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From: Sthethya <succubus17412@level7.hades.org>
Subject: The Succubus Tale; Part I (incest, supernatural)
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(c) 1998, Sthethya . No portion of this publication may be reproduced
without
express written consent of sthethya@hotmail.com
-----------------------------------

Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Sthethya, First Consul
Succubus to his Supreme Evilness. Some of you might be surprised;  I'm
sure you didn't know succubi were still around in this day and age.

What is a succubus? You might well ask that, for we often visit mortal
men in the comfort of their dreams. We are creatures born out of the
union of daemon with human; we are abominations of nature who thrive on
the male life
force. We steal life from men by stealing their sperm, which we use
later for other magics and to support our own existance on the mortal
plane.

I have been a succubus for over nine hundred of your years. During that
time, I have felled empires, corrupted godly men, and spawned evil and
hatred on Earth. While Earth may be more complicated now than it was
several hundred years ago, there are still many opportunities for evil.
You don't think all the current sex scandals were created by mere mortal
women alone, do you?

 Now that you doomed mortal men have delivered all those thousands of
gallons of warm, delcious cum into my hungry orifices, I should confess
that there have been relatively few instances where I've been impressed.
Often, especially in my earlier years, I have had to seduce three or
four men a night just to fight off the weakness of starvation. Despite
this, there have been many memorable encouters.

These are my memoirs and my daily journals. Some of them date back from
when I was still a third-rank succubus;  the weakest kind. Third-rank
succubi have to feed several times a night  or else it's *ZOOP*! back to
the lowest levels of the Big BBQ for a few decades while they build up
enough strength to climb outward for their next foray
into the mortal world. You can find the junior succubi standing on
street corners now-a-days....or working
in Vegas brothels..
-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Succubus Tale: Part the First

I can remember my mortal existence, although it is hundreds of  years
past. My name was Maria, and I lived near Rome. These were troubled
times for the Italian States, with local unrest and problems with the
Church (which would soon be moved to France). The year was, I estimate,
somewhere around 1250 AD, and I was the only daughter of a tradesman,
actually a blacksmith. My family was well-known in the area. My
grandfather had been a local landowner and merchant. He had three sons;
the eldest blackened our family name
by entering the priesthood. The middle child, my father, became a
blacksmith.My youngest uncle followed in my grandfather's footsteps and
was a merchant with ties to Venice. My mother was one of the most
beautiful women in all of the world. She was  in love with my eldest
uncle, but after he went into the priesthood and refused her,
she became my father's wife. I feared my eldest uncle absolutely; he was
a great, tall, dark man, with deep-set brooding eyes of a pale color and
a stern demeanor. He always viewed me with a dour expression, as if he
could see my innermost sins without my confession of them.

They said I was the image of  my mother. My mother was dark and lovely,
with flashing
eyes and an infectuous laugh. She was very much in love with my father.
I remember nights at a tender age, while I still lived at home,  being
occupied with lying awake on my pallet, my fingers playing within the
soft, damp, velvety folds between my legs while I listened to
my parents fuck in the room next to mine. I never confessed my desires
to the priest out of  my fear of my uncle. and I was not even old enough
to bear children, but I still had great lusts raging in my small soul.
My desires were confusing and powerful...so great that, starting from
about age seven, I would place small objects up inside my untouched
virginity so that I might walk about during the day and feel them slide
and bulge inside of me. And now, with the first small hints of my
maturity, I had started to achieve orgasms on occasion, which were new
and very heady rewards for my carnal labors. But it was still not enough
for me. I craved more...much more...and I could not put a name to the
craving. My mother caught me masturbating several times and spanked me,
telling me that it was a sin and that I must not. Her face always went
white when she saw any hints of sexual behavior on my part, but I am
sure she never spoke of the incidents to my father. It was from my
mother that I learned to keep my desires secret.

Unconfessed, my sins boiled in my heart and multiplied  in my soul.
Despite the fact I had the face and body of a sweet  dark angel of a
girl, my soul was tormented by  mortal sin.  My mother died when I was
eleven from a wasting disease that cameon so mysteriously that the
people of our town said she was felled by an evil eye. I felt a crushing
guilt, and believed it was my lusts that doomed my poor, lovely mother
(in fact, I was not half wrong).  My guilt was compounded by the fact
that I found myself, after her death, with inexplicable effects on men
and boys, who now seemed to find me strangely compelling no matter where
I went or what I did. The effect seemed to extend to my father, whom I
found staring at my developing breasts before he flushed dark red and
told me he was going to send me away to my younger uncle's house for
without a mother I needed to be brought up as a young lady should. My
uncle, his wife, and his two daughters lived in the merchant's quarter
of Rome. I was excited...to live in Rome instead of our little village!
I was able to visit my father once every fortnight, but I missed him
terribly. My greatest discomfort, however,  was that my eldest uncle,
the priest, also visited my youngest uncle more often than he did my
father (since my youngest uncle actually lived in Rome and not several
miles distant). I found myself facing this man several times a month
over the supper table.

Ah, but Rome seemed to make up for all these horrors. I was often
allowed out with my aunt and my cousins to go on shopping trips, and
there were men everywhere I looked, unlike the small population back in
my home village. Men! They were fascinating creatures, large and strong.
I wanted one to pick me bodily into his arms...and then what, I was not
sure. Although I was still unknown to men, I had no illusions as to what
sex entailed, nor was I immune to its possibilities. Men began to affect
me while I was still very young, and I had a definite affinity for their
company, my father especially. I loved sitting on his lap and smelling
the combination of leather, sweat, and sulfur, but I had no experience
in the joys of male anatomy, until I was introduced to them while I was
still a girl.

My sinful lusts were to blame, bless them. I had escaped to the loft  at
the rear of my uncle's house often in the early mornings while others in
the house were still asleep... the only private place I had to seek
relief since I now shared sleeping arrangements with my boring and
innocent female cousins. This particular summer morning was already
sultry and bright, and my short robe was gathered up around my narrow
hips while I lay cushioned in the hay.. My legs were spread wide and
open to allow my fingers full purchase inside the shallow folds of my
vulva. I delighed in the warmth of a beam of light that I had positioned
myself to allow to fall directly on my swollen and tingling clit. There
were other thin shafts of light coursing through the dusty air, which
originated through the shutters from the morning sun and I could feel
warmth shining on my body and glistening pussy while my fingers rubbed
furiously at my clit. I had been spread and desperate for release for a
full ten minutes on the rough but cushioning hay.

The fact that I was barely orgasmic gave me no stay against trying
anyway. I was straining, trying to catch the hook that would plunge me
into another frantic explosion of fluttering and subsequent temporary
relief from the raging desires that were consuming me. I was now old
enough to experience that exquisite release, but still seemingly young
enough that orgasms did not come easily; when they did, I felt near to
fainting from the pleasure and enjoyed actual peace of mind for a few
hours afterwards, until the maddening desires clutched at my pussy once
again.

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