Milf Succubus Corrupts Her Baby-Boy

The cobbled streets of Hyraa knew the steps of adventures, mercenaries, explorers, and many more. When the 'Hallow Dungeons' were unsealed folk of every race and expertise began to pour into the country. Hyraa became the central nexus for these people. After decades of obscurity it had finally defined itself as a hub of activity on the Adventure's Map. 'Country of Old, City of New' was the common phrase. Guilds, a great arena, and high streets filled with exotic treasures and trinkets drew warriors, magicians, and healers to the city.

Miss Era Bloom was not one of those people. In a world filled with monsters and heroes she had created a small slice of peace and tranquillity for herself.

As the summer sun cast its morning amber glow on the streets Miss Bloom was opening the doors to her bakery. There was a gentle breeze this morning through the high street -- perfect to carry the smell of fresh dough and golden-crust bread through the air. Miss Bloom knew just where to place her freshest buns to draw in the morning crowd.

Warriors needed blacksmiths, magicians needed libraries, healers needed a church, but all of them needed food. And what was more appealing than a hearty loaf of bread? Easy to pack into a dungeon-bag, versatile with different spreads and stuffings, but able to last those longer journeys into dungeons deep.

Many adventurers appreciated a quality loaf from 'Bloom's Bakery', but most of them returned for Miss Bloom herself. The woman was something of an oddity in the city. Others changed with the inflow of coin, but Miss Bloom remained humble and rustic. She emitted a soft beauty that could calm a fierce dragon-kin and her prices were so reasonable no one bothered to haggle. 'Haggle? Over a loaf of bread for five silver? Is your head in the clouds?'

Newcomers thought Miss Bloom was almost simple. She spoke slow and sweet. If she didn't understand what someone was saying she would gently laugh, smile, and all problems seemed to melt away. However, simple did not mean stupid. She was sharper than most of the weapons that entered her bakery. Troublesome customers were so rare because she was able to deflect anger and ire before it even arrived.

One thing she was completely ignorant to was the effect her body had on customers. Her long flowing green skirt and white apron hid most of her skin, but her curves couldn't be concealed. She was taller than average for a human. Many suspected she was of elven heritage due to her slightly sharpened ear and how gracefully she aged into her fifties. In contrast, her hips were very un-elf like. Wide birthing-sized hips met her deliciously thick thighs below. A soft leather corset held her waist thin -- only exaggerating her hour-glass body even more. Magicians often looked at the poor strings holding the corset together and thought: 'What manner of enchantment keeps those strings from snapping?'

A matronly pair of full breasts were held by her apron. Small puffs of flour often sneaked into her deep cleavage. Two black cups attached to the corset held them them upright -- presenting her proud bosom to all. Ash-white hair flowed down her back -- braided -- and reaching to the small of her back. Her bangs were split in half revealing gentle eyebrows and soft hazel eyes.

Making an order at the 'Bloom Bakery' was a test of willpower. Through the glass customers would point at their request only to look past the fresh buns and see a different pair of buns.

Even more alluring to certain customers was Miss Bloom's marital status. It was right there for all to hear: 'Miss' Bloom. Innuendos missed their mark: she would simply smile and say something like: 'The hedgehog bread is still warm today.' Anyone who tried to take it further than flirting was promptly removed from the establishment. Miss Bloom was on very good terms with the local guard -- mostly thanks to the butter-buns she gave them on their lunch breaks. She also made sure to personally thank guards with a peck on his cheek for removing troublemakers. Some adventures joked: 'These guards would die for Miss Bloom before they died for the King.'

"Miss Bloom, there's a problem. We have run out of the honey-bun glaze and the tumble-seeds are running low."

Miss Bloom trusted only one person with her recipes: Pipit Aaron. A young man in his mid-twenties. His below average-height -- thanks to a dwarf grandmother -- placed his face perfectly on the same level with Miss Bloom's breasts. He was often checking the floors were clean. When looking up from the floor he always made sure to glance swiftly over her breasts. She was such a sweet woman and he didn't want her to think he was a pervert.

"That's alright, Mr Aaron. Change the tumble-seed loaves to squirrel buns. You can use sugar-syrup to replace the glaze."

Miss Bloom looked softly at her young protege. He was still nervous under pressure, but he was willing and listened. That was all Miss Bloom asked from him. He looked adorable with his little head-wrap and uniform that matched hers. Newcomers often mistook him for her son. She was always happy to declare: 'Oh no! This is Mr Aaron. He started working here three months ago, but I'm already so proud. I'd be happy to have a son like him.'

Mr Aaron -- as Miss Bloom always called him during work hours -- was living above the bakery in Miss Bloom's residence. When he had applied for an apprenticeship in the city he had imagined cooking for a group of adventures. He nearly cancelled when he was assigned to a high-street bakery. But when he saw Miss Bloom he accepted his role as junior-baker instantly.

He had expected a cosy, slow life above the bakery. He even dared imagine a lewd romance would emerge between himself and Miss Bloom. How little he knew back then. On the first day, he was up at the crack of dawn mixing bread flour and milk, rolling butter, and running across the city to market after market. He was nearly dead after the second week, but knowing Miss Bloom's lap was waiting for him pushed him forward. He genuinely did like baking. 'But what good is a cake without icing? And if baking all day is my cake then Miss Bloom is my icing.'

>

"Not a single drop of tingle-honey? I've asked ten different stalls."

"I'm so sorry, Miss Bloom. After the Queen Bee was dealt with the bees have been in hiding."

Miss Bloom sighed. Any other day tingle-honey could be replaced with sugar-syrup, but today she desperately needed it. A custom order from the royal family -- ten trays of her speciality. And the key ingredient? No where to be found.

Placing a request with the guilds would take too long. They would rotate the quests at dawn, but that was already too late. Miss Bloom didn't dare trust an alchemist -- not after the bee-stung lips incident.

No. There was only one option. She would have to delve into a dungeon herself. She was no stranger to the higher levels, but things had changed with time. Who knew what was waiting for her down there. She didn't dare ask Pipit to help her -- the boy was exhausted from the lunch-rush. The sun was beginning to set when she returned to the bakery, no Tingle-Honey in her basket.

There was one saving grace: she knew where to find the honey. She was no adventurer, but she had grown up in these lands. She knew groves, passages, and ruins untouched even by the new wave of explorers. She vividly recalled seeing a hive as a teenager. Tonight she would venture into a lost dungeon, retrieve her sweet treasure, and be in bed by midnight.

Miss Bloom patted Pipit's head as he slept on her coach. She was so confident that nothing would happen she didn't leave a note. Dressed in a black overcloak, old boots, and a journeyman's leather gear set -- she vanished into the night.

>

A stone tile -- push and twist -- and the dungeon is open. Dust fell down in thick layers. 'I must be the first visitor in centuries.' The forest was pitch black. Dark clouds blocked any moonlight. Miss Bloom took a deep breathe and strut into the dungeon.

Thanks to her tall stature and wide figure Miss Bloom's silhouette was quite intimidating. Low level creatures remained still as the cloaked woman passed by. The soft glowing lantern she carried, filled with fire-flies, lit the way.

Miss Bloom had first been drawn here by the beautiful writing on the walls. She never learned what language it was. The curves and elongated lines were carved deep into the grey stone. If she had been able to read it she would have turned around and left. Disappointing a royal family was better than the things written on these walls.

Instead, Miss Bloom continued onward in a state of nostalgic glee. Left -- Left -- Right -- Down the stairs -- Across the pond -- When a flailing fish jumped clear out of the water. The blue thing's mouth was open wide and gasping. Miss Bloom turned to meet the fish and it latched directly onto her left breast. She felt its lips clamp down into a vacuum-seal. It was more uncomfortable than painful, but still a shock. Miss Bloom nearly fell from the bridge into the waters, but recovered. The fish on her breast was slapping its body-tail from side to side. Miss Bloom raised her lantern to look at the water. A dozen of the bastards were swimming in circles like piranhas.

"Nasty parasite of a fish. Where are the town guards when I need them?"

Miss Bloom dared not think what would have happened if she fell in. Or if the fish had latched onto her head instead of her breast. The fish was sucking hard, but nothing would come from Miss Bloom's tit. It slowly began to suffocate then released itself. Miss Bloom didn't have the heart to kill the thing, but threw it harshly into the water. 'Onward!'

Across the pond -- Right -- Squeeze through the gap -- "Curse my hips" Miss Bloom said as they brushed against the narrow walls -- 'and here we are!' Nature dominated the small cylindrical room. Ivy hung from the ceilings, dark-blossom flowers surrounded Miss Bloom, and a gentle buzz could be hear within. Five great hives stacked close together on the opposite wall. Perfect.

Miss Bloom dexterously raised a small smoke bomb from between her breasts and pushed it next to the largest hive. A 'Poof' later and the buzzing was fainter. Miss Bloom waited a moment for them to be silent before grabbing a few honeycombs. She returned some smoked bees to the hive before bottling her honey. Her fingers tingled where she touched it -- the sensation the honey was famous for.

"I don't know what all these adventures complain about." she said to the bees. "This is all quite easy."

Miss Bloom, happy with three bottles, retreated from the room. She squeezed again through the gap -- Left -- she gently walked over the bridge -- Right -- Left -- Right -- and...

Tripping over a small dent in the floor Miss Bloom reached out to grab anything she could. A strong, yet thin stone pillar saved her. The lantern revealed it was no pillar. She was holding a thick, long stone cock. She blushed, looked upward, and saw a statue of a great woman standing above her. The way it was carved matched a divine statue of the pantheon, but Miss Bloom had no idea who this Goddess was.

The piercing eyes, outstretched bat-wings, and long tail that ended with a bulbous tip told her it wasn't a divine. An occult dungeon? This close to a city? And Miss Bloom still had that sizeable cock in her hand. She quickly pulled away and turned around to leave when the entire room was lit pink. The text on the walls was glowing.

Under a dome ceiling, Miss Bloom stood surrounded by a forest of stone statue cocks. Long, thick, small, equine, drooping, veiny, knotted -- every type of cock you could imagine. In front of her, standing in the centre, was a different cock. Unlike its grey-stone counterparts, this was fleshy and purple. A black base sticking out of the ground, a fully erect shaft -- throbbing violently -- and a pink tip leaking fluid that ran down its length. Miss Bloom was stunned solid; motionless like the statues around her.

Whispering voices started to fill her mind. The thing that terrified Miss Bloom was that the voices were her own.

'Cock' -- 'Mount' -- 'Become' -- 'Power' -- 'Dick' -- 'Lust' -- 'More' -- 'Destiny' -- 'Adore' -- 'Cock'

She didn't notice that she had lifted her skirt as she slowly walked over the cock. She could feel the heat radiating from the shaft as it bumped against her leg. She wasn't thinking. All it took was one wrong turn for Miss Bloom's life to forever change.

The pink script on the walls glowed bright with her screams as if it was responding to her lustful cries. She squatted down brushing her pussy lips against the tip. All she could feel was her ache. Impossible to deny -- all she needed to do was drop her hips and accept the shaft. She was too drunk on need to notice the cock was now also glowing pink.

Her voice could be heard throughout the dungeon floor alongside her rhythmic 'plap-plap-plap' as she fucked herself on the demonic dick. No one would have thought it was Miss Bloom. She moved like a whore -- expert at bouncing on cock. That sweet motherly body was being taken over. The cock began to pump a purple fluid into her. It rolled outward from her pussy painting her skin dark. Her breasts darkened, her nipples ballooned outward, she reached down and ruthlessly thrashed at her clit. Her voice grew deeper and sounded as if it had a dark echo. As her entire body shook with pleasure, her eyes glowed pink, and she creamed all over the floor.

In the darkness, only her gasping could be heard. Stumbling out of the chamber she found the exit. She could -- smell? - the way out. She could -- feel? -- the dungeon. Outside she looked up at the now exposed moon. She bit her lip, sealed the dungeon entrance, and vanished into the night.

>

Pipit was overjoyed to see three bottles of tingle-honey on the kitchen table the morning after. He had grown extremely worried when Miss Bloom didn't come back after dark. Unknown to her, he had actually been awake when she left and watched her through the window. Pipit trusted that his mentor knew what she was doing, but he was deeply relieved when she eventually returned. He decided it was best to pretend he was still asleep.

Before the break of dawn, Pipit rose and started working away on the royal order. While the dough was rising he returned upstairs to cook their breakfast. Bacon and eggs were Miss Bloom's favourite and Pipit felt she deserved a reward after procuring the sticky treasure. Where exactly she had procured it from he did not know. 'Miss Bloom is full of secrets.' He thought as he plated breakfast.

Miss Bloom failed to wake at her usual hour. The shop would open in an hour. Pipit knocked on her door. He heard a heavy thump and then a groan.

"M-Miss Bloom? Breakfast is ready and it is almost the eighth hour."

A muffled cry of: "T-Thank you, one minute!" came through the door.

When Miss Bloom emerged she was dishevelled: her hair stood up in spikes and her eyes struggled to stay open. Pipit's heart quickened. 'Gods test me by living with such a stunning woman.'

"T-the honey..." she mumbled.

"Everything is on schedule, Miss Bloom. The royal order will be ready for your inspection in an hour."

"G-Good boy."

Pipit blushed. She had never called him that before. Following her nose she moved towards the small dining table in the kitchen. Her hand brushed over Pipit's shoulders as she moved past him. Electric shocks went down Pipit's spine as her nails brushed against his skin.

"The shop has been cleaned too, Miss Bloom. All ready for you."

"My dear, you're an angel sent from above."

Pipit stared in awe as Miss Bloom devoured her meal. Usually she ate with grace and dignity -- the perfect vision of a lady. This morning she was licking the plate clean of the grease.

"M-More, Miss Bloom?"

"Oh? Only if there is more."

Pipit hadn't even taken his first bite yet. He took Miss Bloom's empty plate and switched it with his.

"Coming right up."

Miss Bloom watched Pipit as he moved to the counter to prepare more food. She rubbed her eyes and then blinked twice. Her memory was just like her mind: foggy and heavy. Thank goodness she had made it home with the honey. Something about that dungeon made her feel very uncomfortable. 'Never mind. I made it home safe. No scary monsters and strange artefacts. Still it is best to check.'

Miss Bloom opened her status menu. The spell was a simple divination that everyone learned -- no magic talent needed. Debuff: Tired -- 'that makes sense', no cursed items -- 'what a relief', and the normal details --

Name: Era Bloom

Age: 55

Gender: Futanari

Class: Succubus

'Well then, it's time to get on with..."

Miss Bloom looked at the menu again. Futanari. Succubus. Futanari Succubus. She looked down at her dressing gown. Between her pillowy thighs was a mound. She lowered her hand to touch it. Firm. One long part. Two sensitive round parts below it. She didn't move a muscle. Pipit came back into the room and placed two plates filled with food on the table.

"I'm going to clean the surfaces and then prepare to open, Miss Bloom. Miss Bloom?"

She looked up at Pipit. Next to him was another status menu:

Pipit Aaron

Age: 24

Submissive/Dominant: 70/30

Lust: Growing

Corruptible: Highly

Anal, Oral Virgin

"Are you okay, Miss Bloom? You might be exhausted from last night."

"I-I think I am."

"Can I check your status? Just to see-"

"Oh no, no. It says I'm tired which I am. Yes. Just tired."

There was a pause.

"Miss Bloom, let me take over the shop today."

Miss Bloom leaned back surprised by Pipit's directness. She was beginning to panic, but seeing Pipit's determined face brought her back to sanity.

"Already trying to take over, Mr Aaron?"

"You need to rest."

"I think what I need is -"

'I need to stroke my fat cock while thinking about Pipit's tight virgin throat.'

Miss Bloom blinked.

"Please, Miss Bloom. Let me get you some water and then go rest. For me."

'He's so cute and caring. Makes me just want to pin him down and make him scream my name.'

Miss Bloom nodded and made her way to her bedroom.

'Isn't he the most adorable house husband? I think he deserves a big sticky reward straight down that tight throat.'

She closed the door behind her before Pipit could bring her the water. He resolved to make sure she didn't need to be disturbed until midday. He had never seen Miss Bloom like this.

>

It wasn't a mistake. The entire "Succubus Skill Tree" was right there in front of Miss Bloom. A level one succubus. Her cooking skill tree was still there -- nothing had been lost. Only a whole new class gained and the growing bulge between her legs. The urge to touch herself was too strong. Lying on the bed she parted her gown to release her throbbing shaft.

It was demonic, purple, and veiny. It was tiny both flaccid and erect: the length of a finger. It turned black at the base and Miss Bloom looked in horror at the pink crest below her belly-button. The mark of lust. She didn't realize she was stroking her cock while she read through the skill tree.

Paralysis, Lust chastity, Transformation, Total Corruption, Hands-Free, Soul-Link, Mind-bend, Edge-flow.

Her passive abilities were no better. 'Sensual Touch' made any skin-to-skin contact drive people mad with desire. 'Sweet Scent' made her natural body odour intoxicating to most living creatures. She looked back at her level and it was already level three. Every time she stroked her dick she gained experience. The worst part was: she didn't seem to care.

'I should be freaking out. Panicking. Running to the church and drowning myself in holy water. So why? Why don't I care? Why does it feel so good to stroke my cock? Why does Pipit give me those loving eyes? Why doesn't he start sucking my cock like a good-'