I had just come home from Jake’s with my pussy full of his slimy cum. I thought he’d peter out after the first couple hours of some intense sex but I was wrong, blissfully wrong. At nearly forty, Jake was ten years my senior and I have to admit, he plumb wore me out. That man’s a stallion.
I stripped off my clothes and let them lay where they fell. The softness of my bed was soothing to my tired body. The smooth sheets teased my still-hard, sensitive nipples as I found my place to take a much needed rest. I was supposed to see Jake later today too so I knew I had to stock up on sleep.
I fell asleep quickly and my dreams were sinfully sweet. They were full of nothing but hot, lusting sex. I was getting it from every angle imaginable. Men and women fucked me like a helpless sex toy and I was loving it. I’m naturally submissive.
There was a woman shoving her fingers in and out of my dripping cunt and two guys stroking themselves off dangerously close to my mouth. I was in complete heaven but just as they were about to paint my face with their thick, salty jizz, I woke up. I rubbed my eyes in disbelief. I had to still be dreaming.
I bolted to my feet and stared in amazement and fear at the glowing green light that emanated from the hallway. It really was like a dream until she walked in. I started to tremble and my legs became rubbery. I eased myself onto the bed in shock and watched.
She was chubby, some call it voluptuous. Her eyes were glowing jade and two horns curled from the top of her head. She unfurled her leathery wings and stood there with hoofed feet and tail languidly curling behind her. She was straight out of a horror flick, though her leathery outfit looked more like some low-budget BDSM porno.
“Hello Jasmine,” she said in the most musical voice I’ve ever heard.
“How?” I stammered. “How do you know my name?”
“I know a lot about you, honey,” she said. “I’m Modesta, Succubus Liaison.”
I shook my head bewilderingly and blinked several times. Despite my best efforts, she was still standing there before me.
“I don’t understand,” I said. “What do you want?”
“Penance, darling, penance,” her laugh chilled me to my core.
“For your friskiness while you were alive,” she hissed.
“Okay,” I said irritably. This was getting too much to handle. “So you’re saying I’m dead?”
“Rightly so, dear,” Modesta said and indicated behind me.
I started trembling again, not wanting to turn around in fear of what I’d see. Maybe I did die. But how? I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly turned around. I felt the blood rush from my cheeks as I stared at my lifeless body lying in bed. How could the blood rush from my cheeks if I were dead?
“Why?” I sobbed.
Modesta shook her head at me. I’m sure I looked horrid. I just died, what was I supposed to do?
“You’re a slut,” she said. “You’ve slept with over a hundred men in your short lifetime so you’ve been remanded to me for the next hundred years to serve out your penance.”
I was shocked. Since when was having sex a crime? Yeah, I guess I could be called a slut. I didn’t know how to keep my legs closed but when my pussy called I had to answer.
Before I would reply, Modesta waved her hand and my body started to tingle. I became dizzy and a slow wave of heat burned through my soul. I don’t know if I cried out or not. The shrieks of pain and fear that ground through my mind drowned everything out.
I stood from the bed and looked at myself in the mirror. The image that stared back was gruesome. Actually, it wasn’t. I looked amazing, in a sensually demonic way. I was much slimmer than Modesta was, though she looked pretty hot too if you liked hefty women.
My hips were more pronounced. My waist was smaller. My ass was still as big and round as it always was but my tits were fuller. I was a hot bitch with horns and wings. But what exactly was my penance?
Modesta explained. To serve out my penance, I was supposed to intrude on my victim’s dreams and twist them into something so hot that they had an orgasm while they slept. It didn’t matter how they came, as long as they did. With each orgasm, a bit of their life’s essence is transferred to me, sustaining my life through this hell until my sentence was served.
I guess if I didn’t fulfill my task of making my victim’s cum, then eventually I’d die and that would be that. I wouldn’t go to heaven, or hell, depending on the decision that was made about me. Either way, I wouldn’t ease into the afterlife and my soul would cease to exist.
It was a scary thought at first but Modesta told me that her job was to help me through the transition until I was able to handle it on my own. She was like a case-worker, so-to-speak. She’d give me my assignments and keep track of my progress that would ultimately lead to my passing on.
“So what now?” I asked.
Considering that my sentence for fucking hundreds of men was to have sex with them in their dreams, I should have been excited. I wasn’t. I was full of dread and fear. My job was to fulfill my victim’s fantasies, not my own. Even if I made them climax, I wouldn’t receive their life’s essence unless they came during their own fantasy, not mine.
“Well, looks like you have your first customer already,” Modesta said.
She took my hand gently and whispered that everything would be okay. In less than a blink, we were standing at the foot of a large, finely inscribed oak bed. There was an older man sleeping.
“What if he wakes up?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she reassured me. “They can’t see us. Only other succubae can. Now concentrate on him and let your mind slip into his dream.”
I did. We were standing in an office. It looked like a teacher’s office. I mused at the certificates that hung on the wall and I was right. The sleeping man was one Professor Neil Helms but he wasn’t here. I looked at Modesta. I was confused.
“He’s waiting,” she said.
“For what?” I asked and shook my head.
“He’s waiting for you to start his fantasy. Why do you think you are here? What kind of fantasy might a college professor have about his office?”
“Ahhh,” I cooed slightly less dreadful than before.
I was beginning to understand, to a point. I thought for a moment then transformed myself into a young college student. I was wearing a tiny, loose skirt, tight shirt, and my hair in pony tails. I’m sure the good professor was fantasizing about fucking one of his students here. Then right on cue, he walked in.