The Generator: The Succubae Seduction (41 page)

She recovers quickly and gently pushes Angela away, gasping. “No fair. . . using your abilities on me. . . like that,” she complains.

“At least now you’ve tried,” Angela replies, a smile lighting her beautiful features.

Brooke looks up at me. I see a grin curl the sides of her mouth. “Why don’t
you
kiss me like that?”

My lips move wordlessly as I try to formulate a response, but can’t think of one. I decide to take her words for the challenge that they likely were anyway.

Moving back to her, I get a hold of her pert bum, lift her up, and enjoy the way her legs wrap around my waist, her gown riding up to her thighs. Moving my right hand to the small of her back, I press her close to me. She has to lower her head slightly to meet my lips. My tongue darts between her lips, but when she opens up to let it in, I pull it back. Thank you Jennifer, for teaching me that trick! After a few seconds of playing cat and mouse, she grabs my cheeks, growls hungrily, and refuses to open up at my next tease.

Concentrating my full will on her pleasure, she gasps, and this time when my tongue enters her mouth, it stays there. I don’t know how long we stay like that, me concentrating on my childhood friend’s bliss while kissing her passionately, but the feeling of my pants disappearing, and my phallic rod slipping into a warm wet mouth, distracts me enough that I release my mental control on Brooke.

She gasps, throwing her head back, and allowing me to nibble lightly on her neck. I feel a different movement near my left hand, still on her buttocks, and realize that Angela must be playing with Brooke, while giving me head. She really is multi-talented!

“No more!” Brooke wheezes, trying to wriggle free of my arms. “You’ve both made your point.” She looks at me sharply as I set her down after Angela relinquishes my prick. “If you ever kiss me like that in the real world, I may end up jumping you, consequences be damned.”

I can’t hide my smile as I reply, “I can control when I want to conceive.”

Tears form in Brooke’s beautiful eyes, and she looks between Angela and me. I can practically feel the hope pouring from the mermaid.

“We think. . . .” the succubus clarifies, but it only slightly diminishing the joy in those familiar sea green eyes.

Angela and I are pulled into a powerful hug from the former assassin, and this time there is no doubt about the feelings of love and joy that pour from both women.

My cock is still rock hard, and being pressed against these beautiful women only makes me hornier. I move my mouth to Angela’s, dropping my right hand to Brooke’s soaked twat. I easily find the redhead’s clit, and press firmly against it as I bring my left hand around to the succubus’s right pierced nipple. Lightly tugging on the jewelry elicits a moan from the blue haired woman, and I release her mouth to turn back to Brooke’s waiting lips.

Deciding to have some fun with the physics of this place, I tilt the world until both women are lying on top of me. This brings a round of giggles from them. I see their eyes sparkle for a moment as they look at each other. Brooke breaks the gaze and looks at me for just a moment, then grabs the back of Angela’s head and pulls her into a passionate kiss. This time it’s Angela that’s caught off guard. I wonder that the succubus hadn’t read the mermaid’s intentions. I guess it’s not a foolproof ability.

Angela’s hand drops to my saliva slickened rod, and starts aiming it for the mermaid’s vagina as if to say, “What are you waiting for.”

Gripping the redhead’s hips, I move her fully on top of me and moan as I feel her hips start to move. Her wet slit slides up and down my pole as she moans in frustration that I’m not inside her already. Angela gets the angle just right and the next time she slips back, my head penetrates her tight hole, conforming to her inner constriction and sliding in deeper. Her vagina grips my meat in a confining grasp. I involuntarily hunch my hips, wanting to go even farther into her delightful depths.

Angela pulls away from me, but my attention is immediately pulled back to Brooke as she mashes her lips to mine, her tongue diving into my mouth and demanding attention. Her hips pick up a frantic rhythm, resulting in a constant
squelch, squelch, squelch
noise.

“Oh, Lyden,” she gasps, throwing her head back and moaning in delight. I use the opportunity to latch onto one of her tiny tits, suckling the small but hard nipple between my lips, and nipping lightly at the rubbery tip with my teeth.

Suddenly she freezes, gasping loudly, an odd sensation rippling through her vaginal walls. Letting go of her areola, I look around Brooke’s slender body to see Angela behind her. By her movements, I realize she must have at least a couple fingers in the mermaid’s anus. Brooke cranes her neck to look as well, and I can see her considering the situation. Angela doesn’t stop her stimulation however. I watch as her constant ministrations win through and Brooke moans. Her eyes roll back and her hips returning to their frenetic pace.

It only takes her a few seconds before her cunt grips my pole, and I feel her love fluids slipping out around my penis.

Angela pulls her off me, and I watch as she pulls her fingers out and drives Brooke’s orgasm even higher by diving in and tasting the redhead’s lower lips.

Carefully, I slip out from under Brooke and move around behind the blue-haired punk. Dropping to my knees behind her, I glide right into the ready and willing succubus. Once again our sex organs strive to conform to the other, writhing and undulating with each adaptation, adding a whole other sensation to our love-making.

I grip her hips, pulling out except for the tip before shoving back into her, my pelvis slapping against her ass cheeks. She grunts at the impact, driving her face further into Brooke’s crotch. After a couple of pounding thrusts, Brooke loses her balance and falls forward. With her usual agility, she rolls over. To my surprise, she grips a couple handfuls of the succubus’s short blue hair, and pulls her back between her legs.

This also pulls her off me, and I have to waddle forward to re-aim myself. I decide to go for her other hole, relishing the way her tight anus feels as it stretches around my sensitive tip. She wriggles her hips against me, allowing me to move deeper into her tight colon.

Brooke catches my eyes, and I see her smiling dreamily at me. Her fingers are still tangled in Angela’s hair, holding her in place. She pulls back on the handful of hair, and sits up enough to kiss the other woman.

I’m shocked at the change in Brooke, but I’ve verified that she is free of possession. She truly is changing, and of her own free will. Or is it because of the constant joining of our souls? As I think about it, I realize that the succubus’s soul has been mixing with the mermaid’s as well. I’m not entirely sure how I feel about that.

Angela’s insistent booty shake makes me realize that I’d stopped moving. I return to slipping in and out of her tight sphincter, making her moan into the women’s shared kiss, until the succubus’s colon grips me powerfully as she cums, her love juices dripping out of her cunny.

Brooke pulls away, but to my shock once more, I watch as she wriggles under the blue-haired punk, and a couple seconds later feel her tongue switch between my balls and Angela’s twat.

The whole surreal experience is too much for me, and I let loose my load, deep into Angela’s rear.

* * * *

The police station doors open on their own and I step through. My hands are sweaty, and I can feel my heart pounding as I walk up to the bulletproof glass. I’m not sure exactly why I’m so nervous, I can’t shake the feeling that things are about to go badly.

Why did I have to insist on coming here alone?

I shake my head to rid it of the paranoia gripping me.
Nothing is wrong, they just have a few questions
, I tell myself.
Aldol thinks I’m dead. I’m safe.

“Excuse me,” I say to get the police woman’s attention, “I—“

“Lyden Snow!” she exclaims as she looks at me. “Stay where you are, you’re under arrest!” A buzzer sounds and within moments, police officers, weapons drawn and pointed at my chest, surround me.

“Umm,” I state nervously, trying to swallow the growing lump in my throat, “I understand you wanted to talk to me?”

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Chapter 17

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The Daughter of Respite

How long are they going to keep me tied up in here
, I wonder for the umpteenth time. My wrists are handcuffed to a bar on top of a table; the chain connecting the circlets runs around the bar. The metal chair I’m sitting on doesn’t add to my comfort. I’m not sure how many hours I’ve been in here, but my rear is getting sore on the uncomfortable seat.

I hadn’t resisted when the gun-toting officers arrested me, but the way they’d reacted makes me think they believe me to be some sort of monster. They’d read me my Miranda rights, but otherwise haven’t said more than two words to me.

The big metal door on my right finally opens, and a very plain looking woman dressed sharply in a dark suit steps through. Her dark brown, nearly black hair is tied back tightly into a ponytail and her severe brown eyes seem to penetrate me to the very soul.

Speaking of which, how do I consider my soul? Do I have only one, or do I have many? A question for another time, I think as she sits across from me. Placing a manila envelope on the table, she glares at me. The mirror behind her lets me know that I’ve probably been under surveillance the whole while.

Minutes go by in silence as her dark eyes try to bore into me. I must be getting some of Angela’s ability to read intentions, because I know she’s waiting for me to crack and talk first.

I wait.

Growing bored, I try to use my ability to see someone’s past, but feel as if I’ve run into a brick wall. I don’t think she is actively blocking me, but rather that I’m still too weak after the ordeal last night with Becky and Aldol.

I wait some more.

My hands grow sweaty, and I have to consciously stop myself from tapping my foot with impatience. To occupy my mind, I begin having one-sided games with her. I stare into her eyes and try to guess how many lashes she has. After losing count for the fifth time, I try to count her freckles. I count forty-two. I try to examine every aspect of her face, and notice that one eye is slightly lighter in color than the other. Her left eye is still brown, but not as dark as her right. Both earlobes have only a single piercing, but are empty of earrings. Her eyebrows are thick and untrimmed, but are separate. Her nose is what I suppose they call a ‘button nose’ which sits above a thin set of lips. Her face is slender, leading down to a slightly pointed chin. Overall, it combines to make a very plain looking face.

“You’re a patient man, Mr. Snow.” Her voice actually startles me, and I see her grin at my jumpiness.

Dang it, I’d been playing the game so well!

I smile back, keeping my silence. Let her make of
that
what she will.

Her smile broadens. Apparently, she’s one of those women who neither gets prettier, nor uglier when she smiles, remaining constantly plain.

“It seems you’re quite the interesting man.” She opens up the manila envelope, and shoves something over to me. It stops in front of me, and I see that it’s a sideways picture of something that makes my mouth go dry. I can’t reach the black and white picture to straighten it out, but I don’t have to.

My face is easily visible in the sharp image. I recognize the surroundings of the impound lot where I’d broken the Orange Bubble free. Angela is tightly grasped in my arms as I hold her protectively. The worst part of the picture though, is me standing with my dark wings spread wide, my mouth open in an inaudible yell, and dogs just starting to turn and run in fear.

“I see you recognize it,” the woman says, satisfaction in her voice.

Drat! She’s good
, I realize, knowing I’m out-matched. I can’t give in yet though.

“Recognize it?” I say, trying to look calmly back at the woman. “Looks impressive. Who did the Photoshop work?”

Aggravatingly, her smile deepens. “Let’s dispense with this game, shall we?” Her voice is triumphant as she speaks. “We both know that is you. We both know that you somehow leaped over the fence with these wings and crashed your old-style Volkswagen Beetle through the front gate, driving away.” I keep quiet, and she seems to take that for assent. “What I’d like to know, is how you made those wings, and used them.”

Wait. . . . What? She doesn’t want to know why I broke my car out, or why I’m holding an unconscious woman in my arms?

Too late, I realize this must be another of her efforts to throw me off balance. She really
is
good.

I concentrate on her again, trying to read something from her, but only come away with her name. Well, it’ll have to be good enough. The only question now is how much of my hand to play, and how much to bluff.

“Agent Olsen—may I call you Miranda?—you wanted to dispense of games, let’s do so.” If she’s shocked by my knowledge of her name, it doesn’t show. “What do you really want to know?”

She regards me for a second, before reaching out and pulling the incriminating picture back. She doesn’t put it away, but instead pulls another picture out and lays it next to the first. It takes a bit of effort not to gulp as I see this one. The image isn’t as clear, but I’m still able to make out enough details to recognize the grocery store parking lot where the Myrmidon had attacked Jennifer and me. The fire ant creature is blowing fire at me, and I know that this is the moment of my car’s demise.

Another image follows, and I almost fail to stifle a groan. In this one, I’m lying on top of my car, wings out and draped down the side of my car as it drives away from my burning apartment building.

“You asked what I want to know, Mr. Snow,” her calm face actually breaks at the unintended rhyme, the corner of her mouth dipping just slightly. The crack in her façade lasts only a second, before she’s all cool business again. “It’s simple, really. I want to know what you are.” Her brown eyes pierce me again, and I have to look down at the images in order not to crack under their glare.