“Can I try something?” she asked quietly, like she was trying to hide it from an eavesdropping Skella. She lifted her hand again and slowly moved it toward me.
I instinctually moved back now that I knew she was a mage, not because of her face.
“I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to put my hand on yours,” her voice was calm.
It was a weird request, but I nodded my consent. She slowly brought her hand forward and placed it on top of mine. It was like a zap of static electricity shot through me, but different. First, it didn’t hurt and make me jerk my hand away in pain. Second, I had a glimpse of a raging inferno before the room resolved back to its previously dilapidated conditions.
“What the hell was that?” I asked, as she took her hand off mine.
“Oh yeah, you’re definitely a mage. A strong one too,” she smiled a nervous smile at me. “Did you see the fire?”
“Yes,” I replied tentatively.
“Good, our magics were able to identify each other’s. I’m an Ignis mage, but what I saw with you was a National Geographic montage. I’m not really sure what to make of it,” she shook her head, clearly confused.
“Night and Skella?” I asked.
“Caeli and Terra,” she replied with a nod.
“I guess it could be worse,” I thought. Life could be a lot worse than having three female mages looking after me. “Well . . . one,” the other two were reluctant at best, willing to dump me somewhere in Tijuana at worst.
The bathroom door opened with a slam, and Skella stalked out. “Gods . . . boundaries much, Butters,” she snapped, and glared at me like I was the problem. “I know your panties are soaked through right now, but we don’t know this guy, and we are not spending any more time playing babysitter,” she snapped.
“I know you want to play momma bear to the injured stud, but we came down here for your birthday so you could lose your V-card. By the way, great job at getting that dick. Hell, we tried to pay that one guy, and he still said no.”
As she ranted, Butters seemed to shrink further and further into herself. She crossed her arms protectively and squeezed tight, while she tried her best not to look at me. That pissed me off. Butters was the only one who’d been nice to me and hadn’t tried to leave me half-paralyzed in a seedy Mexican motel.
“Hey!” my voice boomed with strength I didn’t know I had. “How about you shut the fuck up before I fart and blow you away you fucking anorexic bitch.”
I knew I’d gone too far, but I didn’t care. Skella’s jaw dropped open in shock, and while Butters looked equally stunned, a small smile pulled at the edge of her mouth. Skella’s shock slowly shifted to anger. She looked like she was about to unleash hell on me when the door outside slammed open and Night came running in.
She was out of breath, and had soda spilled all down her front. “Hey,” she bolted the deadbolt and quickly moved away from the door. “So, I forgot to tell you guys something.”
Whatever she was about to say was cut off as something solid slammed into the door and nearly ripped it out of its frame.
Chapter 2
The lights flickered down the long, dark passageway. It was depressing, and the shadows seemed to push against the failing light like an army of darkness against the faint glimmers of hope. That was all by design. Prison wasn’t meant to be a trip to Margaritaville; especially for supernaturals.
The walls of the hallway were lined with thick steel doors. Unlike the jail at the supernatural courthouse in Las Vegas, they didn’t bother hiding the wards here. Interlocking runes and magical patterns were inlaid directly into the barriers, along the walls, and on just about anything that would keep their super-powered prisoners from escaping and wreaking havoc on society . . . and this was just the minimum-security wing.
The Victorville Federal Correctional Complex held some real baddies; an Anima mage that had enslaved the minds of nearly a hundred people to his will. He’d driven all his puppets mad in the end, forced many to commit suicide, while sending the remainders against the families of the law enforcement officers that brought him down. Those crime scenes made the Manson family look like the Partridge family. The bastard had been the textbook case the WRA and Response Division used to develop stringent guidelines for the Anima mage population.
Farther down the felony list from a mass murderer was a djinn that had led a group of eco-terrorists in an attempt to blow up the Hoover Dam. They failed, and the creature that was nothing like the MC from I Dream of Jeannie had been locked up behind something not even its part-spirit ass could escape.
Then, there were your run of the mill supremacists. They could be supernaturals who bought into the race war bullshit that many mundane humans still did. More often, they were shifters or vamps that thought they were the super race and everyone else should bow down to them. For these assholes, prison was like high school; people fucked in the showers, and they had their cliques in the yard. The only difference was, these cliques had built in weapons. Guards telling them not to shift or vamp out on people they thought of as less than dog shit didn’t go over well. Of course, the guards could pop some silver or UV liquid in a grenade, and really ruin their day.
You had your armed robbers, people in on assault and battery, rapists, and so on and so forth. Of course, like most prisons, you had people who probably shouldn’t be there. Guys on drug charges that might have landed them on parole except they were supernatural. The courts came down hard on people who had lots of power but didn’t care for the responsibility part. You had a little bit of everything, all the way down to one nineteen-year-old succubus that was in on an involuntary manslaughter charge for defending herself and her friends in a trial by combat. To supernaturals, her actions were acceptable under the covenants. To humans, they just didn’t understand.
The lights continued to flicker; creating a strobe effect halfway down the hallway. In fact, the lights were supposed to be motion activated down here. The prison authorities had vaulted their commitment to environmentally-sound policies, but reality had other ideas. Shit broke, and no one was paying to fix it. Past the flickering light, nearly at the end of the hall, a door like any other was locked tight; but if a guard got close enough, they might hear the moaning.
Beyond the door, encased in wards to contain her power, a young woman was fingerbanging the shit out of herself. Her eyes were half open in a self-induced dream state that offered an escape from the boredom of this place. It’s cliché, but what do you do in prison with all your free time. You fuck yourself.
***
In that young succubus’s mind, her door was not closed. It was the only door in the entire hallway that was partly ajar.
Slap . . . slap . . . slap echoed through the space, but no guard was on their way to investigate. Like most places, there were unwritten rules here. One of those rules was to not hit the alarm if the door sensor showed cell sixty-nine was open on Thursday nights. Someone made sure to watch the cameras and sensors in the hallway, but what happened in cell sixty-nine stayed in cell sixty-nine. The key to the fantasy was in the little details, and she’d had weeks to nail them down.
“Oh, fuck, you’re so tight. How are you so tight?” a familiar tone moaned as he continually thrust forward against an ass that just wouldn’t quit.
That ass was a perfect mix of strength, femininity, and bootyliciousness. There wasn’t a pimple scar, a bit of cellulose, a single stretch mark, or any sag; and it wasn’t because it was barely-legal ass. It was supernatural ass that was designed by a capitol G god to take dick.
Lilith Venitas, Princess of the Venetian Succubus Cabal, let the dream man slam his cock into her over and over again. She moaned at all the right times, and squeezed his dick in all the right ways, but her mind was elsewhere.
Since she was in prison, the dream was inevitably part fantasy, part nightmare.
“He could return the favor,” she thought as her nose scraped against the concrete and steel-reinforced walls of her cell.
/> Honestly, she was a little surprised at how tonight had turned out. Over her three-month sentence, she’d had fantasy after fantasy, and put a lot of time and effort into them. This wasn’t casual sex to her, it was dinner. The federal corrections system had guidelines for feeding succubae, and those guidelines said one feeding every week. Technically, that was enough to keep her alive, but that was the same as saying a human could live on a protein bar and bottle of water for three days. It was possible, but any sane creature would want to blow their own brains out rather than slowly waste away.
She missed Cam. She missed his smile, and the way he secretly looked at her ass when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. Hell, she even missed the way he checked out her mother’s ass. That was wrong on so many levels, but she didn’t know what she’d had until it was torn away from her.
She missed Vegas and all the trouble they got into together before shit started to go downhill. Behind these unhospitable walls, it hadn’t taken long for one thing to become crystal clear: Cam was the only one for her. It didn’t matter if she’d have to live off refrigerated spunk for the next few years. She truly appreciated whose spunk it would be.
She knew it didn’t make sense, and beyond that, it went against everything her family stood for. She’d talked with Cam before he vanished about needing to increase the size of her harem. That was what a good succubus was supposed to do; gather strong men around her to keep her fed and powerful. That was the way it had been since her mother laid down the unwritten rules of her kind. It needed to be that way so people didn’t hunt her kin.
“Wrong. It needs to be that way because Venus says so,” she corrected herself. Mother dearest had control issues on the best of days, and the last thing the succubus wanted was her own daughter bucking the rules.
The issue was, which anyone could see plain as day, was that Cam was different. A succubus couldn’t live off the frozen jizz of shifters. But Cam. Whatever the hell he was . . . damn. She licked her lips just thinking about his creamy filling.
Cam had valiantly said her banging other dudes for their seed was all fine and dandy; but she saw the twitch of his lips, and the hardness in his eyes. He was so not okay with it, but he cared for her, and she thought that meant going with the flow for the next three years.
The universe was unbearably cruel sometimes. She just wanted his dick. What was so hard about that? She’d finally found an incredible man, but she wasn’t naïve enough to confuse incredible with perfect. Cam had flaws, and some were glaring, but she could live with that. Hell, she could probably change him for the better; but that was future Lilith’s problem. In the here and now, she wouldn’t be able to fully be with him until she put on her big succubus panties.
“Fuck you, universe!”
She was ashamed to say she’d nearly gone through with her mother’s plan. She’d nearly caved to the pressure during that first week in Victorville. When the hunger clawed at her belly in a way she’d never experienced. At her lowest point, she’d gone through Venus’s little black book of dicks, picked out the one she wanted, and the literal stud showed up to fuck her six ways to Sunday. When the moment of truth arrived, she froze. Literally, she froze with a very large, hard cock about an inch from her pussy.
When push came to shove, when the metal met the road, when she needed to put her money where her mouth was; she pushed the guy out of the room before he could get his boxers back on. It made no sense. It was bat shit crazy. She wasn’t some vegan vamp. She wasn’t Gandhi on a hunger strike. She loved to eat. She loved sex, but she loved Cam more.
“Bastard,” she couldn’t help but smile when she imagined the little shrug and mischievous grin he’d give her if he was here.
He had her hook, line, and sinker. All she’d done so far was swallow his load, but that was the most glorious thing she’d ever tasted. Even the engorged shifter cocks her mother tried to force feed her in her first few weeks of incarceration, all approved by the cabal’s dick consultants, would taste like week-old sushi in comparison. Hell, even grinding up against Cam had gotten her hotter than a Fourth of July barbeque. Nothing could compete with him. She hated and loved the stupid bastard for what he’d done to her, and the position he’d put her in.
Predictably, Venus was not happy. It might be minimum security prison, but it was still full of supernaturals who’d flaunted the rules of society. She didn’t want her daughter weak and vulnerable. Make no mistake, that was exactly what Lilith was becoming by refusing to take someone else’s dick. Of course, Venus wasn’t necessarily worried about Lilith’s well-being. She just didn’t want the cabal to look bad. Whatever her true motivations, Venus had made the trip herself to talk some sense into her wayward daughter.
The result was a screaming match with excessive TMI. The guards, who guarded some truly terrible people in other parts of the prison, had been white faced and flinched at the sight of Venus when she stormed out. Lilith didn’t blame them. Her mother made Disney’s wicked stepmothers look like the wholesome girl next door.
Venus continued to tempt Lilith with willing and able young men each week; hoping she’d fall off the wagon. So far, it was Lilith nine, Venus zero. She hadn’t even taken the cup of cum one well-built mage had slipped her like he was trying to smuggle a sixteen-year-old a shot of bad whiskey at the bar. Instead, she threw it in the assholes face. If you want to upset a man, give them a facial with their own spunk. That’ll do the trick.
To avoid wasting away into nothing, she took it upon her dream self to find snacks in the meantime, and since she was built for this shit, it hadn’t been too hard for the fantasies to come to life.
There was only one problem. Even in her own dreams she still couldn’t have her way. Dreams were weird like that, and it seemed like every encounter resulted in her getting her pussy smashed as hard and fast as humanly possible. Even the dream version of the man she loved acted like if he could just find her G spot, then everything would be right with the world. That was the problem when she didn’t have anything good to work with. She’d never actually felt Cam’s cock inside her.
“It wouldn’t be that hard for him to reach around and rub my clit.” Wishful thinking filtered across her thoughts as dream Cam, in a guard’s uniform, continued to take her to pound town.
She just really hoped this time would be different. “Stupid brain!”
Tonight, she envisioned dream Cam all shy and vulnerable. So not the real Cam at all, but she had to mix things up to keep it fresh. He was still big and strong, but this time she’d truly believed that she imagined him doing more than repeatedly slamming his cock into her.
“They always say it’s the shy ones you have to watch out for. That’s such bullshit,” she gave a mental sigh. “Focus, Lilith,” if she didn’t, this was all going to be for nothing.
“Harder, baby, harder,” she moaned, and dream Cam responded like a horse she’d just kicked with her spurs.
It wouldn’t be prison unless she was in handcuffs, and with Cam playing guard, it was the one thrill of the entire encounter. He had her standing, doggystyle, with her arms handcuffed behind her back. The only thing that kept her from falling to the ground was him holding her by the handcuff links to keep her upright. The sense of almost falling produced that little extra sensation that made the fucking just a hint more than the usual pounding.
“I’ll give it to you harder,” dream Cam seemed to be talking to himself as much as her. Real Cam would have said something a lot sexier.
“Or, at least I hope he would.”
Come to think about it, she had a hard time remembering if Cam was able to form coherent words when she sucked him off.
With one hand still holding her handcuff links, he snaked his other up and seized her throat. “Interesting, I’m not usually into autoerotic asphyxiation” she mused as dream Cam squeezed, and let go of the cuffs. Now, the only thing that kept her from falling face first into the wall was his grip on her neck.
With his free hand, he g
rabbed a handful of her left tit, and started to fuck her harder. “Yes,” she wheezed as she felt the crude sensation of her man drawing closer to the end. “Cum in me baby. Cum in me hard.”
That was key, even in the dream state. If dream Cam didn’t cum in her, then all of this was for nothing. This was a technique a succubus could use to stay alive when in isolation from a food source. Embarrassingly, her mother had sent one of her older sisters to show Lilith how it was done. They’d met up in a private visiting room not long after the epic mother-daughter blowout. The queen succubus might be pissed, but she wasn’t going to let her daughter turn into a supernatural raisin. That was not the image of the Venetian Cabal she wanted to show the world, or a weakness she wanted exposed. One of the most tried and true ways to kill a succubus was to starve them to death.
Talk about awkward. Watching your older sister finger herself, and examining how she fed off the ambient sexual energy was next-level weird. It was a little like eating your own flesh to stay alive. Lilith was straight Donner Partying this shit.
She was mostly eating her own essence; but it was what she had to work with, and it was worth it. For Cam, and for her. She was starting to realize she didn’t want to be a carbon copy of her mother.
Venus vehemently disagreed with her daughter – about the worth-it part, not the carbon copy bit. Venus insisted this was all bullheaded stubbornness. She swore Cam was something Lilith could discard and come back to; like a seasonal jacket. To Lilith, that was total bullshit; so, she told her mother to go fuck herself and started ignoring her calls and letters. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out they weren’t talking much anymore. Men continued to arrive, and she continued to make them look like well-paid, well-hung fools.
“You should really stop thinking about your mother when you’re fingerbanging yourself,” her dream-self demanded she pay attention as dream Cam built toward his climax.
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