Edward Lee - Succubi

That was certain. The more she wanted to flee from this perverse masquerade, the more she knew she couldn’t.

It’s a dream, she assured herself. Just a dream.

“Hands and knees,” Milly ordered.

“Milly, please. Don’t—”

Milly slapped her face. “Just do it.”

Milk dripped off Ann’s nipples. She shut her eyes, humiliated. Milly knelt right up behind her and inserted the rubberized phallus into Ann’s sex.

She nearly yelped. The thing was huge, it bulged her. She almost fainted when she felt how deeply the prosthetic probed her. Her mind seemed like a jigsaw, throwing pieces. Part of her thought, Thank God Dad’s unconscious, thank God he can’t see this, while another part continued to reassure, Don’t worry, it’s just a dream. It’s not real.

She gritted her teeth as the thing slid hugely in and out. Each thrust nudged the bulb of her cervix. “You like it, right?” Milly asked.

“Please, Milly, I—”

She slapped Ann’s right buttock hard as she could, like wet leather snapping. “Right?” she demanded.

“Yes, yes,” Ann replied. The slap print buzzed on her rump. But a forbidden inkling drifted up. Part of her did like it.

“Close your eyes and look,” Milly ordered next.

Ann didn’t understand. “Wha—”

Milly grabbed the back of her hair, pushed Ann’s face into the carpet.

“Look!”

Ann squeezed shut her eyes. Most of her mouth was pressed to the floor.

“Do you see?”

“See what?” Ann muffled.

“Her! Do you see her!”

Ann didn’t see anything but her own disgrace. Her hands and knees felt bolted to the floor.

“What have we here?” a voice asked from above. Maedeen walked in. She began taking off her clothes. “You’re breaking her in well, sweoster. Mind if I join in?”

Milly chuckled, pumping steadily. Maedeen sat down right in front of Ann, spreading her legs. She too had one of the little pale pendants about her neck. It looked shapeless, a little stone. She pulled Ann’s face to her crotch. “Eat it, yeah, that’s right.” Ann felt helpless; she lapped frantically at the musky flesh. She was crying, gasping for breath. “I fucked your precious Martin the other night,” Maedeen remarked. “Five or six times. I’ll fuck him anytime I want. He’s a good little peow. I’m already pregnant.”

“Oh, Maedeen,” Milly congratulated, grasping Ann’s hips. “That’s wonderful.”

“And you know what he’s doing now? Your precious Martin?” Milly laughed along with Maedeen. “He’s watching your daughter take a shower through a hole in the wall. He’s jerking off. But don’t worry, he wouldn’t dare touch her, he knows never to do that.”

“Melanie’s quite a beautiful girl, Ann,” Milly added. “And she’s a virgin.”

“She’s just what we need for the doefolmon.”

Ann could make nothing of this madness. She brought her face up long enough to plead, “Why are you doing this to me?”

“We’re initiating you,” Milly said, thrusting deeper.

Maedeen fingered the pendant between her smallish, big-nippled breasts. “We’re making you holy. For the doefolmon.”

“Ready, Annie?” Milly asked. She pulled Ann’s hips back, to effect maximum penetration. Ann squirmed; she felt skewered. “Come in her now,” Maedeen said, and pushed Ann’s face back down, and Milly was squeezing the rubber ball again, pumping. Ann felt the warm spurts of milk launch into her sex. She whined in anguish.

The tiniest sigh of relief escaped her throat when Milly withdrew and began to take off the phallus. Thank God it’s over… But then Maedeen said, “Now let’s get her off.”

Ann was flipped over on her back. She hissed through her teeth when two metal clips were quickly applied to her nipples; her back arched at the bitelike pain. Then Milly straddled her face and simultaneously gave the clips a twist. “Stick your tongue all the way in,” she ordered. The pain at Ann’s nipples soon began to radiate into something sharply pleasurable; her sex began to drench. Just as she wondered how Maedeen would participate, four fingers wriggling in her vagina answered the question. Then the shock of thought exploded— No! —when she realized what exactly was being done.

“I’ll bet the little prude’s never been fisted before,” Milly said.

“Probably right. She’s real tight.”

Ann’s bare heels thumped the floor as Maedeen slipped her whole hand in, and she gagged when the hand pulled into a fist within the confines of her vaginal vault. Maedeen cooed as she pushed her hand deeper, and when she was in several inches past the wrist, she began to pull back and forth, all the while the fist gently revolving. The violation appalled Ann…but she came explosively, her disgust tremoring with the orgasm.

“Feel good?” Milly unstraddled Ann’s face, and when Maedeen withdrew her hand, Ann’s entire body flinched. Suddenly, a groan sounded from above. In panic, Ann looked up. Her father, conscious now, was leaning out of the convalescent bed, his jaundiced eyes huge on the scene below. Ann shrieked. Her father’s face looked like a bad wax mask. His withered finger shook, pointing down at her.

“That’s right, peow,” Milly said. “We’re fucking your daughter…”

Ann’s father was shaking, murmuring in bursts. Eventually, his twisted mouth formed words. “Guo the wifhands,” he croaked. An IV line tore from his arm. “Guo the Fulluht-Loc…”

“Listen to him.” Maedeen chuckled. “He can’t even talk right anymore, the stupid helot.”

“Uor mut go!”

Ann tried to get up, to go to him, but she couldn’t move.

“He didn’t really have a stroke, Ann,” Maedeen said, licking her fingers. “Dr. Heyd gave him something to fuck up his brain.”

“Doefolmon!” the old man shouted as best he could. “Uor mut—”

Maedeen and Milly got up. Ann pleaded, “Help him!”

“Oh, we’ll help him, all right,” Milly assured. She was standing by the night table now. Maedeen leaned over the bed.

“Es unwi! Es dwola!”

“Shut up, you old fuck,” Maedeen said. “Or we might decide to kill you right now.”

“I don’t know why we don’t,” Milly commented. She was preparing an injection. Ann screamed at her but still couldn’t budge against whatever power kept her on the floor.

“The wifmunuc wants him alive for a while longer,” Maedeen said. “To keep Ann here.”

What were they talking about? What were they doing?

“Huro liloc!” Ann’s father grated. “Huro succubi!”

Maedeen climbed on the bed. Her pendant swayed as she squatted over the old man’s face. “Peow, thane,” she said. She began to urinate. “Wîhan,” she said, glaring down.

“What are you doing!” Ann wailed. “He’s a sick old man!”

“He’s a peow,” Milly corrected. “And we piss on peows.”

Now the old man was gagging, coughing urine as Maedeen pissed in his mouth. “That should quiet him down a little.”

Milly jammed a needle into his arm. “Dother to Dother,” he gurgled. Then he fell limp in the sheets.

Ann continued to scream at them, but they only laughed at her outrage. Now Milly was refilling the phallus with milk. “My turn,” Maedeen said. The two naked women exchanged grins. Then Maedeen strapped on the device.

Ann looked up in horror. “Wha—what are you going to do?”

Milly laughed. Maedeen was smearing Vaseline over the shining, veined phallus.

“Guess,” she answered.

«« — »»

Ann awoke screaming. She jerked up in the dark, glanced frantically about, then screamed once more. Martin was not in bed with her. Her sex felt sore. Pinkish moonlight eddied through the gap in the curtains. Her nightgown billowed as she flew out of the room and down the hall. Her father lay unconscious in the bed, the heart monitor beeping steadily. Milly was not here. Ann leaned over her father’s sunken face. The face was dry, the pillow clean. Then she scampered to the other end of the house. Her mother’s room was empty, the bed unslept in. Nor did she find Melanie in her own room. Confusion infuriated her. She checked the house top to bottom.