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After days of a strange sexual reawakening, Rachel Wainwright finally meets the reason for the wonderful change in her life. Althea Carpenter is a succubus who has been forced to take up residence in her mind. As she explains her history, and that of the succubi, Rachel is filled with sympathy for her plight, and agrees to help her regain her previous form.Meanwhile, the spell of the succubus is having an effect on other members of Rachel's household. Rachel's son Alex finds love and acceptance in Maria's arms. And Rachel's daughter Sarah is being drawn to a new man in her life. Will they find happiness together? One thing is certain. When you look into the eyes of a succubus, you may see some...Dark Reflections.~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~With a start, Rachel opened her eyes. She was lying on her back. The covers had been pulled down to lie in a crumpled heap at the foot of the bed. Morning sunlight poured through the open windows, and the cotton curtains swayed in a soft spring breeze. More importantly, her husband was kissing her. From the warm feeling in her chest and groin, he had been arousing her for some time.“Well, this is a wonderful way to wake up,” she murmured softly. She smiled down at her long-time lover and best friend. “Looking for someplace to hide your morning wood?” she teased.Josh raised himself on his arms, moving forward so he could give her another good-morning kiss. “Amazing thing, the male body,” he said, when their lips parted. “No matter how many times you make love to a beautiful woman, it can't wait to do it again.”She smiled at the compliment, looping her arms around his neck and drawing him down to her. How long had it been since they had spent a lazy morning in bed? Years, perhaps. For the first time in far too long, there were no urgent needs driving her. No cases to prepare for, no witnesses to depose, no briefs to write and file. If she and Josh wished, they could spend all day in bed.~Ooh, that sounds nice. Yes, let's do that.~ Althea said.Be quiet, you, Rachel said. Can't you leave me alone for a while?~Actually, no. I can't. That's kind of the point of this whole exercise, isn't it? And just remember, the more you make love to Joshua, the quicker you will have the mental privacy you desire. Until then, get used to having company.~She dragged her nails up his back, tickling her husband, watching through hooded lids as his back arched under her touch. God, I've missed this. The feeling of power, even when he's on top of me, seemingly in control.~Being a woman is wonderful, is it not? At least, when you control your own destiny. This is why my mother spurned Adam and God. She would not allow herself to become subordinate. A tool to be used.~Tell me, she asked, is this thing with our secretions...catching? If Jeremy makes love to another woman, would she be affected?~What, are you worried about mankind catching a case of universal horniness, as if it were some sort of awesome venereal disease?~ Althea's voice was teasing. ~Fortunately, no. It would have happened way before now. We are a lusty bunch, although there aren't many of us. You don't have to be worried about being Patient Zero in the great Sex Plague of 2016.~
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Part Three of The Succubus
By Alana Church
Artwork by Moira Nelligar
Copyright 2016 Alana Church
~~ All characters in this book are over 18. ~~
Our story so far...
In “Idle Hands,” Althea, first among the succubi, was torn from her body by a foolish mortal. In desperation, she sought refuge in the mind of Rachel Wainwright, a successful attorney. Weakened by the ordeal, Althea knows the only way to return to her own body is to restore her power, which she receives by tapping into the sexual pleasure of others.
With this in mind she begins a slow seduction of her host, nudging Rachel towards a more sexually adventurous lifestyle. At the end of “Idle Hands” she has seduced her intern, Jeremy Edwards, and has also attempted a reconciliation with her former husband, Joshua. Meanwhile, her children find her attitude towards them softening, as Rachel becomes resigned to the fact that Sarah wishes to attend culinary school, while Alex wants to become an actor.
The story continues in “The Devil's Playthings.” In a heroic courtroom scene, Rachel makes an impassioned argument for the future of the earth in a case involving corporate pollution. In a stunning verdict, the polluters are fined an astronomical sum, one third of which will go to Rachel's law firm. She decides to use her bonus to semi-retire from her work as an attorney, instead choosing to do pro bono work as she sees fit.
At the same time, dark urges are beginning to manifest in Rachel's home. Driven by a compulsion she cannot explain, she makes a full-time job offer to her maid, Maria, with the caveat that she must dress attractively around the house. Maria, for her part, looks on the offer (with a substantial increase in salary and the prospect of a rent-free apartment above Rachel's garage) as the answer to her prayers. When her husband, Joshua, returns home, he finds his daughter, Sarah, strangely flirtatious. The only person who seems immune thus far is Alex.
During dinner one night, Rachel and Joshua agree to let the kids pursue their career goals without interference. Sarah will attend culinary school. With the help of his parents' connections, Alex will transfer from his dead-end community college into the theater department at Northwestern University.
“The Devil's Playthings” ends with Rachel and Joshua reconciling. Driven by admiration of Josh's artwork, which graphically depicts their love for each other, including the night Alex was conceived, Rachel performs oral sex on him. Later that night, they make love for the first time in months. At the moment of her orgasm, Rachel falls unconscious. When she wakes, she finds herself in a beautiful, pastoral scene, where she is greeted by a gorgeous woman who introduces herself as Althea, a succubus who has been sharing her mind.
Rachel does not take the news well.
“My name is Althea,” the incredibly lovely woman said. “I am the firstborn daughter of Lilith, who you may recognize as Adam's first wife. I am one of the succubi, and I have been sharing your body with you for the past several days.”
“What? Don't be ridiculous,” Rachel said. “Succubi aren't real. And the only person I'm sharing my body with is my husband, not some figment of my imagination.” In truth, she wasn't quite sure what a succubi was. Or was it succubus? It brought to mind some of the boys she had known in college. The ones who were pasty-faced from never seeing sunlight, and who could speak Elvish and Klingon.
The gorgeous woman standing in front of her sighed at her outraged tone, and Rachel tried to look away from the distracting motions of her chest. Althea was wearing the kind of outfit which would have most women hauled up on an indecency charge. Nude from the waist up, her legs were covered in a short skirt of almost blinding whiteness, which contrasted with her golden skin. Slit on one side, it allowed a distracting flash of thigh to escape whenever she took a step. Her blonde hair, attractively tousled, fell in a tumbling series of ringlets down her back. Her waist was slim, her arms slender and attractive, and her breasts spectacular, teardrop-shaped wonders that sat high and proud on her chest, the nipples tilted slightly upward. Her eyes were an arresting shade of green, dark as jade, and hinted at wicked, private pleasures. She looked sleepy-eyed and sensual, as if she had just crawled out of her lover's bed.
Or was about to crawl into it.
“I knew this would be difficult,” she said. Her voice was resigned. “It has been centuries since I shared the body of a mortal. And that was always a choice made by us both, not this bastardized joining I was forced into. Listen, Rachel,” she continued. “Do you remember the boy who was killed in the traffic accident? Peter Miller?”
Rachel nodded warily. The face of the young man who had died, almost in her arms, several days ago, still haunted her.
“Well, he was a monster and a fool, but he wasn't an idiot. Somehow he got his hands on an old grimoire, a spellbook. He performed a ritual which he thought would tear me out of my body and into the mind of his would-be girlfriend. So that she would be so horny she would have no choice but to sleep with him.” She grimaced in disgust. “As if I would allow myself to be used for something like that!
“But he got it wrong. My soul was pulled away from my physical form,” she said, as calmly as if they were discussing a trip to the drugstore. “But instead of going into that poor girl, I was forced into him.” She shuddered, her golden skin turning pale and sallow. “It was horrible. His mind was a festering sewer, filled with hate for women.
“And then he got hit by a bus. I have never been so near death. If he had died while I was trapped in his mind, I would have perished as well. I was lucky. I was very, very lucky that you came along, my child. When you took that boy's hand, I had just enough power to transfer my soul to your mind.” Her lips quirked with dark humor. “It was like an exorcism, but in reverse.
“But I can't stay here forever,” she said. “Mortals are not meant to contain the consciousness of a succubus. Their bodies...change. So I started to work to regain my power, so I could move back into my own form.
“To do that, I had to give you a few hints, nudge you in the direction I wanted you to go. I will not apologize for my actions,” she said bluntly. “And I think, on the whole, I have not done you any harm.”
“Direction?” said Rachel blankly, her mind whirling. “What direction?” She thought of the whispering voice she had heard in her mind over the last several days. The voice that was always urging her to let go, to relax, to savor the joys of the flesh.
The voice that was eerily similar to Althea's own.
“Succubi get their strength, their physical and mental powers, from sexual pleasure. Preferably that of others, although our own will do in a pinch. A lover, or someone who we are in close contact with. A friend. A neighbor. The closer the bond, the more power we receive. An orgasm, a climax, is as sustaining to us as a good meal is for you.” Her eyes closed and a ripple of remembered pleasure coursed down her body, making the flesh quiver enticingly. “So I spoke to you silently, tried to remove a few of your inhibitions.” Her face was sympathetic. “Took away those things which were making you so terribly unhappy.
“Tell me, Rachel,” she said in response to her shell-shocked silence. “If someone had suggested, two weeks ago, that you would screw your intern as a farewell gift, would that have seemed in any way plausible? Would you have offered your maid a full-time job, but only on the condition that she dress in such a way as to sexually excite you? Would you have kissed her in the middle of your house, where your children could walk in at any time?
“Would you have attempted a reconciliation with Josh, a man who has driven you to screaming rages in the past due to his refusal to conform in his art and his life? Would you have allowed Alex and Sarah to choose their own careers, or would you have kept to your rigid insistence they follow the paths you laid out for them, regardless of their happiness?”
Rachel blinked slowly. When taken in a lump like that, Althea's story was frighteningly credible. Her knees began to shake. She covered her face with her hands, horrified.
“You're...in my head?” she whispered. “So where are we now?”
Althea smiled and shrugged. “Just a little home I've made for myself here,” she said. “It was disturbing to float around in your mind, completely disembodied. I needed a template to work from. Don't worry. It didn't take more than a few hundred million of your neurons. You weren't using them anyway.”
Rachel fell to a heap on the grass, her legs suddenly strengthless. Uncontrollable shivers racked her body. She wanted to scream her terror aloud, but she couldn't draw a breath deep enough to give voice to her fear.
Before she could collapse into a puddle of full-fledged hysteria, a pair of warm arms come around her from behind, as gently comforting as a mother's embrace. Lips brushed her cheek, and a soft voice murmured into her ear. “Shhhh, lovely Rachel. I will never hurt you. I would sooner cut off my own tits than allow you to come to harm. I have claimed you as my handmaiden, and when I have retaken my own body, thou wilt be my first disciple.”
Rachel swallowed, forcing back her tears, then turned in Althea's arms. It seemed she had to accept this incredible story, as outrageous as it seemed. Not for the first time, she was grateful to her law-school mentors, who had taught her that when working on a lawsuit, the only things that mattered were the facts. “All right,” she said, “When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.”
Althea smiled like a sunrise. “Sherlock Holmes,” she said, recognizing the quote.
“So what are you? You say you get power from sex? How old are you? Where do you come from?”
Althea smiled and leaned against a rock which conveniently appeared behind her, stretching her long legs on the sun-warmed grass. “That's a long story.”
“We've got all night,” Rachel pointed out. She frowned. “I am asleep, right?”
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