Succubus Lord 5

by Eric Vall

  “Our headquarters is ruined.” Oliver sighed. “We spent so much time and money to try to make this our new home.”

  “We would have had to move, anyway.” I tried to tease out the silver lining in this situation. “There’s not much point in having a secret headquarters if all the demons of the world know where it is, right?”

  “I suppose,” the old man admitted. “Actually, I have been eyeing that old warehouse down the road…”

  “That’s the spirit.” I smiled and gave Oliver a playful pat on the back.

  The man responded with a large grin of his own, and then he started to head back toward the office area of the building. “I’ve got so many ideas!” he muttered as he became more distant. “This is going to be so much fun.”

  “We can start searching for Uriel as soon as possible, but we might be a little bit delayed with the move and the cleanup and all that.” Jane brought us back on to the subject. “What are you guys gonna do?”

  I looked over at the rest of my friends and frowned.

  For once in my life, I had no idea what the fuck we needed to do.

  Chapter 6

  Wearing a tuxedo generally went a long way in improving my mood, and tonight was no different. I sat there at the massive round table, decked out in a jet-black tux complete with its own vest and bowtie. This was a black-tie affair, and Jacob Ralston was never one to come underdressed.

  Luckily for me, neither were any of my friends.

  Libidine sat directly next to me at the round table, and it was taking everything in my power to keep from gawking at her perfect and massive breasts. The succubus wore a sparkly silver dress that had a wide, plunging neckline. If it weren’t for the dress’s halter top, her delicious boobs would have been flopping out all over the place.

  Of course, I wouldn’t have complained if they were.

  Then there was Cupi. Surprisingly, the Sister of Greed had little to no interest in fashion, but she was still dressed to the nines. The fit succubus wore a tight red dress with an off-shoulder neckline that ran all the way down to her knees. It had the textured effect of a toga-style wrap around the chest and torso area, and then it spun out into a more flowing gown down below the belt. It was subtle but elegant.

  Meanwhile, Gula’s outfit was about as eye-catching as you could get. The redhead wore a vibrant white dress that contrasted amazingly with her warm hair color and ran all the way down to the floor. It was stylized so that it had what could only be described as an armor plating pattern all the way up and down the garment. To top it all off, Gula’s dress was covered with sequins that sparkled under the limelight.

  Tris sat directly across from me, and she looked like she couldn't care less. The Sister of Sloth didn’t even want to come tonight, so she just threw on the first outfit she found. Thankfully, the matte black dress that the tall succubus was wearing fit in perfectly with the rest of the patrons’ attire.

  Sia was right next to Tris, and the madame of the Circle of Sin was always one to keep it basic. The petite redhead was in a simple burgundy silk dress that dripped down her petite frame like a waterfall. It was held up by two spaghetti straps around her shoulders, and Superbia was constantly adjusting the fabric around her breasts so that she didn’t accidentally expose a nipple to all of Ira’s donors.

  “I still wish I could be in my real body, bro,” Todd mused from beside me. “I could totally rock this outfit with my super-sweet imp bod.”

  For obvious reasons, the imp was currently in his human form. He wore a shimmering maroon tuxedo with matching pants, all topped off with a black bowtie.

  Was it a little over the top? Yes. Was it Todd? Also yes.

  “You know why you can’t do that, bro,” I reminded my friend. “The last thing we want to do is embarrass Ira on the national stage.”

  We were currently sitting in the ballroom of the local Hilton and eagerly awaiting Ira to appear on stage and debate her political opponent, Bill Hoggins.

  “She’s totally gonna crush this guy,” Cupi whispered. “I’ve read that he’s a total pushover when it comes to the big issues.”

  “Oh, Ira is going to do much more than crush him,” Libidine added with a giggle. “She’s going to totally dominate him.”

  “She isn’t…?” I mused.

  Libidine’s violet eyes narrowed, and she nodded approvingly. “She is,” the succubus confirmed.

  “She’s busting out the dom?” Gula asked excitedly. “I can’t wait to see her destroy this asshole!”

  “Gula!” Sia hissed. “Must I remind you of where you are? Mind your language. We don’t need Ira’s donors thinking her friends are all uncivilized buffoons.”

  The Sister of Gluttony bowed her head in shame. “Yes, Superbia,” she muttered. “I’ll mind my tongue from here on out.”

  “She didn't mind her tongue yesterday.” Cupi snickered. “That’s for sure.”

  “Did she finally make the connection with Jacob?” Tris perked up at the thought. “I want to hear all about it. Did he fill you up with his massive warhammer? And more importantly, how much work would you say you put into it? Like, give me percentages.”

  “Shhh!” Sia reminded the brunette.

  The succubi all went silent, but they continued to look at each other coyly.

  “Sixty-forty,” Gula finally said with a giggle.

  “But who was the sixty?” Tris guffawed. “Please tell me it was him.”

  “This is torture, bro,” Todd gagged. “I’d almost rather have that spider-guy’s dick on my head again than listen to all of your sexual exploits in graphic detail.”

  “Dude.” I raised my eyebrow curiously.

  “No homo!” the imp in disguise caught himself. “Jesus, I almost forgot to say ‘no homo.’ What’s happening to me?”

  “It’s okay,” I promised. “You’ve been under a lot of stress lately. Now, who’s up for some champagne?”

  “Oh!” Libidine gasped. “Is that the bubbly stuff we had at the Excalibur? That drink was amaaazzing.”

  “That’s the stuff,” I confirmed and gestured for the server to come over. “Of course, it’s not going to be the high-end stuff like we had out there. This is a Congressional candidate debate for the state of Arizona. Not exactly an Earth-shattering affair.”

  One of the servers came over and filled each of our glasses with the clear, bubbly liquid. I handed him a generous tip, and then he sauntered away with an approving nod.

  I picked up my glass and held it in the air. “I propose a toast,” I started. “To Ira-- er, I mean, to Maggie!”

  Todd and the five succubi raised their glasses in unison. “To Maggie!” they all repeated, and then we kicked back our crystal flutes.

  The champagne may not have been the five-hundred-dollar stuff that we’d had back in Vegas, but it was still damn good. It had a sweet, fruity taste, and the bubbles tickled my throat all the way down.

  “My lord,” Tris gasped. “Is all Earth drink this delicious? I’ve just been knocking back PBR this whole time.”

  “PBR?” Todd asked. “You still have so much to learn, my young apprentice.”

  The seven of us finished our drinks and then continued to chat for a few minutes. Although I was paying attention to what my friends were all saying, I was having a very hard time focusing. According to the spider-demon, one of our closest allies had betrayed us. Even though I knew it couldn’t possibly have been one of the succubi, I still occasionally allowed my mind to wander to those thoughts.

  And, like clockwork, I’d instantly knock some sense back into myself. These women all loved me. In fact, they’d probably worship me if I let them. They’d all go to Hell and back to make me happy, and I would do the same for them.

  Meanwhile, Todd had been my best friend since elementary school. He was the one who came up with the idea to summon the succubi in the first place, and he always had my back.

  I was one-hundred percent confident that it wasn’t anyone at this table.

 
; Even with my closest allies eliminated, there were still some disturbing options on the table. What if it was Jane or Oliver? They surely missed the freedom that they had when they had full control of the cult, but I doubted that meant they wanted to kill me.

  “Jacob?” Sia’s voice brought me back to the here and now. “Are you alright?”

  “Huh?” I asked in a daze and then realized what had happened. “Sorry. I’m just kinda distracted right now.”

  “Damn,” Tris whistled. “What did you do to him last night, Gula?”

  “A lady never kisses and tells.” Gula stuck her tongue out at her sister. “You’ll just have to find out for yourself.”

  “And do forty percent of the work?” the brunette succubus shot back. “I’ll have to think about that one.”

  “I can assure you, Tristitia,” Sia said as she placed a slender hand on Tris’ shoulder. “It is quite worth it. Every. Single. Second.”

  “Wow,” Tris mused. “That means a lot coming from you, Superbia.”

  “I know it does,” the madame retorted with a smile. “That’s why it’s so important that I’m the one that tells you. Make the connection with Jacob, Tristitia. Not only will it make us all stronger, but it will also be a night that you’ll never forget.”

  “Especially when there are multiple people involved,” Cupi added with a smirk. “Those are simply the best.”

  “Shhhh!” Todd hissed. “Ira’s about to take the stage.”

  Libidine smiled at the imp tenderly. “You just want us to stop talking about sex, don’t you?” She giggled. “I’m sorry if your virgin ears can’t handle it.”

  “Whoa, whoa!” The imp in disguise shook his head in disgust. “Don’t mistake my disgust for ignorance, dudette. The Toddster is a first-class sex machine, crafted by the finest German mechanics in the heart of a dying star and sent down to Earth to bestow his elegant seed upon the women of this realm.”

  “Ew,” Cupi muttered under her breath.

  “Oh yes, I, the Toddster, may as well be the subject of a James Brown song,” he continued. “I’m just a little weirded out by the image of my best friend playing bump-n-go with the rest of my best buddies. That’s all.”

  “Awww,” Sia cooed as she put her hand on her chest. “You consider us your best friends, Todd?”

  The humanish imp just shrugged. “Well, duh,” he joked with a wink. “Who else is there?”

  “You are too kind,” the madame said with a smirk.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” an older, white-haired man in a suit announced from the stage. “Welcome to the debate for the 7th congressional district of the great state of Arizona. My name is Jim Acostas, and I’ll be your moderator.”

  A round of weak claps arose from throughout the room.

  “But I know you guys aren’t here for me.” He awkwardly chuckled. “Without further ado, let’s bring out our candidates. First, the man who has been an Arizonian his entire life and prides himself on the wholesome family values of the middle-class American family. Please welcome, Bill Hoggins!”

  The crowd erupted with applause, and Ira’s opponent walked out onto the stage. He was a middle-aged man with dusty brown hair that was graying at the tips and combed over to hide a not-so-subtle bald spot. He was wearing a dark gray suit with a white shirt underneath and a brilliant red tie around his neck. Completing Hoggins’ outfit was a lapel pin on his jacket that was shaped like the state of Arizona and featured the colors of the American flag.

  “Ah,” Todd observed. “I see he’s wearing the ‘Political Dominatrix’ outfit.”

  “Political Dominatrix?” I questioned. “Do I even want to know?”

  “Yeah, bro,” Todd explained. “It’s totally the standard outfit of politicians. I call it that because the people that wear it like to put it on while they fuck us senseless.”

  “Is that what being a politician is?” Tris asked, surprised. “No wonder Ira was always so engaged with Marvin Franklin’s campaign.”

  “It’s a metaphor.” I sighed. “Like, the politicians are fucking over the people.”

  “I’m not using a metaphor,” Todd argued. “They’re literally fucking us in a bareback, raw-dog, ‘bite the pillow’ sort of way.”

  “That sounds right up Ira’s alley.” Tris nodded in agreement.

  “And now, Mr. Hoggins’ opponent,” the moderator interrupted. “Former wife of Marvin Franklin, the man who used to represent the seventh district, Maggie Franklin!”

  The crowd applauded for Ira but not nearly as much as they had for Hoggins. To make up for the lack of enthusiasm, Todd, the succubi, and I all made sure to hoot and holler as loudly as we could when our friend took the stage.

  Ira was wearing a tight-fitting but very elegant woman’s suit with matching black high heels. Underneath the garment was a ruffly white shirt that accented the centerline of her perfectly shaped hourglass body. The succubus was also wearing an Arizona-shaped lapel pin on her jacket, and she strutted out onto the stage looking as radiant as ever. There was a certain aura of confidence that surrounded Ira, and it drew the attention of everyone in the room.

  Just by the way she was walking, I could tell that she was in her dom form, and she had come ready to play.

  And Ira played very rough.

  Ira and Hoggins did the ceremonial shaking of hands, but it didn’t seem to end. The succubus was grinning widely, and her opponent looked like he was trying half-smiling, half-grimacing as their interlocked hands continued to move up and down. Ira finally released her grip, and Hoggins pulled away with a hand that looked like it had just gone through the wringer.

  She was fucking with this guy right out of the gate.

  The first few questions were your typical political softballs. The whole “why do you think you’re the best candidate,” “what would you do for the people of Arizona” kind of stuff.

  Hoggins and Ira both answered truthfully with their own similar-yet-different political buzzwords, and it was quite uneventful.

  That was until it came to the million-dollar question.

  “So,” the moderator turned to Ira, “our next question comes from one of your potential constituents here in Phoenix. They ask, ‘Ms. Franklin, your husband, was an adamant supporter of Proposition Sixty-Six, which he claimed would put public lands back into the hands of the American people who so very desperately needed them. You, on the other hand, shot down the bill the second your husband’s scandal came out and he went AWOL. Why did you do it, and how can the people of Phoenix trust you not to flip-flop on sensitive issues?’”

  “That is an excellent question,” Ira leaned in close to the microphone. “Now, this may come as a shock to you, but my ex-husband and I didn’t always see eye-to-eye on a lot of things.”

  The crowd laughed at Ira’s tongue-in-cheek joke.

  “In all seriousness, Proposition Sixty-Six was never a good idea,” she explained. “It led to plenty of arguments between the two of us, and it further fractured our already-struggling marriage. I was able to get the bill reversed by doing what I do best, by keeping my finger on the pulse of the American people and telling Congress what they wanted.”

  Claps rang out across the ballroom, and Ira nodded smugly.

  “Mr. Hoggins?” the moderator continued. “Your rebuttal?”

  “Thank you, Jim,” Hoggins breathed into his microphone. “I’d just like to remind the ‘American people’ that Ms. Franklin was on the public record supporting the bill. It’s not like she was simply giving her husband lip service. In fact, Ms. Franklin here even gave a rousing speech on the floor of the House about how important it was for our public interests to have this bill passed.”

  He took in a breath that was almost a snort before continuing. “If my opponent really has changed her mind on this issue, it is quite troubling. Because one, if she was truly for the bill and then changed her mind the second her husband left her, how can she be trusted to not make other reckless, emotional decisions? On the other hand, if
what Ms. Franklin says was true, and she was against this bill the entire time, then she has proven herself to be a master of lies and deception. Either way, she’s not the person we need in charge of this district.”

  The entire crowd erupted with cheers, and the dom’s eyes narrowed. I knew that look. She was about to go in for the kill.

  “I’d like to throw in a quick rebuttal if you don’t mind, Jim,” Ira asked.

  The moderator nodded, and then the succubus turned to her opponent.

  “I’m going to tell you all a little story about this so-called ‘flip-flopping,’” she began. “Long ago... is two years long ago? Probably in the eyes of a politician, it is. Anyway, a long time ago, there was an up-and-coming young man who wanted to get into politics. He was a recent college graduate with a Master’s in political science, and he desperately needed a job. Of course, being a new grad, he had no experience, and nobody would hire him. So what does he do? He’s young. He’s in the prime of his life. He’s got a semi-decent body. Naturally, he slips off to Nevada. The Sin City, to be precise.”

  As Ira spoke, the color drained from Bill Hoggins’ face.

  “Las Vegas,” the dom continued. “The place where anybody can make it rich and famous. So what, I ask, did this young man do? He started to work as a ‘private contractor’ in the sex industry.” Ira extended her slender finger accusingly at her opponent. “That’s right. The man you see here before you was a male prostitute.”

  “Jim,” Hoggins interrupted, “I don’t see how this is relevant--”

  “Oh,” Ira chuckled, “it’s very relevant, Bill. Now, I’m a proud proponent of free love and feminism and all that, so I really don’t give a damn what two consenting adults do in the privacy of their own home.” The dom leaned in closer to the microphone and frowned. “But that’s not the reason I bring this up,” she whispered.

  “Jim, can we move on to the next question?” Hoggins asked as sweat now poured down his face.

  The moderator completely ignored the politician’s words and nodded for Ira to continue.