Succubated!

Like most Roman Catholic priests below the ranks of Monsignor and bishops, Father Michael Belmont had a modest stipend deposited into a modest bank account. It will dwindle to less than modest, even endangered, Micki thought, if I keep shopping at this rate. But the feeling was intoxicating. She was no longer attracting attention in the way she’d worried over relentlessly in recent weeks. The changes wrought by possession had first made her look like a middle-aged man with a massive hormone imbalance, then an androgynous woman attempting to pass as someone else—whether a sickly priest or a femme domme. Today, she thought, could I just be myself? Whoever that is…

Her training in theology and philosophy made Micki acutely aware that buying things was an insidious way to define oneself, not to mention a stereotype too often used to portray women as frivolous. On the other hand, a girl needs clothes, she told herself. And some shoes, just a couple pairs for now. Some basic tops, skirts and slacks. A few pairs of earrings.

Mick had moved on to dresses, but that was going to be the limit for the day; she had to meet Susan for lunch. What kind of dress would John like to see me wear? she thought. What if I bent over, hiked up the skirt and… and she nearly bumped into a woman pushing a stroller, swinging her shopping bags out of the way as she sidled into a clothing boutique.

John was still on her mind. She felt him in other parts of her body, too; she could still sense the shape of him inside of her, from all the sex they’d had today, and yesterday. Darkness below, she thought. What an erotic sensation, the space left behind by a man. After their first session, they’d slept woke for much of the day, just enjoying each other in new ways. Micki had thoroughly worn out his mortal body by this morning, and though John continued to look at her with hunger and affection mingling in his eyes, she gave the poor priest a break.

She started thumbing through a rack of slinky dresses, trying to imagine how each would drape on her body, a body she wasn’t perfectly familiar with yet.

“Hey there,” said a young, polished man as he slid into her field of vision. “Can I help you find anything?”

She looked up; he was probably in his mid-twenties, which was younger than Micki, but not younger than she looked. He was lean, with olive skin and a carefully trimmed line of beard, and wore a name tag identifying him as Avery. She flashed him a dazzling smile. “I hope so,” she replied. “My friend bought a beautiful… gown here last week?” Why am I making stories up? She thought.

Avery grinned. “Oh yeah? Did your friend like it?” Whatever the case, he seemed game to return the volley.

 “Definitely,” she cooed. “She loved it so much that she wanted to wear it home. Do you… allow that? If I found something that looked, you know, just perfect on me?”

Avery’s eyes darted over her body; his expression turned thoughtful. “No problem at all,” he mused. “I bet you’d look amazing in that one.” He fingered a green dress and leaned across her to lift it, stepped right next to her. He was wearing one of those unisex designer fragrances. So different from John, she thought, but also appealing… “If you like something here, why not try it on?” he suggested. She stepped back deftly. Her demi-succubus instincts were almost getting the better of her. “Of course. I’ll take a few of these to your dressing rooms?”

Avery nodded enthusiastically. “Perfect—let me unlock one for you.” He took her hand and escorted her to a row of fitting rooms. She glanced behind them; another employee was watching from an aisle with his hands clasped in front of him. This was an expensive place, she realized, and the sale of the right item could mean a significant commission. A dress going missing, however, would be a big deal. Wait, what was she considering doing?

Avery closed the door after her. “Please let me know how the fit is, or if you need any help… another dress, or if you’re having trouble adjusting anything?” His voice was just slightly over-eager.

Micki slipped her shoes off onto the carpeted floor of the dressing room, then shimmied out of her slacks. She’d strapped her tail to her thigh with the slim leg brace Susan had given her, but now it was pulsing slightly, as if it could sense her hunger. At least it hadn’t grown to its full size; she had it coil around her waist as a belt, flattening slightly, then tried on one dress at a time.

Most of them were too conservative or too plain for her tastes. One seemed like a decent option: a strapless green sheath with a plunging neckline that showed off the creamy space between her breasts nicely. Another was a lace-trimmed red dress with a tight, sleeveless bodice and a skirt that flared out pleasingly. It certainly flattered her curves, emphasizing the modest lines of her bust. Are these the curves I’ll have in a week, though? She could sense, from the way she felt in her own skin, that she hadn’t finished changing yet.

She adjusted the red dress, running her fingers through the soft ebony fall of her hair, and turned to look in the mirror. The reflection was a shock. Her face was softer, more beautiful than she kept remembering it—but her eyes were still uncanny, yellow-white irises set within pupils shaped like rectangles. At her temples, her horns poked up in pale points.

No wonder I’m drawing attention from Avery and anyone who looks at me closely, she thought. Gazing down at her body, taking in the total effect, she was gorgeous, but also an oddity. It’s one thing to notice a pretty girl passing you by, and quite another to realize you’re probably speaking to a magical being.

New York City was home to many visitors from distant realms, creatures out of myth, even ordinary people who’d discovered they had some manner of eldritch blood—but a “sighting” was still as noteworthy for many people as bumping into a celebrity would be. Some passersby might think she was wearing unusual contact lenses, which had gotten trendy, or a hair ornament with horns, hardly unheard of.

Susan had ideas and plans to let her pass as human, but Micki had no longer felt like concealing who she was. With the right clothes, and a newfound confidence, she could impress others not just as an oddity, but as an exceptional beauty.

She spun to check her backside in the mirror. The dress flared like the bell of a flower close to her knee, but hugged her in a soft, sensual curve about her hips and buttocks. When she leaned over to survey her rear end, she couldn’t help but marvel at how luscious it looked. It was tight enough that she could see the line of her underwear below the ridge where her tail coiled around her. I could have this tailored with a slit just here, she mused. She could wear her tail on the outside, as a belt; maybe even slip it through a buckle for effect, then have it ready for when she needed it. Needed it for what, she wondered, as her tail wiggled a little, enjoying the attention. Better not think too much about that.

A knock at the door startled her. She opened it and peeked out. Avery stood outside; his cheeks looked flushed; his pupils dilated just slightly. Did I always notice this sort of detail? “You doing all right in there, Miss? Thought I should… check on you.”

Micki favored him with a wicked grin. “Hmm, I think so. You can call me Micki, by the way.” She gestured toward the dress after stepping out. “This one seems perfect for me,” she purred. He stepped back to regard her, eyes wide. “What do you think?” she asked innocently.

“Oh,” he stammered. “Fantastic. As if tailor-made for your body!” He was peering at where her tail nestled.

Micki grimaced a bit and lowered her voice. “I didn’t bring the right panties to wear this out, though. Is there any chance I could buy a thong to try on? I’m so sorry.” Avery coughed and nodded, walking away and returning moments later with a small package, opening it with shaking fingers. Micki glanced around. The other employee was nowhere to be seen.

“Wait right there. I need you to give me a revised opinion.” She kept smiling as she turned to the mirror, hiked up her skirt to tug her peach-hued bikini down, then slid it off her bare legs. Avery watched in the mirror, his gaze intense and unblinking. What the hell am I doing? Micki’s thoughts jumbled atop one another. This has already gone beyond my indulgence in a day of shopping like a normal girl. Somewhere in the distance, she thought she heard a faint sound of high-pitched, bubbling laughter.

Her heart raced, but she moved as if on autopilot, holding her hand out to Avery for the thong. He kept his eyes on hers as she stepped into the black fabric, and she did her best to maintain that eye contact as the thong nestled into her ass and across her sex: a strange but comfortably tight feeling.

“I really don’t wear this sort of thing,” she said with honesty, then felt compelled to add, “You know. Human clothes.” He gulped. “Do I have this on right?” She stepped further towards the back wall of the dressing room and leaned over, steadying herself with one hand on the mirror, then bent over and pulled her skirt up. Micki arched her ass up in his direction, presenting the thong to him for inspection.

In the mirror, she could glimpse the droplets of sweat on his forehead as he stared. His thoughts of propriety were long gone, she figured. “Looks like… it fits perfectly.”

She pushed the thong to one side. “How about now? Does this look good to you?”

Avery loosened his tie. “I never get this involved with customers’ purchasing decisions.” He rolled his neck. “Or with women almost ever, if I’m being honest. But I could make an exception in your case… as a special client.” He stepped into the dressing room and closed the door.

“You ever fuck a demon before?” Micki said. To her surprise, he nodded. He was already unbuckling his belt.

“Only once. He fucked me, actually. Seemed like a decent guy, a little surly.” Avery put a gentle hand on the small of her back. “Anything… I should know?” Micki stared back, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes and parted lips. In answer to his question, she unfurled her tail and let it slide down her leg, then snake around his, rising to tug at his waistband. Avery raised his eyebrows, but smiled.

“Come on and fuck me,” she snarled. He obliged, his boxers down. She turned to face the mirror, saw him step forward, and felt his warm cock press against her. Then he was slipping inside, her folds parting for him. She clenched her muscles instinctively, eliciting a moan before he started pumping.

Oh fuck, thought Micki. What the fuck am I doing? It’s been hours since I was bouncing on top of John, and now I’m being railed by this shopkeeper I just met? I could have controlled myself, but I didn’t. I let go. It’s too much fun, the power to make this happen.

Avery was really going at her, with the frenzied excitement of a quickie between strangers. His hips banged Micki against the mirror, her face pressing up against the glass despite bracing herself with her arms. Avery’s cock pounded into her with a series of rhythmic, slippery squelches, and she felt her plump ass shake with every stroke. She was thinking about slipping her tail up towards Avery’s own backside when he prodded something deep inside her that made her cry out and buck. Her head hit the mirror—or rather, her bony horns did, leaving two web-like cracks.

“Holy crap!” Micki yelled, in a manner unbefitting a priest. “Shit, I’m so sorry.” Suddenly panicked, she pulled away from Avery and slipped off him with a decided lack of grace.

“Wait, it’s all right,” he protested. “Accidents—these things happen.” His cock was bouncing in front of him as he tried to keep her from falling over. Micki was blushing a deep pink and touching the cracks in the mirror gingerly.

“I—I can pay for it, somehow!” she said. “And this dress, and the underwear. I’m sorry, I’ve ruined everything.”

“Hey… hey!” Avery calmed her. “I understand, believe me. Public sex is intense, but there’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s all right, you can just go if you need to.” He was pulling up his pants, looking unsurprisingly tense.

“You don’t really understand,” she said. “If you’d… if we’d—I don’t know exactly what would happen, but the precedent isn’t great. Um… can I pay for this stuff somehow?”

Avery shook his head. “Just slip out, don’t let the manager see you, and take the dress, girl.”

“That would be stealing!” Micki protested.

He just gave her a strange look. “I work in retail, dear. I know that. Are you really a demon?”

Micki gave him an exasperated look. “I’m new.”

***

She’d ended up paying for the dress, which was as expensive as she feared, but really did look fantastic on her. Although the style was a little dressy for lunch, it went well with the broad-brimmed black hat she’d picked up at a vintage store, and she drew more glances as she made her way through the crowds near Union Square to her lunch appointment with Susan.

She found Susan at a table near the back of the cafe, dropped her shopping bags, and took a seat. Susan lowered her phone and looked up, startled and more than a little flustered. “Oh! I’m sorry, but I’m waiting for someone!”

Micki took her sunglasses off and folded them. “Susan. It’s me.”

Susan stared back at her in shock. “Micki?! Your… your face! Your voice… your dress, oh my god!” Micki watched Susan put her hand to her mouth; her fingers trembled slightly. Then Susan seemed to pull herself together and sat upright again. “You look amazing!” She glanced around the room quickly; no one was paying any attention to the two young women having lunch together.

“All of this… since you left my apartment three days ago?” Susan was still disbelieving. She reached across the table and grasped Micki’s arm tightly. “When did you change? Is Yael back?”

“Yes,” Micki admitted. “After I got to the rectory, Yael and I had a bit of a… struggle. I ended up looking like this.” She fanned her fingers, gesturing at her face. “And then, um… it turns out Father John was at the rectory, and I… uh…” She trailed off awkwardly.

“You what?” Susan leaned closer. “Wait… did you sleep with him?” There was an excited glint in her eye. Without a trace of jealousy, Micki thought. That works out well… for me?

“Um,” said Micki, suddenly bashful. “Maybe. A little. Okay, a lot. For a couple of days.” She took a deep breath, watching Susan’s hungry-for-details expression, and couldn’t help blushing. “I’m kind of amazed that I’m not, um… sore. Must be something about this body.” They both laughed softly.

“I have, like, a billion questions,” continued Susan. She started writing notes. That damn notebook, thought Micki. It’s like she’s putting my whole life and ordeal in there. She calmed herself, bidding the unkind thought to silence. Susan had helped her more than any living being.

“First… did anything happen to John afterwards? You know, as with Maria… or me?” Susan swallowed nervously.

Micki shook her head. “Not at all. It was a little strange, again… but there didn’t seem to be anything John wanted within reach of whatever succubus powers are working through me.”

Susan kept writing. “I’ll want whatever details you can give me… but before that, I take it he’s on board with why you don’t want to be exorcised? So are the two of you, you know…” Susan trailed off. She didn’t seem sure how to finish the sentence.

“No,” said Micki firmly. “Nothing like that! At least I hope not? In some ways, I still think of him as my junior partner. And… I can’t put my finger on exactly why, but I just don’t feel an instinct to… attach myself to one person? Settle down?”

Susan was writing notes. “That certainly makes sense, although I’m biased. Supernatural sexual durability. Inherently non-monogamous… standard succubus stuff.” She paused in thought. “I want more information… but how are you handling all of this?”

Micki frowned. “Simultaneously great and terrible? It’s exhilarating just being able to… walk around as myself. But I don’t know who ‘myself’ is supposed to be. Everything is coming too fast.” She lowered her voice. “I was looking at this dress, and I ended up having sex with the shopkeeper who was helping me.”

Susan gasped. “Get out of here! Like, in the store?!” Micki nodded, mortified. “Did you seduce him?” Micki shrugged, with a helpless grimace on her face.

“All right,” Susan shook her head in wonderment. “That really is heavy-duty succubus territory. Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out. Has Yael… made any comments regarding your changes?”

Micki looked thoughtful. “She said I was coming along nicely, and that I’d need to feed soon. I assume she meant sex. In the dream where my face changed, she was angry that we’d left her in the church crypt instead of doing more.” She frowned. “Could we have done something more for her? She was instrumental in the defense of our church, even if the archdiocese can never admit that.”

Susan tapped her lip with her pen. “I may have erred,” she said after a moment. “I didn’t want her coming back right away. That way, you could get breathing room to figure things out on your own. But we could have performed another ritual to feed her with… you know.” Susan grinned, stuck her tongue out to the side and crossed her eyes.

“Is that supposed to be the face of someone having an orgasm?” Micki furrowed her brows at her friend. Susan simply sighed and said nothing.

Micki went on. “Obviously, I wouldn’t be here with you like this—as Micki Belmont, as who I am now, without that breathing room. So… thank you for that.” The young scholar smiled at this. “On the other hand… Susan, I feel like I’m losing myself. Becoming something different… more like her. That started at SUBMISSION, not when Yael awoke.”

They fell into silence for a moment; then Susan sat up, as if forcibly perking herself into attention. “What’s the name of your third-grade teacher? Quickly!”

Micki squinted at her. “Ms. Kowalski? Why do you ask?”

“Because you still have all your memories. You’re you. You lived a human life, and now you’re something more.” Susan placed a firm hand on Micki’s arm. “You seem to be part succubus, as we’ve surmised, and your body is still changing. Besides your third-grade teacher, what else should go on the profile of who you are? Help me out here.”

Micki thought. “Interesting. Well, my name is now Micki Belmont. I believe in God as the Three Persons of the Trinity and profess my faith in the same way that we talked about the other day. I was ordained as a Roman Catholic priest twenty-two years ago and have served for a good stretch of that time as the pastor of St. Andrew’s, though no longer.”

Susan nodded. “Good enough. Now tell me what you’ve learned about yourself since you became Micki Belmont.”

Micki shrugged. “I’m more like Yael than ever before. I’ve been… succubated, as you once put it.”

Susan wrote furiously. “What does that mean?”

Micki took a deep breath. “I once knew I had to deny my sexual impulses, particularly towards men, in order to live a righteous life and follow my calling. Now I feel quite the opposite, that sex is a vital means of expression and the truth of human passion and connection. It’s not as if those philosophies are totally incompatible, but I’ve swung poles.”

Susan nodded, motioning for Micki to continue. “I used to fear the dark, at least metaphorically, because it was where monsters came from. Now the dark feels like my home.” She grinned. “The way I relate to my body has changed, obviously. The way I see others has changed too; I’m more aggressive, argumentative, and resistant to authority or outside suggestion. I swear differently—Susan, I said ‘darkness below’ to myself earlier, and I don’t even know what that means! In the past, I only fantasized about men; now I desire men and women both, and anyone else besides. I want to touch humans and feel human bodies and fuck humans into puddles of raw pleasure, then lap it all up. Constantly!”

Susan looked up from her notes. “Okay. That for sure sounds like a succubus thing.”

“Of course. As for my faith… though I still believe, I’m looking at it all from a different perspective. Questioning everything, rather than accepting doctrine as part of my calling.” Micki paused. “I have this weird feeling that God put me through all this to test me somehow.”

“Interesting,” Susan said. “And if I asked you what you want to do with your life, your abilities?”

“Well,” Micki said slowly. “I suppose I want to learn how to use my abilities positively—to help people. To give love. To spread joy.” She shook her head. “Not sure how that can happen, though. I haven’t even figured out how to control my body and impulses yet.”

Susan smiled wryly. “You’ll figure it out. Just like anyone else.”

Micki frowned. “Most of all… I don’t want to lose any part of myself, of what I’ve experienced. Not to Yael, even if she wants this body all to herself. Not to an exorcism, if it’s going to… revert me somehow? Is that possible?”

Susan sighed and put down her pen. “I honestly don’t know. Theoretically speaking, yes. Practically? Who knows? If that sort of exorcism succeeded, you’d likely end up back in your old body. As for changes in your thoughts and feelings… it’s complicated! Your mind is also part of your body. Maybe you’d forget everything that’s happened in the last few months. Maybe you’d view our current conversation, the relationships you have now, with disgust. I can’t say.”

Micki nodded. “We go forward, then. And I’ll try to avoid Monsignor Spencer for as long as I can.”

Susan nodded in return. “And Yael?”

“I don’t know, Susan. I feel like we’ve wronged her, and yet my instincts tell me I must fight her. Now that I’m increasingly a succubus on my own, that feeling’s stronger than ever, as if we’re two queen bees contesting a hive. Do you think there’s any way we could reach an accord?”

Susan considered the question. “I’ve been assuming that you’re two incompatible memetic entities, conflicting in the same physical body. One will eventually erase the other, so you’re bound to clash. Still, Yael is terribly intelligent, with complex motives. Perhaps you can talk it out?”

Micki sighed. “Succubus to succubus.”