The Generator: The Succubae Seduction

by J. Sselxuyt

  A large ovoid shaped hole punctures the right side of the cave wall. Through it are a large number of big hairy creatures. Muscles bunch as hammers are raised, and then brought down on various things creating the unpleasant clamor. Their bulk is greater than the orcs that’d captured Angela and me, but their skin, barely visible under the thick mat of their hair, is a rich bronze color. Their humanoid faces could be taken for rather ugly men, if not for the large single eye in the middle of their foreheads.

  Something tugs the sleeve of my shirt. I turn to see Angela trying to pull me along. Suddenly very anxious to get moving again, I put my feet back in motion.

  When the clamoring of their hammers is well behind us, I speak up again. “Those were the creatures that fixed my car?”

  The succubus shudders, but nods her head. I remember Brooke saying that they exact a heavy price for their work, and while I’m tempted to find out what she had to pay, another part of me decides I’m better off not knowing. For a demonic creature of sex, there can be only one real coin for payment.

  In less than a few minutes later, we arrive at a wooden door. A large brass knocker sits above eye-level, cast in the shape of a snarling wolf’s head.

  “Let me do the talking,” she says, before turning and using the knocker. Eerily, there is no sound as the brass ring strikes the wood, but the door opens a couple seconds later.

  Angela leads the way, and I have to force my legs to carry me after her. Beyond the door is not what I expect to see. Lush carpets adorn the walls, except where various heads are mounted. Some are recognizable, like the roaring lion’s head or the saber-toothed tiger with fear filled eyes. There is even an orc’s head mounted next to a Cyclops’s cranium. The one with both an elephant’s trunk and a pig’s snout on the other hand is new to me.

  A human skull sits white on a wooden table. Around the table are three large-backed reddish chairs. Only two of them are empty. Curled up in one is a wolf-like creature, with large feathered wings folded against its back and a serpent’s tail.

  The beast raises its head as we approach and gazes at us with sharp golden eyes.

  “Marchosias,” The blue-haired punk says, addressing the monster, “I see you were expecting us.”

  The thing growls at her, before its outlines become fuzzy. It morphs into the shape of a robed man. His head is hidden behind a cowl, but when he speaks, his voice is deep, and sounds familiar. “I always know what happens in my domain.” The cowl turns to face me, and I can feel the demon’s gaze wash over me. “So this is the young man in question,” he states, rather than asks. “Yes, I can sense a great deal about him. You know you really should have come to me first, instead of the Pillar of Fire. She’s been a little. . . unhinged lately.” The succubus stays quiet. I don’t think I could talk if words were put into my mouth. “What a delicious treat you’ve brought me, Angelica.”

  My heart pounds as the large creature approaches me. I can sense how powerful this being is and shudder in response.

  “We’re here to seek your help rescuing a friend of ours from Varun,” Angela speaks up. I sigh in relief as Marchosias turns away from me.

  “Another Pillar that has become unsteady lately,” he says sadly. “What you ask for is no small thing.” He returns to his seat and indicates for us to sit. I wait for Angela to be seated, before I follow suit. “But I suppose you already have experience rescuing people and escaping from the demesne of one of our benevolent pillars.” Derision is thick in his tone as he speaks of the creators of this world. “What aid can I offer you?”

  “We have two others with us. The three of them will need to be able to breathe while in Varun’s home,” Angela says calmly, and my respect for the woman increases. My legs are shaking so bad, that I’m thankful I’m sitting. How does she stay so relaxed?

  Marchosias laughs loudly for a few seconds, before replying. “The two human women in this mortal’s car? That is easy enough, but this man doesn’t need my help with that.”

  I really wish I could figure out who he sounds like. I feel like I should know, but I can’t seem to put my finger on it.

  Angela stares at me for a moment before evenly replying. “He has some of my skills, but I don’t think he is able to give himself gills.”

  “Just so, he will be fine under the water.” There is no mistaking the mirth in his voice. He turns his attention back to me, and I feel my shaking increase. “What you need is through that door, mortal, but I warn you: grab only the two blue vials on the table in the very back. Have your playthings drink from them, and they will be able to breathe underwater for as long as they stay conscious. Should they sleep, the potion will wear off and they will drown. Take anything else, and the consequences will be dire.”

  I don’t think I want to know what Marchosias considers ’dire.’

  “Go ahead,” the hidden demon encourages me. “The succubus and I have some things to discuss.”

  Standing, I look to Angela. “Will you be fine out here?” I ask.

  Marchosias roars with laughter, startling me and making me want to run for the door. I’d rather face the entire room of Cyclopes than stay in here with the demon a moment longer, but I won’t abandon my friend.

  “The mortal has balls!” he croaks when he can get enough air into his lungs. “I can smell the fear pouring from your skin, yet you offer to protect her from me. Run along now, little thing. I mean her no harm, you have my word on that.”

  “He is honorable,” Angela vouches for him. I’m still not sure, but Angela nods to me and I head for the indicated door.

  Despite my Generator abilities, I feel so small compared to all the supernatural creatures in this world. No wonder humans rebelled against them. Even with Angela’s assurances, I’m terrified.

  The knob turns easily, and the door swings open on silent hinges. With one last look, I turn to Angela, but her back is turned to me. Taking a deep breath, I step through into a long hallway.

  Shelves line the walls filled with more things than I can identify. I easily see why he warned me not to take anything else, though. A stack of gold bullion sits on one shelf next to what I assume is a diamond the size of my foot. Riches aren’t the only things in here, either, though I’m certain that everything has some sort of value. There is a mint condition, first edition of Action Comics with Superman, sitting next to a sword, its tang exposed and the slightly curved blade made of something shinier than chrome that exudes power. Ancient scrolls sit beside a pile of straw, which calls home beneath a. . . .

  Did something just move? I almost reach for the sword, something in it drawing me to its brilliant surface, but remember just in time not to touch anything else. Why didn’t I think to get some kind of weapon before coming to the Shadow World? Some rescuer I am!

  A small noise catches my attention, and I turn to see what’d made it.

  My eyes light on one of the glowing orbs, but I can’t see anything that would make a noise. I watch the orb for a couple more seconds, but give up. I need to get the vials and get out. This place is giving me the creeps.

  “Please,” the voice is soft, and I barely hear it, but it catches my full attention.

  “Who?” I ask, turning back to the globe.

  A small creature walks around the light, its right hand brushing the glowing orb’s surface. This is a creature I recognize immediately, with its tiny golden butterfly wings and lithe form covered in a slim golden dress. Her golden hair hangs down to her shoulders, framing a delicate, but pretty face.

  “You’re a fairy!” I exclaim.

  “Darn it!” she pouts, stamping her tiny foot. “I was hoping for a smarter hero. This one’ll never do.” She tries to fold her arms, but it’s then that I realize her hand isn’t resting on the glowing light, but stuck to it.

  “You’re stuck,” I say before I can think better of it.

  “Wow! You must be a genius of your kind,” she says, her golden eyes going wide in feigned admiration.

  Feeling my ire rising
at her condescending tone, I state, “Odd to hear such comments coming from a four inch fairy stuck to a light bulb. I’m sorry I disturbed your rest. I’ll be out of your hair soon enough.”

  I turn to head deeper into the hallway, but she stops me.

  “Wait! You can’t just leave me here! Do you know what he does to poor innocent fairies like me? What kind of a hero are you?” She gives a cute little shudder, but I don’t buy it.

  “Poor and innocent? You must be taking me for a bigger fool than you look right now. Besides, I’m no hero. Hero’s tend to die at the end of their stories.” Okay, I know I shouldn’t treat her like that, but she started it!

  To my surprise, she actually starts laughing. Has she gone mad?

  “Oh, I like you,” she says after a moment, then seems to examine me. “What are you, exactly? You look like a human, but that’s impossible. No one would be dumb enough to bring any humans to this world, much less to that demon’s home. So what are you? A werewolf? Not many vampires come this way, and you don’t have that aura around you anyway. . . .” No one would be dumb enough to bring a human here, but I brought two. What does that make me?

  “I’m a Generator,” I tell her calmly, trying to keep my cool.

  “A Generator? No way! I thought they’d been wiped out. That’s so cool!” She grows silent for a moment, and the quiet gets uncomfortable. “So, umm, you gonna rescue me, or what?”

  “And risk Marchosias’s wrath?” I ask, thinking about the scary being out there talking to Angela.

  “I’ll make it worth your while,” she tells me, shaking her hips suggestively.

  This time, it’s my turn to laugh. “Ha, I’ve heard plenty of stories about fairies and their tricks. How do I know this isn’t another one?”

  “Oh drat!” she pouts as she stamps her foot prettily. She seems to think for a couple moments, before saying, “I can give you my word three times.”

  The way she states that so matter-of-factly makes me think that her statement should make perfect sense to me. It doesn’t, but I pretend as if it does.

  “Go ahead,” I say, folding my arms and nodding my head.

  She grimaces at me, like I just asked her to do the impossible. She still fills her lungs and says firmly, “I promise to reward you after you rescue me, without any tricks. I promise to reward you after you rescue me, without any tricks. I promise to reward you after you rescue me, without any tricks. Thrice said and done. There! Now get me out of here.”

  “Okay, now how do you propose I do that?” I ask. I know she didn’t say exactly how she’d reward me, but she did promise no tricks. “I have no intention of replacing you on that orb, and it’s not like you and it will fit in my pocket.”

  From out of nowhere, she produces a minuscule blade. Well, miniscule compared to me. For her, it looks like more of a short sword.

  “You said you’re a Generator, right?” She waits for my nod before continuing. “So you can heal me?”

  “Yeah, but—“ I try to protest, but she cuts me short.

  “I’ll cut off my hand, you heal me and we get away.” Her words make sense, but she doesn’t know what she’s asking for.

  “It doesn’t work like that!” I hurriedly say as she raises her left hand to lop off the right one. Thankfully she stops and looks at me, an annoyed expression painted across her cute little features. “The only way I can heal is through sex. I can’t just send the energy to you.”

  She covers her mouth in a shocked expression, her sword clattering to the tabletop. “You’re one of those!” she exclaims, and the way she says it, makes it sound like I’m the biggest lecher in the world. She quickly recovers her blade and points it at me. “You stay away from me. I’m not that big of a fool. You’re not going to get my maidenhead that easily, monster.”

  “You don’t understand!” I say, frustration building in me, but I’m trying not to be loud enough to be heard by the demon or Angela. “I’m not trying to take anything from you.”

  “Ha! You almost had me believing that the prophecies were coming true. As if a Generator could exist after centuries of being extinct.” Scorn fills her words now, and I just shake my head. What prophecies is she talking about?

  I have more important things to worry about right now.

  “Fine, stay here. I don’t know you, and I don’t owe you anything. I came in here to get something to rescue my friend. You’ll have to get the next hapless hero who wanders in here to help you.” Turning away, I look down the hallway and see the table with a number of vials on it. “You’re not worth me risking my life for, anyway.” Okay, so that last is a lie. I know I can’t just abandon her to the demon outside, but I can’t stand the way she constantly belittles me either.

  Walking away, I’m surprised that she doesn’t say anything to stop me. I reach the table in short order and groan. Vials of various colors are spread across the table. Some are bubbling, though I can see no source of heat, some glow, while others seem to absorb the light. I have no idea which two vials I’m supposed to grab. Oh, sure, I know I’m supposed to get the blue ones, but which ones are blue? There are days I really wish I weren’t colorblind!

  I know I need to go back and ask for help, but then I hear the fairy sobbing, and realize that I can use her without losing face.

  Walking back to the diminutive figure, I find her on her knees, head bowed and right hand still on the orb. Her short sword lies in her lap, and I can just make out the sound of her crying.

  “Tell ya what,” I say, startling her, “I need your help. Promise to help me, and I’ll figure out some other way to get you free.”

  “How?” She lifts her head to look at me. I can see the marks her tears have left on her cheeks. “Only the demon can release me from this trap, or I have to lose my hand. This is my fighting hand, and I won’t give it up, but neither will I surrender my maidenhead to you. It’s hopeless.”

  It takes a great effort of will not to try and comfort the little lady. The sword in her lap helps me hold back.

  “We don’t have to completely have sex,” I tell her. “I just need to get off with your help. You can keep your maidenhood. I just need to borrow your eyes for a second.”

  “My . . . eyes?” she asks, horrified.

  “Not like that! I’m colorblind. I need to know which two vials over there are blue,” I explain, and see her visibly relax.

  “I still think you’re a pervert, and if you’re lying to me I’ll make you pay.” She brandishes her thin blade at me, emphasizing her point. The way she does it, however, shows me that she isn’t very experienced with her left hand. “But if it will get me out of here, then I’m willing to give it a try. How do you propose I help you?”

  I blink, realizing that this is going to be a problem. At about four inches tall, she can’t exactly give me a blowjob, and I don’t particularly care to get my cock that close to the orb anyway. I don’t think even my size changing prick will accommodate her tiny kisser. I don’t think we have time for me to fall asleep to enter her mind.

  I remember the first night Becky and I had been together, and how I had received energy from Lisa as she’d masturbated while watching us. Could it work the other way? Wow, I am a pervert!

  “You’re going to need to masturbate,” I tell her, feeling my cheeks go red at the request.

  One delicate eyebrow rises at my words, but she just mumbles the word, “Pervert,” before sitting back down and lifting the hem of her golden skirt with her left hand. She’s wearing nothing underneath, and I watch as she glares at me while her free hand goes to cover her crotch. I can just make out a tuft of golden hair above her tiny slit, before her hand covers it. She glares up at me. “Pervert,” she mutters again, but she begins to move her fingers from side-to-side. Her eyes never leave mine, even when I unzip my pants and pull out my own member.

  Despite the atmosphere in here, I’m already hard as I begin stroking my length.

  “Is this what you wanted to see?” she demands, heat
in her voice. “Did you want to watch me play with myself, while you stroke yourself? Do you like humiliating little fairies like this?” Despite her words, I notice her hand picking up speed, and her eyes dropping to my man-meat occasionally. “Maybe if I spread myself wide for you, it will help with your perverted nature, and we can end this sooner.” She matches words to actions, and I watch as she uses two fingers to spread her lips, showing me the delicate canal inside. Despite her behavior, I can easily see that she’s wet and enjoying herself.

  I only grunt in response, not wanting to take my eyes off her.

  “Not enough?” she demands, and though it sounds like she’s angry, I can see a smile in her eyes. “Maybe I need to expose my chest to you as well.” She’s able to slip the strap of her dress off her left shoulder, but with her hand still stuck to the light, she leaves the other strap up. It’s enough to bare one breast, though, and I watch, enjoying the way she twiddles her fingers around her already stiff nipple.

  I pick up the pace on my own member, moaning softly to let her know that I’m getting close. Is it just me, or is this hallway getting brighter?

  “Still not enough?” she asks, but ruins it with a slight moan. “I guess I’m going to have to get really depraved.” Leaving her breast exposed, she returns her hand to her pussy, using her pointer finger and pinky to spread her labia, she drives her middle two fingers inter her noticeably dripping snatch. Her eyes close slightly as her head drops back, and she furiously moves her fingers in and out. She can’t deny she’s enjoying this anymore as moan after moan escapes her, and when the energy from her orgasm starts to wash over me, I finally reach my own climax.

  Hoping it will help, I aim my first shot at her, and it almost knocks her over as it blasts into her chest.

  Her head snaps up as my second string arcs its way to her, and quicker than my eyes can follow, she grips her small sword and swings it at her right arm. Her scream is barely muffled as the sharp blade rips through her flesh. She gets her stump up in time to catch the third volley on it, grunting again at the force of the impact. To my orgasm-fuzzed surprise, she even begins to scoop up my spunk and shovel it into her mouth.