The Succubus Diaries (Closed for LassardLost and Slut_in_White)

LassardLost

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If you had told Ethan Hawthorne two years ago that he would find a deep interest in the occult, the twinkle in his eye and his endearing smile would have genuinely thanked you for giving him a hearty laugh. Given his good nature he would have thought you a funny man, maybe given you a few friendly verbal jabs at the high quality of your imagination, and would, of course, completely disregard your statement.

Ethan was a smart college goer, finishing his degree in biology in just one more semester, and was slated for medical school thereafter. His basketball scholarship had gotten him through college, and his gregariousness and kind nature, not to mention his handsome demeanor had served him well. If you had asked his best friend to describe him in a sentence, he would have said something like, “He’s fucking perfect.”

Ethan didn’t get caught up in it all. For whatever reason, he always had a balanced disposition, and he didn’t let any of the popularity or attention get to his head. It’s not that he had to work hard to not let it. It just didn’t.

But Ethan now stood, somewhat befuddled, at the entrance way to his summoning room. His summoning room. It was as if ever since last Halloween - ever since Dr. McGalley had taken him into her basement - something had taken hold of him. He simply had to know more...

"Since you boys have come early," the words echoed in his mind, "would you like to see something I don't show everyone?"

The next memory, the memory that replayed in his mind again and again, that haunted him in his dreams, that inexplicably occupied his every waking moment, was what he saw that night in Dr McGalley's basement.

As she walked around periphery of the room, lighting the candles as she did, the room became dimly lit, and as it did, the flickering candle light revealed walls covered in markings, unusual characters, all in either red or black. At a space of about every five feet, mounted on the wall, was a deep purple-tinted wooden bust of what looked like some kind of demon - two short horns coming out of its head, its tongue curling out of its mouth, its brow pushing down a frown over its blank bulging eyes. If Ethan's heart had jumped into his throat before, it was as if it were absent from his body in this moment, and he felt as if he had the wind knocked out of him.

Dr. McGalley turned around and smiled at him, that same warm smile she always had in class, except it wasn't the same. It was now that Ethan realized what that smile had really meant all along. This was that smile's natural habitat. This... dark, horrible place.

Ethan then found himself looking at the ground, and his eyes fell upon an unusual star-like configuration with unusual characters written around it - a pentagram he thought it was called at that time - with a large circle drawn around it.

Dr. McGalley began to laugh, and a deep whoosh seemed to fill Ethan's head, dizzying him. He felt like its presence threatened to take him away from his life if he didn't hold on... his eyes fixated on the pentagram, which began to glow a deep orange...

...and that was all he could remember of it. He recalled in a daze attending the party, having a "good time", and then waking up the next morning wondering whether he had been dreaming.

Of course the next day he had asked Finn about it, but Finn simply made fun of him and stated he had drunk too much punch. He had even seen Dr. McGalley, who gave him the same warm smile - but it didn't seem to bother him, and he had started feeling absolutely silly about the whole thing. It must have been a dream. At one point he attempted to ask Dr McGalley about it in an indirect way.

"Dr McGalley, remember your last Halloweed party?"

"Yes, why?"

"I... do you remember showing anything to me and Finn?"

Dr McGalley had blushed, and Ethan had felt miserably embarrassed the moment she did. Still, she was gracious about it, and she smiled, offering Ethan a pleasantry. "I seem to remember showing everyone my well decorated Halloween living room!" She laughed, her tone clearly indicating feeling uncomfortable at such an unusual and suggestive-sounding question.

It had to have been a dream. But it had to have not been as well. Because ever since that day - or dream, or whatever it was - Ethan felt a deep desire to learn as much as he could about the occult. He spent hours in the stacks, on the internet, in any dingy little bookstore he could find within driving distance of university.

He had been able to maintain his grades, and a bit of social activity. He was still the same good natured Ethan Hawthorne that everyone new and counted on. He still volunteered his time on the weekends at the local soup kitchen. He still received accolades and recognition in his role as a teaching assistant for the Biology 303 lab he ran. He still played basketball for the school team. But in any free moment he had, and with much secrecy, he learned all he could about the ultimate goal of the occult: contact with the other world.

The Darklands, the Dark World, the nethelands, the spirit realm - there were different names for it. There were different manifestations in different cultures over time. The stories always had similar themes though. A place of darkness, that fed off humanity, a place of demons and other spirits - some for but most against humanity. And for some reason, Ethan found no desire greater than to see one of them. To speak to one of them.

He had no idea why. For every moment he read the books, or learned how to read the occult characters, or obtained the trappings necessary for the summoning room, he felt as if he was outside himself, watching himself do it.

Now, after six months of painstaking searching, and increasing his work hours to pay for all the paraphernalia, his summoning room was complete. It would be midnight soon, and that would be hour in which he would need to read the incantation.

He readied himself.

He wore black slacks, a black button down shirt and black shoes. He was an athletically built young man, his shoulders were strong - he was a basketball player after all. He stood tall at 5'11", though he was one of the shorter ones on the team, he was fast and powerful. His dark brown hair was gelled up messily, as usual, his dark eyes, looked intently at the pentagon in the center of the wooden floor of what used to the study in his apartment. The walls were covered with the carefully placed characters that needed to be there, as was the floor. The candles had been lit. Ethan had stood in front of his bathroom mirror and marked in black on his forehead, the character associated with being a summoner. It was supposed to indicate to whatever creature he would end up summoning from other place that he was the one that had brought it here, and that he needed to be obeyed. Or at least Ethan hoped. The entire project was far from rational. Ethan felt as if he were acting under some kind of directive. But from whom, he had no answer.

Ethan stood before the pentagram, the lights off except the flicker of candle light around the periphery of the room and the periphery of the pentagram. He held his book of notes before him.

Producing a small blade from his pocket, he cut the tip of his finger, wincing a bit at the pain, and let three drops of his blood fall into the middle of the pentagram. He sucked the finger until it stopped bleeding and then began reading the characters in his book.

As soon as the sound vibrated through his vocal cords the room darkened slightly, the candles flickered as if there was a sudden draft that had entered the room - though all the windows and doors were shut, curtains over all of them. Ethan began to feel the whoosh he had felt in Dr McGalley's basement. It seemed familiar, and it made his heart jump and skip into his throat. Something told him he should stop, but he simply couldn't. He just needed to see what would happen. He had come this far and there was no way he would stop now just because of a feeling, no matter how he felt.

This determination was important, for as the whooshing sound in his head became louder, he felt an emptiness in his breast that almost took the wind out of him, and as he finished his incantation, the pentagram on the floor began glowing orange.

"AH!" Pain! Ethan felt a throbbing, stabbing pain in his head that was unbearable, and he heard voices - hundreds of voices, some screaming, some mumbling, some laughing, all dark, all horrible, all... he wanted it to stop... "Stop!" He screamed. "No, stop!" He clutched at his head and fell to his knees.

The last thing he remembered was looking up and seeing a deep shadow somehow take form in front of him on top of the pentagram.

And then he fell to the floor, and passed out.
 
Life essence comes in many forms. It was a base requirement for performing magic of any kind, and though the humans had lost touch with their own beliefs long ago, the deep, instinctual awareness of the power of life essence remains.

Blood. Semen. Breath. Humanity still had a strange, taboo sort of love affair with each, even though most of them don't remember why.

Of course, there were a few, still, who remembered. Any of them who admitted to this knowledge were shunned by society as a whole. Which was remarkable, when you think about it, given how human society has grown dark and cold in recent years. Growing ever close to the Nether in nature, and ever further from it in knowledge. For those in the Nether who required human contact for sustenance, it was a frustrating pattern. They were coming so close, so close to breaking through simply by their natures, the darkness in the human heart making it easier all the time for those dark beings to be summoned across the veil and into the material world... and yet, those who actually attempted to do so were growing all the more rare, all the time.

Thankfully, the instincts were never lost. Any human who tried to perform a summoning knew, in their heart of hearts, that their own life essence was required, and that blood worked best for the working of magic.

Of course, the didn't mean each demon had a particular preference for blood. Some, yes, but they were rare and powerful. Occasionally called vampires, they fed on the blood of humans to sustain themselves. Rarely were they called up, but when they were, they could rule from the darkness within the human world for an age. The last time that had happened had been the age of the Impaler.

The least powerful of the demons who fed on human life were those who drank their breath. Weak, stupid and unerringly cruel, the humans called them mara or kana, depending on where they were from. They could, in these dark days, cross without a meaningful summons, for just long enough to drink the breath of a sleeping human, so long as they were having a nightmare at the time.

And in the middle, the succubi, who fed on the sexual energy of men. Many think they are related to incubi, and indeed, their actions in the human world are similar, but serve a fundamentally different purpose.

Astarte was such a creature, a being hungry for a human man. She could feel the tug of a summoning on her existence and allowed herself to be carried across the threshold, into the human realm, and into Ethan Hawthorne's home.

The three drops of blood in the middle of the summoning circle called to her, and her essence slipped into it. Blood was powerful - even those drops alone filled her with a certain kind of energy. The drops roiled and twisted, stretching and growing up from the floor until they formed the silhouette of a human woman, lying stretched out, comfortable and cat-like, across the pentagram. She could hear the man crying out in pain, and saw him collapse as her vision began to clear. The blood drained away, and left in the circle was a woman, almost indistinguishable from a human woman barring the strange glow to her eyes and the intricate glowing patterns seared across most of her body.

She was starving. Awareness of the hunger felt different in the Nether, when there was no body to ache and cry out for pleasure. Climbing unsteadily to her feet, she looked down at her new body and found herself smiling. She was just slightly shorter than middling height, her skin pale enough to give the dark, swirling shapes across her skin a particularly pleasing glow. Long, dexterous fingers raked through thick hair the colour of spiced chocolate. Her eyes, ablaze with lust, were glowing the colour of hot embers. Hew body was slim, athletic, with a curve over her waist and hips that seemed - and indeed, was - perfectly crafted for Ethan's hands.

Completely nude, she brushed herself off and stepped carefully out of the circle, over her summoner's prone body. She knelt over him, her hips straddling his, and leaned forward until her full lips were hovering right next to his ear. "Wake, summoner." Whether it drew his attention or not, her lips and tongue immediately began to follow a hot, wet trail down the column of his neck while her fingers worked open the buttons of his shirt. She kissed and nipped at each new inch of his exposed chest as she went, moaning softly as his body began to respond physically to her touch, even unconscious as he was.
 
Ethan's eyes blinked open slowly. Before he could register what Astarte was doing to him, or feel that he had already started becoming hard at her ministrations, he grabbed her nude hips and began pushing firmly, wriggling out from beneath her.

"Off! Get off! Stop!" He exclaimed as he pushed back and stood up, scurrying back towards the wall, his eyes instinctively dropping to the ground at the site of a completely naked woman in his house.

But he knew exactly what she was. Her eyes, the markings on her body, the absolute beauty that even in that moment he had glimpsed - he had summoned a succubus.

His heart pounding, his eyes fixed against the floor, he frantically scanned his mind for everything he had read on this kind of spirit. They fed off of men's sexual desires. They had their way with them, taking their soul from them and ending their life to feed themselves. He knew she would be absolutely beautiful to him, she would be molded in his most desirous form. Which is why he kept his gaze firmly fixed on the ground. Any temptation meant death. And temptation could be avoided only if he didn't look.

Despite the fact that he had just summoned a demonic spirit into his home, and that this spirit had taken the form of the most beautiful woman he had ever glimpsed, Ethan felt that the haziness in his mind that had been driving him to this moment for the past year had suddenly lifted. He had a clarity that he had almost forgotten. And in that clarity, he found himself wondering:

What the fuck have I done?

Ethan tried to calm himself. He could remember clearly that he had placed the Mark of a Summoner on his forehead. That should put him in a position of control. The thing he had to make sure he didn't do, was look.

Now more than anything, he wanted the thing to be gone. With his clarity returned to him, he wanted to have nothing to do with any of this filth. He wanted to get back to his life the way it was, and be rid of whatever he had just done. He recalled that there were incantations that would send the demon back to the abyss from whence it came, however he could not remember any of them as hard as he tried.

So instead, he decided he would try to convince it that he would never give it what she needed. And that if she did not leave on her own accord, she would die from starvation.

His heart still pounding, he mustered a firm voice and spoke.

"You're not going to get what you want. You might as well leave. Or die. Those are the choices I am giving you."

Ethan kept his eyes fixed to his feet, even as he could sense that the thing was approaching him. The brief image he had seen of her flashed in his minds eye. The touch of her skin still seemed to echo from his hands straight to his groin, and he felt himself hardening as he saw her bare feet and slender ankles enter his field of vision on the floor right in front of him.
 
Astarte climbed back to her feet after Ethan has scurried to the wall. He was terrified of her, of the fact that he'd summoned her, and the thought made her lips curl slowly and sensuously up at the corners into a delighted smirk. Oh, this was going to be fun. She liked playing games with her summoner. It'd been too long since she'd had someone summon her for anything other than a quick romp - a night of sex, then banishment back to the Nether in the morning.

Boring.

She crossed the room towards him, licking her lips as she went. She could feel the arousal radiating off of him, getting stronger as she got closer. The temptation to simply jump him again was nearly too powerful, but she knew he'd push her off again. And, like it or not, as her summoner, she really did have to listen to him. Sort of. It was a question of matching his will against hers when he gave her a direct order like that. Her will was strong, but that mark gave him inherent power over her that meant that she'd probably lose.

"You're not going to get what you want. You might as well leave. Or die. Those are the choices I am giving you."

"But what about what you want?" she asked in response, her voice low and sultry. She stepped towards him again, and suddenly, instead of staring down at his feet, she was standing close enough that he was staring down into her eyes, the swell of her breasts visibly pressing against his chest. She tilted her head, chewing her lip in an expression of dangerously tempting innocence. "There's a reason you've called me here, master. I can fulfill your desires, if you'd let me..." Her fingers trailed up the inside of his thigh on one side and came up to cup his groin. She could feel his steadily-hardening length twitching in his pants and she purred, massaging the length eagerly. Her body pressed tighter against his and she pressed another warm kiss to that sensitive hollow of skin beneath his ear. "...Please?"
 
Ethan's heart seemed to skip several beats. Her kiss sent the most stunning shocks of pleasure through his spine. And that was just her kiss. Her hand against his rapidly hardening cock teased him like nothing he had experienced before, as if she was already summoning his soul out from his loins. Ethan's breathing quickened slightly, and he shut his eyes tight, turning his face away.

He wished this was all a dream, but everything about it felt real, and he knew full well what he had done. Something in the back of his mind urged him to take control, to take command of the situation. After all, he was the one who had summoned her, hadn't he? And that meant that he should always remain in control. She would always need to obey him.

He'd repeat the command again. Yes. That would be it.

"I... I don't need you. I want you to go back to wherever you came from." Then, he added, "I'm not giving up my life for one moment's worth of pleasure. How stupid do you think I am?" Ethan found strength in those words of his, and he opened his eyes and met the thing's eyes with courage... or at least he tried. Her eyes glowed like embers, and they threatened to enchant him. Yet Ethan constantly now reminded himself: it was give in and die, or banish her away, and live. He kept on repeating this in his mind now.

"Go! Get out!" He tired his best to recall the incantation that was required to send her back.

The book. He looked frantically around the room even as the succubus continued to touch him, if he could just find his book!
 
It was harder to disobey a direct command. He'd used a lot of "I want"s and "You might as well"s, which were not, strictly speaking, commands. Easier to avoid, easier to step around, easier to resist. But his barked order for her to get out was a little more frustrating.

Astarte stepped back, because she had to. Oddly enough, the actual wording of the command had sent her scuttling towards the door before she managed to regain some semblance of control over herself. Leaning sensuously against the doorframe, she watched Ethan scrambling for the book. One heel was set firmly on the floor, outside the room. It was enough to release the power of the command over her. If she'd truly wanted, she might have been able to resist well enough to avoid even that much, but it was a waste of effort, really. Not when a few steps would relieve that pressure entirely.

I'm not giving up my life for one moment's worth of pleasure. How stupid do you think I am?

She rolled the words around in her head for a moment, before a dark, rich laugh bubbled up and out of her. "Oh, master, no. Give up your life? That would be terribly foolish of me. If you die, I am banished. You are my connection to this world. My source of sustenance. To feed upon you to death would be such a terrible waste." Crossing the room towards him again, even as he reached for his book, she placed gentle hands upon his shoulders and began to rub her thumbs in small circles over spots of tension in his upper back. She pressed herself shamelessly against him, her breasts crushed into his back, her hips pressed against his ass. "You know how I can make you feel, don't you? Let me give you pleasure. Let me grant you release. You will not be harmed. We could have quite a symbiotic relationship, if you would allow it..."

The feeling of her breasts rubbing against him was alone enough to draw a lustful, sultry moan from her. "Please, I have such desires..." The promise in her words would have been enough to set off the imagination of any man alone, to say nothing of a man who had a creature of pure sex pressed against him as Ethan did.
 
Master...

If you die I am banished...


"I have desires..."

Ethan had been too busy looking for his book to even notice that the succubus had actually forcibly been moved away from him due his words. But now, as he felt her hands gripping him from his shoulders, releasing the tension that he didn't know he had until she was rubbing it out of him... as he felt her hips come up against him from behind, her breasts... and then... in that word, "desires"... all of it was too much. Now that she had made it clear as to what would happen if he died... Ethan's mind could barely bring up any more resistance to the intense desire mounting within him. A faint voice said she could be lying just to get him to go along with it, but then again, he knew that had to obey. The spirits did not have free reign.

"Oh God..." Ethan's breathing became heavy. His eyes closed. He instinctively rolled his head back and to the right, then to the left, as the spirit touched him, massaging his shoulder. Then, without thinking, he moved his right hand back to find her thigh there... her skin was so perfectly soft, delightful to just touch... Ethan's heart was racing, his breath staggering, "... Oh God..." he let out breathily.

With his eyes closed he could imagine her eyes... and then he realized: he didn't know her name.

"You call me Master. What do I call you?" Ethan was able to squeeze out those words between the thought of her naked body against him from behind. He could even feel the heat between her legs against his hips. And now, somewhere in the back of his mind, the thought occurred that if it was all a lie... and he was going to die... he just didn't care.
 
Ah. She could feel it. The control he had been so desperately trying to exert over his own lust - and by extention, her - began to slip. "Yes..." The words was soft, hissed, and came out almost before she could stop it. She could taste his desire in the air, thick and hot. Better than any summoner she could remember. Maybe it was because he was young, new to the occult. He bore a certain energy the others, in their old age and cynical use of her, did not. No, there was no sense at all in wasting such a man.

The lust rolling out of him seemed to coat her skin, making it tingle and demand to be touched. His hand on her thighs drew a sharp gasp, and she slipped around him so that she was standing in front of him with a smile that managed to somehow be both demure and wicked in the same instant. Those glowing eyes of hers met his gaze, and she licked her lips. "Some call me Astarte, master. You may call me whatever you wish. Of course, you may request that I call you anything else as well." That smile of hers grew, ever so slightly, and her hands came up to glide over his chest, popping open the buttons of his shirt. "If master does not suit your tastes."

Of course, most men, most summoner, adored the thought of a being like her calling him "master" as she did. She didn't have to, but it often resulted in greater lust for her to feed upon. Still, Ethan seemed... not innocent, exactly, but perhaps somewhat suppressed. Either denying his darker desires, or simply unaware of them. Perhaps - for now - "master" was a bit much. She would see what he said.

And as he pondered his response, her hands slipped into his shirt, and soft, warm fingers began to trace shapes over the expanse of his chest. She purred her pleasure at the feeling of skin on skin, and stepped towards him again. She closed the distance between them, crushing her naked chest to his as she began to press kisses and little bites about the skin of his neck. "You may tell me what you desire of me, master," she whispered. "Or, if you prefer, I can simply show you what pleasures I can offer..." Without even waiting for a response, she began to kiss her way down his chest and abdomen, sinking gracefully to her knees before him while she started to undo his pants. There was clear, pure hunger for him on her face as she worked, those ember eyes staring up at him as she worked.
 
"Astarte..." Ethan barely breathed out, his eyes closed. Something happened when he said her name. He felt something in his chest - like a serene lake he didn't know had ever been there had just been disrupted for the first time. It was deeply intimate but uncomfortable, and yet at the same time it made him feel like he had some kind of connection to this being, that he had never even had with a human before. Awash in sensual overdrive, this other feeling burrowed inside him, and the anxiety he had just overcome in the face of Astarte's advances welled up again enough to free him, momentarily from her ministrations.

Warily, he reached down and touched her cheek, and just as she was pulling his pants down, he pulled up gently, indicating that she should stand. He caught what he thought - through the surreal haziness that was his reality at that moment - was a glimpse of confusion on Astarte's face.

Ethan had been with two women over the years. Not because of any lack of interest on the opposite sex's part, but because it wasn't his nature to simply use and move on - though he was always goaded on by a few of more boisterous friends to make "better" use of his... popularity, attraction, his, well, everything. Katie. Hannah. Those were the two. And each he had been with for a few years. When he had made love, it was always coupled with emotional attachment. When they had gone down on him it had been an expression of love, not sheer sensuality. Now, with this creature's supernatural effect on his manly desires, it took just that moment of anxiety, brought on by whatever thing had happened inside him when he had said her name, that gave him just enough wherewithal to look her in the eyes, and say:

"Ethan. I want you to call me Ethan." Then, Ethan himself, ran his hand up the back of her neck, just the touch of her soft skin itself so electrifying, mind-numbing, brain-draining, and, running his fingers through the hair on the back of her head, pulled her in for a kiss. At first it was hard, a hard kiss on the lips, but then their lips parted, and Ethan's and Astarte's tongues snaked across each other. Ethan let his other hand trace down her hip and to her lower back, pulling her into him completely, holding her against him tightly, and instinctively grinding his bulge, separated only by his boxers now, against her hot mound.

Any sense of concern or anxiety or thought or feeling was definitively obliterated. Ethan dropped his hand to Astarte's ass and squeezed it hard, and stoop steps back, stumbling back towards his bed. Ethan could think of one thing and one things alone: He wanted to be inside her.

"Lie with me," he mumbled between kisses. "Lie with me now."
 
He said his name, and his lust felt different. At first, she didn't notice the source of it. It was easy to assume that the feeling was just more lust as a result of the connection to her name. The hunger that roared through her body meant that she wasn't paying attention to much of anything besides revealing his body to her. She wanted to have him in her mouth, to feel and hear his pleasure, to taste him...

The thought drew a short, gasping little moan of desire from her throat, just in the same moment as his fingers caught her cheek. Her gaze lifted back to his, and she stood, as he demanded with his touch, even as she wondered what he was doing. It was impossible to think that he didn't desire her. She was everything he could want - it was her nature to take his most ideal form. But the way he was looking at her... she didn't understand. He told her to call him Ethan, and she nodded. "Ethan..." It sounded like a plea for release coming out of her mouth. Like a prayer for pleasure. It always would. She had assumed that he had caught her attention to give her his name, and that she would be allowed to return to her ministrations. But even still, instead of letting her go, his fingers trailed over the back of her neck.

What was he doing? It wasn't as though she disliked the touch. There was a sensual intimacy to it that appealed. But it wasn't enough, and she had never, in her immortal existence, ever encountered a summoner who had done such a thing. She had never encountered a man who had stopped her from attempting to pleasure him in order to give her... was this affection?

The realization drew a smile to her face, and it was only confirmed when he responded with a kiss - heated as it was, it was still something one did with a lover, not a demon of sex. And confirmed again when he pulled her toward his bed, asking her to lay with him. There was something appealing about his apparent need to treat her with some semblance of kindness and respect. Like a human woman.

He fell backwards into the bed as he ran into it. She landed atop him, straddling him. "Lay with me," she repeated, a wickedly playful smile on her face. "I will do so much more than that..." She eased her lips over his, teasing his mouth open to dance with his tongue as she lifted her hips from his for just long enough to tug down his boxers. His length, already achingly hard, sprung to attention immediately. Without preamble or hesitation, she sunk down onto him, her pussy already soaked and hot, tight and molded perfectly to his cock. Her muscles clamped down around his length as she moaned into his mouth, finally, finally satisfied. Her blood felt like it was singing, overjoyed at the feeling of being filled after so long. "Ethan," she gasped, grinding her hips terribly, teasingly slowly. She parted from their kiss to look down at him with those ember eyes. It seemed, for a moment, like she wanted to say something. But instead, she dove into his neck, kissing and nipping eagerly as his throat as she started riding him, her lithe, athletic form moving with shocking ease and grace - or, perhaps less shocking when one considers that her body was designed for fucking. And more, designed specifically for fucking Ethan.

Everything about the way she moved, about the way she felt, the sounds she made and the gentle (or not-quite-so-gentle) touches of lips, tongue and fingers against his body could not have been more perfect. She fit atop him perfectly, fit into his arms perfectly, and it would have been difficult to imagine a woman who looked more perfect to him while riding him the way she was. The image alone would have been almost too much, to say nothing of the feeling or sound of her. Sitting up, her head tipped back, hair spilling down her back and over her shoulders, shifting as her breasts bounced each time she pushed herself back down atop him. The pace she set was relaxed, a little bit teasing, but just fast enough to avoid being frustrating.

"Ethan," she moaned again, looking down at him with an expression lost in pleasure. The moment she met his gaze again, she drew a sharp breath and her pussy squeezed tight around his length, buried inside her. "Touch me," she whispered, reaching down to grasp his wrists and bring his hands up to her body, guiding one to her hip and the other to her chest.
 
As Astarte slid down his length, Ethan vision seemed to burst into a kallidascope of color, he was suddenly utterly incapacitated by pleasure, waves and waves of pleasure that seemed to merge into one perpetual state of agonizing ecstasy. Ethan's eyes rolled up into this head, his eyelids flickering momentarily before he closed them completely, his hands falling limp at his side as she started riding him. This was not just sex. This was something else entirely. It was, literally, something other-worldly.

Every kind of touch between the two of them was perfect and intense. Even just the feel of her thighs against his as she rode him. Then she said, "Touch me," he felt a chill run through him, as if he had heard the high point of an orchestral masterpiece, stirring his soul to new heights. Her voice, her the touch of her skin, and no less the touch of her from the inside along his length, was like the worst and best kind of drug he could imagine. He wanted more.

So when she placed his hands on her - one on her hip, one on her chest - he loved it. It was exactly what he wanted. He opened his eyes to see her beautiful form. His hand on its own accord caressed and squeezed her perfectly formed breasts, his hand moved back and forth over her hip, which seemed perfectly formed for his hand. Everything about her - from her dark brown hair falling to her shoulders, to her skin, to those blazing eyes filled with desire for him - her voice - her everything excited Ethan physically and emotionally, somehow even spiritually... though he wasn't thinking about these things. He wasn't thinking anything. He was just being, experiencing and doing.

After a moment he wanted to feel more of her. He pulled his hand around her back and pulled her down to him. "I want to feel all of you all over me." He ran his hands up and down Astarte's back as their hips moved in tandem, his cock sliding back and forth in heaven itself, he squeezed her ass into him at one of his thrusts, grinding and burying himself within her. "Oh fuck... how can you be so perfect..." Ethan gasped.

Somewhere in the back of his mind Ethan wondered how it was he hadn't spilled his seed already. In such an intense situation, he imagined he wouldn't have been able to go this long - even though it wasn't long at all - but that was the point. Yet, there was something keeping him going, and he felt like he would go for some time. It made him even happier, because he wanted this to go on forever. In that moment, Ethan had the feeling, that if that was all he could do for the rest of his life - lie buried like this inside Astarte - he would be ecstatic to do so.

Ethan kissed Astarte along her neck, up her jaw and on her lips again, he then held her face in his hands and pulled her in for a harder kiss, while at the same time driving himself and keeping himself pushed in all the way, deeply, into Astarte.

"You're so perfect... fuck you're so perfect... don't stop... don't ever leave me... don't stop..." Ethan mumbled against her lips as he snaked one hand behind her head, holding her there.
 
The feeling of him pulling her down atop him drew a short, breathless laugh, only to have the sound cut off just as abruptly. She tilted her head, letting him kiss and lick at her neck and, for a moment, she feeling of his skin on so much of hers, soaked in lust as he was, was nearly enough to make her lose her train of thought.

For a creature of such pure sexuality, that was a shock. How was it that any man was capable of making her lose herself to pleasure like that? Even for a moment? Especially one for whom sexual conquest was not a priority? Maybe she was hungrier than she thought. But no, because the laughter was as much of a surprise as her own overwhelming pleasure. Not only did she feel absolutely, unimaginably incredible, but she was enjoying herself. For more than just the promise of a feeding. Laughter was not precisely foreign to her, but neither was it a common occurrence. Sex was intense, hungry, and always pleasurable, but it was rarely fun. And yet, here she was, a bubble of giggles threatening to rise up her throat, simply because he'd caught her off-guard by pulling her down to him like that. But that was it, wasn't it? How had he caught her off-guard like that? She had an intuitive sense of his sexual desires... but, perhaps, not of his desire for affection or intimacy. There was lust tied up in his need to feel her skin, without a doubt, but it was harder for her to pick up when it was tied up in a desire for other things.

So, for the first time in memory, a summoner had surprised her during sex. She liked it.

Astarte let a slow, curling smile turn the corners of her soft lip upward in the moment before his mouth left her neck to seek hers. She wasn't certain if he realized what he was saying. Don't ever leave me. "Your wish is my command," she purred, nipping at his bottom lip once before the motions of her hips began to take on a different sense - where once she was lazy, simply enjoying the feeling of his cock inside her, they were growing steadily more hungry, slapping her hips harder against his, drawing a groan from deep in her chest each time as if she wanted even more, despite the fact that he was filling her to the delicious brink.
 
Ethan heard Astarte's response, "Your wish is my command..." and some distant alarm bells went off in the back of his head, but they quickly faded out as he lost himself in the experience of being with her. "Astarte..." he breathed, he felt a yearning for her that was unnatural - he had just barely met her, and here they were on his bed, having sex, and yet he found in himself a desire for her that seemed to be more - and that was saying a lot considering that his desire for her just on a sensual level was tremendous. But for Ethan, it felt like his attachment to her was with his entire being, and sudden, and it felt right and wrong at the same time.

"Uhhnnh... I'm gonna..." He clenched Astarte's back tightly, pulling her into him, and he gave several hard, hard thrusts within Astarte, as if preparing for his release, then he moved one hand down to her ass and squeezed, pulling her into him as he gave one final deep thrust and burst forth within her. He grunted with each breath as he felt himself gush his hot seed deep inside her, and he gushed, and gushed, and gushed, and as he did, he felt heat rise to his chest, stars fill his sights, and in that moment it was as if he had transformed into one single nerve of pleasure, pulsing and screaming with intensity. "ASTARTE! Ohhhhh..... shit.... ohhh, shit... oh my god... ohhhhh fuck..." He felt like he had been coming inside her for a long, long time, and it felt as if his pussy was milking him drier than he'd ever been before.

He held Astarte close to him, kept her close to him as hard as he could, kissing her again and again in the little space where her neck met her ear. "Astarte..." he didn't know what to say, other than to utter her name. But what was even more, was that after an orgasm there was usually some kind of release. And physically, there was. But Ethan felt like he needed her even more now that he had cum inside her. And so he held her tightly, strongly, in his arms, as if she would vanish or dissolve into a purple cloud and disappear from his life.

"Astarte, don't ever go. Stay here." He said it again.
 
He came. Her whole back arched and she gave a ragged, pleasured cry as her own orgasm rushed over her in response to the pure energy that pulse into her body as his seed pulsed into her body. Her pussy clenched and massaged his length, milking him with an orgasm of incredible length and strength, drawing every last drop of his cum - and the sexual energy that came with it. "Ethan...!" Arms slipped around her torso and she held tight as her hips ground greedily against his, seeking out even more friction, even more pleasure as her orgasm raked over her nerves.

Her whole body jerked as the last waves of her climax crashed through her, and she collapsed onto him even as he pulled her close. She hummed at the sound of her name, not quite able to form words after the power of that orgasm. Her whole body was trembling slightly, shocked by the abrupt shift from a hunger near starvation to being full to the brim of sexual energy.

His request drew a smile, and she lifted her head, her gaze hooded and smoldering, and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "Relax. I'm not going anywhere," she assured him, her voice rough and thick with the pleasure of her afterglow. She didn't didn't have anywhere to go, either, but she didn't say that. What was she going to do, go out into the world on her own? She had nothing. And her other option was to return to the Nether. But the honest truth was, she liked Ethan. In bed, anyway, and he seemed interested in treating her well, which was more than she could say for most of her masters in the past. She had no reason to leave.

Or so she told herself. The strange pull she felt toward him was nothing important. Not at all.
 
Ethan lay there with Astarte upon him, his cock still buried inside her, exactly where he wanted it.

He kept running his fingers through her hair, and then he would stop that and start tracing lines down her back, over her ass to her thigh, and then back up. Then he looked at her in her glowing eyes and kissed her again. It was a long kiss, but softer than when they had been in the midst of their sex.

The pleasure was slowly draining from Ethan's body, allowing his mind to clear. The fact that he hadn't experienced some kind of soul-wrenching phenomenon or that he didn't find himself outright dead provided him with enough relief to be able to ask other questions. But no matter what questions came to his mind, they all seemed to be within the context of his feeling the need to keep Astarte by his side. He had felt similarly, when he had sex with his girlfriends of his past. His intimacy with them increased him in his desire for them. But that happened over time, not the minute they were finished. With Astarte it was even more of a contrast because... well, he had just met her.

It started to dawn on him that his cock was buried inside a creature that he had just summoned from another world. He felt like he should be afraid, but he wasn't. He felt comfortable. And so this was what he asked Astarte:

"So, the fact that I'm not terrified that I'm lying inside a creature from another world, is that something you're doing to me? Is that some kind of spell?" Ethan started to feel, perhaps now as his mind continued to clear, that his persistent desire to have her by his side may well be the result of some kind of spell that she cast upon him. He felt so ignorant all of sudden, almost helpless.

He pulled himself out of Astarte, and gently pushed her from her hip off him to his side. He started up at the ceiling for a moment before looking at her again, his brow furrowed, and he shook his head. "I'm asking because I feel like I want you, but it seems to be more than just the sex. And how could that be when you're a... whatever you are, from wherever you came from... and you just popped into my room and we did this... how could I want you like that without you doing something to me?" Ethan started to feel upset, first at himself for spending the last six months of his life dabbling with something that he shouldn't have been, and only secondarily with Astarte, who must have been exerting her power over him. It was to such an extent that the very thought of his figuring out how to "send her back" made his heart flutter with anxiety. Anxiety that she wouldn't be there.

Ethan crossed his arms and looked away from Astarte, staring up at the ceiling, not knowing what to think.
 
Astarte was perfectly content to lie atop Ethan while he worked through his thoughts - the feeling of his hands running up and down her back the way they were was an unusual affection for her, but she found she enjoyed it. Much the same way she found she enjoyed the feeling of his softening cock still buried inside her - normally, she cared little for having a man inside her unless it was to feed. This felt... nice. Intimate. It was a strange feeling, but she found she appreciated it. She liked feeling close to him, as perhaps something other than a source of sustenance.

What an odd thought.

And then he was pushing her off of him. She rolled easily onto the bed on her side, stretching languidly and, of course, sensually. It seemed she could do nothing without even inadvertently injecting sex into every action she took. She watched him, a relaxed, playful smile curling her lips even as he questioned her. "Done something to you?" she repeated, raking her fingers through her hair with amusement dancing in her eyes. "I have formed myself to be perfect for you. I am your every sexual desire made flesh. And yet it surprises you that you desire me?" She paused, watching his reaction to her gentle teasing, and only then realized that she had missed something. He'd said it, but it hadn't really registered in her mind, because the very concept was absurd. "I... Wait. More than just sex? What do you mean?" The idea seemed completely ridiculous to her. How - and why - could anyone possible want her for anything beyond just sex? "Of course not. What could I possibly gain by giving you desires for other things? Desires I do not know for certain I could fulfill. I can make your every sexual fantasy come true. I don't usually need more than that to convince my summoner to allow me to stay, at least a while."

Her brow furrow and her nose wrinkled with thought, and she pushed herself up onto her elbows to look down at him. "What more is it you feel you want me for?" From her tone, the very idea of being desired in any other manner made her uncomfortable. So either she was telling the truth about not having cast any sort of spell upon him to cause this, or she was far more insidious and manipulative than she seemed.
 
Astarte's tone seemed convincing to Ethan, though he kept some reservation. From everything that he had read when he was under whatever kind of trance he was under all those months, the succubi truly did not desire anything other than sex. This was simply because they lived off of it. They needed it for their very existence. This was not just a matter of a woman crazed with lust. This was a matter of a creature from the spirit world, or whatever it was called, that - he supposed - was some kind of female, that took a form in the shape summoner's perfect desire.

It was not strong, but it was definitely there, the flustered tone in her voice. But Ethan could simply not offer any answer other than to repeat what he had said.

"Look, I know it doesn't make sense. For a human like me, to have something like you, that takes the shape of a woman that's just so unbelievably perfect in every physical way, I get that. But, all I can tell you is that I feel like I want more. More as in... something deeper, not just physical. What the hell, why am I even having this conversation? I'm not..." Ethan found himself becoming frustrated, and now shocked, that he had done this, and that he was even seriously talking to the thing. Ethan got slid away from Astarte and got off the bed, grabbing his pants and starting to get them back on.

"Look. I'm sorry. This was a mistake. I don't even know what came over me. I was just - I'm just a normal guy, I'm supposed to go to medical school in a month, and I have nothing to do with all this. I'm sorry. I'm going to find that damn book. It was really nice. I really liked you... you're just..."

Ethan found himself staring at Astarte lying in his bed. Then he shook his head. "No. I can't do this. God knows what you'll do to me anyway. I'm a human. You're a... whatever. You need to go back."

Ethan turned his back to Astarte and clenched his eyes shut tight. Even as he had said the words, he felt horrible. Like he was breaking up with a woman he'd been with for years. "That's ridiculous," he mumbled.
 
Astarte couldn't quite help the amusement that crept back onto her face when he started attempting - and failing - to explain what he was feeling. Honestly, did it matter? As long as they continued to have sex, she didn't care. Whatever it was he felt for her, whatever it was he desired... she would do her best to provide it because he was a powerful source of sustenance and she could enjoy life in the material world for a while if she did.

Ethan stood and started putting on his pants, earning a pout from the not-quite-woman in his bed. That was just another layer between her and what she wanted, whenever he next gave in to her seduction. Or so she thought, until he started talking about sending her back.

"No!" She sat up, moving to the edge of the bed to seize his hand. "Don't. Please." Her tone was honest - nothing underneath suggesting some kind of manipulation or attempt to seduce him into bed with her. She took a breath, lowering her gaze. Why not be honest with him? He struck her as the sort of human who would appreciate that. "The place I come from, the Nether. It's... dark. And cold. And the things that live there no nothing but hunger. I have no shape or identity. It is an existence of eternal desire that cannot be fulfilled. Not until someone calls me out." She took a breath. "I can't stop you. If you want to send me back, I must accept that. You are my summoner and my master while I have this form." Her hand in his squeezed, and she looked up at him again, meeting his gaze finally. "So I must ask: please, don't send me away. Not yet."

It had been a long time since she'd had felt anything strongly enough to even recognize it over her constant lust. Perhaps it was because she had just taken her fill of him, and her roaring lust had subsided into a burning ember. Or perhaps it was him, and he was having some strange effect on her the way she apparently had on him. But she felt shame for asking the way she did. It seemed petty and weak to have to beg for her existence like that, but the fact of her nature was that he had, in the end, complete control. What he commanded, she did. And if he banished her, she couldn't even fight.
 
Ethan was caught off guard. He could detect no evidence of any kind of sexual advance. It seemed he had hit a nerve. He looked down at Astarte's hand holding his. Then looked back up at her. The existence she had described sounded horrendous. And while he had always assumed that the creatures that lived in the Netherworld were superior, stronger and preyed on humans, it seemed that he was mistaken. To be left in some kind of immaterial state, longing for something that one couldn't even have unless - without any self-volition - someone else randomly pulled you into some other dimension of existence...? Ethan snorted and shook his head, almost laughing at himself.

"I can't believe this," muttered, letting his hand out of Astarte's grip. "I can't believe I'm even thinking like this." He paced over to one side of the room, running his hand through his hair. Then he about-faced and looked at Astarte. "So. Let me ask you something. What happens if I keep you here forever? I know what happens if I send you back. So what happens if I keep you? Force you to stay?" Ethan paused for a moment. Somehow in the last few moments Astarte had become more human to him. "How long have you stayed here, on Earth?" The question seemed so odd to him, and its echo in his mind fed the perpetual reminder of the strange and concerning situation he found himself in.
 
Feeling finally certain that he wasn't going to send her back - at least not immediately - she pulled her legs up underneath her, getting comfortable on the bed. It might have been strange for a woman to appear to utterly at ease in the nude in front of a man she'd just met, but it only served as a reminder that she wasn't actually human.

"Forever?" she repeated, rolling the word off of her tongue as if tasting it, as if she'd never considered it before. And indeed, she hadn't. "I don't know." Long fingers raked her mane of chocolate brown hair out of her eyes. "I've never stayed that long. Most keep me for a day or two, have their fill and satisfy their carnal desires, and then send me back. It doesn't matter. Once you have drawn from the Nether once, it is easy to do so again. You cannot control which particular being you pull into this world, but so long as they receive any succubus, they don't care." She suspected, somehow, that Ethan would. She didn't want him thinking that he could send her back and call on her again - he would undoubtedly end up with one of her sisters instead. "The longest I can recall was... a few months, perhaps? It was centuries ago. Timekeeping was imperfect, and I was not allowed to leave the summoning chamber in any case, so I lost track of the days." To a human, such treatment would be horrifying. Astarte seemed accustomed to it, however, suggesting that that was the treatment she had come to expect from summoners. It painted a clear picture of just how unusual Ethan was.
 
A couple of centuries ago?

A month?

Not allowed to leave the summoning chamber?

Ethan blinked a few times as stared at the naked woman on his bed. All of a sudden it occurred to him that she was, well, naked. A flush or red filled his cheeks.

"Uh... I'm sorry." Ethan looked over to his chair where he had a button down shirt. He took it and, watching Astarte carefully, as if she were a creature in a cage, walked towards her slowly, and then sat down, placing the open shirt around her shoulders. "You can cover yourself with that..." Ethan stared at the ground before him.

"You said centuries. How old are you? And..." Ethan started imagining the horrendously bleak thing that must have been Astarte's existence. Was it not ultimately some kind of prison for her to live in some unfulfilling world only to be called out upon some stranger's whim, only to be used and sent back? Sure she fed off it - but some how that made it worse, not better. "...did you ever - or do any of your kind - ever think that maybe there's something more to existence than just... feeding?"

Even as Ethan asked the question he felt a hollow in his chest. The thought of sending her back into that other existence seemed wrong to him. Now it seemed to hold a moral weight for him, even if it didn't for her. It didn't seem to bother her. But shouldn't she want more? It wouldn't do. If Ethan sent her back and then summoned someone else, he'd never see her again? What sort of sordid arrangement was this?
 
That slight wrinkle to her nose returned - it was kind of a cute expression, if one divorced it from the dark turn of the conversation - indicating confusion. She didn't know why he was apologizing, nor did she fully understand why he was covering her. And with his clothing. He draped the shirt over her shoulders and she was halfway through the motion of shrugging out of it before it occurred to her that her nudity made him uncomfortable. The thought drew a smile as she pieced together what this was. He was trying to play gentleman to her lady. How odd. But again, there was something... strangely appealing about the whole process. About being treated like a person instead of a walking hole to be used for sex.

"More than just feeding? Yes." She turned so that she was facing him, pushing her arms into the shirt, even as she left the buttons open, leaving all of her most intimate anatomy plainly visible to him. "Of course. We can see your kind, you know. Like ghosts, moving through your world as if it were a layer atop the Nether. We watch you. We know what your lives are, what you're like. How you live. We could hope for that, but why? The only pleasure we have any hope of finding is in feeding. Isn't it false hope if there's no means of attaining it? It would be foolish to hope for anything else, don't you think?"
 
Ethan listened carefully. Though at the same time he couldn't help but catch himself looking at Astarte's naked body. So he reached out and began to button her up, one by one. "I guess that makes sense. But did none of you ever try to, I dunno, seduce your summoner to stay with them? Maybe seduce is the wrong word... convince?"

Ethan sat back and looked at the woman sitting before him. She was, of course, utterly beautiful. Astarte had designed herself as such. But other than her form, how much of her was actually woman?

"For example. You say you've been watching us - humanity. So you know that even among us, women and men compete for each other's love and affection. They're looking to find the right man or woman to spend the rest of their life with. There's always a risk that it won't happen, or that something will start and then break up, but that doesn't stop us from trying." Suddenly it occurred to Ethan that he was advising this other worldly spirit to try and convince him to keep her for the rest of his life. He blushed slightly.

"Uhm, I mean, I'm not - I don't mean - It's just... to be honest, I feel bad when I hear what your life is like. I can't imagine that there isn't a better way..."

He looked up at Astarte. God... she was so perfect. And for some reason the fact that the idea of even having a real relationship was foreign to her somehow endeared her to him even more. Slowly, an idea began to form in Ethan's mind.
 
She let him button up her shirt, that indulgent little smile of hers still gracing her features as she listened to him speak. He finished around the same moment he had phrased his question properly, and she found herself leaning forward, as if she craved his touch so completely that she would chase his retreating hands just for a chance at one more brush of his fingertips against her collarbone. It left her very close to him, her face mere inches from his. "Of course I have," she answered. "How else do you imagine I remained so long the time I stayed for months? There was bargaining. A great deal of it." She closed the distance between them on a whim, easing her lips over his in a soft, quick kiss and, when she withdrew, she wore a genuine smile. "You are the first summoner who appears to have forgotten that I am not human. Or maybe it's that you would like me to be. I don't know. I would be lying if I said I didn't like it."

"Yes, I've seen these grand loves that your kind so favor. I can see why the rest of you risk so much in the pursuit. But there is a difference between hoping for the unlikely and hoping for the outright impossible," she answered, offering a quick roll of her shoulders in a shrug. The blush drew a small laugh from her, a sound which she choked off with surprise all over again. He really was different from those who had summoned her before. "What sort of better way you would see me pursue, then?"
 
Ethan made sure to try and keep his focus as best he could as Astarte came closer to him. He took a deep, ragged breath in and then sighed it out, and stood up, stepping back from the bed. He needed to have a clear mind, because that same mind, was suggesting something that seemed outright ridiculous.

But he found himself looking at Astarte and amidst what he now found was a returning desire to have her, he was still feeling that deep sorrow that someone could enter his life like this, and then just vanish and he never see them again? And that she would be forever resigned to hopping from one man to another, a life of nothing but sex, again, and again and again? All jokes aside, that was not a life worth living and Ethan knew it.

"Okay. This is what I think we should do." Ethan took a deep breath again. "The way I'm thinking about it is - what if we had just met some place. Let's just pretend for a moment that you were a human." It still struck him as odd to say it. It probably always would. "And we met some place. At school. At work. Walking the dog. Whatever. And we hit it off and you came back to my place and we had sex. Fine. Now, just the day before, I wouldn't have known you, but then, after the fact, we would have a choice. We could decide to call it quits. Say to each other that it was a nice fling and just get on with it. As for me, personally, that's not who I am. Or, we could say, 'Hey, let's get to know each other properly. Let's hang out. And let's just see where things go.'" Ethan felt better already.

"I think that's what we should do. Let's get to know each other. As long as I don't send you back, there's no way you can go back, right? We'll agree - or, I'll promise - to only send you back if the two of us are in agreement that we want to call it off and never see each other again. That's how a relationship should be. Two way. Not one way slavery like you've been living."

Ethan smiled. He liked the sound of that plan. "What do you think?"
 
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