Chapter 12: The Peril of the Succubus

Notes: Thanks to b0b for beta-reading this!

Fatima smiled and reached for her husband, who was also her brother. Kyle was naked, his body dark-brown and muscular, his cock hard and ready for her. She loved her brother so much, and was so happy that Aaliyah had made their marriage possible.

She was also glad to have Kyle all to herself tonight.

Fatima loved her brother's wives and concubines dearly, and loved fucking them even more, but sometimes you just wanted to be with the man you love without one of his other wives or concubines joining in on the fun. Romantic. Private. Cozy. Wonderful.

"You are so beautiful, little sister," Kyle smiled.

"I know," she said, grinning and grasping his cock. "I can tell by how hard you are!"

He groaned and leaned in, kissing her. It was so wonderful. She stroked his broad back, delighting in the strength of his muscles. He was like a rock, strong and unmoving, and she wanted to hold on tight as her passions whipped through her like a forest fire. She shoved her tongue deep into his mouth, stroking faster. His hands caressed her flesh, fanning the inferno inside her.

He found her nipples, pinching, caressing, playing. She moaned into his lips. He lowered her to their bed, the sheets cool on her burning flesh. She was so wet, she didn't need foreplay and spread her legs, guiding him to her wonderful spot.

"Oh, yes!" she gasped, breaking the kiss as his girth drove into her. She felt so wonderfully full. Her little pussy was made to be fucked by her brother's cock. "Make love to me!"

"I will," he promised, not moving. It was wonderful; he filled her up, while his dark, slanted eyes stared down into hers. "I love you so much, Fatima."

She smiled. "I love you, Kyle. Now fuck me! Make me cum! Douse the fires burning inside me!"

He pumped; she moaned.

"Oh, yes!" she gasped, her head lolling to the right as he kissed her ear. Such wonderful pleasure—

Dark eyes peered at her. The wall of Kyle's bedroom melted away, dissolving into darkness as the shadowed eyes moved into the room. Terror squeezed her heart and she screamed, pushing at Kyle to get off her.

He kept fucking her. "Your pussy feels so wet," he moaned.

"You have to stop!"

Kyle laughed. "You don't want me to do that!"

The eyes were so close, and she scratched and clawed at her husband. "Please, Kyle! We're in danger!"

"What can hurt you here?"

Me, the dark eyes seemed to hiss. A woman's voice, deep and angry. She could see a feminine figure in the darkness, a gaping wound in her stomach.

"You can't be here!" Fatima shouted at the eyes.

She wiggled and kicked, her heart beating in terror. The bed began to dissolve, misting away as the eyes were only a feet away. She heaved at her pumping husband, twisting his nipples, and wormed her way out from under him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, confused, even as his body began to be consumed by the dark figure.

Fatima fled, running as fast as she could from the nightmare born of guilt.

Thursday, January 23rd

Detective Mike Donnar parked his unmarked police car where the deputy directed, climbing out into the misting rain. He had been asleep at home when the call came in. Multiple homicide, Graham. He had worked a lot of homicides in his fifteen years working for the Pierce County Sheriff Department, and he was glad his wife, Maddy, was so understanding.

His cunt-of-an-ex-wife had not been.

"The main crime scene's across the bridge," a deputy said, pointing at a wooden bridge. Something large lay on it.

"What's that."

"Bear. Damnedest thing. It's chest has been hacked open. And there are more dead bears in the clearing around the house."

"I thought this was a homicide?"

"Yeah." The deputy shifted. "It ain't pretty. Four dead. All women. All naked."

"Fuck." Detective Donnar crossed the bridge, glancing at the dead bear, its blood black on the wooden bridge. Then he noticed the license plate. It lay wedged beneath the damage truss of the bridge. A car had wrecked here.

"Ran the plates?" he asked the deputy.

"Yeah. Belongs to a, uh..." he flipped through a small notebook he pulled out of his breast pocket. " ... uh, Faiza Unmei. She lives in South Hill."

Donnar nodded, smiling.

"The car was reported stolen by her son, Kyle, at about 6:30 PM last night. Said he last saw it when he got home from school at 3 PM. We have a BOLO out on it."

"Top priority," Donnar called out, and continued across the bridge.

It was chaos beyond the bridge. Portable lights were being set up, illuminating a torn up ground in front of log cabin. It looked like a bomb had gone off—an entire wall of the cabin was missing, chunks spread out on the ground. And the hard-packed dirt in front of the cabin, strewn with three more dead bears, was torn and disturbed. At the cabin entrance lay two dead, naked girls, one Black. Through the door he could see another woman's body, her decapitated head lying nearby.

What did that? A fucking sword?

This was going to be a long night.

Fumi awoke before dawn, dressing quietly, and slipping out of the house before her parents could awake. She started the car, punching in the address for Paradise on Mount Rainier into her GPS, and driving south down Meridian, following the GPS instructions. She was going to find Niqualmie and beg the spirit for a way for her and Kyle to be together.

There just had to be a way.

Before going to bed, she had Googled the name Britney had told her, and learned everything that she needed to know to summon the spirit. Britney claimed she existed, and Fumi had all her hopes pinned on the spirit.

"I need him so bad," she whispered to herself as she drove into the mountains, the wet forest giving way to snow. The road was freshly plowed, but her car still slid on patches of ice as she drove nearer and nearer to Paradise. Her stomach was twisted in knots; her family had just moved to Washington State a month ago and she had never been up here.

But she had been in the mountains back home in Hokkaido—the northern most of the main islands of Japan—and she was not stranger to them in winter. The road wound as she climbed higher and higher, the snow thickening, until she reached a small, wooden building—Paradise's visitor center. No one was here; it was a Thursday and the sun was just cresting the flank of Mount Rainier.

Taking a deep breath, she strode out of her car into the snowy fields of Paradise, the snow up to her knees as she slogged through the thick, cold mess until she reached the about two hundred yards from her car. It felt far enough.

"Here goes," she said, her hands trembling as she peeled off her downy jacket. If this doesn't work...

She dropped her jacket to the snow, then pulled her sweater over her head, gasping as the cold air attacked her skin, goose pimples forming. She unhooked her bra, her nipples achingly hard, then she kicked off her boots, wiggled out of her heavy pants and a panties, and unrolled her wool socks. Shivering violently, her teeth chattering, she laid down in the snow.

"Wow! That's cold."

And now she had to wait for the spirit to come, or hypothermia to kill her. The cold seeped into her, stealing away her warmth as the gray clouds swirled over head. She shivered again, the snow almost burning hot against her flesh. She wanted to get dressed, to get warm, but she needed to do this. She needed to be with Kyle.

I need to fuck a man, but I can't live with killing another one. If I can't be with Kyle, this is better. Cleaner.

"Holy shit! You okay, miss?" a man shouted.

A man stood over her, wearing a heavy, dark brown coat and a wide-brimmed, beige hat. Fumi thought he might be a park ranger. His face was rugged, spotted with stubble and his shoulders were broad. A new warmth suffused her, driving back the cold that had slowly been creeping through her body. Her musk, sweet like lilacs, permeated the air.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Go away, please," Fumi said, her pussy moistening. She pressed her thighs together, trying to control herself. She needed cum, and her eyes fell to the man's pants where an impressive bulge was tenting the front of his khaki pants.

"I can't do that. You need to put on your clothes right away." He licked his lips and rubbed a sweaty palm on his trousers. "Yes. It's ... not good for you to be so ... naked."

He groaned as she licked her lips, and Fumi ached to drink his cum. Her power was affecting the man, making his cock rise and molding him to her suggestions. "Why can't you just leave me alone?" she purred.

"You'll freeze to death. You really should put some clothes on."

"But you don't want me to, right?" She arched her body, her budding breasts jiggling, and she spread open her thighs, letting him have a good luck at her pussy covered by a thick fur of black hair. "You want to keep watching my naked, nubile form."

"Yes," he admitted.

"Of course you do," she purred, sitting up. "You want me to stay naked and beautiful so you can enjoy me."

He nodded.

"You seem so stressed. I bet you could use a release." Her hands stroked his pants, sliding up to his bulging crotch.

"Fuck, yeah!" he groaned as her hand brushed his hard cock through his pants.

"And you'll leave me alone and let me lie naked in the snow?" Her fingers pulled the zipper down.

"Uh-huh!"

He wore red long johns beneath his pants and she unbuttoned the fly, reaching in and fished out his hard, thick cock. So wonderful, she thought, then swallowed his cock. Fumi loved to suck hard dicks, milking all the wonderful cum out of them that she craved. Blowjobs were the safest way to harvest it. She could never kill a man by blowing him, but it was also the least satisfying. It took the edge off her hunger. Anal sex was riskier, the man could die, but most wouldn't.

And maybe there was a single man in all the world that could survive cumming in her pussy. Her mother had been fortunate enough to find her one man, Fumi's father, and Fumi had hoped Kyle was her one man. But she had forgotten or ignored one fact—that one man would always be born in Hokkaido, descended on both sides of his family from one bloodline. Kyle was only half-Japanese, he could never have been the one.

But I love him so much.

"Fucking whore," groaned the park ranger as she sucked his cock. "That's it, little snow bunny. Suck my cock. All you sluts love to come up here and tease me, and now one of you is finally paying up."

His hands stroked her black hair as she swirled her tongue about his head, savoring the bitter precum leaking out of his cock. Her hands cupped his balls, massaging them, trying to work the cum out faster. She sucked, sliding slowly down his shaft until he brushed the back of her throat, and then she drew back up.

"Fuck, yes!" he moaned. "You sure know how to suck cock, little snow bunny!"

She held only the tip in her mouth, sucking and exploring it with her tongue, then she started bobbing rapidly, humming to increase his pleasure. He moaned, both of his hands gripping her head. Fumi was ready, and didn't fight as he began to fuck her face.

"Take my cock!" he grunted. "That's it. Eat it all up, little snow bunny! Such a nasty slut! Take it all!"

His cock brushed the back of her throat over and over, every time hitting her a little harder. Then, with an animalistic grunt, he shoved his cock down her throat. She relaxed, swallowing his cock, and humming around the tip buried down her esophagus.

"That's it! Fucking slut! Deep-throat me!"

He fucked her face harder and faster; her hands squeezing and stroking his balls. His eyes stared down at hers, wild with lust and red with exertion. She let go of his balls, and let them slap her chin. Her pussy was on fire, dripping her juices into the cold snow. Pleasure gathered inside her, spurred by every thrust of his cock into her lips. She sucked and swirled her tongue around the invading cock, eager for his cum.

"Oh, yeah!" he grunted. "You're gonna get a big mouthful, little snow bunny!"

Oh, yes!

Salty, bitter cum flooded her mouth.

Her pussy exploded, convulsing and sending pleasure swirling through her.

She swallowed his life-giving cum, the warmth spreading through her body. He fired a second, large blast, and she swallowed fast and greedy. She couldn't get enough cum. A third blast, smaller, squirted into her mouth and he let go of her head, stumbling back.

"Fuck," he panted as she fall back into the cold snow, delighting in the wicked thrill filling her up. She licked her lips, cleaning up the traces of his cum that had escaped her lips, wanting to taste every last bit of his cum.

She stared up the clouds, listening to his retreating footsteps, and waiting for the cold to steal back over her flushed body. Niqualmie only appeared to young men or women searching for love in the wilderness and at the brink of death.

She shivered, the cold robbing the warmth of her orgasm, filling up her entire body. Her teeth chattered and every few seconds, violent spams wracked her body. And then ... everything stopped mattering. The cold had filled her and she stopped shivering. A lassitude crept over her, and she just watched the gray clouds swirl overhead as the world slowly grew darker and darker.

She wasn't even cold anymore.

I'll go to sleep and wake up in heaven. It's better this way. I won't hurt anymore men. I'll just go to sleep and dream of Kyle.

I won't ever lose control and hurt him.

Kyle flinched when he saw his sister lying on the hospital bed hooked up to machines, a breathing tube in her nose. Aaliyah gasped behind him, her body pressed against him, shivering in horror. Kyle's mom sat on a chair next to Fatima's bed, holding her hand. His mom looked terrible, and Kyle wasn't sure she slept at all on the padded chair next to Fatima's bed.

A nurse with black, short hair and green eyes pushed past Kyle. He barely noticed her pink aura.

He walked over and took his sister's hand, bringing it up to his lips and kissing it. "I'm sorry, Fatima," he whispered. "I shouldn't have taken you along."

"What happened to her, Kyle?" his mom asked. "Was it drugs? The doctors are baffled."

"It was a witch, Mom," Kyle answered. "They kidnapped Aaliyah and hexed Fatima."

"He speaks the truth, mother," Aaliyah whispered. "She was very brave."

A tear rolled down his mom's cheeks. "No. Witches don't exist."

"You can accept Aaliyah and her homnoculi, but not witches?"

"What's so strange about those little men?" she asked. More of Aaliyah's work. "They're very useful."

"Aaliyah, I wish mom would believe us."

She shook her head, her dark eyes misting. "Not hearth or home," she whispered.

"Mom, do I tell lies?" he asked her.

"I didn't think so, but..."

"Then believe me. Aaliyah was kidnapped and we went to go save her."

"Why didn't you call the police?" she demanded. "Then your sister wouldn't have been hurt."

"The police couldn't have saved me, mother."

"Why not?"

"They had powers," Kyle answered. "They cast spells. The police couldn't have stopped them."

"And you could?" His mother was half-hysterical. "I don't understand what has gotten into you? Is it Aaliyah? Is your wife feeding you all this mumbo-jumbo?"

"We had weapons that Aaliyah brought us."

"I can't deal with this, Kyle!" she snapped. "Your sister is unconscious, the doctors are baffled, and I can't deal with your lies! Just tell me the truth! What happened to her, Kyle? What happened to my baby girl?"

Kyle walked over to his mom, taking her hands in his and knelt before her. "Please, Mom. You have to believe me. Someone cast a spell on Fatima. That's why the doctors don't understand what's going on."

Her beautiful face twisted with anger and she ripped her hand out and slapped him. "Enough, Kyle! I won't be mad, just tell me the truth!"

"Aaliyah, I wish that you prove you're a Genie."

Aaliyah considered it for a moment, then suddenly there were flowers decorating the room, feeling the air with sweet, pungent scent. "Our wife deserves to have finer surroundings," she answered.

His mom gaped, her jaw working. She looked at Aaliyah like she had sprouted a third arm and all the color drained out of her face. "Y-you ... what ... how?"

"I'm a Djinn. Like your son said. I grant him certain wishes, help his life go more smoothly."

"Then you can fix Fatima!" Hope burned in his mom's eyes. "Make the wish, Kyle."

Aaliyah's face fell. "My powers are limited. Healing her is beyond them. I can help Kyle around the house and ... help him with relationships."

"We'll find a way to save her, mom." Kyle leaned up and kissed her on the cheek. "I love her, mom. I won't abandon her. She's one of my wives."

His mom nodded. "I know that you love her." Then she hugged her son and sobbed on his shoulder.

Later, after his mom's crying had abated, Kyle led Aaliyah out of the hospital. He still had school to attend. Shannon, Kyle's oldest concubine, the beautiful mother of Chyna, waited by her SUV a hopeful look on her face. Kyle shook his head, and her face softened.

"I'm sorry, Master," she whispered, giving him a motherly hug and then a most unmotherly kiss.