office building.

“Well, Mr. Snow. Have a good day off yesterday?” She gives me a wink, and even goes so far as to pinch my rear as she allows me past the security checkpoint. Somewhere she’s picked up a smaller uniform, one that somehow fits her considerable assets while conforming to her hips as well. I’m not the only person that notices her body, and there is even a slight scuffle as two guys walk into each other, because they were staring at her.

“I tried calling you last night,” I tell her, wondering why she hadn’t answered.

She grimaces slightly, and I wonder what’s wrong. She glances at everyone around us, before responding. “I’ll talk to you later. See you at lunch?”

What’s going on? I wonder, as I take the elevator up to my floor. It’s not until I walk in, and can feel Sheila’s cold glare that I remember what Jennifer had told her.

Sitting at my desk, I see I’ve already received an email from my boss.

Mr. Snow,

It has come to my attention that you have a girlfriend. I will not play party to such behavior. As of now, we are through, and I will tolerate no further such behavior from you.

There isn’t even a signature at the end, and I glance up to my boss wanting to explain, but she’s studiously not looking my way. Unfortunately, I can’t seem to come up with a plan to get her alone, without appearing suspicious to my coworkers, to explain.

Come to think on it, should I explain? Sure, Jennifer isn’t really my girlfriend, but I do have a girlfriend, or two. Other than having an angry boss, maybe it’ll be good to stop fooling around with her. Once again, I’m tempted to just up and quit this job. It’s not like I don’t already have enough stress in my life!

Something stops me, though. It’s not that I need the money, but with my apartment gone, my car destroyed, and my entire life flipped upside-down, my job is the only thing I have left.

Why did Angela have to come into my life? Everything started after she showed up in my office. Once more, I feel a pang of hurt from thinking about the succubus, which inevitably reminds me of Brooke leaving.

I need to get over them. They’re my past, and I need to concentrate on the present.

“Mr. Snow, get back to work,” Sheila states a little louder than I think is truly necessary, but I get back to work nonetheless.

Lunch comes painfully slowly, and I head down to the lobby to meet up with Guard Lansbury.

“You showed up,” the now skinny woman states, and from her tone I can’t tell if she’s happy or disappointed. She walks an arm’s length away from me as well, and now I’m truly curious as to what’s going on. We walk to a deli around the corner, and I offer to pay for her, but she refuses.

“Look,” she starts when we sit down with our food, and I immediately feel my heart sink, “you know I like you, Lyden, but things have been a bit weird. No, let me finish,” she says when I try to interrupt, and I close my mouth. “You’re involved in something very dangerous, and I’ll help you out if I can, but I’m not going to hang around just looking for trouble.”

“I understand,” I tell the pretty woman, and I really do understand. Truth is, I probably shouldn’t even be around Becky and Lisa, but I’m still human, and need some level of companionship. Now that four women have basically rejected me in less than as many days, I’m beginning to wonder what’s wrong with me.

Just last week I could have my pick of women. This week I’m lucky to have. . . .

Wait a minute! Why am I getting down on myself? I have two, count ‘em, TWO girlfriends. Just because I don’t have six? What kind of demented man am I? After last night, I’m not sure if I can really handle any more than two women right now anyway. What is wrong with me?

Yeah, Guard Lansbury’s decision is a good thing, I tell myself.

I only wish my heart would buy what my head is selling.

We try to talk amiably through the rest of lunch, but I think we both know it’s strained.

When I get back up to my office, I find a flyer on my desk for a church gathering this Saturday, and know that AnnaBelle must have placed it there. My first response is to rip it up and throw it away, but maybe this is what I need right now.

“AnnaBelle,” I say to the woman sitting in the desk next to mine, “I’m truly sorry for what I said on Monday. It was inappropriate, and while I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I’ll do what I can to go to this event.”

“It’s not my forgiveness you should strive for, Lyden, but our Lord and Savior’s. Only he can truly forgive.” I hate this pious attitude, but I’d meant what I’d said about being wrong in my behavior. “But know that I have already forgiven and forgotten your words from Monday. You’re a young man, and I remember when I was younger. I’ll see you there.”

I nod that I will indeed be there, and even though I’m dreading the experience, I actually intend to follow through.

The rest of the day flows smoothly, and despite the occasional glares from Sheila, I actually feel somewhat better.

After work, I take a cab to Lisa’s Dojo. She finds an outfit for me to start getting trained in. At first I’m embarrassed to be lumped into a group of young children. Even though I know I’m a beginner, and I have to start somewhere, having a six year old kid flip me onto my back is humiliating.

I find out that Aikido is a martial arts form that doesn’t use strength so much as holds, pressure points, and avoiding direct attacks. It takes me a bit to get used to thinking like this, but after the umpteenth time of a child controlling my movements, I start to pay better attention.

I catch a ride home with Lisa, and offer to make dinner. When I serve my concoction up, we all agree that I may not be the best cook.

Both women are still thankfully satisfied from last night’s marathon session, and I’m actually able to get a little sleep sandwiched between the two attractive women. This time we’re in Lisa’s bed, as Becky’s sheets are still in the laundry because of last night.

The rest of the week seems to go by smoothly. Even Sheila Lance stops glaring at me, only snapping at every little distraction from work.

No more assassins show up to kill me under TanaVesta’s orders. No more drama from any women. Jennifer tries to treat me as she used to, before our first kiss, but we both agree it’s too awkward, and our interactions end up reduced to curt greetings. Every time I see her walking her rounds, I have to laugh at all the men ogling her. She tries to grimace every time she catches someone looking her way, but the way she moves her hips, or readjusts her clothing lets me know she’s enjoying the attention.

I find a great apartment to move into on Friday, but by then, both women refuse to let me go, telling me that I can just stay there and pay rent. A strong part of me wants to have a little bit of freedom, but deep down I’m not willing to give them up either, and end up staying. I end up buying a whole new wardrobe, and Becky gives me a corner of her closet to use.

Saturday rolls around, and I’m surprised to find that both women want to go to AnnaBelle’s church’s event with me.

We dress nicely, and Becky drives us—she has the nicer car—to the address on the flyer.

AnnaBelle’s church is a large attractive white building, with a large lawn. People dressed in Sunday finery are amiably chatting, and I can see a couple tables being set for an outside picnic.

The religious woman from work spots me as we walk onto the lawn, and I can tell her smile is forced as she takes in Becky and Lisa on my arms.

“I’m so glad you could come,” she says, “and I’m sure the Lord is too.”

“Thank you for inviting us,” Becky says.

“We brought a Jell-o salad,” Lisa follows up, presenting the desert.

It’s obvious that AnnaBelle doesn’t know how to take the women’s behavior, but she smiles, saying, “The bigger the flock that follows our Lord, the better,” and takes the bowl from the blonde-haired woman.

“You weren’t kidding,” Lisa says in a whisper as AnnaBelle walks away. “She really is overzealous.”

“Be nice, Lisa,” Becky says, but I can see her eyes sparkling with mirth as well.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have come,” I say, feeling uncomfortable surrounded by so many religious people. It feels as if my skin doesn’t fit well, and that at any moment, someone is going to show up and start judging every bit of my past.

“I don’t recall seeing you here, before,” a deep voice, sounds behind me.

I turn to see a man with a deep tan and brown eyes. From the way the two women start to unconsciously preen, I’m guessing that with his ruggedly chiseled face and flowing brown hair, he must be quite attractive.

“AnnaBelle invited us,” I say, offering the man my hand. Already I don’t like this man, but I can’t place my finger on exactly why. “I’m Lyden, and these lovely women are Becky and Lisa.”

The man grips my proffered hand in a powerful grip, shaking it firmly. “I’m Reverend Michael Chilton, parishioner of this humble flock.”

Okay, I’m beginning to know why I don’t like this man. His eyes are hard, and even though they are on me, it’s obvious that his attention is on my girlfriends. From the flush in their cheeks, they’re noticing the attention as well.

“Well, welcome, and I hope you enjoy. Any chance we’ll see you in our service tomorrow?” Before I have a chance to respond, he turns and sees AnnaBelle approaching. “Ah, well I see our sweet AnnaBelle is returning. Please let me know if I can answer any questions for you.”

He takes the women’s hands and bends over each. I can’t miss how each woman’s flush deepens.

“That man is the most humble and pious man I’ve ever met,” AnnaBelle says as she comes back to us. I grunt noncommittally, not wanting to say what I really think about the reverend. “Food is served,” she then says, turning to us.

We follow her up to one of the tables, and wait for a prayer to be said for the food. I’m not sure if it’s just the mood I’m in, or if it’s something else, but the blessing seems to drag on as thanks is given for everything under the sun, and there are no less than three references to Reverend Michael.

We serve ourselves, and then head over to a picnic table, where AnnaBelle and another young couple join us.

The conversation turns inevitably towards the high and mighty Reverend Michael. It doesn’t take long until my appetite is shot. What is it about that man that has everyone all atwitter?

The end of the picnic can’t come quick enough, but thankfully it does end. AnnaBelle walks us back to Becky’s car.

“I hope to see you in service tomorrow,” the religious woman says. Religion can be a great thing, I know, but I have no intention of coming to the great and humble Reverend Michael’s service.

I watch curiously, as Annabelle’s face drains of color and her mouth drops open.

I turn to follow her gaze, and feel my heart plummet. It can’t be, my first thought sluggishly moves through my mind. What happened? No! I won’t accept it! I was just getting better. I was just starting to be able to go most of a day without thinking about her.

Angela is holding her side, blood obviously seeping through her fingers. She is still in her punk guise, but I can see where her nose and eyebrow rings have been torn from her face.

“Lyden,” she gasps as she collapses, still a good twenty feet away, “we have a problem.”



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Chapter 11
Resurrections.

My legs are moving even before what I’m seeing fully sinks in. The twenty or so feet between Becky, Lisa, AnnaBelle, and I blurs as I super speed to the injured Angela’s side.

“Angela, what happened?” I cry out, as I bend down to pick her up. Blood trickles from torn flesh at her eyebrow and nose. Why did I have to add that jewelry to her image last time? A small part of my mind ponders while my eyes rove her wounded body. Her eyes are closed, and I realize that it must have taken her last bit of strength to reach me. Her breathing is shallow and labored, and I can’t believe how much blood is seeping from the hole in her side. Her clothing, burned and charred, is little more than rags. What skin is whole underneath it is red, raw, and blistered from her numerous burns. “Who did this to you?” I demand, anger welling up in me at the violent treatment of the succubus, but she’s unconscious and doesn’t respond.

“Lyden, who is it?” Becky asks as the other women finally catch up to me.

“Oh my God!” Lisa exclaims as she gets a look at Angela.

“Taking our Lord’s name in vain won’t help the young woman,” AnnaBelle admonishes. “We need to get her to a hospital.” Somehow the older woman is able to keep her voice calm, and I wonder how strong her resolve is. I’m freaking out!

Reaching my arms underneath her, I lift the petite damaged body up, and look around. Despite the picnic having just ended, no one else is even close to us.

“No hospitals,” I say firmly.

“Lyden, she needs help,” Becky argues, but I shake my head.

“I can help her, but we need to get somewhere quiet,” I tell them, knowing that I need to get into the demonic creature’s mind to transfer energy to her. I don’t know what her physiology is like, but I’m guessing it’ll stump a doctor and raise more questions than we can afford.

“You know this creature.” AnnaBelle’s voice makes it clear that that was a statement and not a question. Her use of the word creature, and not girl, makes me wonder if the pious woman can sense the injured woman’s nature. “We’ll take my SUV so that we can all fit. I live just a few miles away. Lyden, you work on her wounds in the back, while I drive.”

“What about us,” Becky asks, but it’s Lisa that answers.

“He’s going to need our help,” the martial artist says, and we follow the older woman to her large vehicle.

The women try to help me get the blue haired woman into the back of AnnaBelle’s SUV, but I’m able to do it alone. I know they just want to help, but I don’t want anyone else touching her. There is so much blood!

Ripping off my shirt, I tear it apart, and start using the cloth as bandages while we head to my coworker’s home.

“Lyden, what’s going on?” Becky asks. “Who is she? What happened to her?”

“I don’t know, and she was a friend,” I tell the short brunette while trying to staunch the blood flowing from her side.

If anything else is said, I’m not aware of it, as I try to enter the succubus’s mind while still awake, but it’s no good.

The SUV jounces as we pull into a driveway, and I look outside to see a rather nice looking suburban home. The walls are brick and mortar, with a small white picket fence around the front yard.

AnnaBelle opens the back door to her vehicle, and I carry the still insensible Angela into the home. Religious pictures adorn every wall, and there is even a piano in the front room. Everything seems to be covered in white doilies, and in one corner is a collection of porcelain dolls in a wood and glass cabinet.

The older woman leads us back to a room that adds a whole new level to the color white. White bed sheets cover the bed, while white curtains frame the open window. The walls and even the carpet are white. The only objects of a different color are the five people in here, and a large painted portrait of Jesus opposite the bed.

I don’t even hesitate as I lay Angela on the bed, soaking the white linen with her crimson blood. Despite my best efforts, some blood still seeps from her wounds, making a stark contrast to the white bedding.

“What do we need to do?” Becky asks, leaning over me and examining Angela. “How are you going to help her, Lyden?

It takes a strong effort of will to stand up and look away from Angela and to the three women.

“See what you can do to stop the bleeding. AnnaBelle, is there somewhere close I can take a nap?” If the odd request surprises her, AnnaBelle doesn’t show it. I’d prefer to stay in here, but I won’t be able to sleep if the other women are taking care of Angela’s wounds.

“Right this way,” the older woman says, and leads me to an adjoining room. This one is thankfully a different color, even if it is yellow. I’m glad to note that not everything in here is one color. The pillows on the bed are orange. “You know what she is, don’t you?” the older woman asks, and I nod. I don’t have time to wonder how she knows.

Without even taking off my shoes, I lie down on the bed, and concentrate on falling asleep. Bit by bit, I block out the noises from the next room. I ignore the feeling of drying blood on my pants, hands, and chest, just focusing on the thought of sleep and entering into Angela’s mind. My body is so geared up with fear and worry that it seems to take an eternity, but finally I find myself surrounded by complete darkness.

It’s different this time, however, than it had been with Brooke. The blackness is tinged with red, and while I feel fine, I can sense her pain around me.

“It won’t work,” a pain-filled voice says as Angela appears before me. “You’re wasting your time.” Her clothing is whole again and blood free, but there is still an unhealthy pallor to her skin.

“Angela, what happened? I need to get you healed. You’re dying!” I tell the woman, but she sadly shakes her head.

“If we have sex in my mind, I’ll die,” she states, and I feel my heart plummet at her words. It’s one thing to know her life is in danger, and another to actually hear it said aloud. “You’re too good at pleasing me, and I’m too weak to have even one orgasm.”

“But there has to be a way!” I plead, not willing to give up.

“Listen, that’s not important. Brooke is being held prisoner by Varun. You need to go save her.” Her words send a new chill down my spine, but I shake my head, trying to stay focused. “You need to worry about her more.”

“Not important? We can go rescue her as soon as you’re better,” I tell her earnestly.

A tear forms in her eyes, as she steps up to me and grips my hand. “Thank you, Lyden. I’m glad you care for me, but you need to get to your friend. She needs you now, and at least you can help her.” She pulls away, and I try to grab her back, by my hands go right through her. “Take the key-card out of my pocket. You know how to use it to get to the Shadow World.” She fades a little in my vision, and I can barely make her out as she turns and says, “I’ve missed you, but maybe there is still time for Brooke.”

“Dammit, Angela!” I swear. “There has to be a way!”

Her shadowy form smiles at me. “Don’t swear, love. I know how much it bothers you.” She pauses, and I can just make out her features enough to know that she’s trying to come to a decision. “Get me to your car. It might be enough to save me.” Those words seem to take a toll on her, as if it took a great effort to get them out.

Her form completely vanishes, and I find myself back on the yellow bed.

My car? But it’s destroyed; nothing more than a burnt husk! Filled with despair, I walk back into the white room.

“Lyden!” Lisa shouts as soon as she sees me. “We’ve got the bleeding stopped and some of the burns covered, but I’m afraid she’s lost too much blood. Were you able to help her with whatever you were doing?”

My throat closes off, and I can’t find the words to reply, so only shake my head.

“What did you do?” Becky asks me quietly, and I feel fresh tears streaming down my cheeks.

What did I do? I didn’t do enough. I didn’t do anything. If only my car were still whole, then whatever she’d hidden in it might have helped her, but the fire ant had destroyed it. I’m certain she’d hidden something in my car, too. How else could it help her?

But what if whatever it was, survived? The car hadn’t become ash, just severely burned up. Maybe I can still save her!

With renewed hope, I pull my cell out of my pocket, and dial up the police. I end up getting transferred twice before anyone can tell me where my car was moved to.

An impound lot, halfway across town.

I call the number for the lot, and get an answering machine. The message says that they’re closed on Sundays, and only open until six pm on Saturdays. Glancing at a clock on the wall, I see that it’s a quarter after five.

I don’t even take the time to think, as I dash back into the white room and scoop Angela back into my arms.

“AnnaBelle,” I say as I head for the front door, “can you get us to the New Towne Impound Yard? It’s down by the fifth precinct building.”

“Lyden,” Becky says hesitantly, as though she’s addressing a mentally challenged person, “I don’t see how that’ll help her. She needs a hospital, if it’s not already too late.”

“Becky, Lisa, I know you won’t understand, and you should probably get home.” I look both women in the eyes as I speak, willing them to understand. “Angela isn’t like a normal person, and human doctors can’t save her.”

“You mean, like an alien?” Becky asks confused.

“She’s a demonic creature,” AnnaBelle says, as I follow her out to her SUV. “A seductress, to be precise.”

Despite my recommendation that they head home, both women climb into the SUV.

“How do you know that?” I ask from the back of the vehicle as we hit the road.

“I know the signs to look for,” she replies cryptically.

“A demonic seductress?” Becky snorts, but from the serious looks the older woman and I give her, she quiets down. Lisa just looks thoughtful. I can’t help but wonder what’s going through their minds. I take my girlfriends to a nice religious Saturday picnic, and a woman that I obviously know shows up wounded. Not only that, but I refuse to take her to the hospital, and even try to take a nap to save her. Thankfully their not peppering me with questions, though I have some of my own.

“If you know what she is, why are you helping her?” I ask AnnaBelle, confused that such a religious person would knowingly be willing to help someone like Angela.

“Whatever you do unto the least, you do unto me, Mr. Lyden,” she quotes to me. “No matter who they are, all of God’s creatures deserve to be helped when we can. She may even repent of her ways, and come over to the light. I have no doubt that Father Michael could help her out a great deal.”

While I don’t necessarily agree with her reasons or morals, I won’t argue with the result. My jealousy rears, however, at the thought of Father Michael being anywhere near Angela.

I keep a constant eye on Angela’s breathing, and can hear Becky and Lisa murmuring quietly. I ignore them, as I make sure that the succubus is still alive. The drive seems to go interminably slow, though I know AnnaBelle is going as fast as she legally can.

We arrive with five minutes to spare, but the sign in the window already says closed. I spend a couple minutes pounding on the door, but nobody answers. Walking around to the side, I try to see if there is another way to get in, but the fence is about ten feet tall, and topped with barbed-wire besides.

I know what I must do as I run back to AnnaBelle’s SUV.

“You might want to get out of here, so that you can’t be accused of breaking and entering,” I inform the three women, glad my shirt is already off, even though it made poor bandages for the succubus.

“We may not understand what’s going on,” Lisa speaks up, “but Becky and I are here to help. Even if it is at an impound lot.”

AnnaBelle seems to debate with herself for a moment, before adding, “Someone needs to keep an eye on you and keep you out of trouble. Don’t take this the wrong way. If the police show up, I won’t lie for you, but you need to save her life.”

I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all of them, but a weak cough from Angela brings my attention back to the wounded woman.

I’m tempted to use AnnaBelle’s SUV to crash through the gate, like in the movies, but they’re already putting their necks on the line for me, and I don’t want to get them into any more trouble.

Without saying a word, I hold the blue-haired woman close to me, close my eyes, and stifle a yell as I feel my dragon wings protrude from my back. I ignore the startled oaths that come from the women at the sudden appearance of my new appendages, as well as the fatigue that follows. Thank goodness Becky and Lisa have both been so horny the last few days, or I’m not sure if I would have had the energy to do this.

Bunching my feet beneath me, I shove off hard, easily clearing the fence and the wire. At the top of my arch, I spread my wings, careful to keep my balance, and feel the air fill the thick brown leather. I don’t trust myself to try and fly, only using them to slow my descent.

I still land a little harder than I like. Taking stock of my surroundings, I groan inwardly. I hadn’t realized how big this lot was from the outside. I’ll never find my car in here.

The sound of barking dogs grabs my attention, and I curse myself for a fool. Of course they would have some sort of security!

With Angela tucked tight to my chest, I start running, hoping to stumble across my car. Picking a row at random, I take off, looking in all directions for my car, while simultaneously watching my footing on the uneven dirt ground.

Alone and on flat pavement I know I could outrun the beasts chasing after me, but as it is, I can hear their howls getting closer as I turn down another isle. I can almost feel time slipping away, and know that the succubus is getting weaker as I try desperately to find my car.

The dogs continue to get closer, and urgently I concentrate on just finding my car. Naturally, that’s when my foot catches something in the dirt, and it takes about ten steps before I regain my balance. By this point the dogs have caught up to me.

Frustrated rage fills me, as I see four dogs surround me and growling menacingly. I’m angry about Angela leaving, and then coming back like this. I’m angry at the unjust turn my life has taken, and that twelve people died in the fire that claimed my apartment complex, because some dragon decided I needed to die. Anger at how this last week has gone at work, and because I know that both Lisa and Becky are now probably terrified of me, and because I can’t seem to find one single car in this entire damned yard. Impotent rage flows through my veins, and I roar back at the dogs, spreading my wings and yelling for all I’m worth.

Apparently, that’s all it takes, and all four dogs take off yelping, two of them leaving trails of piss in their wake.

“Ha! That’s right,” I scream after them, but my euphoria is short lived, as I look down at Angela. Her face has gone ashen, and I can’t tell if she’s still breathing. “No, no, no,” I repeat, as I drop to my knees, and place my fingers on her neck.

Nothing.

Placing my hand over her mouth, I can’t feel any breath. The bandages that’d held back her bleeding are completely soaked through, and I realize that I’m too late. Angela has died in my arms, and I couldn’t save her.

Hot fresh tears fill my eyes, as I scream for a different reason. She’s gone, and there is nothing left.

Running out of air, I suck in to yell again, but an odd noise catches my ear. Someone is honking. The sound isn’t very loud, but it IS familiar.

“Hold on,” I say, though I know it’s already too late. This time as I run, I’m not looking around, but keeping my footing secure and heading for the sound. It doesn’t take me long before I’m standing in front of the remains of the Orange bubble.

Apparently it hadn’t been as damaged as I’d thought. My memory tells me that the car had been a completely blackened husk by the time Jennifer had driven me away from that grocery store parking lot. However, before me, I can see that the doors still retain some of their color, and the dent on top where I’d landed on it doesn’t look as bad as I’d thought it’d been.

I don’t waste any more time, and quickly wrench open the passenger door, setting her inside. Opening the glove compartment, I reach in to see if I can find what she was after, but only find ashes. How hot had that fire been? Had it been hot enough to burn whatever she’d hidden in here? Was this whole exercise an act of futility?

Unexpectedly, I hear Angela sigh, and I look back at her in shock. I can make out her chest barely rising and falling. She’s still alive! Whatever it is that she needs must be close, I reason, and with renewed hope, I start digging around my car. Nothing but ashes, and my car’s interior meets my gaze. Frustrated, I pop the hood, and look into the storage space there, the engine being in the back, but all if its contents have been turned to ash as well.

“Angela,” I ask softly, resting my hand on her shoulder, “We’re at the car, but I can’t find what you need.”

“The . . . car. . . .” she whispers back.

“Yes, the car. But where?” I plead with her, and then notice something. Her face is no longer gray. Her breathing is steadier, and I can even sense that she’s getting stronger.

That’s when it dawns on me that what she needed wasn’t something in my car, but the car itself.

What had the Cyclopes done to my car under the succubus’s direction? How can my car heal the demonic creature?

Something else occurs to me, and I take a step back, looking at my car as a whole. My car had burned up from the fire ant’s attack. I do remember seeing the blackened husk of the Orange Bubble, but it is recovering now. In the almost week since the close call with TanaVesta’s assassin, the car had been fixing itself somehow. The dent in the top is smaller, and even as I watch, I can see the orange paint creeping up the exterior. Almost as if having Angela and the car together has somehow sped up the process.

Maybe even. . . .

“Lyden.” The whisper is soft, and I can just hear it, but I rush back to the open door and see Angela’s hazel eyes open and staring at me.

“You made it,” I whisper in awe.

The corners of her mouth rise slightly, and she says, “You did it. Thank you.” She weakly tries to raise her hand, but I reach out and grasp it, returning it to her lap. “You shouldn’t have helped me, but thank you.” She repeats herself. “You need to go save Brooke. She needs you now.” Her free hand ruffles through the rags of her clothes, and pulls out her keycard, handing it to me. Somehow it survived whatever happened to her better than she did. “Get to her, and save her. I’ll be fine now.”

Watching as her burns slowly heal themselves, I understand that she is tied to the car even more than I realized. Are her burns because of the fire ant’s attack on the Orange Bubble?

I realize that she wants me to leave her here, but I don’t think I can do that.

“I’m not leaving you,” I protest. “Not yet.” I hurry around my car, and get into the driver’s seat. Hopefully the car has recovered enough, but when I go to start it, there are no keys. “Dang it!” I fret, hitting my hands against the steering wheel. And just like that, the car attempts to start. It obviously has some issues as the engine in the rear doesn’t sound very good, but after a number of tries, it starts.

Both doors close on their own, as I put my car in gear and drive.

A loud crash accompanies the sound of my car crashing through the main gate. Angela groans at the impact, and I curse myself for forgetting how linked the two are. The tires had been flat when I’d started driving, but by the time I pull up besides AnnaBelle’s SUV, they’re full and riding smooth.

“She’s going to be okay,” I say after the women follow me to a nearby gas station.

Becky and Lisa both go to check on the punk clad woman, and introduce themselves. AnnaBelle pulls me aside, and there is a serious look in her eyes as she looks at me.

“You’ve done a lot of wrong today, but you saved her life. I hope you don’t end up regretting your decision.” Her tone is sadly disapproving, but I don’t care. Angela is going to live!

I open my mouth to respond, but Lisa comes over, and states, “She keeps saying you need to go save Brooke. Isn’t that the woman that lived across from you in your old apartment?”

AnnaBelle sighs heavily, and we both turn to look at her. “Seems like you’re going to need some more looking after, Lyden.”

“Now hold on,” I protest. “I truly appreciate all that you’ve done so far, but I can’t ask you to go into the Shadow World for me.”

“Shadow World?” Lisa asks, but I just shake my head.

“It’s where Angela and Brooke are from,” I explain. “I probably don’t have time to explain it in detail, but it’s a lot more dangerous than anywhere else here on Earth. Basically envisage almost every mythical creature, both dangerous and benign, produce some just for fun, and that’s where they live.”

Lisa looks me hard in the face, before giving herself a nod. “I’m going. You could use the help, but just one thing. . . .” She reaches out, and I realize my wings are still wrapped around my body as she tentatively touches them. “What are you?”

* * *

Becky decides to head back home. She feels guilty, but when it’s decided to take my magical car, we have to admit that there isn’t room for the five of us. If I had a choice, only Angela and I would go, but AnnaBelle claims her faith will protect her, and I’ve learned firsthand just how capable Lisa is with her martial arts.

Angela tries to stop the two women from coming along as well, but they won’t have it, and to my own surprise, I come to their aid.

“Look, Angela, you’re already wanted for bringing a human to your realm. Is being wanted for two more really going to matter?” The succubus submits to my logic.

Once we’re all loaded, and Becky is Driving AnnaBelle’s vehicle away, I turn us in the direction of the office building that leads to the Shadow World, but Angela stops me.

“There is another portal that will take us closer to where Varun is keeping Brooke. We’ll lose some hours on Earth, but gain more in my world.” She pats the car, and smiles at me. “Besides, things will be easier with your car, and there is no way to get it into that elevator.”

Following her directions, we head towards Florida.

With the Orange Bubble and Angela together, my car is fully functional in a couple hours, and I no longer have to manually drive it.