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From: Sthethya <sthethya@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Succubus Tale: Part III
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This story is (c) 1998 by Sthethya@hotmail.com. This story nor any part
of it may be reproduced without consent of Sthethya@hotmail.com


(Part I: Sthethya recounts her early childhood and how she now resides
at her uncle's townhouse in Rome. Her desires are awakened; she tastes
her uncle's semen and makes a discovery about herself.)

(Part II: While spending three days in a visit at her father's cottage,
Sthethya's true father, a demon, visits her and takes her virginity,
while scraping and scarring an evil symbol on her mons veneris, the
night before she is to return to her uncle's house.)


The Succubus' Tale: Part III

I felt sick with an ague all the morning after the demon's visit. My
horror and sickness of soul were slowly replaced by anger at the
creature which violated me the evening before. This rage I had growing
inside of me was cold, direct, deliberate. I decided that, even if the
demon had fathered me, it was not my father. The sweet, handsome
blacksmith was my father. And my father doted on me like no man ever did
or would. I feared for him now, and if it meant never seeing him again
to protect him from the evil that had taken root in me, I would
run away to the furthest ends of the earth.
	My father was a tall man for his day, nearly six feet tall, but
long of body and short of leg. He had deep brown eyes with lines at the
side, and swarthy skin from the sunlight. He also had a beard, which
he kept tight next to his chin in a blacksmith's style. He always
smelled of leather and coal-smoke, and had an easy and infectous laugh. 
I used to take a kind of semi-erotic pleasure out of sitting on his lap,
but now the thought of fucking him and killing him caused the worst kind
of nausea in my belly. I steered clear of any thoughts in that
direction.
	But today, he was worried about my upcoming trip back to Rome. We sat
at the rough-hewn wooden table near the fireplace. "Maria," he said,
"It's about three hours back to the City. I don't think you should make
the trip if you feel chill. You feel almost feverish to my hand. Perhaps
you need some more sleep."
	I smiled at him to dispell his fears, for the first thing I wished to
do was leave his house so that any other visits from the demon would not
happen there. I said, "It is merely residing in my nose, and I feel
fine, other than the slight chill. There was a fog last night, perhaps
that is the cause of it." 
	My father raked his fingers through his hair, looking thoughtful. "I
have a spare blanket in the chest in the rear sleeping room. You will
take it with you." He rose up from his seat, and went to the fireplace,
where he poured a cupful of hot mulled wine into a mug. "Here, drink
that. It has some herbs for ague within."
	I took the hot cup and stared within it. Usually, before this morning,
I had a normal appetite, but I realized that this wine repulsed me, now.
As did the bread and cheese on the table. I attempted a sip of the wine
and winced. It was as unpleasurable as drinking mud, 
but I managed a sip and a small, hesitant smile to my father. "You know,
I shall bring this into my room so I might drink it while I attend to my
packing." My father nodded at that, seemed about to say something, then
shook his head as if in denial to himself. I did not prompt him, but
instead took the wine into my room, where I threw it out of my window
onto the damp earth, and watched its blood-red color ooze into the mud.
	The mid-day approached slowly. I was in fear now, even for seeing my
uncle, after the demon's talk of death and fucking. My young mind was in
a turmoil, and it was with only a slight sense of relief that my father
announced my uncle's wagon from the other room. I picked up my sacks of
clothing and walked out, after making sure the bedding and bedroom were
clean and bore no trace of my torture the night before.
	My uncle looked pale next to the tall, healthy image of my father. His
skin was sallow, and his lips were thin lines, as if a man tormented by
something, illness or deed. My father voiced his concern, but my uncle
waved it away, claiming a stomach dyspepsia after a particularly rich
meal. After a few minutes, my uncle bowed to my
father and my uncle and I walked outside and boarded the wagon. My
father threw a blanket over my shoulders and smiled cheerfully as he
waved us away.
	About fifteen minutes out of the village, we were starting to pass
farms, and soon we would be in the rocky forests. I feared nothing in
particular...I just feared, and my uncle stayed silent for the first
hour. 
	Sometime after the first hour he blurted out, "I have been unable to
sleep or properly eat for these four days, for my desire of you. I must
have you again, God forgive me, or I shall go mad. I found a place, an
old stone barn without a roof, not more than an hour's travel from Rome,
and we shall go there today. You and I, we shall make love there, so
that I may find some release from the maddening lusts that make me want
you so." His voice cracked, for he must have seen me shrink away at his
confession. He grabbed my wrist, painfully, and said, in a rising voice,
"You will obey me, or bad things will happen to you. Do you understand?"
	His grip hurt my wrist. I was unable to pull away, but aches began to
race up into my womb at his touch. I closed my eyes as a sick fear mixed
with the waves of lust starting to yank at my clit and sodden my
underclothes. His touch made it start all over again. My other hand
reached up to hold to the amulet I had pinned to the inside of my robe,
but there was no relief there. The next hour went by excruciatingly
slowly, and my uncle nearly started racing his poor horse as we drew
near to the turn-off leading to the abandoned stone barn. It was part of
an unused, mostly-swampy area near one of the tributary streams, before
the rocky ground would rise to the hills surrounding Rome. Now all that
was left was a stone barn, overgrown with weeds and vines, and my uncle
drove the horse within and tied him to a rock on the ground, never
letting go of my wrist, even when we descended off the cart.
	Once inside, he grabbed me and kissed me hotly on the lips, moaning his
lust into my mouth. It was as if I stood outside my body and watched my
wanton reactions to the man kissing me. He lifted my dress and slid his
fingers into my bared, sodden pussy. At this point, I cared not whether
or not he saw the pentagram scar marking my pussy as tainted by a demon.
I just wanted this man with a raging hunger that should have made me
fear for his life. 
	I reached out and grabbed for his cock inside the codpiece banding his
leggings. It was already stretching free of its confines, arcing out
eagerly and waiting. He untied his leggings and piece, and let them sag
to the ground. He pushed my head towards his cock, wordlessly, and I
descended to my knees before my uncle, grabbing his hips and engulfing
his cock immediately between my lips.
	Oh, the velvetyness of that cock. The sweet, maddening taste of his
precum as it pulsed small globs over my tongue drove me insane. The hot
scent of it, throbbing and eager, proclaimed its willingness  to
sacrifice its juices into my unholy throat. He wailed as I began to
suck, fingers gripping frantically at my head with the sensation of my
smooth, hot mouth sucking him exquisitely. What should have caused him
pain was instead pleasure. 
	His hips bucked back and forth, and his balls began to bounce off my
chin as my throat opened like a snake's to take him down into my gullet
with each stroke. I sought to devour him, like the snake swallows a
mouse, so that soon my lips and nose were buried in the thicket of black
hair foaming around the base of his shaft. The slamming of his body into
my face began to bruise my lips.
	Each fresh thrust sent a new small pulse of pre-cum to inspire me to
suck harder, faster. The man was at my total mercy now, for there was no
stopping the insane animal we had become. We were one creature now,
locked together, both of one mind, seeking the same release, only I was
the taker and he was the taken. He *would* give me his cum, there was no
question. When that certainty took its place in my mind, he lifted
higher up on his toes and let out a roar that might be heard for miles.
Thick, ropy streams of cum started arcing into my throat and I drew back
so that the head rested on my squirming tongue, that I might taste the
ambrosia as it welled forth from his balls.
	I felt the orgasm rocket up from my toes and grab my womb like a
squeezing fist, before it broke into a series of belly-shocking waves
that ripped through me in time to the pulses of cum racing out of his
cock. I shook in place, as if with a seizure, as I desperately drank him
down.
	This time I had enough control to pull away after he pulsed himself
dry. He slumped down and sat in the grassy dirt, heaving breaths,
looking not like a man who just experienced pleasure, but rather one who
just experienced pain. He looked almost sick, yet more at peace than he
had when we came to the old barn. 
	I stared at him for a moment, while still tasting the hot aftertaste of
his cum on my tongue. I licked my lips clean, and walked to the cart and
sat up in my place, waiting for him. He straightened his clothing and we
continued on to Rome. Before we entered the city, my uncle said, "At
moonrise tonight, you are to meet me in the loft
above the stables at the back of the house." I said nothing in reply,
and when he looked at me sharply, I just nodded my agreement.
	When I arrived back in his household it was as if nothing had happened,
which as far as my aunt and cousins were concerned, nothing had. My two
cousins suddenly seemed even more annoying, girls as they were, and my
uncle's wife seemed vapid, cow-like, insipid. My whole world was now
colored with an intolerance of stupidity which liked to mask itself as
innocence, and I found myself spending the day alone, avoiding my uncle
and tending to my needlework.
	When night came, I waited until the house was asleep, and at moonrise
that night, an hour before midnight, I slipped out of the bedroom I
shared with my two cousins, and went to meet my uncle in the loft. 
	He was not there, but a dull red glow was in the corner of the hayloft.
A familiar chuckle shook me roughly to the core, and I whispered, "My
uncle will soon be here. You had better leave, demon."
	The creature stepped out of the shadows, its pointed, hideous teeth
bared in a rictus of a smile. "I think not. Your uncle is exhausted
after your fine job of draining him this afternoon. No, he shall sleep
soundly until morning, without even a nightmare to disturb his sleep."
	I sat in the hay, hands gripping my skirts tensely. He continued, "You
see the possibilities before you, do you not? Your effect on the mortal
male shall be overwhelming, when you wish it. You must first learn
control, or the merest touch of your hand or your nearby presence will
drive men to raging lusts. While you may want that effect on occasion,
it is inconvenient when you are trying to mask yourself in the mortal
realm." 
	I listened to him dully, my mind still working on the memories of that
afternoon, when my uncle was desperately thrusting his cock into my
mouth, as if seeking oblivion in the release of his sperm down my
throat.
	The demon said, "You will learn that all mortal men wish death, deep
down. They seek pleasurable deaths, the ecstasy of oblivion that only a
succubus or a skilled mortal whore can offer. A man tortured by lust is
a tool to be used in our struggles against the Enemy." I looked up at
the demon, past his jutting penis and into the expressionless red glow
of his baleful eyes. He said, "It will be your duty to further our cause
on Earth."
	I said, "What if I choose not to?"
	He chuffed. "You can choose not to, and die. You will die in a
pain-wracked way, desperate for release but too weak to move after a
time without the delectable taint of mortal semen." He moved closer to
me, then, and lifted my gown up over my head, and picked me up in his
arms like a doll.
	He continued, " Your oblivion will come slowly, not before you have
explored all the avenues of desperation and desire. Even if you were
able to battle and overcome your desires, and sink into death, you would
wake up in torture in the lowest reaches of Hell, where you would need
to work for centuries to crawl out of the pit into the ease of the
mortal world." 
	I hated him now more than ever. He took delight in my horror and
despair. The stink of his flesh overwhelmed me just as it had the night
before, and he yanked off my drawers and let them fall to the floor. He
turned me around in his grip so that my back was to him, and the hard
jab of his animal penis was wedged up between the soft globes of my ass.
He grunted in satisfaction at the trembling in my body as I readied
myself for the onslaught of pain.
	I sobbed, "Don't...there must be another price I can offer you." He
held me in place off the ground, and thrust. Arcing, intense pain raced
out from my asshole where the tip began pushing inside. He grunted, "No,
this is my price. Your virgin ass. Then I shall teach
you how to suck cock properly, and how to control your passions." He
slapped my ass. "Beg me not to fuck you."
	I gasped, "No!" as he nudged at my asshole, causing me considerable
pain again. He said, "Beg your father not to fuck  you."
	I screamed, "You're not my father!" and at that his claws dug into my
flesh, painfully. He hissed, "You doubt me? No? I suppose it's a pitiful
display of your loyalty to that sack of scum playing at blacksmith, mm?
Should I tell you again how tight your mother's pussy was as I fucked
her?" My struggles excited him. I wanted to turn and attack him, punch
him, kick him. Instead, I was held motionless, on the edge of becoming
impaled on his cock. He laughed, and said, "I will make you call me Papa
before I finish you tonight."
	Slickened by the copious precum leaking from his tip, the
wedge-shaped head eased into my ass bit by bit, until the head popped
into that violated hole with an audible sound. Accompanying the sound
was a hot, poker-like pain that set my body dancing in his grip. He
thrust at me madly now, working back and forth while his cock sawed in
and out of my poor, tender asshole. He whispered, maddeningly, in my
ear. "I am your papa. Say it." I stayed silent except for the soft
sounds of pain bursting from my lips.
	Hot demon cock raped me yet again. Like the first time, I enjoyed it
even as I hated him fiercely. His cock roughly thrust within my bowels,
and as my asshole stretched to accomodate him, the pain began to dwindle
to be replaced with lust. I threw myself back at him as the pleasure
began to overwhelm me. I began swearing back at his curses in earnest,
whoreson, bastard, filthy abomination, and it seemed to excite him even
more. 
	He slammed once, twice, violently, imbedding his cock deep in my
bowels. He stopped, and whispered, "Call me Papa, whorebitch."  At my
silence, he was soon using me like a rag doll to fuck his cock, and his
balls slapped roughly against my pussy on each of his impaling thrusts.
Every time I came close to orgasm, he would stop, maddeningly, with the
ring of my asshole sucking and throbbing around the base of his imbedded
cock. He would whisper, "Call me Papa." He would not resume at my
stubborn silence until my frantic buildup would ebb away. He repeated
this over and over, until I was mad with passion and desire for release.
Finally I screamed, "Fuck me, Papa!" and he did not begin to move. He
hissed, "Who is your father?" and I said, "YOU!" 
	At that, he began fucking me violently again, this time moving his hips
side to side on every thrust, as if he sought to completely fuck every
angle of my bowels. My small ass bounced against his bristled hips and I
came, and came again with this filthy violation.
He howled, and I bit back my screams of pain/pleasure as gouts of his
thick, scalding poison filled my bowels with hose-like fury.  After
he spent the contents of his balls deep inside my ass, he lifted me off
his cock with an audible popping noise, and threw me to the hay.
His thick cock lurched, slick with brown ooze from my ass. He smiled
wickedly, and my instruction on how to suck cock began while the
juices from my fucked ass still coated his cock.
	Not only did I learn how to suck cock to drive any man mad, I learned
how to extract even more cum out of their bodies than they would
otherwise give. I learned finger pressures and magical fields
to coax every available drop from their bodies, so much so that one
suckling would lead them to exhaustion.
	My other instruction that night included how to avoid giving into lusts
as they presented themselves, and how to shield myself from causing
lusts in men until I was ready to allow them. I returned to bed
while it was still night, a full hour before the beginnings of dawn,
sore, violated, and filled with hatred. 

Next: The innocents are delivered, and the family falls.

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