The Fell Clutch of Circumstance

Author's note:

Please see part 1 for blurb and content warnings. And, if you haven't read Part 1 yet, I strongly suggest you do so before proceeding.

All sensuality (on page or otherwise) takes place between characters who are eighteen or older.

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Nine

"Where's Eshe?" Aaron asked upon emerging from the room he had been shown to in her penthouse upon their arrival the previous evening.

"Resting," Nythis replied curtly from where she stood dusting a lamp in the living room with one hand while the other held a long cigarette-holder which looked to have been fashioned from bone and from which an acrid smoke curled. "I have acquired food and beverage to sustain your body. They can be found in the Chamber of Gustatory Indulgence."

His mind reeled at the unfamiliar term, but she offered a measure of assistance in the guise of a pointed nod to her left. Once it became clear she had nothing further to offer him, he acceded to the undeniable fact that he was quite hungry, and very thirsty. He wandered in the indicated direction, down a lengthy hall which had a series of five arched doorways with capstones containing unfamiliar lettering. As he walked down the hall, he experienced a riot of sensory stimulations. The first room reminded him of a candle store crossed with the whorehouse he had been convinced to visit while stationed in Thailand, with overpowering smells nearly sending him scampering back to safety. The next contained strobing lights which cast the haunting sight of what he could only describe as living paintings depicting every lewd, lascivious, and lustful act known to man in a frightful light. The third featured thrumming bass notes which reminded him all too urgently of the fact that he had neither eaten nor made use of a restroom since his arrival at Eshe's penthouse the day before; along with the sounds of shrieking, moaning passion which seemed to emanate from the very walls. The fourth doorway rippled like the surface of a pond, and the air beyond was more humid than the Bayou in August, pressing against his skin in slow, invisible waves as curtains of every conceivable material from silk to leather to fur shifted as though stroked by unseen fingers.

Finally reaching the end of the hall, Aaron arrived at the fifth room, which drew him in like a bee to honey; where a stocked wet bar was placed opposite a chilled marble slab dusted for candy-making; and bowls of salt, sugar, and something unidentifiable sat shoulder to shoulder with silver platters bearing fruits, meats, and cheeses along with dips ranging from the delectable to the sinful to the unimaginable, all of which were heightened by the air which was thick with the remembered tang of sweat, sex, and, above all else, indulgence. And, at the center of it all, he found a table which lured him in like a mother's welcoming embrace. At its center, a platter was stacked high with still-steaming biscuits, glistening scrambled eggs, grits swirled with cheese, and sausage patties peppered to perfection. A carafe of coffee sat beside a pitcher of thick cream and a cut-crystal pitcher of water so clear it almost vanished against the tablecloth, which was thick velvet in the same deep crimson as Eshe's skin.

Thirty blissful minutes later, Aaron emerged from what he would later learn was called the Hall of Indulgence to find Nythis seated on a couch reading what looked for all the world to be a paperback novel. It took him only a moment to render the opinion that the book in question was a bodice-ripper style romance (based on the sliver of the cover he could spot... and the fact that she was fervently masturbating).

"Oh," he gasped as he tried, and ultimately failed, to avert his gaze from the sight of the lithe beauty lustfully and unabashedly flicking her clit. "I'm so sorry."

"Why?" she panted while showing no signs of curtailing her efforts.

"If you could just point me toward a bathroom..."

"Third door on the right," she wheezed as her book clattered to the floor and her other hand joined the fun. "Down the Hall of Renewal."

Aaron found the hall with little trouble, as Eshe's penthouse had but three halls, and the third option was obviouslynotdedicated to renewal. The bathroom in question was enormous, larger than the master suite in what he glumly realized was nowCharlene'shouse. Setting aside such dangerous thoughts, he attended to his most pressing need before indulging in a long, hot shower. Unwelcome thoughts of both Eshe's pinup worthy curves and Nythis's petite allure sprang unbidden into his mind, and triggered the first erection he could remember in many moons.

"Nope," he grunted to the obsidian walls surrounding him, since will alone was proving unsuccessful at preventing his hand from straying toward his manhood. "I'm not jerking off to a fucking succubus in her own house. I'm married, for Gah..."

What the bible-thumping preachers who had littered his homeland like locusts would have called blasphemy died on his lips; the memory of Eshe's harsh rebuke ringing clear in his ears.

"Besides," he continued to himself. "I guess I'm not married anymore. Am I? With the time-dilation, I'm guessing another year has passed back home. Charlene has almost certainly remarried at this point. Right?" He looked back down at his now fully engorged erection. "Why shouldn't I?"

He had just wrapped his hand around his shaft when he heard the door to the bathroom open and Nythis's voice called out, "Aaron? My mistress bade me to inquire if I can be of assistance."

"Nuh... no!" he yelped as he covered himself reflexively despite the curtain of steam billowing out of the shower making the chances of her observing him all but impossible. "I'm just finishing up."

"Are you certain there isnothingyou require... or desire?"

"I'm good. I'll be right out."

"Very well."

He shut off the water and dried himself frantically, only to discover that the hospital pajamas (which he had been wearing since he had bullied Paulina into allowing him to die wearing something other than an open-backed gown) had disappeared. He spent a few minutes looking around frantically for an alternative before finally sighing in resignation and walking nude from the bathroom. He ducked into the room to which Nythis had directed him the day before, but found it similarly barren with respect to garments. Rather than once again risk running into Eshe's minion, he started checking the other doors along the Hall of Renewal.

Upon opening the door at the end of the hall, his mouth dropped open in amazement. In the middle of an opulent bed, with a frame of polished obsidian and blood-red silk sheets, he found Eshe soaked in sweat and curled into the fetal position. He rushed to the side of the bed, although he was careful not to touch her lest he again invoke Nythis's wrath.

"What the fuck is going on Eshe?" Aaron whispered urgently.

"It's nothing," she winced through gritted teeth.

"You were the picture of health yesterday," he pressed. "I thought you said you were immortal."

"Iamimmortal. I am not in danger of discorporating, Aaron. Now, please, just allow Nythis to attend to your needs until my concubine returns."

"What aren't you telling me?"

"I already told you," she grimaced. "I..."

Further words devolved into an unintelligible growl as her muscles locked, and her eyes rolled back in her head. Her body began spasming helplessly, and her hands clawed at her lower legs with frantic urgency. An anguished, "Fuck!" escaped her lips and tears streamed from her eyes. She hissed, "Shit! Shit! Shit!" as she thrashed mindlessly.

Ignoring Nythis's stern warning, Aaron took Eshe's hand and whispered, "I'm right here. Just try to breathe. It'll be over soon."

After ten anguished minutes, during which she alternated gasping for breath and writhing in pain, the tension finally left her body, and she sank back against the sweat-soaked pillows.

Aaron dabbed her forehead with a cloth he found at her bedside until her breathing normalized, whereupon he gently observed, "You didn't cure me... you took my disease. Didn't you?"

"It won't kill me," she wheezed. "It can't. I just have to wait until my concubine returns, and he'll give me the energy I need to heal myself."

"When is he returning?"

"Twenty-one days."

"Three fucking weeks!" he yelped.

"I will not warn you again about touching my mistress," Nythis snarled from the door to Eshe's room.

"It's ok, pet," Eshe whispered. "He's just... trying to help."

"Why will it take so long for her concubine to return?" Aaron demanded of Eshe's minion.

Nythis glanced to her mistress for approval. Upon receiving a weary nod of assent, she said, "She sent him to her estate in the hills of Arava, so he would be safe from any blowback which might have occurred in relation to her intercession on your behalf. I already sent word for him to return as soon as possible, but he was sent via obscured carriage and thus it is impossible to locate either him or his escort. We must wait for him to arrive, whereupon he will be returned here by wyvern with all possible haste."

"She told me she cured me."

"Your disease is gone, is it not?"

"That's not the point!" he thundered. "Can't you see she's suffering?"

"Of course I can, and I would do anything in my power... anything which was permitted, to ease her pain. I begged her to allow me to be the bearer of your sickness, but she refused. And demons cannot heal one another."

"What aren't you telling me?"

"I am not at liberty to say."

His mind raced with all she had revealed, all she had implied, and all she had left unsaid. Aaron had never been a big fan of fantasy novels, and thus had only the most rudimentary understanding as to the nature of succubi. In truth, he knew little beyond the fact that they were creatures of seduction, and that sex represented both their stock in trade and their means of nourishment.

He looked to Nythis and asked, "Why must she wait for her concubine? Did she take a vow to remain faithful to him?"

A horrified look crossed Nythis's features, and she gasped, "Don't be obscene!"

"Then... why does she have to wait for his return?"

"Do you see any other humans around here?"

"Silence!" Eshe wheezed weakly.

Aaron shook his head in dismay as understanding dawned.

"What is it, exactly, that you require?" Aaron asked of the suffering succubus.

"Go 'way."

He turned to Nythis and persisted. "Please, just tell me how I can help her."

"I... am not permitted."

"I suspect she told you that you weren't allowed to let me know that Icouldhelp her. But I'll bet she wouldn't have found it necessary to forbid you from telling me exactlyhowI can help her."

Nythis spared a quick glance at her mistress before returning her attention to him and declaring, "It is your orgasm which nourishes us."

"But what does that mean? I need you to be specific."

"Our primary sustenance is the surge of energy humans experience when climaxing, but we are also energized by their physical essence." She paused for a moment, taking in his perplexed look, before elaborating, "Your seed."

"So, you have to... eat it?"

"That's certainly one way to do it, but we get the same result (at least when taking a human male for a lover) however they ejaculate into us."

"So," he began, feeling the weight of long years of remembered suffering pressing down on him, "she'd rather spend the next two fucking months in absolute agony rather than ask me to help her?"

"My mistress is a very unusual succubus, human. There was a time when she was no different from myself and the rest of our brethren; treating humans with little more regard than you showed for the pig who gave his life to provide your breakfast. But then something changed, and she became a passionate defender of consent."

"What happened to change her mind?"

"I am not permitted to speak of it. It is irrelevant in any case. She recognizes the extremely tenuous situation in which she has placed you; considering she's your only hope of returning to your own plane of Existence. Thus, she will not even consider asking you to help her, nor will she permit me to do so in her stead."

"But... what if I want to help her?"

"Why would you do that?"

"I've lived through what she's experiencing right now, and I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. What's more, she saved my life. If I can help her, I owe it to her to do whatever I can."

Nythis gave him a long hard look before saying, "You must be certain, Aaron. This is not something which can be undone."

"You swear I won't lose my soul?" he asked warily.

"I swear by His Most Unholy Majesty, Samael the Morning Star, neither your soul, nor your life, is in danger."

"Ok," Aaron huffed gravely. "I'm in. So... what do I do?"

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Ten

"She is too weak for intercourse at the moment." Nythis declared as she stared intently into Aaron's eyes.

He held her gaze, no easy feat considering her amber irises combined with deep red sclera unnerved him more than he wanted to admit. "So, we're fucked?"

She chuckled and replied, "What a fascinating turn of phrase."

"That's no answer!"

"Only because you've yet to fully appreciate what you have committed to."

"I may be mortal," he snapped in irritation. "But I'm not stupid. You said before I needed to have sex with her, but now you're saying she's too weak."

"You must accept me as her surrogate," Nythis replied as though it were patently obvious. "At least initially."

"How does that work?" he asked, his annoyance fading as his curiosity (along with no small amount of desire) rose.

"That depends on your preference, Hier of Neroon the Betrayer."

"Could you not call me that, especially considering I don't have the foggiest idea what you're talking about?"

"Aaron, then," she conceded with a strained look. "You will have intercourse with me, and then I will transfer your seed to her. It may take several extractions before she has enough energy to participate."

"I'm fifty-three years old, madam. Ask my wife. I'll honestly be stunned if you get even a single extraction."

"Perhaps I can incentivize you, then," Nythis replied sultrily as she climbed to her feet.

Before his eyes, Nythis performed a miracle. Without the benefit of an otherworldly flash, or the sound of thunder, or a pulse of energy in the air, or even the stink of burning sulfur; she transformed before his eyes. One femtosecond, she was a sultry, petite succubus (complete with a slender, athletic body featuring an impossibly narrow waist above alluringly curved hips; toned tummy; modest breasts which were high and firm, with tiny nipples and barely-there areola); the next, she was the spitting image of Charlene on the evening following their wedding.

"Jesus Christ!" he gasped.

"Hold your tongue," she thundered. "We cannot risk the attention your blasphemy will bring upon us."

Aaron winced in response to the force of her words, but he was somewhat comforted to hear Nythis's voice come out of Charlene's mouth. Try as he might, however, he could not tear his eyes from the bewitched sight before him. Standing just a hair taller than his own average height, Charlene was simply stunning. Her impossibly long legs terminated at a meticulously shaped and trimmed pubic area of dark-blonde hair. The beneficiary of near-perfect genes, she possessed a flawlessly flat tummy (despite never exercising or giving more than a passing thought to watching her diet) and breasts which were the perfect size to fill his hands. Her sun-kissed blonde hair had a slight curl and was long enough to reach the top of her breasts.

Nythis undulated under his inspection before climbing onto the bed beside Eshe and asking, "Surely you must have long dreamed of taking your wife's ass, Aaron." She wiggled Charlene's delectable derrière at him before adding, "Well... now you can."

"Please... change... back..." he pleaded through gritted teeth.

"As you wish," she simmered following another instantaneous change.

She had not, however, turned back into the succubus he had met the day before. At least... not exactly. Her body was a perfect match but gone were any suggestion that she was a supernatural being (including the horns, wings and red skin). She instead evidenced the appearance of a Mediterranean vixen, with olive skin and blonde-highlighted brown hair.

"Thank you," he sighed in relief.

"Just remember. If you change your mind about sodomizing your wife, you need only to ask."

"I'm good."

"Then perhaps you'd commence with sodomizing me," she retorted snippily. "Or had you forgotten my mistress's agony?"

"Does it have to be... um... anal? And how the fuck would she get my um... sperm if we..."

"I will sit on her face, and she will suck it from my ass."

"How revolting," he groaned.

"We feed on the ecstasy of mortals," she replied drolly. "So, we produce no waste. Our anuses exist only for intercourse, just like our pussies (since we obviously cannot bear children). As to your prejudices, would you prefer I finish you with my mouth and then feed her. It would be slightly awkward... but, if you'd prefer, I could bring you to completion directly intohermouth."

"How?" he challenged.

"I could bring you to the brink of orgasm; then you kneel at her side and shove your cock in her mouth, then I stroke you to release."

"Do you always make your work sound this unsexy?"

"You're stalling," she snapped. "And my mistress is in pain. Are you willing to help her, or aren't you?"

He took a calming breath before replying. "I said I was, and I meant it."

"Then lay by her side."

As Aaron took his place, he could not help but notice that Eshe's body was slicked with sweat and she was in a near-catatonic state which he recognized all too easily as the false promise which followed the conclusion of a paralyzing attack, and the haunted expression of one who knew that more pain was imminent. He took her hand and felt the faintest squeeze in response before his attention was literally sucked to his companion's minion.

"What are you doing?" he gasped as she opened her jaw to an almost comical degree to lathe his balls with her tongue while holding the entirety of his still mostly flaccid manhood in her mouth.

Her unspoken response wrenched a yelp from his lungs as she sank her index finger into his asshole up to the second knuckle, nearly causing him to instinctively leap off the bed.

"Wait!" he howled in desperation as she started to work another finger into his ass.

"I'm through waiting," she huffed in frustration. She glared at him for a moment before adding, "Perhaps you require additional visual stimulation. What are your turn-ons?"

"Excuse me?"

"Big tits? Small tits? No tits? Big ass? No ass? Fat? Skinny? Short? Tall?"

"I don't know," he groaned.

"You try my patience, mortal," she growled. "But no matter. You are an American born in the twentieth century. Surely you will respond to this!"

Between one heartbeat and the next, her breasts grew by two cup sizes, her skin-tone faded from Mediterranean to Scandinavian, her hair color faded to pale blonde, and her eyes changed from warm brown to dazzling blue.

"Oh! My! Gah..."

"Don't say it!" Nythis interrupted.

"But... you look like Marilyn Monroe!"

"I can look like whoever you want," she murmured as she again lowered her head to his rising manhood. "Even though you seem quite content to watch Marilyn Monroe sucking your cock."

"You have no idea," he sighed.

The fact that Marilyn née Nythis's blowjob was unambiguously about harvesting his seed with all possible haste did not diminish the apex-level fantasy she was gifting him, nor did it detract from the pleasure she was imparting. With the benefit of preternatural instincts with respect to intimacy, she rose up onto her knees without allowing his manhood to escape her mouth. This allowed his gaze to fall upon the breasts which had enraptured a generation, libidinously swaying beneath her such that her turgid nipples grazed over his thighs with her every movement.