THE GIFTS OF THE DEMONESS 1

She came to me in a dream — inhuman black eyes, glossy fire-apple red skin, huge, gravity-defying tits with coal-black nipples. It was like she had sprung to life off the bumper sticker on the back of some old corny old dude’s Chevy s10. With one exception- the heavy, angry looking twelve-inch cook that hung between to thick thighs.

I wasn’t too surprised at first. Since Claire split with me last month, my primary solace had been found in weed and hentai. Yeah, whatever, don’t look at me like that. I didn’t say I was proud of it. But the combo tended to produce some pretty out-there dreams. But then, wait a second, how was I still dreaming if I had just, “Realized,” I was dreaming? Or maybe i wasn’t? I was still in my shitty basement room, the posters on the wall were all legible … and this demon lady wasn’t acting like the big-titty half-human ladies who came to call on me usually did.

First off, she sat at the foot of my bed and snapped her fingers. Three flashes of light, three puffs of smoke- and she had a cigarette in her left hand- left claw, really-a clipboard in her right, and a pair of thick black glasses on her face.

“Charlie Hartwell.” She began, without looking at me. She had a gravelly, husky voice- a middle-aged smokers voice, that reminded me of the scotch I occasionally stole from my dad’s liquor cabinet, “Twenty-two years old. Currently a student at Frontier City Community College … Hmmm, but we’ve got an asterisk next to that… seems you’ve been missing a lot of class lately, Charlie.”

She turned to look at me, those midnight black eyes looking over me coldly like I was a bug pinned to the wall of a museum.

“Five foot eleven,” she clicked her tongue and shook her head, “Just shy of six. What a shame. One hundred-eighty pounds, though that might be a little out of date.”

She reached over to poke my slightly-flabby midsection with one black claw.

“I’ve … been … having a rough month, I guess?” I said, blushing, pulling my Zelda t-shirt down to cover my belly, “Who are you, anyway, shouldn’t you be like, sucking my dick or something.”

“That’s quite rude,” the creature said, tossing a lock of her wild, wavy dark hair behind her ear, “We did just meet after all, Charlie.”

She took a drag from her cigarette — ugh, cloves, who the fuck still smoked cloves? — and flipped a sheet on the clipboard.

“As for your rough month …” Her cigarette-bearing hand traced a line on the paper., “Twelve classes missed. Two shifts at work as well, resulting in termination.”

“They didn’t fire me, I quit,” I grumbled, “I’m to good to make fuckin’ sandwiches all day anyway.

“Hours spent playing Elden Ring: ninety-four. Hours spent crying: Six in total. Instances of masturbation: sixty-seven!” the demoness whistled low, “That’s — let’s see — two point three three repeating times a day on average. Not bad, Chuck! Not bad at all.”

“Don’t call me Chuck, please. It reminds me of —”

“Sixth through ninth grade,” she interrupted, flipping to another page, “When you were referred to, alternatively, as butt-fuck Chuck and cock-suck Chuck. And more recently — Chuck the Cuck.”

“What!” I said, blushing and sitting upright, “How? Who is calling me that?”

“Just some of your less-polite classmates at college … who have been following what your ex has been up to on Insta — with a few different members of the basketball team.”

My jaw went tight- and more embarrassingly, my flaccid, pink little cock jumped and got a little less flaccid under my blankets. The image of my sweet, innocent, studious Claire, dancing under neon lights filled my mind. Hearts and thumbs up scrolled across the screen as one tall, powerful black man ground his crotch into her ass, and another poured champagne down the front of her white tube-top. She giggled a deliriously happy giggle, and blew a kiss at whoever was holding the camera.

That video had been seared into my mind for two weeks. And, apparently, I wasn’t the only one. Claire was out there. Partying, drinking, having fun, doing things she never would have done with me, and showing half the internet her champagne-soaked tits. Meanwhile I was sulking in my room, fucking up my job and school, jerking off and getting high. And the august, accomplished student body of FCCC was giving me shitty nicknames about it.

I hung my head. The demon on the foot of my bed looked at me curiously, almost kindly with those doll black eyes- as the tears started to come again — What kind of a shitty dream was this, anyway — I thought, trying to wipe the tears away with the back of my wrist.

“It’s not a dream. Not really,” The demoness said, reaching her long tail, slithering over the covers to gently push my chin up so my eyes could meet hers.

She smiled a dangerous, two-fanged smile at me.

“Then what is it?”

“Let’s leave that for a moment. You and I don’t exactly share a concept of reality. If I tried to explain it, It might quite literally fry your brain. Not that it isn’t half-fricasseed already.”

“What do you want from me?” I asked her.

Electricity shot up my spine as the tail wrapped around my bare shoulders pulsing and undulating warmly, melting the tension in them. Tension I hadn’t even realized was there- it had just become my default state.

“Wrong question,” The demoness said, putting out her cigarette on my desk and tossing the clipboard onto the bed.

She started to crawl over me, her huge red tits shifting with her shoulders, until we were face to face. Her breath smelled of cloves. I pressed myself against the wall unconsciously as my cock stiffened to its full five inch length.

“The question is, what do you want? Because whatever is, I can give it you.”

Suddenly, with a sound like pouring liquid, she changed. Her skin shifted until it was a pale freckled white, like my own- her hair shortened and changed tone as well. Her pendulous tits flattened until they were two flat, steel-hard pecs, sitting on top of three bands of abs. Her long, swinging cock changed color — but stayed just as long and thick. Then she smiled at me — with my own face …

“I could make you into this. A perfect version of yourself. Strong. Handsome. Confident. And of course …” she flourished her hand down at the massive member. Her voice was my voice. “Or this…” her form shifted again, the cock disappearing, replaced by a smooth, waxed pussy, while the rest of her form softened and became curvy — but still recognizably, undeniably me!

A puff of smoke, and she resumed her original demonic form.

“Changes to your body are just the beginning. Power. Status. Money. All can be yours.”

Something about the thought of that excites her, and I can see her massive she-cock twitching and rising, as she reached one of her claws to down to slowly stroke it.

“Look …” I say shakily, “Of course that’s tempting. Both of those em, options —”

I think of inhabiting either of those forms- the strong, masculine, male form. The beguiling, beautiful, and curvy female one.

“But I’ve seen enough anime and listened to enough old blues songs to know this comes at a price. So what’s yours?”

“Not your soul. So put your mind at ease there.”

She leaned forward, putting the big apple-red breasts in my face again.

“You’ve run across the term Succubus, yes? A being that feeds on sexual energy. Usually they’re pictured — well, a lot like me — And they go around fucking men and draining all their life force. Well, it’s a similar concept- except a little less direct.”

She reached down, and I could feel her claw drape itself on my cock and start moving slowly up and down …  up and down …

“In my case I form a … Let’s say partnership — with a willing vessel. Then when that vessel creates sexual energy, I can feed off of it. I grow in power. My ability to interact with this strata of existence increases. As does the gifts I can give my vessel. The … ahem … Alterations …  I can make to them. Here’s a little free sample.”

Without, warning, she squeezed my rigid five inch manhood like a vice made of fire. The pain was incredible. Indescribable.

It was too much for me to even scream. My mind haven’t even completely felt out the edges of the pain, hadn’t totally comprehended it, before it started to fade. Before the touch of her hand warmed and mellowed. Pain was replaced with spreading, melting, milky pleasure — mostly. As she smiled her pointed teeth at me and moved that unnatural claw up and down my cock, I still felt a quick lightning strike of pain at every stroke.

Growing pains — I realized, the breath going out of my lungs. My cock was getting .. .bigger? It was like with every upward pull of that demonic hand my cock got longer and thicker. The Demoness released her grip, and my breath finally came back. She leaned back, looking at my cock with an eye both critical and proud, like a journeyman painter giving a painting a final once-over before hanging it on the wall.

It had to be nine inches long now, and almost as thick as a beer can! It stood straight up from my crotch, rigid and glistening with … something … some shiny infernal product of the transformation process I guessed.

“You like it?” the Demoness purred, reaching down to stroke her own massive tool.

I laughed a wild, frightened laugh.

“Of … fucking course I do. But ..”

“But nothing, Charlie. All you have to do is use that thing a bit, and I’ll turn you into the person you always dreamed of being. All you have to do is fuck. The more the better … and the more … untoward, the more — wrong — it is by human standards, the better.”

She snapped her fingers and the television flickered on — I saw myself in what looked like a bathroom at the college — I had Claire bent over the sink, her perky tits bouncing as I failed her mercilessly.

She whimpered pathetically saying between moans, “Charlie … Ughhh … Please .. I’ve got to get to class …”

The screen flickered again … and I was outside somewhere in the woods… Sam, my tomboyish best friend, was looking up at me with those big green eyes of hers.

“Charlie, I don’t know about this —” is all she has time to say before I garb her by her black pixie cut and shove my cock into her wet, waiting mouth.

Another change. It’s … holy shit it’s my parents bedroom. And my own stepmom is tied to the bed with duct tape over mouth. Her curvy, flabby pale body completely exposed, and a look of terror in her eyes as I approach her, unbuckling my pants.

“Okay. We got a deal,” I said breathlessly, thrilling desire overcoming my fear. The screen goes blank again, “What do I have to do, sign something?”

“Some contracts are written in ink,” she said, lowering her form onto the bed, one hand still stroking herself, “Some are written in blood.”

She nestled my brand new cock between her two heavy, red, pillowy tits.

“And some are written in cum.”

THE END OF CHAPTER ONE